#hes also lost some weight awhile ago so that's good

[x688plsloveme]

Another drawing I commissioned from @skaiind ! This is of my baby Bruno <333

[ask-thedepressedkidatthetable]

His lungs burned and his legs gave way, stiff and in the moment, not moving as Justin crawled the forest floor, caught on roots and most embarrassingly, bits of acorns that dug into his shaking hands. He drank from a thin, questionable stream before pushing himself onto his back. Mere minutes away from him, his family, save his mother, trudged along the various paths, splitting off in different directions before finally leaving him for dead. What did it mattered if they buried him? In his state, some wild animal would get him. Justin didn't hear the receding sounds of humanity. Shallow breaths filling the air for what must have been a very long time, because the light was different when he finally opened his good eye. The other was swollen shut and felt hot and heavy against his cheek, pulling at the dried blood and plastered hair against his face.

There were deep prints in the path, designs Justin recognized but couldn't quite name as he followed, swaying in the later part of his journey, when he finally gained enough strength to stand. He wished he hadn't. The action made the entire world swim and his stomach gave a series of violent flips as he ran into a tree. Chips of living matter broke free, sticking to the shoulder of his coat- his hand was ruined now. He hadn't even realized he had it in him, but, well, a fuzzy part of his acknowledged, he didn't anymore. Sick dripped out of his hand, finished from his mouth and staining his shirt in a completely indistinguishable way aside from being a new wet-spot. The woods were big. Impossibly so. A meager walking distance into town took him two days. It aged him considerably. Strokes of luck came in disguised ways, little things that saved him: falling into the cold mud, passing out over a rock during the high part of the day, finding a- a thing! Honestly, Justin wasn't even sure it was real anymore or he'd just made the whole thing up, but he remembered a lot of warm air blowing out toward him. A fantastic waste of energy! He could have cried!

"Ti- ti'd." Billy wouldn't even hold his hand . . . Justin found that very disappointing for some reason, but it didn't really matter because suddenly, he could feel all his strength and will dissolving, his fingers dropping from their feather light touch against Billy's wrist. Then, everything went black, because that was it, wasn't it? Everything he loved was going to watch him die, being an active part in it. He had wanted his hand. Wanted to feel the burning skin that always was Billy Hargrove.

Justin wasn't awake to see this psychical chapter of his life washed away and revealed. It didn't help in a way. Blood welled out of open wounds slowly out of the dehydrated boy. If he'd been forced to guess earlier, as his house swallowed him, he would have guessed some broken ribs and a head injury. Boot marks laid across his ribs, mostly black with hints of blue and purple, just like the hand marks across his throat. His good arm hung loosely. He hadn't tried using it after that tree . . . Justin had also noticeably lost so weight off his already slim figure since the last time he saw Billy. Sunken features and bones casting shadows in an unfortunate way.

There was a stain where his head had been not too long ago. That was the first thing he noticed, his eye fluttering open and shut for awhile as he took in the dark room. It hurt. It would have hurt less if he could have managed a way to breathe less, but he just couldn't figure it out . . . Billy was standing over him, Justin could finally see that now, his vision adjusting to the faint lights and harsh shadows. He had an expression he'd never seen before and couldn't place. Justin's eyes flooded with terror, every other reaction coming much later- Justin gasped and moaned lowly, squeezing his eyes shut and suddenly wishing he would cry or be met with swift mercy, because the only thing he'd managed was a single twist of the sheets around his legs, and that was enough to completely incapacitate him. "Why?" The word came out like gravel. Like teeth. It tasted like blood he couldn't seem to swallow away. // @v1ctimplagued

[imarawbu]

I accidentally ran into some of my past life the other day.

The house we bought last year is very, very close to my ex in-laws place, my dad's house is also very close as well and this is one of the best (but expensive) places to live in my city. He is aware how close but it's not close enough where I'd run into anyone.

Anyways, I opened Nextdoor for the first time in awhile and the first post I see is my ex MIL selling a bunch of stuff, apparently they are cleaning out the garage.

Long story short, I found out their eldest son, my ex's brother is getting married in February. I assumed someone was getting married because they don't clean stuff up like that. Someone sent me their engagement/ wedding ceremony video and I couldn't help but watch it. I saw everyone for the first time in 3-4 years, (except his brother, I'd never met him in person). Well, my ex looks like literal shit. He became massively overweight at the end of the marriage, he has not lost any weight and as this video was from a year ago, he's pushing 35. In the video he looks high and out of his mind, which with his condition, this is normal. But what hit me most was he had aged sooo badly his drug use and smoking has dissolved all his good looks, especially in comparison to his brother. His brother is a year older- and looks my age. All the photos I had seen of him he was extremely overweight and although a foot shorter looked, identical to my ex when they both have beards. Before my husband was the one who knew how to dress, do his hair, clothes, and other grooming. His brother was the awkward looking one. In the video, the few shots he was in he stands out, not just because of his height, but because he is dressed in black (everyone else is wearing neutral or white colors), hair is disheveled, crazy eyed, and clearly not present in reality.

How the tables have turned. The irony is also not lost on me how my ex husband is or at least was a very talented photographer and editor, someone else did all their wedding photos and videos.

My ex is literally evil, part of it is mental illness as he has done so many drugs for so long he has destroyed his brain and behaves like a paranoid schizophrenic. When he's on drugs he is full out paranoid and very violent. I have had no contact with him in years and have no intention of finding out how he is and I don't care. He is incapable of getting his life together, living on his own, or holding a job- he cannot even remember passwords or where he put his lighter last without it being a conspiracy. He will be living with his parents until he ends up in jail, they pass way, or he dies.

I feel sorry for this woman as I was in that family and the family isn't that much better. There was a lot of domestic violence in the house as it's a cultural thing, it was made worse by my ex but his brother would still get involved and yell at him though the phone and threaten to fly there and beat him up. His brother lives 3 hours away and them getting married will likely have little to do with dealing with my ex husband because I'm sure his brother would never let his future wife be around him for long. On top of being a generally bad person in every way imaginable, my ex husband is a creep and pervert, which his brother knows better than I do. I was pretty shocked he was willing to have him there for this.

My husband used to bully him relentlessly over the phone and text while demanding money from him saying things about how he is less of a man than him because of his various sexual exploits and telling me inappropriate things about his brother while his brother was on the phone. I know stuff about everyone that I should never know and my ex had no problems telling his family, especially his brother, stuff about me that's not exactly appropriate as well to humiliate him. Everyone in that family knew the extent of the abuse he put me through, they heard it or saw it first hand, or knew about it after I ran away from him multiple times and they all talked me into going back (not so much his sister, she ignored me most of the time, which is another issue). One time my ex showed me texts where he was taunting his brother and his brother responded with saying he knew about what he had done to me (this was in regards to a physical attack) and some other stuff.

When stuff got really bad, I confided in my cousin, who turned around and decided to message his sister (I don't know how she got her name or information) and told her basically everything, I'm fairly sure she also messaged his brother (however he didn't call his mother to complain about it like his sister did).

I was very close to my former MIL, she liked me very much, even to the point of telling his brother that she hopes he married someone like me, as initially everyone was extremely hostile to me, especially him.

It also bothers me that a few months ago, someone using a unique name my former MIL uses on her social media, liked a video from my honeymoon. The app lists this person as "someone you may know" most likely meaning it's someone with my phone number in their contacts. I know she never deletes a number, and this is confirmed as she butt dialed my dad last year. This account isn't connected to her phone number but I'm 1000% sure it's her and it freaked me out for weeks and still does. I remember I walked into the DMV (just happened to be the one where she works) to change my first name after getting the court order. She saw me, I had not seen or talked to her in months, she pulls me out of a three hour line so glad to see me, does the name change stuff for me, talks to me some. I leave a few minutes later she calls me back and apologizes that I need to come back because she forgot employees can't do stuff for friend or family members. She wanted me to come back and she would get her coworker to sign everything instead of her. She was apparently so shocked to see me she forgot the rules of her work place apparently. So her checking up on me makes sense. Not sure why she liked the video though, she would know I know who that is...

Anyways, this has very much disturbed my mental health as it always does when anything related to my ex husband comes up. I basically fall into a black hole of wondering why, and needing to know things, and everything starts coming back to me from that year and a half I was with him- which I guess is pretty proportional to the extreme level of trauma from the abuse I experienced.

My current husband also knows about all of this. He has zero sympathy for me and what I experienced, tells me I deserve what I got after running away to be with him and not immediately leaving after I knew how bad he was. When this stuff comes up, he likes to tell me to go back to him or asks if I want to go back and live like trash. One of my biggest regrets was ever telling my husband what my ex husband did as he thinks it's a game to threaten me and tell me how much worse that makes me, which was one of my greatest fears ever after this happened.

[lesserfandomappreciation]

i am here and may i ask for a s/o (gn or male if its fine) who comforts some of bois in supa strikas when they lose? riano, de los santos, miko chen, twisting tiger and dancing rasta would be nice

dsfkjhsdkjg Your blog is amazing!!! I'm constantly checking yours because you are such a good writer! Hope you're doing well! You asked this ages ago and I am sorry for taking so long! I hope it's good! Also, Supa Strikas ask, WOOT! Gender neutral s/o comforts after game loss (Supa Strikas)

Riano

"Hm? Oh cielo, good morning. How'd you sleep?" S/o blinked blankly at the sight before them. Warm toast filled the air, the scent of coffee lingering not too far over the spread of fruit and eggs on the dining table. Riano gave a small wave, setting down his mug. "Give me a minute and I'll finish up these eggs. Last ones!"

"I... I slept well enough, more than you I think. Riano -" S/o eyed the meal up and down. All the chopped fruit laid in little cups. Separate. "This is a lot. This must have taken you awhile. How long-" their eyes landed on the loaded sink. "How long have you been working on this?"

"Since I got up. Not too long." Riano gave a shrug. He turned back to the heated stove. Two arms curled around him from behind, holding onto his frame tenderly. "Aw, love, someone's feeling sweet this morning. Give me a minute-"

"You're allowed you know." The eggs sizzled, the spatula stilled. "To be sad. No one's going to be angry if you are. I'll still be here. If you don't wanna talk about it, don't. Or do. But please don't pretend you're all good. Not with me."

The pan continued to sizzle. A hand covered theirs, holding s/o’s hands to keep them there. Riano’s shoulders sagged. “...Thank you, cielo.”

Riano's reaction is healthier than most. He lost. Okay, that happens, this is a sport, teams are going to train well for it, loss is a natural occurrence. No big deal.

The issue is that were it up to him, that would be that. Determination is a great quality but self-reflection is important. S/o getting him to talk about his feelings would do him a world of good.

He will try to lose himself in productivity to avoid confronting the issue. Beware.

De Los Santos

"0-3, an unprecedented loss against Cog-"

"What a load of hot garbage." S/o set the remote down, frowning. No further reminders were needed here.

De Los Santos stood sat motionless on the couch, hands curled into fists. If he heard s/o, he made no motion of doing so, eyes still trained on the T.V.

"Babe?" Nothing. S/o sighed. Carefully they maneuvered around the coffee table, the cushions bending as they settled next to him. Their neck craned up. Still looking at the T.V. Fingers wrapped sweetly around his, pulling his hand away from the vice grip on his thigh to the softness of their lap.

Silence filled the room. S/o looked down at the hand they held and gently pushed patterns into it, tracing abstract shapes into the tired flesh. The hand barely moved, but hesitantly clenched back. A tired weight leaned on top of their head, sighing deeply.

They were going to be okay. One day at a time.

Takes loss very hard. He's worked really hard to get to where he is, and loss is a fast reminder that he has so much left to work on. Personal pain is there too. As a the goalie of his team, their loss rides on De Los Santos' shoulders even harder.

Talking is difficult. There's a lot that he wants to process, that he's not sure how to put into words yet.

Be there. That's all he needs.

Miko Chen

Rain pattered the dark world outside, staining the windows with drops of light. Light from the nightstand illuminated s/o’s face, and he was sure that if he could keep his eyes open he could enjoy the sight to the fullest.

Instead Miko focused on the warmth of their hands, their pressure on his temples as if they were trying to rub out all the stress and anger from the day. His arms pulled them closer. A giggle illuminated the room. “Comfy?” Miko groaned. “Comfy enough.” The fingers on his head paused. Cracks of light flooded his vision as Miko trailed after those fingers, whining after them. They did not return to his forehead, instead cradling his head in those lovely palms. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

Guilt choked his throat. Miko shook his head.

Soft lips pressed another kiss to his forehead. A breath escaped him. S/o’s gaze flickered from his lips to his own gaze. “Then lay back down for me hon.’ I’m not going anywhere.”

Losing was not the negative part of that experience. Miko is bummed out for sure, loss isn’t great, but he can live with that, train for it and push so he can overcome it next time. Ura Giri? As if. The berating and scolding, the increased training as “punishment” takes it toll.

Miko internalizes a lot. Having Twisting Tiger back in his life as a friend has opened up a new support structure for him and gets him expressing these emotions more. However. He does have a mindset of not wanting to burden others with the frustrations. It’s one thing to angrily kick the ball for some wall-ball, it’s another to let it out on s/o.

Showing support is great but reminding Miko that they’re not made of glass and that they want to support him is very much helpful to getting him to a healthier place after loss.

Twisting Tiger

“I’m headed out- what are you doing?”

Tiger blinked blankly. S/o stood in front of the door, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. His bag rested behind them.

“Is uh…” They were finger tapping. And not in the cute way, but in the ‘how am I going to hide the body’ sort of way. Tiger wetted his lips. “Babe, I’m sort of in a rush. Is it something important?”

“Take a break.”

“What.” “Rest. Nap. Eat. I don’t care, just - stop moving for a few hours.”

Frustration exuded out his sign, his hand gripping the bridge of his nose. Of course he wanted to rest. Crawling under a blanket and not coming out for a while sounded so, so tempting. It was that sort of thing that had led to the loss. He had to be better, do better.”S/o-” Fingers tenders cradled his hand. Eyes shot up to meet theirs, concern brimming through. S/o’s lip quivered, trying to hard to stay strict, but the worry on their face betrayed them. “...One hour.” “Thank you.”

Tiger is legitimately upset by this happening. Loss is natural, it’s part of the game, but he worked so hard, the team spent weeks preparing only for now to have a loss-! How could he not be upset?

Throws himself into practicing to try and make up for it. Tiger has the mindset of pinning the blame on himself. It’s somehow his responsibility to atone for the loss by training.

Someone needs to tell him it’s not his fault and hold him in his subsequent tiredness. The man needs support badly.

Dancing Rasta

It’s not a bad view from up high. Sunset orange reflected off the glass and metal of every building, painting a view from their bedroom porch that wasn’t hard to appreciate.

“Great view tonight.” A smile broke out the moment that hand touched his arm, S/o rounding to his side. They pressed into his side, elbows touching as they too leaned over the barrier. Fabian pressed his lips to a grin. “And the city looks good too.” S/o rolled their eyes. “What’s on your mind?” “Nothing, nothing… Just wanted to check on you. How… how are you holding up?” Newspapers laid spread on the desk inside. “Super Strikas’ Super Loss.” To think that of all the titles that was the one they picked made s/o’s blood boil. TV was no better. Everybody and their grandmother had an opinion to add, an expert to weigh in on the surprise event. Fabian reached an arm out, pulling them close. “Better with you here.” He pressed a kiss to their cheek. “Keep me company yea? The view’s better with two you know.”

Out of the team, and most of the League in general, Dancing Rasta is mature about the loss. Disappointment taints the experience and his teammates’ crestfallen face is not something he enjoys seeing. However. There are other seasons. Other games. They will recover from this.

Takes some time to reflect and do things he likes to mediate over it. It’s easy to get frustrated about the loss while he practices day in and day out. It’s harder when you’re baking or reading or going on a walk.

Really, s/o’s company is more than enough to cheer him up.

[thechangeling]

She burns like rum on a fire

Why did I do this to myself ughhhhh?

So @adoravel-fenomeno and I were talking about Kit potentially getting into an abusive relationship given that he's statistically likely too given his roots. So now I give you this fic! Sorry. Kit is using he/him in this fic because he hasn't really gone on his gender quest yet.

The title is from Cherry Wine by Hozier. I reccomend you listen to Cherry Wine and Trauma by NF while reading this.

Cw: Mentions of physical and verbal abuse, abusive, controlling behavior, negative self talk and extreme denial. Also brief mention of blood.

2013

Don't cry.

Don't cry Kit told himself over and over inside his head as he tried to get a hold of his breathing. As he lay on his bed at 2 in the morning, desperately refreshing his conversation with Autumn.

Autumn or as his best friend Janessa liked to call her "the virus" was Kit's girlfriend. His very first. A mundane with the sight. They had been dating for a few months now. When they had first gotten together everything was amazing, it so it seemed.

They had some much in common and they had fun together. Autumn was hot, funny and charasmatic. She had this way of making him feel like the only person in the room. She showered him with gifts and complements that made Kit finally feel worthy for the first time in his life.

But as time went on things shifted. Autumn insisted on spending almost ever waking second with him. Kit didn't mind at first, he loved hanging out with her. But he missed his parents and his sister, and he knew they missed him too. Whenever they had family movie night, or they wanted Kit to watch Mina, Autumn threw a fit. She insisted that he was ignoring her.

She didn't want him seeing Janessa either, or Nessie as Kit called her for short. Autumn always insisted that she was plotting to steal Kit away from her, which was ridiculous but nothing could change Autumn's mind when she was in a mood. So Kit had found himself blowing Nessie off to hang out with Autumn and making excuses for it.

Kit always felt super guilty for making Autumn so upset. He tried to get out of his agreements if it to stop her from crying but sometimes Tessa and Jem wouldn't let him. It was frustrating when they didn't understand. She would rage for awhile, calling Kit stupid and worthless. Sometimes she would make comments about him being adopted, telling him that Tessa and Jem didn't really love him and they only saw him as a free babysitter for their real child.

She would make jokes about all kinds of things. How Kit wasn't a real shadowhunter, his weight, his past, his bisexuality, his ADHD. Kit knew that Autimn didn't really mean anything by it. It was nothing personal and she didn't really mean it. She loved him. And he loved her.

Tonight had been different though. His grades had taken a turn for the worst because he had been blowing of the tutoring sessions the school had payed for as a part of his accommodations. Because he had been spending that time with Autumn. Kit knew it was a bad idea to miss those, but his girlfriend needed him. She didn't have anybody else. She couldn't count on her parents like he could, and she didn't really have any friends.

But Kit was in big trouble. Tessa and Jem were mad. The school was mad. People were saying that Kit was ungrateful.

Ah yes because every disabled person should just bend down and kiss the feet of every person that deigns to give them what they're legally entitled to.

But Kit knew that he had really screwed up this time. He tried to explain to Autumn that he couldn't see her as often as he used to anymore because he needed to fix his grades. And she absolutely lost it. Which he had been expecting.

However what Kit hadn't been expecting this time was for her to hit him.

And she hit him hard. Punched him straight in the nose. And sure it wasn't that big of a deal. Kit was a shadowhunter and he was pretty much used to being hit. But he hadn't been expecting it.

And there was just so much blood.

Autumn of course instantly apologized profusely. She kissed him over and over and told him that she loved him and she didn't mean to. And Kit knew she was telling the truth but-

But he still felt a sinking feeling in his chest that he couldn't explain.

But Kit had applied an iratze, wiped off the blood, and now everything was as good as new. When he had arrived back home, his parents had noticed anything or asked him any questions.

Now he was lying awake at 2 in the morning, filled with guilt and worry as he waited for Autumn to text him back. He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously as he tried not to over think things.

Maybe she was still mad at him? Was there something else Kit was supposed to say or do? Or maybe he should just leave her alone for awhile?

It was maddening.

Kit turned off his phone and threw it down in frustration, pulling his giant red and black flannel over his shoulders and curling in on himself. He felt strangely exhausted, but unable to sleep. His nose and left eye socket still throbbed a little despite the fact that they should be healed.

Kit thought about using another iratze but his steele was across the room and he couldn't bring himself to stand up to go get it.

God he really was pathetic. Maybe he deserved this. Tears welled up in Kit's eyes.

Don't cry. Don't cry.

This time Kit couldn't hold it back. So he let himself cry. Tears came streaming down his cheeks as he tried to muffle his sobs with his hand. Deep down he knew it was his fault. It was always his fault.

But with Autumn he had really tried. Sure he wasn't perfect but Kit really cared about her. And it wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough.

Kit couldn't help but think of the last time he felt like this. The last time he was rejected. He had been careful about trying to keep all thoughts of Ty Blackthorn out of his head for awhile. Autumn was a good distraction, even when she was screaming obscenities at him. It was still a distraction.

Kit closed his eyes and conjured the memory of holding Ty up on the roof. If he squeezed his eyes tightly enough, Kit could still feel the softness of his hoodie and the slight tickle of Ty's dark hair against his skin. He could conjure the smell of Ty's skin and the way he had trembled slightly against Kit's body.

I should have kissed him. Kit mused, hugging himself tightly. Just once. Even if Ty had pushed him away in disgust, it would have been worth it. Just to know what it felt like.

Suddenly from the bottom of the bed, Kit's phone lit up with a call. He scrambled to grab it, thinking it was Autumn, but it was actually Janessa. Kit cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound normal as he answered the phone.

"Why are you calling me at 2 am Nessie?"

"The better question is why are you still awake at 2 am," she pointed out, sounding smug. "I'm a vampire. Creature of the night remember? It's kinda prime time for me Kit Kat."

Kit smiled as he felt the previous angst wash away. "Yeah fair enough. But still, why are you calling me?"

Kit heard her sigh into the phone. "Well honestly because this is probably the only time you're free now a days," she said spitefully. "You know thanks to she-who-must-not-be-named." Kit rolled his eyes.

"That's my girlfriend you're talking about, Janessa!" He snapped.

"Well your girlfriend's a total bitch!"

Normally Kit would argue with her and tell her that she was way off base. That Autumn wasn't so bad and that she was trying. That she loved him. But today he just couldn't.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "We got into another fight tonight," he admitted. "Just a few hours ago actually."

"I'm sorry love," Janessa murmed. Nessie wasn't British. She was actually Canadian. But she had moved around the world with her previous band before settling in Devon and leaving them to go solo. She had picked up on some British expressions though.

"I wish you weren't going through this. But Kit, you gotta break up with her! She's bad news!"

Kit rested his face against the palm of his left hand. "I can't," he groaned.

Janessa let out a frustrated yell on the other end of the phone. "What the hell are you planning on doing Kit!? I mean are you just gonna wait into she hits you or what?" She spat.

"She already did," Kit responded instantly without missing a beat.

He gasped and slapped a hand to cover his mouth. Kit had no idea why he actually told her. Impulsivity maybe? Or maybe he just needed to get it out. But he instantly regretted it.

There was a long uncomfortable silence on the other end of the phone. Kit was just about to ask Janessa where she went when suddenly she spoke.

"I'm coming over."

Kit tried to protest but she hung up on him.

Before he had time to panic or scream or throw something, there was an aggressive tapping on his window. Of course. Janessa had vampire speed. He looked up to see Nessie perched on his windowsill looking solem.

Her long black curly hair was pulled into a high ponytail and she wore what by her standards was probably a casual outfit. A black long sleeved low cut crop top and white ripped skinny jeans tucked into thigh high heeled leather boots. And of course, she wore a full face of makeup. Even after the facial feminization surgery she was still a little insecure about going out without makeup on.

Nessie banged on his window again, more impatiently and Kit jumped up to let her in. She landed on his bedroom floor with the grace of a cat, making no sound. She stared at him silently with an expression that Kit found hard to decipher.

"Show me where," she whispered in that deep raspy voice of hers. She reached for his face and Kit let Janessa cradle his face with her hands and tried not to wince as her cold skin came into contact with his.

He shook his head. "No you won't see it, I put an iratze on it already. It's done." Janessa scoffed and stepped back.

"You know the damage isn't just skin deep Kit," she said pointedly. "No matter how much you want to pretend it is."

He glared at her. "Wow that's so insightful Nessie!," he said sarcastically. "What else you got?"

"Oh come on Kit you know I'm right," She hissed. "You have to end it!"

Kit shook his head. Why does she keep saying that?

"No. Why should I?" Kit retorted. "She loves me." He tried to sound as confident as he could, but truthfully he wasn't so sure anymore.

Autumn had gone above and beyond to make Kit feel loved and appreciated yo the point where she was almost obsessive. But she could also be cruel and spiteful. Kit had convinced himself that he should be happy with what he had because it was as good as he was gonna get.

And the sad part was that was still true.

"No she doesn't," Janessa breathed desperately. To Kit's horror, it looked like she was about to cry. Kit couldn't remember if he had ever seen her cry. Not once.

"Somebody who really loved you could never hurt you like that!" She protested shakily, her voice warbled as tears spilled down her face.

Kit could feel his tears returning at the sight of Nessie crying. He rushed towards her and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck. In the comfort of his best friend's embeace he allowed himself to finally sob. He cried for that broken niave part of himself that kept getting hurt.

She rested her chin on the top of his head, (she was taller then him,) and held him close. "Please promise me you will break up with her," Janessa begged.

"I just don't get it," Kit whispered against her skin. "I did everything right. I did everything I could." He blinked back tears. "Why doesn't she love me Nessie?"

He felt her shake against him. "I don't know Kit," she sobbed. "But I love you ok? I love you and your parents love you, and Mina loves you so much!"

Kit sighed, pulling back to wipe his tears. "I know, but what if I, you know-. What if I never find someone? Like romantically?"

Janessa studied him, raising her eyebrow. "Well do you need to find someone? Who is this arbitrary someone who can give you something a friendship can't?"

That's actually a good point.

"I mean," Nessie continued, crossing her arms and shifting her weight. "If you do end up in a relationship then cool, it's whatever. But the way I see it is you shouldn't focus all of your energy on looking because you're gonna end up missing out on some pretty cool stuff in the mean time." She smiled.

Kit thought about it. He knew logically Janessa had a point. But he just couldn't feel it. He was too depressed and defeated. And as ashamed as it made him, Kit still missed Autumn. He tried to smile along with Nessie but it must have looked weak because she looked concerned.

"Hey," she cooed, reaching for him.

"Can you sing to me Nessie?" He asked. Kit  felt a little pathetic but hopefully she wouldn't judge him.

She smiled lovingly at him. "Sure." Janessa took his hand and led him to his bed.

"Any requests?" She asked as she pulled off her boots and lay down on Kit's bed. He followed her, snuggling up against Nessie with his back to her.

"No not really," he murmered, closing his eyes. Kit was finally starting to feel how exhausted he really was.

Janessa wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, resting her head slightly against his shoulder. "Ok," she whispered very softly.

Kit heard her clear her throat softly before the sound of her breathy angelic alto filled his ears.

"I'm turning out the lights, to remember how to see. Till the renaissance takes place, Until a renaissance takes place, and resuscitates the color of paint and divinity."

Kit smiled sleepily at the sound of his enneagram song, something Janessa had introduced him to.

He yawned and let the sound of Nessie's voice lull him to sleep, putting all thoughts of Autumn behind him.

In my head Kit is like 5'4 and Janessa is 5'9. Originally I had her at 5'11 but I wanted her to be closer in height to Kit. Also did I name Kit's abusive girlfriend Autumn after my toxic controlling ex best friend? You bet I did!

Tag list: (you know the deal) @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies   @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @clarys-heosphoros @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan @hardlymatters @the-wckd-powers @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @adoravel-fenomeno

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

It's Just a Movie: Part 22 (Poly!Lost Boys x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: cursing, 80s typical views on homosexuality (but no homophobia just,,,,as accepting as the 80s could be)

Word Count: 2958

This chapter is pretty much exposition/a feel good chapter because we need a break from the tension and also because I said so. Also, the boys are not straight, but it's the 80s so they don't talk about it.

You were stuck back at the cave as the boys took Michael to the bridge, but you knew they wouldn't be taking you. They hadn't taken Laddie or Star, and it would look out of place if they'd taken you. You were almost tempted to make a joke that they wouldn't understand. August 1st, 1987 was a Saturday, but memes didn't exactly exist yet. So, you sat on the couch and tried your best to make a dent in the holy grail of chinese food that Marko had picked up. But, no matter how much you ate, you could still feel something eating you up inside. 

You had to let Michael and Star turn. Diverting from the plot too much would've made it so none of you would know what was next. It was better to follow the story so you'd know what to expect rather than going in blind. You stabbed your takeout a little harder than you needed to as you reminded yourself that. No matter how bad you felt, this was what needed to be done. You just hoped that, before this was all over, you could find a way to apologize to Star and Michael. 

You hadn't heard Star come over to you. You knew that she had probably already tucked Laddie in for an early night, and it wasn't until she was standing right in front of you that you looked up. Her hands were balled into fists, and she was gnawing on her lip. For a moment, you thought perhaps it had been a bad idea for the boys to leave you alone with her. Your mind flashed back to what had happened nearly a month ago, but then Star said,

"How could you? Why did you? You didn't say anything- You-" She threw her hands, frustration clear in her voice. She looked close to tears, and the lump in your throat seemed to only grow larger. "You didn't even try to stop them." She said, but her voice was shaking. You gulped, setting your takeout aside. You were vaguely aware that Star was a half. She was stronger than you, and could probably snap at any moment. You had to be careful, but it seemed you'd gotten your wish a little quicker than you'd thought. You didn't know what to say, but you still stood. She backed away, giving you a small amount of distance and a chance to explain yourself. 

"Star, I didn't-" You started, but you quickly stopped yourself. You had to choose your words carefully, and you decided that lying wasn't the way to go. You were aware of some of the boys abilities, but not of all of them. Whether it was just the boys or not, they always seemed to know when you were telling a lie. And, at the end of the day, you knew the boys were going to change him. So, you whispered a quiet, "I'm sorry." And reached out to hold her clenched hands. You held them for a moment, and finally she relaxed them to take yours instead. She sighed, her body relaxing. While she didn't tell you that she forgave you, you didn't expect her to hold it against you for long. After a moment, she asked again,

"Why? Why didn't you say anything?" And you bit your lip. This was a hard one, but you couldn't just not answer. With the way she looked at you, her brown eyes imploring you to answer. Tears gathering in them. You sighed yourself, cursing her and the way she tugged on your heartstrings. Though, you knew she deserved an explanation.

"I'm," You paused to find the words, glancing away to collect your thoughts. "I'm not in the position to really tell them no, Star. I mean, I'm not-" You tried to find an excuse, one that wasn't Max. That wasn't that you weren't from this world. That wasn't that you were trying to save the boys. "I'm not the one that tells them what to do, or- Or, decides what happens. I'm just-" You hinted as vaguely as you could at the existence of Max, but it was still a weak excuse. You knew she would probably just end up asking why you weren't in that position anyways. To her knowledge, you were the girlfriend to three of them. Surely, you had some level of weight in their decisions. Finally, you came to a solid excuse. "I'm not one of you." You said. It was the best you could come up with, and she sniffled as the look in her eyes changed. It was one of confusion, even if she knew that was true. Then, after a moment, realization filled them. Her grip was tighter as she held your hands, and she let out a small, 

"Oh." Now, it was your turn to be confused. She had given your hands a squeeze, before she dropped them altogether and went to wrap them around your shoulders. She pulled you in for a tight hug, and you awkwardly returned it. You hadn't thought that your response would've worked that well. You didn't know what she was assuming, but you let it slide. Whatever it took to get her to stop asking hard questions, you supposed. She even reached up to pet the back of your head, whispering, "I didn't- I'm- I guess, we're in this together then, huh?" She asked, and you tried not to seem too confused when she pulled away to look at you. You, out of instinct, gave her a nod, and then whispered,

"Yeah." She nodded back, petting your cheek before she took a step back. Her hand slid down from your cheek, down your arm, before she took your hand. Her cold fingers nearly made you shiver, and she gave your hand another squeeze.

"We'll take care of eachother, yeah?" She asked, and you looked between her eyes at the way she stared at you. It was intense, the look in her chocolate brown colored eyes. The slightest tinge of a smile was on her lips, and it compelled you to agree. Finally, after a moment, you gave her another nod. It felt weird, like this exchange had more weight than you'd meant for it to have. But, you thought having Star for an ally wasn't exactly a bad decision. Perhaps it would make it easier to convince Michael that the boys weren't as terrible as he would later think. All you had to do was convince Star first. 

"And she didn't kiss you?" Paul asked later that night. You were telling the boys about it after they'd returned, and both Star and Laddie had fell asleep. Paul was laying on the bed, playing with your jacket while Marko sat next to you, leaning into you. Dwayne sat behind the three of you, back near the pillows with his back against the wall. He reached over, smacking Paul's head. Paul whined, rubbing the spot as he said, "What? I'm just saying! She totally kissed Michael first and it just seems like if I was in her shoes, I would've totally taken that moment to make a move!" You turned your head as Dwayne said,

"Well, Stars not you, dumbass. Plus, she's probably straight." He said, making a point of the word. But Paul scoffed and Marko grinned while he shook his head. Paul, looked up at the brunette, saying,

"If Star's straight, then so is David." And you covered your mouth to muffle your laughter as you looked at the platinum blonde. Marko and Paul didn't even attempt to, even as David narrowed his eyes at both of the blondes. Paul continued with, "I mean, c'mon, David. You have a type. You put that Jim Morrison poster up and Michael's a dead-ringer, so we get it! There's no shame in that!" As the other two died from laughter. David lifted his cigarette to his lips, and then blew smoke at Paul. If he was closer, he probably would've aimed for his face.

"Whatever, Paul. I'll remember this the next time I catch you checking out some guys ass." David retorted, and Paul didn't even look perturbed by his words. He simply shrugged and held up his hands.

"Some dudes have nice asses. Am I supposed to not look?" He asked, and this earned an eye roll from the blonde besides you. When Paul noticed, he balked at the curly-haired blonde. "Oh, don't you try to pretend to be Mr. Heterosexual in front of the babe, Marko. You totally sucked-" But you raised your hands to diffuse the conversation, and escalating voices, before the sun went down. All conversation on the fluidity of their sexualities aside, you had brought this up for a reason. 

"So, what do you think?" You asked David. You hadn't really known what to make of Stars words, and you stared at the boy for some guidance. He was clearly thinking it over, smoking his cigarette as he did so. You had given up on trying to enforce any rules about smoking in your room, to the point where Dwayne even had a cigarette burning in-between his fingers. Finally, he shrugged and said,

"She sees you as her friend. Maybe as someone she can relate to. I don't see any harm in that. As long as you don't plan on switching sides." He said, flicking the end of his cigarette. You scoffed at the sheer ridiculousness of the idea. 

"Oh, yeah. I'm totally ditching you guys for the Frogs." You said sarcastically, and David smiled at your joke. It was nice to see him smile, and you felt as though you hadn't, at least genuinely, seen him do it in awhile. You smiled back, and then asked, "So, how'd it go with Michael?" And you heard a telling chuckle come from all of them. Paul sat up, holding his hands out as he said,

"Michael totally almost pissed himself when the train came." He said, before the boys erupted into a chorus of laughter at the memory. You smiled, finding their laughter contagious. Though, you still felt the need to comment,

"You guys seem to be enjoying this hazing thing, huh?" You asked. You knew that they had to do it for the sake of the movie, but none of them seemed nearly as hung up about it as you did. Well, as much as Star had been making you feel about it. Marko nudged you with his shoulder, saying,

"Well, he totally kills David in that movie, babe. It's nice to get some payback." He said, and you hummed. You supposed he deserved it if you thought about it that way. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Well, he's not going to this time, so don't do anything you don't have to." You said, and they all more or less agreed. It didn't take long after that for Paul to attempt to kick everyone out, but his attempts were proven to be futile when Marko reminded him of their new sleeping arrangements. Paul whined, cuddling up next to you and pulling you close. Eventually, after a brief shared look with Marko, you proposed the idea of Paul staying with you as well. He was quick to agree, and, that night, you laid on your back to accommodate the two sleeping vampires. At one point throughout the day, Marko said,

"Paul, that's me you're grabbing." And both you sleepily giggled at the sound of Pauls hand moving against the sheet as he retracted it, and the small, 

"Oh." That escaped his lips.

The next night was slow. All they needed to do was scare the shit out of Michael and Sam, and then visit Max while Michael went to lay the moves on Star. You, unfortunately, were in a very awkward position. You could come with them when they went to harass the Emerson's, but you definitely couldn't come with them to Max's. And, the boys couldn't necessarily drop you off and pick you back up from the cave, just because Michael would be there. The idea of you hanging out at the boardwalk and waiting for them had been tossed around, but it wasn't until that night that you really considered it. You did not want to be in the cave when Michael came to make his moves. Suddenly, you understood a little bit of how Star must've felt the past few months. 

So, with far too little enthusiasm, you decided that you would wait on the boardwalk for them. You'd kissed them each goodbye, as you didn't have an audience of half-vampires to see it. But, now that you were there, you wholeheartedly regretted that decision. You popped your collar up against the nights chill, doing your best to protect your neck as you walked through the crowds. It was busy, as busy as usual. 

You had walked up and down the boardwalk a million times, but only once without the boys by your side. And never at night. Most of the surf-nazi's stayed in the water during the day, but you quickly found out that they flocked to the boardwalk at night. You didn't know if it was just a build-up of nerves from the movie or if it was the fact that your boys weren't with you, but you practically scurried away the second you heard the sound of a group of teenage to twenty-something year olds gathering on the boardwalk. After wandering around the boardwalk for a little while, you passed the Frogs comic store. Inside, you could hear Alan say,

"Okay, we'll come over and do it for you." And your ears perked. You paused for a moment near the outside stack, listening to Edgar say,

"Well, you better get a garlic tshirt, buddy, or it's your funeral." Edgar hung up the phone that they'd been previously crowded around, and you saw the pair of them notice you. They didn't look pleased to see you, and you guessed your biweekly visits turning into nearly daily wasn't exactly a welcome sight. You didn't spare them a smile, and you simply let the comics slip back into their spots before you turned and walked away. The Frogs' eyes followed you the entire time until you were no longer in sight.

When the boys finally caught up with you only about an hour and a half later, you were relieved at the sight of them. The five of you were able to have a night alone, and, after the usual rounds, you decided to ditch the boardwalk for one of your favorite all-night diners.

You squeezed into a corner booth, getting stuck between Marko and David. The five of you ate, laughed, and, finally, relaxed. It felt nice to let loose, and you took the opportunity to lay your head on David's shoulder as you laughed along with your boys. You were able to hold David's hand, and you didn't have to consciously think about monitoring your actions. It felt good. Nice. They played rounds of paper football, and Marko started an almost violent game of spitball. It only ended when one of them spit one at Dwayne and it got caught in his hair, and he even sent you a look when you couldn't stop giggling.

While you were having a good time, you knew that, eventually, the four of them had to eat. And you knew diner food wasn't going to help. So, after lots of promising to Paul, you were allowed one more solo ride on his bike. Even after you'd kissed and said goodbye to all of them, he stood in front of you, held the handlebars, and stared at you with the most serious expression you'd ever seen on his face.

"You did good last time, but that doesn't mean you should be any less careful. Darling? Sugar? Pudding pop? I love you, but, please, don't crash my baby." You gave him a small smile, and a small tilt of your head. You were almost positive that he hadn't even realized he'd said those words to you, and you leaned forward to press a kiss on one cheek, the other cheek, and then on his lips. It made his serious expression falter, and you could tell he was melting by how his arms began to buckle. 

"I promise, okay? I love you too." You told him, your voice quieting as you returned the words. You watched his brain short-circuit and quickly reboot, trying its best to comprehend what had just happened. You didn't warn him that Marko and Dwayne were walking closer, as he was far too busy to notice. Before he could say anything else, Dwayne grabbed him by the back of his jacket and yanked him away from the bike. 

"She's not gonna crash it, dude. Just let her ride. Now, I'm starving, so c'mon. Bye, babe." Marko said, half-dragging half-leading Paul towards his bike. You mouthed a "thank you" to the both of them, and called a final goodbye to all of them as you pulled your helmet on. They watched as you revved the engine to life, and then lurched forward to head towards Hudson's Bluff. You didn't see how Paul swayed for a moment, a wistful smile on his face as he repeated the words over and over in his mind. He turned to the boys, a bigger grin growing on his face. 

"Did you guys hear that?" He asked, and they almost wished you hadn't said it just so they wouldn't have to hear Paul talk about it the entire ride to the beach. Whether that was out of annoyance or envy, they preferred not to think about it.

[detectivereyes]

Even If You Stumble A Step, You’re Still Moving Forward

Summary: TK and Carlos move into their new home post-finale and TK doesn't exactly make the best first impression on their new neighbors...

Notes: this was like a fever dream i had a few months ago and then i stopped writing but decided to revive it last night so... here we are. also title creds (and emotional support creds) to jillian @marjansmarwani​ because this fic wouldn’t exist without her. and also s/o to brit @moviegeek03​ for being extra supportive of yet another fic where [spoiler] tk falls down the stairs again :/

read on ao3

TK shuffles through the maze of boxes stacked several feet high throughout their new home. The scene shouldn’t surprise him considering it was only a few months ago he was moving his own boxes into their old home. However it feels different knowing that most of this stuff isn’t actually theirs.

Well, it is theirs now he figures. But the fact remains that most of the stuff filling the space was either given to them by various members of the extended 126 family, or was recently purchased by TK or Carlos on one of their many trips to Bed Bath and Beyond. 

They had taken their time searching for a new place to live. Owen had made it clear that they were both welcome to stay with him (and Mateo) for as long as they needed, but TK had known it was time.

So when a townhome popped up on Zillow that met all their criteria, they wasted no time booking an appointment with the realtor. They both had instantly fallen in love with the open floor plan and deck out back. Plus they knew the extra bedrooms upstairs may come in handy someday.

While they knew the vertical layout of the home itself wasn’t the best, having more stairs than either of them were used to, it checked every other box and was right in their price range so they had wasted no time signing the lease.

A few days had passed since settlement and now most of their days were spent trying to unpack and make this new house into a home. It would never replace the one they had lost, but it had been exciting to build this new home together.

Though on this particular day, TK found himself alone in trying to get settled in since Carlos had a shift. With the 126 still out of commission, possibly forever, and the department not having any openings for paramedics, most of the unpacking was left for TK.

After getting a good chunk of the living room done, he checks the time and decides to go out and see if the mail has come yet. Not that he’s expecting anything with their address still being so new, and not getting much physical mail anyway to begin with. But it still provided a good excuse to take a break.

TK opens the front door and starts to make his way down the set of stairs leading down. 

He makes it about halfway before his attention is caught by one of his new next door neighbors, Mr. Martin- if he remembers correctly, exiting at the same time. Mr. Martin gives a friendly wave and TK goes to return the gesture.

Except, he’s not paying attention when he takes the next step, and he misses, his heel just barely hitting the edge of the step before he starts to go down. He tumbles until he comes to a hard stop at the bottom, with most of his weight coming down on his right knee, sending shooting pains up and down his leg.

The rest of his body is sore, and by the time his ears stop ringing, he can just barely make out a new female voice asking “Sir, are you okay?”

He opens his eyes, which he had not even realized he had squeezed shut at some point, to see his neighbor, Mrs. Bailey- his brain supplies, from across the street making her way over to check on him, worried lines painting across her forehead.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m fine,” he grimaces while pushing himself up to a seated position. He tries to hide the blush forming on his cheeks. Not the best way to make a good first impression on his neighbors.

“Are you sure, son? We can call for help if you need it. Someone you know, or 9-1-1?” Mr. Martin joins in the conversation.

“No!” TK interjects too quickly, startling both neighbors. He panics for a moment when the weight of the predicament settles in. He meets the gaze of both figures still staring at him, clearly concerned and waiting for him to say something. “I mean, I’m a paramedic. I’m fine. Or I will be fine. Thank you,” he flashes them both a quick smile before pushing himself up off the ground, ignoring the sharp pains that radiate from his knee when he tries to put any weight on it.

Getting back up the stairs is no easy feat, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know that both Mr. Martin and Mrs. Bailey are still watching him, concerned. Fortunately, they don’t know him well enough to try and follow or help. He’s not sure he would feel comfortable enough receiving help from some strangers. Half the time he doesn’t even feel comfortable receiving help from the people he does know.

He leans heavily on the railing, refusing to turn around out of fear of further mortification. Once he’s inside the home, he collapses right inside the hall, unable to go any further since his knee decided to stop cooperating.

A few tears pool in his eyes, and he’s unsure if that’s due to the pain or embarrassment. Not knowing what else to do, he takes out his phone and shoots a quick text to Carlos.

TK: we have to move

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for the three dots to pop up before being replaced by Carlos’ response.

Carlos: ???

TK sighs and rubs his face, trying to figure out the best way to explain the situation.

TK: i feel down the stairs out front and all the neighbors saw

Carlos: Holy shit, are you okay??

He lets out a puff of air at that.

TK: you mean besides my bruised ego?

TK: no, i hurt my knee but i’m fine. that’s not the issue here.

Carlos: Okay, I’ll be home in an hour and you can let me be the judge of that. If I see any swelling, we’re going to the doctor.”

He rolls his eyes at Carlos’ worry. At worst, it’s a bad sprain, nothing that can’t be fixed with some icing and wrapping. But there are other things they need to worry about.

TK: you’re missing the point, carlos. the entire neighborhood thinks i’m an idiot. we can’t live here anymore.

TK knows he’s being dramatic, but the more he thinks about it, the more embarrassed he gets. The idea that these are people he’s going to have to continue to face everyday for the foreseeable future. And that now all they’ll be able to think about when they do see him. Now he’ll just be known as the guy who can’t walk down stairs.

Carlos: Relax, TK. I’ll be home soon.

TK: you mean our temporary place of residence which we will soon be moving out of

He doesn’t get a response after that. 

His mind continues to spiral while he waits for Carlos to arrive. He knows the other man is likely climbing the walls trying to leave his shift early but it would still be awhile before he could be allowed to leave.

Left alone with his thoughts, his mind keeps playing out the series of events that happened minutes ago. He can't help but beat himself up over embarrassing himself like that. Ironically enough, it’s not even the first time he’s fallen down stairs, having taken a tumble down the stairs in Carlos’ place a few months back. And of course he would manage to injure himself that time, and this time as well.

He should at least try to get up so he can find an ice pack to lessen the swelling. Sitting on the floor up against the wall can’t be doing his knee any favors. Yet he can’t bring himself to move, instead resting his head back against the wall and sighing.

TK pulls out his phone again, cycling through the apps until he hears the tell-tale keys jingling in the already unlocked door.

As soon as Carlos steps through the door, he nearly trips over TK in the doorway. “Woah, hey! TK, are you okay?” he crouches down to TK’s level.

TK shrugs. Now that he’s face to face with Carlos, he can’t help but feel suffocated by another person judging him, even if Carlos’ worry comes from a place of concern.

“Can I take a look at your knee?”

TK nods, allowing Carlos to gently inspect his swollen joint. He winces as Carlos traces his hand around his kneecap.

“This doesn’t look good, babe. I think we need to go to the hospital.”

“No, it’s fine,” he quickly shakes his head. The worried look in Carlos’ eyes only makes his heart ache, and he can only try to find ways to make it go away. “Just help me up and we can ice it. It will look better once the swelling goes down a bit.”

Carlos gives him a look that screams I don’t believe you but sighs. “Fine, but if it doesn’t…”

“I know, I know. You’ll drag my ass to the emergency room,” TK gives him a reassuring smile.

Carlos returns the smile, and extends a hand to help TK up. TK accepts, and allows Carlos to take on most of his weight once he’s standing. They slowly make their way over to the living room, with Carlos softly depositing TK onto the sofa. He then disappears into the kitchen before returning with an ice pack in hand.

“Thanks,” TK smiles, trying to mask the wince as Carlos places the pack onto his knee.

“Do you want to watch an episode of The Office?” Carlos asks, picking up the remote and settling in the spot next to TK.

TK shrugs, knowing that Carlos is just trying to appeal to him by offering to put on his favorite show. The other man doesn’t even like the show that much, often finding the humor dry and tasteless, but TK thinks he just doesn’t get it.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?”

There it is.

“I just can’t believe I did that in front of our new neighbors. They probably think I’m an idiot.”

“I’m sure no one thinks you’re an idiot, TK,” Carlos gently reassures him.

“Yeah all the neighbors saw me make an idiot of myself,” TK sighs exasperatedly. “God, how am I supposed to face these people everyday now?”

“Hate to break it to you babe, but this is not a valid reason for us to move.”

“I know,” he sighs again.

“Besides,” Carlos continues. “If your track record has proven anything, it’s that this won’t be the last medical emergency at our new home. It’s good that the neighbors are getting used to it now.”

TK gives him a pointed look.

“I’m pretty sure this is the second time you’ve fallen down the stairs since we’ve started dating,” Carlos says with a light chuckle.

“Whatever,” TK scoffs. “At least the other time it wasn’t in front of total strangers.”

Carlos softens. “That’s true. But I’m sure the neighbors just care about you. I don’t think this is that big of a deal, TK.”

“You weren’t there though. It was mortifying.”

“What did they say, exactly?”

TK nervously looks down. “They asked if I was okay. And if I needed any help.”

Carlos raises his eyebrow, waiting to see if TK continues. 

“They offered to call for help but I said no and went back inside.”

“See? They just care about you TK. I haven’t really talked to anyone yet but they seem like nice people.”

“I guess,” TK shrugs.

“I know, you’re still embarrassed. But if nothing else, they’ll probably forget about it by the next time we see them.”

“You don’t think I’ll be known as the ‘clumsy neighbor who can’t walk down stairs’?”

“Maybe the ‘cute clumsy neighbor that can’t walk down stairs,’” Carlos says with a smirk. “But we could always change that.”

TK cocks his head to the side. 

“You think our new neighbors might enjoy some peach scones when we go over and have a proper introduction?”

“You really plan to charm our new neighbors with your baking?” 

“You think it will work?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then yes, I do,” Carlos grins proudly. He then leans over and gently removes the ice pack from TK’s knee, grimacing at what he sees. “This still looks pretty swollen, babe. I think we need to go to the hospital.”

TK gives him a pained smile. “You sure I can’t talk my way out of this?”

“Nope,” Carlos says, popping the p. He stands up before extending his hand to help TK do the same.

TK accepts, shifting his weight and leaning into Carlos once he’s fully upright. 

“You know, I think you may have a paramedic blindspot when it comes to your own health.”

TK lets out a light laugh. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”

A week later, Carlos softly knocks on the door of Mrs. Bailey’s home across the street with one hand and a plate of peach scones in the other. TK had offered to hold the scones but when they went over to Mr. Martin's home earlier in the day, it was quickly discovered it was too difficult for him to manage getting up the stairs and holding the plate.

So he settles for letting Carlos do most of the work while he awkwardly limps up the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing to keep some pressure off his knee.

After their quick trip to the emergency room, it had been determined that TK’s initial assessment was right and it was just a bad sprain. He was given a brace to help reduce the pain and a pair of crutches, which (much to Carlos’ dismay) he abandoned after only two days, citing that they only made it harder to get around their home which he can now say for certain has too many damn stairs.

A problem which seems to follow him as he also has to get up the stairs to greet his neighbors.

“Maybe we should have moved to a neighborhood of single level homes,” he states with a wince as he joins Carlos at the front door.

Carlos snorts. “We can take it into consideration if we ever have to move again.”

“God, please don’t say that. I don’t want to think about moving ever again.”

“Good,” Carlos gives him a soft smile. “Because I’m planning on staying here for the long run.”

“Me too,” TK returns the smile just as Mrs. Bailey opens the door.

“What a lovely surprise!” she exclaims taking in the sight of the two men. 

“Hello ma’am,” Carlos says with a polite smile.

“We brought you some scones,” TK adds, gesturing to the plate in Carlos’ hands.

“Oh how thoughtful of you. Please come in. How are you doing?” she asks, turning to TK. “I’ve been worried.”

He exchanges a look with Carlos, the other man's face clearly saying I told you she cares, before turning back to Mrs. Bailey.

“I’m fine, ma’am. Thank you for asking. It’s just a bad sprain. But I do appreciate your concern, especially the other week.”

“Oh, of course dear,” she says with a warm smile. “Now, you boys aren’t going to make me eat these scones all by myself are you?”

They both let out a light chuckle and exchange another glance before following their new neighbor, and friend inside.

[legends-live-in-memories]

Purple Lilacs

ayooo it me! Here is jasonette july saturday challenge: Hurt no comfort!

Maribat Masterlist  AO3

word count: 3.1K

Warnings: mentions of body fluids, sickness, vomit and death. 

without further ado:   

Jason stumbled into the gas station restroom on shaky, unsteady legs. His chest ached and his vision swam, blurry with unshed tears. The dirty mirror and pale blue light couldn’t capture how disgruntled the fourteen year old boy was. He was still wearing his Robin suit, dirty and sweaty from breaking up fights and catching would-be criminals. His skin felt flushed but his blood was chilled to the bone. The fluttery pressure behind his ribs was a painful reminder of why he was here. He took a haphazard inhale of air and choked on it when he exhaled. His throat itched. The tears were beginning to fall behind his mask. The infallible Robin was unrecognizable in his reflection. His domino mask shielded himself from the agony that clouded his eyes. His mind was racing a thousand miles a minute, thoughts fragmented and disoriented. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. God, why couldn’t he breathe?

He ripped off his mask, tossing it without caution and splashed water on his face. He scrubbed at the sweat and exhaust that caked his skin, hoping, praying to wash this burning sensation away. He still couldn’t breathe.

He felt his stomach churn. He felt the bile clawing just beneath his adam's apple, desperate to escape. He barely had the strength to lean over to the nearby toilet before emptying his stomach. The smell burned at his eyes as the taste burned at his throat. He was left dry heaving for a moment, but that was all his body needed to expel what was clogging his airways. The petals floated pathetically in the waste in the toilet bowl; they were small and pale and stood out against the disgusting mix of vomit. Purple lilacs, first love. How fitting.

He had wished that the best week of his life wouldn’t end this way. He had wished, wished upon the stars in the skies and wished upon every dandelion he found in the manor gardens, that he could have something, someone, that was entirely his own. But her heart belonged to another and his heart was sick because of it.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Her name was a breath of fresh air, a spring breeze in early May. He had met her on a Monday, her class was taking a tour of Wayne Tech. She was the cute yet clumsy class representative with an iron will. She was alluring and charming and Jason was swept up in her eyes of ocean tides. He never spoke a word to her that first day. Choosing to just observe her joke and laugh with friends. He didn’t dare interrupt her. He saw her again Tuesday. She was in a teahouse that was close to her hotel. She was with her brunette friend, Alya, he remembered from when he overheard her chastising the girl for saying something embarrassing. That was when he found out about her crush on the model boy. Jason didn’t think much of it. He didn’t think he would have to. His sudden attraction was only fleeting, he reminded himself.

The first time he actually spoke to her was Thursday night. Her class had stayed out later than expected so he watched them from a distance during patrol, making sure she got back safely. Making sure they got back safely, he corrected. He didn’t plan to stop by her window when she was safe inside and he definitely didn’t plan to strike up a conversation. She had a quick mind and a sharp tongue to match. It was striking and it seeded something deep within his lungs. They spoke for hours, time lost to conversation, that it wasn’t until Agent A called into his ear that he realised how long he’s been strayed from his patrol route.  He had bid her a good night and she wished him a safe one. He had found a friend in her and the joy carried him throughout the night. He hadn’t expected to fall hard and fast for her within the week. By Saturday his instinctual attraction had grown into sweet yearning. The weight in his chest as he waited for her class to gather in the Botanical Gardens grounded him in his spot. He had to remind himself that she spoke to him as Robin and that Jason Todd-Wayne was nothing more than their sponsor’s recently adopted son. He couldn’t speak to her about her favourite novels as he technically shouldn’t be privy to that knowledge. He wasn’t deterred by that, however. In fact, it spurred him on to get to know her more. It granted him the opportunity to relearn her interests all over again and watch her eyes blaze with passion.

He never got the chance. Her attention was divided between the garden’s attractions and the blond that stuck close to her like a burr. He watched her giggle and swoon as the boy complimented her. He watched as Adrien, he had learned, plucked a flower and tucked it gently behind her ear. It was a purple lilac. The colour complimented her midnight black hair and made her pale blue eyes shine. He felt his throat go dry as he watched on, his words withering on his tongue. The scene was truly adorable, straight out of a movie with a happy ending. He was happy that she was receiving the attention she deserved. But it still hurt that it wasn’t him lavishing her with it. He was the outsider lucky to be watching. Their tour ended with an exchange of business-friendly smiles and memorized platitudes.

Now it was Sunday night and he was gazing at the products of his foolish heart. He could count how few the petals were that mocked him in the toilet. He could taste them in the mix of bile that sat on the back of his tongue. He could breathe easier now; his lungs were no longer heavy but his heart was still so. How cruel, his first love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had died. He hadn’t remembered much of what came before or of what came after. It was all tangled and fractured. He remembered fighting with Bruce a lot and threatening his new ward. Jason was awful, a danger, but he was also angry and confused. He was hurt and lonely. It took awhile to find some common ground with his family again. It took awhile for him to feel normal again. It was hard work but it was worth it.

A lot had changed in Bruce’s nightlife. The Justice League Jason remembered and the Justice League that he returned to were worlds apart. It was jarring and he continued to long for some familiarity in his life. It was genuinely a surprise when he was invited to join their ranks, after years of struggling, but he accepted the offer with a tearful hug and grateful smile in the privacy of the batcave. He was introduced to the other new recruits, taken aback at how the community had grown during his absence. One figure stood out to him the most.

Her name was Ladybug, a Parisian heroine with some connection to Wonder Woman. Her personality was bright and bubbly and she looked like the poster child for the Justice League. She and Jason had hit it off quite well, slipping into easy banter and trading battle stories like old-age friends. Their time spent together left him feeling light and free. It was casual and comforting. Until it wasn’t.

One night after patrol, he stood staring at his reflection in his bathroom mirror. He was running through a checklist in his head of all the mundane things he had to do in the coming days. A trip to the drugstore for some cough drops, a couple cases to report and file here, some League meetings there. It was his new normal. He liked it. The thought of the Justice League led to the thought of Ladybug. Ladybug and her laughter at his jokes. Her half-hearted sneer at his puns. Her going on rants about fashion and the little twitch in her nose when she was frustrated with something. It was endearing, and enticing. It was always a delight watching someone who flung cars for a living lose their patience over mundane things. He was lost in thought when a coughing fit took over, bringing him back to the present. When his shoulders stopped shaking with the force of the coughs he felt something in his mouth. It felt like a piece of paper, thin and small. Thinking nothing of it, he spat into his sink and felt his heart clench. It was a single flower petal. A daffodil, meaning rebirth and new beginnings.

The  melancholy was instant, the resignation almost stopping his heart. How cruel, his second love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had decided to ignore the signals his body was sending him. He ignored the scratchiness of his throat every time he thought of her signature pigtails. He ignored the ever growing collection of petals that would decorate his toilet, or his bathroom sink, or his kitchen sink, or his shower floor. He ignored how blood had started to appear every now and again. Ladybug was his friend and he valued her friendship. He wasn’t going to let some biological imperative prevent him from making any meaningful connection with her.

It was a random conversation one day, the topic of little importance, but it had drifted to a discussion of identities and living the double life. He remembered telling her his real name, secret identities among League members being a matter of personal discretion at this point, and the flash of faint recognition in her eyes made him curious. She told him how she recognised the name from a school trip she took years ago. Apparently they had met once or twice during her time in Gotham. Her name was Marinette, she had said, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

It was as if the air in the Watchtower was being siphoned out the room as the seconds ticked by. He remembered that name, and he most certainly remembered the pain that name had brought him. He died with his feelings for her trapped between his ribs but they were long forgotten, withered after his resurrection. That is, until they crashed into him at the mere utter of her name. The longing came back in full force and he felt it weigh heavy on his tongue as his nose started to burn with the effort to breathe. He didn’t remember much after that conversation beyond a hasty excuse of himself. He made it into a restroom on some random floor and all but flung himself into an available stall. His mask was ripped off his face and the room echoed with the sounds of him hacking and heaving.

His heart was a cacophony of emotions; the feelings of teenage infatuation for Marinette Dupain-Cheng and the mature adoration of Ladybug blended into a concoction of purple lilacs and daffodils. Tears pricked at his eyes as he felt his throat get burned raw from his emotions. It was stifling and all-consuming. He felt like he was drowning and free-falling all at once. Unable to breathe. His face was flushed and sticky and he felt shivers begin to creep up his spine. It was disgusting how his own feelings would betray him like this. Peeling himself off the floor was herculean. Jason felt weary and his bones ached with the burden of his own body. Superman was already waiting for him outside the stall, a water bottle in hand and silent condolences smeared all over his face. A silent agreement was forged between them. How cruel, his one love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Jason was younger he never associated love with pain. Love was always warm hugs and soft touches. It was gentle words whispered in the dark and saccharine sweet smiles. Love made flowers bloom in spring and the sun shine bright. How foolish he was. Now he knew. Love was a deep ache in his chest that pulsed in rhythm with his heart. It was a strangled gasp as he tried to breathe and it was tears that won’t stop falling. Love made flowers bloom, sure, but they bloomed in the deepest parts of him that he wished he could rip them out and everything attached straight from the roots. Love burned and festered and invaded everything that made Jason himself.

He couldn’t drown out the sensations no matter what he tried. A masochistic part of him was convinced he was addicted to the pain. Addicted to the reminder that he could love so strongly, so deeply. The idea that someone as callous as he could love someone so much that it could tear him down physically and mentally. Have the force of his own heart mold him into nothing but a garden of devotion. There was a part of him that didn’t want to lose the feeling of having feelings. The immediate times after his resurrection were wrought with nothing but mind-numbing emptiness so much so that his subconsciousness convinced him that he would settle for suffering as an act of love.

The tulip petals were beautiful, but worrying. He choked up an entire bud this time. His throat was still itchy and his fever had yet to be broken but the head of the flower in his hand was a distraction to all that had ailed him. Tulips, meaning opportunity and adjustment.

The voices on the television called his attention. It was some celebrity gossip channel and he couldn’t remember why he was watching it in the first place. He moved to change the channel when he saw her, Marinette, on the screen. She was attending some red carpet event and she looked beautiful. He wondered if she had made that dress; a memory of teenage ambitions floated to the forefront of his mind. A smile crept to his face against his will. He couldn’t help it, red was truly her colour. Then he saw him, her blond partner, waltz up beside her like he belonged there. He did, he reminded himself. The blond was her childhood crush turned boyfriend of a few years. She had told Jason stories during one of their many talks about him. He was funny and smart and a real casanova, she had said. Jason had pretended like those words weren’t thorns puncturing his lungs as he listened along. She looked at the model the same way Jason knew he looked at her. He was happy for her, truly.

His fever was back tenfold as he watched on and he was sweating a puddle into his couch. He couldn’t finish his meal and the coughs had returned. His shaking had overturned his food that was in his lap and it made a mess on the floor. He keeled over and added the contents of his stomach to the pile. Petals of lilacs and daffodils and tulips were pouring from his lips in clumps and he momentarily couldn’t breathe. He was becoming too accustomed to holding his breath during these fits. Becoming too accustomed to the lightheaded feeling inside his brain, the numbing feeling in his toes and the burning feeling in his heart. How cruel, his true love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. She was supposed to get her happy ending. She was supposed to grow old with her boyfriend turned fiance while Jason buried himself with his feelings. He cradled her close, feeling her faint exhales on his neck. He felt her body tremble and writhe beneath him. He was crying over her, gasping his breaths and gagging on emotions. She stared, eyes unseeing beyond him. She was speaking but he couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of his pulse in his ears. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was a simple job, a covert job that was only information retrieval. Everything was planned to perfection and every deviation was accounted for. Everything was accounted for except his body failing him. He was attacked with a sudden coughing fit that he couldn’t get under control and it drew their target’s attention to them. Guns were aimed and fired at them and he couldn’t get his own body to cooperate with him. Ladybug had taken to shielding him until he recovered but she was overwhelmed too quickly. Her suit wasn’t bullet proof, she was still vulnerable and the shot was in a critical place. She was bleeding profusely. He. Still. Couldn’t. Breathe.

He gathered what little strength he had and dragged her body behind a wall. He was hunched over her struggling to control his breathing and the situation. He couldn’t leave, too weak to carry her. He couldn’t fight back, too dizzy to focus on any targets. He couldn’t think, too lightheaded from the lack of air intake. It was a bad situation that was only getting worse. He was crying and heaving and she laid beneath him bleeding. The flowers in the back of his throat were choking him without remorse. He took off his mask and tried with all his might to breathe in. It was scratchy and rough and it felt more like a wheeze than an inhale but it was something. With this moment of clarity, he had an idea. It was really a last resort that Ladybug had told him about. He reached for her yoyo that was held in her hand and pressed the center dot that was actually a hidden button. It was a distress call that would signal to her partner and doubled as a homing device. It was a call for help. He didn’t know how long it would take for aid to arrive but this was all he could do at the given time. His lungs were still stuffed and his throat was overflowing. The petals were stuck between his teeth, their earthy taste rooting him. His limbs were growing heavier by the second and his vision was getting hazier.

He watched as the light faded from her eyes. As the shimmering blue dimmed permanently. He watched her rosy cheeks grow pale as blood poured out from the wound in her chest. He tried to cradle her closely, to offer her some form of comfort in her last moments but he could barely move. Another coughing fit racked his frame and involuntarily had him doubling over. The petals were flowing freely now, unrestricted from his relaxing airways. They were beautiful in colour as they joined the ever growing pool of her blood, only tainted by the dark red tinge of his own.

A new petal had joined the ones he had grown so familiar with. Yellow chrysanthemums, neglected love. In France, he thought, his mind muddled by a discordance of feelings, chrysanthemums also meant death; they were given as tokens of grief and comfort. How fitting.

Oh and how cruel, his last love.

[tellmealovestory]

At Last

Summary: requested by @manymanyenvelopes so buck and reader are both avengers and they fell in love after being friends, then they confessed, yada yada, but they didn't immediately have sex, when they initially confessed their feelings, just cause that wasn't important. so now they they are getting closer and further in their relationship and have to deal with the awkwardness of finally sleeping together. even though it's what they both really want, I just imagine there being some hesitancy and awkwardness. maybe one or the other is worried about being disappointing, or they just feel so excited that it's overwhelming?

Notes: Once again I am so sorry that this took me forever! Also posted on my ao3.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, angst if you squint, fluff. 

Steady hands. 

You tell Bucky one time that's what he has. Countless missions out on the field, enemies rushing at him, friends and strangers counting on him and you’ve never once seen his hands shake. Not so much as a tremor when he’s stitching you up in poorly lit bathrooms in foreign countries after missions gone wrong. Waking from nightmares, breathing heavily, hands that clench around blankets, but still, not so much as a tremble. A confession of feelings and a slew of awkward first dates, the first time he has his hands beneath your shirt exploring new skin and his hands are still steady. It becomes something you're so use to seeing that when you finally do see his hands shake you’re caught off guard.

Laying beneath him on soft sheets in an apartment that’s too small, but it’s yours and it’s homey you’re mesmerized by the way his hand shakes as he helps you out of your shirt. He murmurs a quiet sorry when he sees you staring, presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before grabbing the pillow by your head. 

“Buc-,” you start, but it’s all you get out before his mouth is slanting over yours and swallowing down the last two letters of his name. In the dark recesses of your mind you know that you should talk about this, but he makes it so hard to think when his kisses leave your head spinning and your body yearning for more. 

Short nails rake down the back of his neck and he’s groaning into your mouth, the sound sending jolts of need straight to your core. Hitching your leg around his waist to pull him closer you’re left gasping when he breaks the kiss. He gives you enough time to catch your breath and then his mouth is back on yours while the fingertips of his metal hand slowly stroke along your side.

The cool metal is a welcome relief against your heated skin, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a little surprising. You can count on one hand the number of times he's used his metal hand on you and though it feels good when it slides further up your side, fingertips brushing along the lace trim fabric of your bra it's still an unusual move from him. Again, you know that you should talk about this, but your mind and body are waging two different wars, torn between talking and giving in to the way that he makes you feel. 

Half lidded eyes and you're letting out breathy little pants of anticipation when he kisses his way across your cheek and down your neck. Head tilting to the side, hands roaming over broad shoulders, one flesh and one metal then down the taut muscles of his back. The little grunts he lets out against the crook of your neck spur you on and his name tumbles from wet and swollen lips in a broken chant when he finds your pulse point. Mouth sucking bruises into your skin, light sheen of sweat covering your face and chest, already so close, but it's not close enough. Weight heavy, hand switching to your other breast, mouth moving down to your throat in open mouth kisses.

Muscles ripple beneath roaming hands, his thigh grinds with a little more force against your core and you feel like you're out to sea adrift in a wave of overwhelming pleasure, but the feeling doesn't last. 

Sliding his hand from your breast to the curve of your back you're sitting up just enough for him to reach the clasp of your bra. What should take him no more than a few seconds after months of practice has him fumbling tonight. Letting out a quiet fuck he follows it up with another sorry and it's enough for the fog in your mind to clear. The last time you saw him like this was the first time your relationship moved to the physical side, but that was months ago. Lowering your leg from around his waist he shifts his position and your knee jabs him in his rib. Even with his super soldier serum you don't miss the way he hisses or the way his metal fingers unintentionally pinch the skin of your back. 

It's a flurry of movement, a chorus of mumbled apologies and quiet reassurances that he's okay, that you're okay, it's you sitting up and swatting his hand away, your fingers rubbing where he pinched you, it's him sitting up on his knees, heat rising to your face and hiding behind your hands. It's silly worries and unfound doubts that flow through your veins and cloud your mind. 

"Think the solution is you shouldn't wear bras anymore,” he quips, but the lightheartedness in his voice doesn’t reach his eyes. Hovering over your body he kisses your forehead before murmuring a soft come on and gently pulling your hands away from your face. 

“You would suggest that.” Hint of a smile on his face and he’s dipping his head down to kiss you, but it’s not the same. Unlike the long, drawn out kisses of earlier that left you panting and needing him, these kisses are chaste, hesitant almost and unlike earlier when his hands were exploring your body he keeps them steady on the pillows by your head as if he’s afraid of touching you.

Frustration bubbles up and it’s impossible to get lost in his kisses. It feels like each of you are going through the motions, minus the usual love and passion that flows through. It’s not anyone’s fault and logically you know that, but you can’t help feeling as if the reason neither of you seem able to cross this last physical line is somehow because of you. 

Mind reeling you barely register the feel of his lips working their way back down your neck in a half hearted attempt to fix this night. 

“Buck?” 

A warm puff of air and you’re squirming beneath him when his tongue circles over the earlier bruise he left you. Pushing  his shoulder he gets the hint, mouth pulling away and he’s staring down at you and licking his lower lip.

“What’s going on?” Your voice comes out softer than you want it to. Arms laying limp at your side, strap of your bra twisted around your shoulder and you don’t miss the subtle way he swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion or the pastel pink that blooms onto his cheeks in a blink and you’ll miss it moment, but he covers it all with a quick and charming smile.

“Well,” he drawls, lowering his mouth again, but you turn your head to the side and his lips land on your cheek. “I was tryin’ to make out with my beautiful girlfriend.”

Another time his joke and compliment would have your heart soaring and a smile stretched so wide on your face it would hurt. Another time you'd be laughing, telling him compliments will you get you everywhere, Barnes with an exaggerated wink because you know it makes him laugh. Tonight though his words don't land the same.

Lifting your hand to his cheek, stubble scratching at your palm you search the depths of his blue grey eyes for a clue into what’s going on with him. Coming up empty you struggle to find the right set of words.

“I’m serious, Bucky,” you say softly, fingers stroke along the jaw you’re convinced was sculpted by the gods. "It's okay to be nervous. I know this is a big step for us."

"Who says I'm nervous?" He says it with such confidence that you want to believe him desperately, maybe if you didn't know him as well as you do you would. You've been together long enough to know when he's lying, when he's hiding things from you and you shoot him a withering look, one that leaves him blushing again and lets you both know he's full of shit.

"I don't know," you drawl, borrowing a page from his book. Fingers dance along his chin and when he tilts his head into the palm of your hand you again think about how easy it would be to shelve this conversation and kiss him until your lips are swollen and the only thing on each of your minds is the overwhelming pleasure of being together. "Maybe it has something to do with your hand shaking. Or the way you were barely touching me and when you did touch me you treat me like glass or mayb-"

"That's not it." 

You wait a beat for him to elaborate on what it is if he's not nervous, but he stays silent, steely eyes drifting to the headboard. You can practically see the concrete walls going up around him, but you refuse to let him shut you out. Tilting his face back to yours you peck his lips and murmur, "So what is it?"

"It's been awhile." 

A heavy sigh tumbles out and you swear your neighbors in the next apartment over can hear it. He rolls off of you and onto his back, legs spread wide and you want to find humor in the way he's stretched out and filling your bed with the pale pink sheets. Missing the weight of him on you and the way his hot skin kept you warm you shiver. Reaching down to cover yourself with one of your discarded shirts or a blanket his words stop you dead in your tracks. A heaviness laces his voice, your heart sinks into your chest and the sound of sheets rustling fills the space as he sits up, back flush against the pile of pillows you insist on keeping at all times. "What if I'm not any good?"

You swear you're going to get whiplash with how quickly you turn to face him. Creases line his forehead, hands ball into fists at his side, shoulders slumped, mouth tilted downward in a frown and all you can manage is to whisper an Oh, Bucky because how could he ever think that? Without giving it a second thought you climb into his lap. Straddling his waist, legs falling open on either side of his thick thighs you cup his cheeks, tilting his face up so he’s forced to look at you.

A whirlwind of thoughts blow through your mind, your mouth closes and opens and you stare down at the man you love trying to find the words that will appease the doubts coursing through his veins. 

“Why would you even say something like that?” You blurt. It’s not smooth nor is it close to what you want to say, but your outburst has the barest of smiles curling his lips up. 

A lift of his shoulders and you watch the concrete wall fall brick by brick. Neither of you are strangers to the uncomfortable conversations that come with being in a relationship, but that doesn't make them any easier to have. 

"'Cause," he mumbles. "Wanna give you everything you deserve, doll. What if after all this time I can't live up to your expectations?" Casting his eyes downward you tilt his head back up refusing to let him hide away from you no matter how painful the conversation gets. 

"Oh, Bucky," you say again because there aren’t enough words in any language for you to explain how wrong he is. Kissing his forehead you take your time to gather your thoughts. "Is that what tonight has been about with the," you pause, nodding at his hand and gesturing to your bra, "because you could never disappoint me, James Barnes, okay? We both agreed that waiting was the right choice for us and this idea that after all this time you think I'd have expectations for when we do have sex is ridiculous when you know that's not true, silly boy."

Your words aren't having the effect on him you were hoping for so you kiss his forehead again, the tip of his nose and finally his lips. He doesn't kiss you back. Swallowing your disappointment you try again. “I love you, Bucky and even if our first time together is a disaster like that night in the back of Sam’s car I woul-“

“Jesus, doll,” he groans and you can’t help laughing at the way he’s attempting to frown. “Thought we agreed not to talk about that?”

It’s your turn to shrug your shoulders. For a second you stare down at time caught up in the way your mind is replaying that night. “Anyways,” you carry on as if he hadn’t interrupted, “That night wasn’t our finest, but it didn’t matter in the end and you know why?” 

His fingers glide up your side and you take victory in the fact that slowly he’s coming back to you. The tension in his shoulders is loosening, his metal hand uncurling, hint of a sparkle returning to those eyes you love so much. You’re not naive enough to think that one conversation will fix his insecurities, but he’s opening up, relaxing and that’s more than enough for you. 

“Why?”

“Because I was with you and that’s all that matters.“

“That right?”

“Mhm.” 

“Fuck I don’t deserve you, Y/N.” Wrapping his arm around your waist he buries his head in the crook of your neck. Warm breath and your fingers are carding through his hair. Silence settles in around you, but unlike earlier when it was thick with tension this time it’s thick with love and a new understanding. 

“Did you not listen to anything I said, silly boy?” You tease with a sigh and kiss to the top of his head. 

“Hard to concentrate when you’ve got your shirt off.”

“Perv.”

This time when he laughs his eyes are full of glitter and crinkles, the sound bouncing around your room and you swear you’ve never seen or heard anything more beautiful in your life. 

A glance at the alarm clock he bought for you when you kept oversleeping for important meetings tells you it’s still early for New York. “If we get dressed now we can get ice cream at that place you like so much before they close,” you offer. 

“Can think of something better we could do,” he suggests lowly, fingers stroking higher, brushing over the lace side of your bra.

Your breath hitches and your heart jumps at the prospect of his words. It takes all your self control not to jump at his offer. Watching him through half lidded eyes you tease, “Better than ice cream? You sure about that, Barnes?”

“Positive.” 

And suddenly you’re not talking about ice cream anymore. A subtle shift in the air above you changing from thick with love to thick with need, bone deep and hair raising you wonder when it happened. After your reassurances? After he cracked a joke? After your sarcastic retort? It's hard to know, but it's there, electricity in the air crackling above you and along with it a sense of excitement at this next step in your relationship.

He can feel it too. Oceanic eyes turning darker, pink tongue wetting lips, fingers going higher still, dancing along the top of your bra. Metal hand holding steady to your waist when your hips accidentally shift downwards earning you a low groan from him.

“We don’t have to,” you whisper because even though he was joking only moments before his touches are still featherlight. And even though his eyes are growing darker, his length growing harder beneath the shifting of your hips you know he’s still hesitant about this. You want to tell him there’s no rush, but he’s tilting his head up and capturing your lips in a kiss that’s as sweet as cotton candy and as gentle as the very first time he kissed you.

Pillow soft lips and his metal hand is guiding the slow movement of your hips. There’s no rush right now and you like it best like this, all long, drawn out kisses and slow touches, each one seeming to whisper I love you into your skin.

Parting your lips he expertly slips his tongue in. Licking into your mouth you’re whining, fingers curling around his hair when you press yourself closer to him.

Nearly out of breath you’re reluctant to break the toe curling kiss even for a second, but when you do your lips don’t stray far from his. A kiss to the corner of his mouth, breath coming out in pants and your hips are grinding down against his with more force. 

“What if I want to?” He breaths.

Smiling against his mouth you kiss him again. Reaching behind your back and now you're the one with fumbling hands, but if Bucky notices he doesn't say anything. In a different set of circumstances you can multitask like a champ, but he makes it hard to concentrate when he’s deepening the kiss.

A muffled moan, fingers falling from your back and your senses are consumed with the way he tastes like cinnamon and how he smells like your warm vanilla body wash he says he never uses. A plea balances itself on the tip of your tongue and you want to beg him to let you get your bra off, but he’s kissing his way across your burning cheek and down your neck. The previous task at hand forgotten about until he murmurs a cheeky, "Need some help with that?"

Mind thick with a hazy layer of fog, underwear growing damper, pit of your stomach burning with the need to have more of him you prepare to answer, but he drags his mouth down your neck to that one spot that always leaves you a gasping, needing mess. 

"Well?" He prompts, teeth nipping at your sweaty skin and for a moment you can't remember what he’s asking about. Hand resting on his shoulder, nails digging into his flesh you whine. His metal hand drags along the curve of your back, fingers toying with the clasp of your bra and you're trying to break through your lust addled mind enough to remove the stupid thing. For a second you entertain the thought of his earlier solution to just not wear a bra, it'd make it a lot easier to get undressed in situations like these. 

Dragging his nose along the column of your throat you let out pathetic little mewls and gasps as you swat his hand away. "I've got it," you gasp and you hope that you do because your'e not sure how much longer you can handle his teasing touches and tempting kisses. In a flash the garment is unclasped, straps hanging loose on your shoulders and you swear to god your heart is about to burst out of your chest with the gentle way that he slides the thin straps down your arms before tossing it aside. You flashback to the first time that you found yourselves in this position and you marvel at how far you’ve both come. For a second everything is still. His chest glistening with sweat rises and falls, his lips pink and swollen from the long kisses, his eyes as dark as the night sky shift between your own that you know must be just as dark, down to your own swollen lips, to the bruises that he left down to your chest, nipples already hard and begging to be touched. 

"Y/N," he breaths and you swear that your heart really does burst because he says your name like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen even though he's seen you shirtless more times than you can count. "Fuck, doll." 

You want to tell him, no, beg him to touch you, to please, please touch you, but you can't get a word in when his hands fall to the back of your thighs and in a quick burst of confidence you haven't seen from him since the night began he rolls you onto your back. A surprise gasp at the new position soon turns into a breathless plea for more when the pads of his thumb brush across your nipples. Reaching out for him your hands land on his biceps, nails digging in, head tilting back into your soft pillows, eyes fluttering shut when he leans down to press a kiss to your jaw. "Keep going, Bucky," you urge breathlessly because even with the brief glimpse of your confident Bucky you know in the featherlight way his thumbs are circling over your nipples that he's still nervous about this next step. "Bucky, please."

"Please what?" he murmurs, the words sounding more sinful than sweet when he presses a quick kiss to your collarbone before dragging his mouth down to the tops of your breasts. Squirming beneath him and panting a light sheen of sweat coats the back of your neck and you can't remember ever being so needy or desperate to have him. Your hands fly to his hair when his mouth envelopes your breast, teeth grazing across your nipple and you're hissing at the hint of a sting, but he soothes it with his tongue. Metal hand massaging your other breast and the contrast between cool and smooth and his warm and wet mouth has you arching your back and yanking on his hair. Cradling the back of his head you pathetically lift your hips up in search of some form of friction. A muffled groan from him and a lazy smile is curling up your lips because you know how much he loves when you tug on his hair. 

"God, Bucky," you gasp and you're amazed you're able to get those two words out. "Feels... oh really good." The next set of words are harder to get out, but you swear when the praises tumble out his cheeks are turning pink and he's working even harder to bring you the most pleasure he can with his mouth. And, oh, how he can bring you to the brink with just his mouth. The thought alone has you panting and threading fingers through his hair and when his mouth pulls away from your breast with a quiet pop you think he must be able to hear how loud your heart is beating when he offers you the sweetest smile, eyes locking on yours as he kisses his way down your stomach. 

Unlike earlier when his hands shook trying to take your bra off this time they’re steady against the zipper and button of your jeans. A tug and he's pulling them off, underwear following close behind and you're left to wonder if he's gaining his confidence back or if more likely this is such a familiar position that it’s second nature to him. 

Skimming his fingers along the inside of your thighs your breath catches in your throat. Staring up at him with a hammering heart and half lidded eyes you're torn between letting him take his time and begging him to touch you. Wetness pools between your thighs and the fire in your belly burns hotter the longer his eyes rake over you. 

"Buc-"

"I know, doll," he croons, but his words do little to ease the desire coursing through you. "Just let me look." A murmur, a whisper of a kiss against your lips, fingertips ghosting higher and he's so close, but again, it's not close enough. "You're so beautiful."

Tips of his fingers spread your slickness around and you’re clawing at his biceps while panting in anticipation. Taking his time he kisses you, teeth nipping at your lower lip, middle finger slipping past wet folds and you're moaning in relief as he's groaning into your open mouth. "So wet for me." A rush of warm breath against your already scorched face and you’re tangling a hand in his hair, hips tilting upward in a silent plea for a little more. He gets the hint, second finger sliding in, lingering kiss to your jaw and he's talking again, but it's hard to focus on the low timbre of his voice when all you can focus on is the slow pull and drag of his fingers against the heat of your core. "That feels good, doesn't it?"

You want to answer him, but when you open your mouth to speak all that comes out is a low pitched whine, but it's enough of an answer for him. Grin stretched wide across his face he kisses your shoulder, pad of his thumb rubbing tight circles over your clit and you're melting into your bedsheets and falling under his spell.

"Bet I can make it feel even better." A kiss to your collarbone and you can't be sure, but you think you respond with a please, the sound becomes muffled around his throaty laugh and the rustling of sheets. "That what you want? For me to make it feel better?" 

Again, you can't answer, but he doesn't press you to and you want to tell him how much you love him for that, but the words are lodged in the back of your throat. Settling himself between your thighs like it’s his home he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh and you're tossing your head back when the stubble of his beard rubs over your skin. One hand on the back of his head urging him closer and the other is tangled around sheets that are becoming damp with sweat and arousal. Your hips tilt upwards and this time when you part your lips the words do manage to come. 

"B-Bucky..."

Leaning up on elbows your eyes nearly roll back when you catch sight of him between your thighs. Hair a mess, cheeks flushed your favorite shade of pink, fingers still dragging through your folds as his mouth teases your inner thighs you swear to god you've never seen him look more attractive before. His shoulders are fully relaxed, his attention on you and only you and you take pride in the fact that he's slowly gaining his confidence back after the mishaps of earlier. Your heart is working overtime and you swear if he doesn't stop teasing you're going to combust and it's not an exaggeration. Carding your fingers through his hair you encourage him quietly to keep going, but he needs no encouragement when he replaces his fingers with his tongue without warning. 

"Jesus!" You cry, body falling backwards with a flop. "Oh fuck." A string of obscenities follow soon after and you're not sure what you're blurting, all you know is that it feels good. Really good when his tongue delves between your soaking folds and you never want him to stop. Bucking your hips up you clench your eyes shut as his mouth latches onto your clit. 

Moaning against your core the vibrations send your back arching and there’s nothing sexier than knowing he’s getting pleasure from getting you off. 

Grinding his hips into your bed for relief against his straining erection he curls his hand around your thigh, pulling his mouth back enough to press a teasing kiss to your sensitive bud. The fire in your stomach burns hotter when he draws you closer to his mouth, tongue swirling over your sensitive bud leaving you gasping and crying out, “Don’t stop!”

Two fingers slip in, curling in a come hither motion and he takes your clit back into his mouth sucking harshly. Digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh you roughly shove his face closer to your dripping core as you continue to buck your hips up. 

“Jesus, Buck,” you choke, fisting the bedsheets. Your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger, sliding it in deep and hitting that one spot that has you seeing stars behind your eyes. “Shit, yes, right there, god Bucky, right there!” Gasping for breath and with tears threatening to spill at the overwhelming pleasure you know you’re not going to last much longer. 

“I know you’re close, doll,” he rasps and you swear the tone, so reminiscent of his throaty morning voice that you love hearing is enough to push you over. “Let go for me. Show me how good I’m making you feel.”

A warning on the tip of your tongue, but it’s lost to the chants of his name and the endless stream of oh god, Bucky’s. An arch of your back, sweat dripping down your neck, fingers clutching to his hair, hips bucking upwards and the fire in your stomach is a full blown inferno when your release hits you full force. It’s intense and you’re not sure if it’s because of his talented mouth or the earlier conversation that drew you closer to one another. Either way you’re left panting and shoving his head and fingers away when the sensitivity becomes too much and he doesn’t know when to stop.

Moaning he swipes his tongue through your folds one last time, lapping at your release before sitting back on his knees to watch you come down from your high. Release coating his beard and chin, hair sticking up haphazardly, erection straining against his jeans he crawls his way up your body littering your sweaty skin with gentle kisses and nips as he goes.

“That good, huh, sweetheart?” He teases at your blissed out state. A lazy and satisfying smile curves your lips up. Tilting your head you kiss him softly. The taste of you lingers on his plump lips and warm tongue. 

Taking a moment to bask in the afterglow your body thrums with excitement the closer you each get to finally being together. “It’s always good with you,” you whisper in between kisses, adding, "This is going to be good too." Because you can see the tension finding its way back into his shoulders. It’s the last thing you want after what just took place and the confidence he had shown. 

Resting your fingers on the top of his jeans you pause only for a second when you hear his breath hitch. A nod from him and you’re undoing his button, tugging the zipper down and slipping your hand beneath the waistband of his boxers. Hot, thick and throbbing you both moan when your hand wraps around him.

A gentle stroke, a choked moan from him and he's yanking his pants down so quickly you want to tease him about being eager, but he's moaning again, eyes fluttering shut and you're too distracted with seeing him get lost in the pleasure to do much more than pull his boxers down to join his pants around his knees.

"How's that?" You ask, punctuating your words with a gentle squeeze.

Head dropping into the crook of your neck, hot breath panting, hips thrusting into your hand as his metal hand finds purchase amongst your pillows. "Fuck," he grunts, struggling to get the one word out. "Doll... you gotta... fuck, Y/N, you gotta slow down or this is gonna be over soon."

Biting your lip and nodding your head you slow your pace, but keep your hand wrapped around his length as your thumb brushes across his tip.

"Yeah, better," he chokes out. Sucking in a breath he pulls his head away from your neck. "Gotta... hold on." And it's such a contrast from moments ago, gone is your confident Bucky who touched you like a man who knew exactly where to touch you to make you see stars, who knew exactly how to kiss you until you were breathless and dizzy. In his place is the Bucky of earlier, all fumbling hands as he tugs his jeans and boxers from his thighs, kicking them off the bed. He offers you a shy smile, cheeks bursting with pink and you can't help thinking of how the theme of the night has been two steps forward and one step back. 

You'd do anything to help ease his nerves and show him how his darkest thoughts and fears of not being good enough for you are bullshit. Removing your hand from his length you sit up, cringing as you shift over the dampness of your sheets. Keeping your voice quiet you ask, "Do you want me to be on top?" The relief that floods his face before he tries to cover it up has a crack forming in your heart, but your core clenches when he nods his head and you again find yourself in a battle of wills between knowing that you should talk about this and giving into the pleasure that's only moments away.

Limbs tangle together and get caught up in twisted and balled sheets, you bite back a giggle when his toe catches the corner of your sheet and he’s sprawling on his back. It’s easy to forget that he’s a trained assassin when he looks so helpless trying to lay down. Readjusting so his head is propped up against your pillows and his thighs are spread you swallow down the mixture of nerves and excitement pooling in the pit of your stomach. 

Cupping his cheek you kiss him softly, thumb brushing across his jaw you will him to relax as you deepen the kiss. “Ready?”

“For you to do all the work? Yeah.” Cheeky smile and you’re laughing against his mouth and kissing him once more. 

Memories of kneeing him in the ribs are only too fresh in your mind and after coming so far tonight you’re extra careful when you straddle his waist. Wrapping your hand around the base of him you glide his tip through your wet folds. The groans he’s letting out at the barest hint of contact between your bodies has your walls clenching and your mouth watering. His fists clench by his side and his eyes are slamming shut as you slowly lower yourself down taking him inch by inch.

No stranger to the girth or length of him from the countless times you've had him in your hand and mouth it still doesn't prepare you for the near unbearable sting as he stretches you. Hands fly to his chest, nails digging crescent shapes into his skin and you've only sunk halfway down.

"Fuck," he moans, dragging the syllables out. Flesh hand hesitantly moving to your hip, fingers stroking your skin and you can tell it's taking all his self control not to slam his hips upwards. 

Sinking down another couple of inches and you're reminding yourself to breathe and relax, but it's easier said than done. Tearing your eyes away from his you glance down to his chest, red from your nails clawing at him down to where your bodies are connected and he’s disappearing into you. A strangled moan leaves your mouth and you swear you're going to leave his chest torn open and bleeding by the time you finally take all of him. 

Forceful grip on your hip and he’s letting out low grunts that you swear are going to be the death of you. “Y/N,” he chokes out, head slamming back against your pillow. “Sweetheart, fuck you’re tight.”

Breathing heavily you take a second to admire him. The flushed and sweaty cheeks, his parted lips, the half lidded eyes, the whir of his metal hand still clenching and unclenching by his side. The filth that’s spewing from his mouth and the sinful noises he’s making spur you on, lowering yourself down until he‘s fully sheathed inside you. He stretches you in a way no man has before, filling you to the brim and it’s delicious.

“Buck,” you gasp, taking a beat to get used to the fullness.

The pain still lingers when you slowly lift your hips up and lower yourself back down, but the way he moans makes it worth it. "How's that?" You ask again, setting a slow pace as you splay your hands across his broad and sweaty chest.

Skimming his hand along the curve of your hip he grunts. Hesitantly, he thrusts his hips up and the pleasure that shoots through you has you chanting a string of broken yes. 

“You like that?” 

Unable to answer you nod your head frantically and he does it again, the second time feeling even better. “Feels so good, you feel so good. Keep going, god keep going, Buck.” Babbling nonsensical words and tossing your head back you roll your hips against his, nails sinking back into his chest as the pleasure begins to overwhelm you.

Grunting, his metal hand crawls up up your stomach, thumb brushing across nipples. “Y/N,” he moans, eyes slamming shut, “Come on, need you to move those hips a little faster for me, sweetheart.”

His words have your walls fluttering and you pick up the pace with his help. Arching your back you can't believe how good it feels to have him inside of you. Thick and pulsing you feel every vein and ridge bumping against your walls, spurring you on, but even though it feels good you need just a little more. 

“Touch me,” you plead, words drifting out amid the rhythmic creaking bed and  headboard bumping against the wall no doubt annoying your neighbors.

He doesn’t need to be told twice and though his hand doesn’t shake his touch is still featherlight when he slips a hand between your sweating bodies to stroke your clit.

Your thighs begin to burn from the exertion and punishing pace you’ve set, but you push the thought to the back of your mind when Bucky’s thumb circles your clit with more pressure and the fire in your belly stirs hotter. 

“Just like that, Bucky,” you praise, breasts bouncing as you rock your hips faster against his. “I’m so close. Just a little more.”

“Gonna spend the rest of the night buried in you.” Sitting up and wrapping his arm around your waist the quick movement and new position has you crying out. “Fuck we got a lotta missed time to make up for.” 

Bodies slick with sweat and neither of you can keep your hands or mouths off one another. Sloppy kisses and even sloppier thrusts as you each near the end. 

“B-Buck!” you cry out, hands clawing at his shoulders and clutching to his short hair in a desperate bid to hold on to something, to anything.

The fire burns into an inferno and with a strangled cry you’re struggling to keep up the pace enough for him to reach his own release. A flash of white bursts behind your eyes and you’re reduced to nothing more than loose limbs and gasps of his name as you coax him to let go.

“Y/N,” he growls, hips faltering, body growing tense and he’s letting go, teeth sinking into your shoulder he struggles to contain the moans and grunts he’s letting loose.

Without the sounds of your moans and his filthy words, the headboard bumping against the wall and the bed creaking your room is eerily silent save for your ragged breaths. 

Slumping against his chest he’s the first to break through the silence when he lets out a breathless love you, following it up with a kiss to your shoulder where his teeth had been only moments before. Dragging his nose across your collarbone and up your throat you hum at the gentleness that accompanies his movements. 

"I love you too." Whispered words that are second nature spill from your mouth. Another hum, body shifting over his in an attempt to get off, but he's pulling you impossibly closer, muffled whine escaping his lips. Thighs burning, body sticky with sweat and your releases, you know that you need to go to the bathroom, get cleaned up, but when his mouth searches yours out in a drawn out kiss you forget about all of that as he pulls you back under. 

"It was okay?" He breaths, fingertips stroking across your lower back, painting your sweaty skin with words of love and you find it endearing how after everything that's happened he's still uncertain. 

"It was perfect, Buck, you were perfect." Pushing a sweaty lock of hair away from his eyes your lips land on his forehead and you take an extra moment to bask in the way that it feels to be wrapped up in his arms after your first time together. The stress and anxiety that led up to his moment are gone and in their place is a sense of calm and love. "But I really need you to let me go because I have to go to the bathroom," you whine, hips shifting over his as your hands loosen their hold from around his shoulders. The peaceful afterglow is shattered with your laugh and his groan, but you like it best like this, when his guard is down and he's relaxed. 

"Go," he murmurs, stealing another kiss that for a second makes you think about staying like this for another few minutes, but he's loosening his hold, yawn escaping from him and you know if you don't leave now your resolve will crumble and you will spend the rest of the night like this. 

Climbing off his lap you pick up a pile of clothes not caring or knowing who they truly belong to as you head to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Exhaustion nips at your limbs, the emotional turmoil of the night taking its toll on you and by the time you finish cleaning up and head back to your room you're met with the sight of Bucky on his back, sheets pulled to his waist, snoring quietly. You watch him for a minute, the way sleep has come easy to him tonight and you make a mental note to continue the conversation in the morning. Climbing into bed next to him you kiss his cheek, smiling when he doesn't so much as stir before curling into his side and letting sleep overtake you as well.

Tags;

@breakfast-at-kelseys​

[lavendersuh]

soft smiles

lucas x reader | college au, fake dating | fluff | 2.3k words

Seeing as you are a sophomore in college, you probably should’ve gone to at least a few parties in the past year. You typically found yourself at the local bars with your friends. Your roommate, Yeri, was interested in one of the NCT frat boys, though, which is how you ended up here.

You didn’t really know what to expect from frat parties, but you knew NCT had a better reputation than most of the other fraternities around campus. That fact alone let you relax a bit. Typically your group of friends stuck together while at bars, but the girls were quick to find their own area in the house once you were through the door. The entire house was alive with music and people.

You stuck with Yeri and Wendy, opening a seltzer. Yeri is cozying up to one of the boys— you assumed this was the Doyoung boy she had gushed about— while Wendy is talking to his friends. You listen to the conversation while adding a bit of input, but mostly you observe the party happening around you, enjoying the atmosphere. 

Suddenly, there’s a weight across your shoulders, and you look to your left to find a tall boy standing next to you casually. You know your eyes must be very wide, confused as he stares down at you with a goofy grin. 

He remains with an aloof, happy smile on his face as he leans down to talk to you.

“Hey, don’t panic, okay? Just pretend I’m your boyfriend, some creep was staring at you.” he says, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 

You nod, leaning into him a bit, feeling his warm chest against your side. His touch sends tingles along your spine. You can’t recall a time you were ever this close to a stranger. You look around and can’t seem to find anyone looking directly at you, but there are too many people in the crowd to be sure. 

You look back up to him as he takes a few gulps from his drink, joining in the conversation that Doyoung and Xiaojun are having. 

“How do I know you’re not the creep?” you question him. 

He squeezes your arm, “I’m in this frat,” he says, continuing, “That guy got kicked out of here last semester for messing with some girls’ drinks. Just stay cool, I’ve got it covered.”

He makes a motion with his hand, and you see two guys go up to another in the crowd. After a mild argument, they walk the guy out, nodding at him once they come back in. They stroll over to your group after grabbing a drink.

The party goes on around you, only a few people slightly disturbed by the encounter. The boys continue joking around and talking, and you catch Wendy slyly smiling at you, making you realize the situation you’re still in. 

As you try to slip away from the unknown boy, he links his hand in yours softly, before walking you a bit farther into the back of the house. The dim lights of the kitchen greet you with less of a crowd.

The boy turns around once he’s leaning against the counter, staring down at you, with that silly smile still across his face. His shoulders are broad, you notice, and he’s tall. Very tall. You glance down out of bashfulness, realizing your hand is still engulfed by his.

“I’m Yukhei, by the way, I’m a part of the frat.” he says, “Have you been here before? I feel like I would remember a pretty face like yours.”

You shake your head, your stomach alight with butterflies at his blatant flirting, “I usually go to bars more, but Yeri is into a guy here so…” 

He laughs at that, “Well this is the best place to be, in terms of frats, so your friend is very wise. The guys aren’t too bad either.” 

He attempts to give you a smouldering look, which makes you giggle a little too much. You pretend it’s because of the alcohol that’s started to enter your system instead of how attractive you find this boy standing in front of you.

He asks you a few more questions about your day, what you’re drinking tonight and more, all while adding little jokes and flirty pieces into the conversation. It’s been awhile since anyone has been interested in you, so you can’t help but smile at his comments.

Yukhei is just as enamored with you as you are with him, and you don’t realize how much time has passed until Wendy comes up to you asking if you could walk back to the dorms with her. Yeri was staying the night (which seemed like a good sign for her), and it was starting to get late. 

Wendy was giving you a knowing side eye as Yukhei bid you goodbye, offering a “Goodnight, darling,” with a bold kiss to your forehead. 

You have a soft smile the whole way home, as Wendy prods you for information on the boy you spent the evening talking to.

“He seems nice,” Wendy comments, “I don’t know a lot about him, but that’s better than knowing him as a playboy for something!” 

She seems more excited that you are, but she also clearly had quite a few more drinks. You make sure she’s situated in her room before leaving her. Walking back to your empty room, you fall asleep to the thought of deep brown eyes and a smile that’s stuck in your brain.

~~~

The next day, you’re woken up by Yeri coming back to your room. Soft light comes through your window, highlighting your roommate in last night’s clothes with a jacket over her shoulders.

“Good morning,” you mumble, stretching out from your warm blankets.

“Oh good you’re up!” she says, “Did you meet a guy last night?” 

The immediate question wakes you up more fully, knowing your roommate is about to interrogate you. She sits down excitedly on your bed, looking as you nod, “Yeah, kind of, how did you know?”

“I was eating some breakfast in the kitchen with Doyoung— who is amazing by the way— and a boy came in asking if I was friends with you!” 

“Yukhei?”

“Yes! Oh my god, you did meet a boy last night! Did you get his number? Are you going out? This is so exciting!” she squeals.

You grab a hold of her arms, in an attempt to calm down her crazy early morning energy. The girl was always more awake in the mornings than you; you don’t know how she did it.

You explain how you met Yukhei, with the weird guy and the long conversation afterwards. 

“That’s so sweet of him! And he seems like he might be interested,” Yeri wiggles her eyebrows.

You roll your eyes at her, “I doubt I will even see him that much, if ever. I’m sure he talks to a lot of girls.”

Yeri scolds you for brushing off the situation so easily, and then proceeds to excitedly tell you about her night. It looks like she finally has a boyfriend by the way things are going. With too much hope in your heart, you wonder what the future might hold for you, too.

~~~

Around a week later, you are getting a coffee at a cafe when you see your sort-of ex walk in. You don’t normally come to this cafe, so you were already a bit antsy with nerves, but now you are completely on edge as you wait for your order to be ready. 

You hadn’t really dated anyone yet, but you had talked to a few people since coming to university. The boy that had just walked in was the one you really thought would go somewhere. There were no hard feelings, but he eventually stopped talking to you after he mentioned he wasn’t looking for anything serious.

You really did not feel like making small talk with him. You look around frantically at the busy cafe, heading for the back, hoping there is a second exit. Unfortunately there isn’t, but before you turn around, you suddenly see a familiar face. 

You rush over to Yukhei’s table where he sits alone, sliding into the seat across from him.

“Um, hi, can I sit here? My sorta ex walked in and I don’t want to face him alone.” you say, looking at him with pleading eyes.

Yukhei has a wide eyed look on his face, but he softly smiles as he realizes who’s standing in front of him, and what you’re asking.

“Sure,” he says, “It’s no problem.”

You set your bag down next to you, noticing Yukhei’s abandoned airpods that sit next to his open laptop. He was definitely in an intense study mode, so you grab your own laptop to work on a few things, too. 

You sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, enjoying each others’ company while you work on homework. It’s hard to pay attention to your screen when you know your ex could be around. It’s even harder to pay attention knowing Yukhei is so near. Despite the way every fiber of your being knows that Yukhei is so close, you can feel your nerves start to calm down knowing that he is near. Every so often you glance up at Yukhei, just to see his eyes look away as if he was glancing at you too. 

“Y/N?” you hear behind you, and suddenly, Yukhei grabs your hand in his, stroking his thumb over your knuckles softly. 

You go to look behind you, but Yukhei squeezes your hand, reaching over to move a stray strand of hair into a different place. As he leans in slightly, he whispers, “Be cool, he’s coming over here.”

Your heartbeat was already doing overtime but his words made your emotions spiral even more. Oh God. 

You feel a looming presence over your shoulder, and you look up to see your sort-of ex standing over you, with a puzzled expression on his face. 

“How are you doing, Y/N? I haven’t seen you in forever.” he asks, striking up mild conversation like he didn’t ghost you five months ago.

You clear your throat before responding, “I’m doing good, how are you?” 

The conversation is as bland as a piece of bread, and you can barely keep your focus as Yukhei’s hand holds yours. His palms are warm and his thumb continues to stroke across the back of your hand. Finally your ex looks over at him, and how your hands are embraced.

“And who’s this?” he asks, attempting to come across nonchalantly, but failing to do so. 

You panic for a moment, unsure of what to say. You are never able to lie well, but you can’t help but wish you could say something that will make him jealous. No, not jealous, but maybe sad about what he had lost. You wanted to show him that you were doing good without him, as stupid as it sounded. But lying was not your forte, so you open your mouth to explain that Yukhei is just a friend, when you feel a squeeze in your hand.

“I’m her boyfriend.” 

You whip your head around to look at Yukhei with wide eyes, just as the boy next to you does the same. Yukhei just grins at you both with that cheeky grin that makes you smile a little bit too.

“I’m Yukhei,” he extends the hand that isn’t holding yours.

Your ex shakes his outstretched hand with a bit of a reluctant look. The conversation takes a bit of an awkward turn, given the entire situation. He leaves quickly after that.

As soon as you hear the bell on the cafe door chime with his departure, you remove your hand from Yukhei’s, while he smiles contentedly at you.

“Why did you do that?!” you exclaim. “I was going to tell him you were my friend…. It would’ve been fine!”

Yukhei looks at you like he’s got everything figured out, “I kinda wanted to make him jealous, that was alright, no?” he explains, “And now you have an excuse next time you see him!”

“What about when he sees you around with campus with some girl that’s not me?” you ask, as your mind goes through different scenarios, “I don’t expect you to halt your life to help me. And I’m not good with confrontation, Yukhei, I can’t lie very well.”

“If he sees me with some other girl or something, you can just say we stopped seeing each other. It should be fine though, I’m not dating anyone right now, it’s all good.”

You’re quiet for a moment, taken aback by Yukhei’s easy nature of thinking, as well as his generosity. You’ve barely had more than a few conversations with this guy, and he’s been more attentive than the last two guys that have shown interest in you.

You look up to see he’s already looking at you with a soft gleam in his eyes. Quietly, you ask, “Why are you being so nice to me?” 

Yukhei’s eyes look away from yours, the tips of his ears turning red under the waviness of his hair. He casts a glance out through the window at the street. Eventually, he shakes his head, before turning back to you.

“You’re kinda cute, you know?” he says, trying to keep his voice casual, but his words only make you more flustered. “And like I said, I’m not dating anyone so....”

“So….?”

He sends you that smile that has your insides melting, “So maybe we could get dinner, see a movie…. Go on a date, sometime?” 

You smile at the idea, gathering the courage to ask for his number. You both agree to make some plans for the following week, through shy smiles and a warm, fuzzy feeling in your chest.

“And who knows,” he says, with a sly smile, “Maybe I could be your real boyfriend instead of your fake one.” 

[mendesbadrepuation]

Save Her // Peter Parker🕷

*This is based off a Tiktok I saw a long time ago and wrote a little something for it. I was scrolling through Tom Holland’s tag and saw that @lightholland​ was looking for someone to make it or have it. It was just sitting in my drafts collecting dust. So without further a do : )

I will add the link to the Tiktok...

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

“What do you mean she’s been kidnapped?!” Cap says in the small conference room to Tony. 

“Shh!” Tony puts his finger in front of his lips to silence Cap. “The kid doesn’t know yet. If he finds out I’m afraid he’ll put himself in danger before we can get a proper plan.” Tony explains more. His words get quieter as more people pile into the room. Tony felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. His eyes were bloodshot from not getting any sleep the entire night. It was suppose to be a simple mission. She’s done it time and time before. HYDRA found an opportunity to trick everyone. All of them have been through protocol in the case that something like this does happen. He just felt ill not knowing what they could possibly be trying to get out of her. 

The room was quiet as everyone was confused  as to why they were being brought in so early in the morning. Peter was swaying side to side in his chair with his eyes glued to his phone. He was texting her repeatedly wondering where she was. He hasn’t spoke to her since the night before. He had an important Chemistry assignment to complete that occupied him for hours. The last text he had from her was a simple “I love you spider bug” That was one of her many nicknames she had for him. 

“Okay so-“ Tony begins to speak to the group and everyone turns their heads away from the distractions. Peter cuts him off. “Wait Y/n isn’t here yet.” Peter says softly as he looks at Tony. It was easy to see how Tony was fighting his thoughts on how to break the news. He sighs as his shoulders drop. Cap looks at Peter then back at Tony. Peter had been sensing something all day but he wasn’t sure what it was. He knew he felt off. “What? Is someone not telling me something?” Peter tries to keep his cool from all the silence. The group looks around in confusion. 

“Mr. Stark.” Friday comes in through the A.I. system. Her voice sounded a little concerned. “I think you will want to see this.” Tony had a feeling he knew it was about her. He was expecting some kind of news soon and much rather than later. “Pull it up.” He disregards Peter’s questions and turns his attention to the glass screen. The room goes deadly silent as a image of Y/n pops up. Peter stands straight up out of his chair as his heart jumps into his throat. The video begins to play and she was crying in pain. The right side of her face had taken some serious impact. A serious busted lip was causing blood to ooze down her chin and her tears were mixing in with the dirty blood. A scene that none of the avengers wanted to see on their teammate. Especially their sweetheart. 

A blood curling scream pierced through everyone’s ears from her torture. There was no face to the voice but it was easy to tell it was a man that was speaking. “Where is the stone?” His voice was dark, brisk, and cold like a windy winter night. It cut through Peter as if he was made of paper. 

“I don’t have it.” She says breathlessly. “Please I didn’t take anything!” The camera zooms out and there was a knife sinking deep into her flesh. He twists it ever so slightly making her scream out in horrific pain. “PETER!” She cries out for her boyfriend. The only thing that was keeping her from crossing over to a dark place. 

Peter turns his body and Cap knew what he was about to do. Cap leaps after him holding him in his arms before he makes a B-line out the door. “Let me go!” Peter struggles around trying to fight his way out of his masculine grip. The video continues in the background as they offer up a deal to get her back. “I have to get to her. I have to find her!” His legs kick around as a way to create space between the two. The team all rise from their chairs to keep him cornered in. 

“Calm down! Listen Parker!” Cap tries to stop the squirming so that Tony could propose his plan. “You can’t do this alone!” 

“No! She needs me!” A soft whimper pulls from his mouth as he slowly stops his fighting. Cap knew that Parker and him could be an even fight if he wanted. He also knew that Peter was in no state of mind to fight him off like that. He knew deep down that he couldn’t get her back alone. 

“We’re going to get her back kid. But I need you to calm down. We have to be smart about this. We can’t lose you in the process. You have to stay focused with us. You know everyone in this room is hurting. We have to do this strategically. It has to be done together..” Tony says. Peter’s eyes were watering at this point. The frustration and pain he felt seeing his girl like that took a toll on him. Peter swore to himself he’d never let anything happen to you. Not like this. His heart was shattered and his gut was empty. All he can hear is his name being called from your horrific state. He couldn’t get to you and help you. It was his own torture that surely would leave scars for him. 

“Please. We have to get her back.” Peter fumbles to his knees and Cap does his best to cushion his fall but it was no use. The video goes on a little longer. A few more screams are heard and it shuts off. 

“I was able to trace the video back sir. It looks like it was sent from a server in a remote location in Canada.” Friday speaks. 

“Everyone get suited up. We will debrief on the air carrier.” Cap says and everyone quickly goes to their stations to get suited up. It was an intense feeling in the air. Everyone of them had a one track mind. That was to rescue their teammate. No matter the risk they were getting her back alive. Peter couldn’t bare another second of this. He had his suit on in a matter of seconds and was pacing in the air carrier first. 

Once they were all inside they viewed each layout of the blueprints Friday sent them for the set location. They managed to track her phone in a closed off portion of the abandoned building. All of their thoughts were said to find the best way to get her out swiftly and safely. Each plan was ran over a couple of times to outsmart Hydra and their evil intentions. 

“Peter it’s your job to get in that bunker and get her out. You need to understand that she’s going to be really out of it and the scene could stun you. You can’t hesitate. Get her out of there.” Tony says sternly to him. There was no else best fit to get her out. Everyone knew that. Peter just had to realize that any hesitation or delays can cause the plan to backfire tremendously. 

“I will.” Peter says. He would walk through fire at this point just to save you and hold you in his arms again. 

The air carrier lands a little ways away from the secluded location. They were all careful to keep things in stealth mode so none of the sensors would be detected. The plan is set in motion and one by one each member is deployed. Each of them tackle the obstacles set in the way. They wanted it to be in and out so no extreme force would have to happen. Tranquilizers were used to put Hydra agents to rest out of harms way. We’re they mad about the kidnapping? They were beyond furious. It didn’t matter. Once they had her safe then it was time to discuss wars. 

Peter sweeps his way through the rusty old building. He blends in with each surrounding and is careful not to tip his whereabouts. Once he finds the bunker door he uses his A.I. system Karen to break in. The door opens with an unusually loud creek. He swiftly creeps inside checking for other agents. There he sees her passed out laying on the floor almost lifeless. Holding her arms and legs together is some raged black rope that left her horrible laceration burns from her fighting it. She’s only been held captive for 12 hours and they managed to hurt her this terribly? Peter felt the anger boil up inside of him. 

“Y/n!” Peter whispers to see if she would respond. She doesn’t move and his heart drops. There was blood all around her. Her suit was ripped in places where the knife had been. Peter picks her up slowly and that’s when she stirs. Immediately she tries to fight her way out considering she had no idea who it was. 

“Let me go! Please.” She whines. Her voice was so hoarse. 

“Shh. Y/n it’s me. It’s Peter. I’m here baby.” He moves some of her hair out of her face to get her to look at him. The head of his suit comes down so she could actually see it was who he said it was. He uses his tech to cut the rope around her arms and legs, freeing her instantly. 

“Peter.” She cries in relief and clings to him tightly. He takes her body and places her legs around his waist. His arms tightly wrap around so she’s hugging him. He was not about to let her out of his grip. Not until they were out of harms way. Even then he may never. Her head nuzzles into his neck and he wanted to sigh in relief from the feeling. When she was being clingy that was her thing to do. “You smell good.” She weakly whispers. It was so innocent that it made Peter’s stomach release butterflies. He knew how strong she really was and that she’d have this shaken off in no time. He still was not letting her out of his sights for awhile. Peter gently placed his chin on her head to cling to her more. He easily moves his way through the abandoned building without being spotted. Once he reaches the air carrier everyone else was starting to regroup. 

“We got her. Is everyone counted for?” Cap says as he looks around. A small count of people was taken and the doors to the carrier are sealed shut. Peter just falls to the floor with her in his arms. 

“We’re going to get you some help here soon baby.” He starts to rub her back. She remained in the same position but never lost her grip around his neck. 

“Has she said anything?” Tony asks as he bends down to rub her head softly. 

“She didn’t know it was me at first. I say she has a concussion. She’s a little out of it. She said I smell good.” Peter lightly smiles and so does everyone around. It was their y/n being herself even in the state she’s in. 

“You really do. Did your side chick buy you some new cologne?” She jokes and the mood in the carrier lightens tremendously. Everyone laughs including Peter. Y/n kept her eyes shut and her head rested in between Peter’s neck and shoulder. A smile still formed on her face from her comment. 

“You did goofy.” Peter replies and places a sweet kiss on the top of her head. 

“Just making sure it’s really you.” The tip of her nose brushes up against his neck giving him goosebumps. “Sorry I got a little blood on your suit.” She adds. 

“I think it will be okay. As soon as we get to the compound we’ll get you stitched up. I promise. Just keep talking to me. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Peter’s chest vibrates to each word he says. It was hard for her to keep her eyes open with being in the arms of her saving grace. She knew she was safe now. 

“I could go for a nice shower. I’m sure I don’t smell as nice as you do.” Her words were turning into low mumbles now. “I’m really tired Pete.” She takes in a deep breath to try and relax the searing pain that was pulsing in her arm and leg. 

“I know. Just stay with me a little longer.” He scoots over to a wall so he could lean his back against it and stretch his legs out. He resumes rubbing her back once he gets situated. “Where is our next date going to be?” Peter asks to keep her awake. 

It was silent for a good minute. “The beach.” She replies. 

“Why the beach? You hate sand.” Peter states. 

���The sound of the waves, plus the view. It would be so romantic. And I wanna surf.” Her words were a little dragged out. 

“We should make it a team vacation.” Tony adds to the conversation. 

“None of you all better wear a Speedo.” She hesitates and then whispers to Peter. “Except maybe you can Pete.” The group laughs again. Big smiles on their faces knowing they had this sweetheart back. 

Her head slowly raises up this time to look at Peter once more. Her weak arm manages to go up and she placed the palm of her hand against his cheek. His eyes softly look into her and he tilts his face into her palm. 

“Thank you for saving me.” She whispers and leans her forehead against his. 

“I will always save you.” He replies just as soft as her whisper. 

They lean into each other and like magnets their lips connect ever so softly. Y/n felt the warmth she had lost from all the torture she endeavored. Peter could finally breathe a little better knowing she was in his arms. This kiss allowed him to be grounded from all the fear he had trapped in his mind. 

“Get a room!” Tony says in disgust. The two teenagers just smile into the kiss. 

Y/n was eventually back the Avengers compound safe. There she was taken care of from all the wounds she had. And just like everyone assumed Peter didn’t leave her side the entire time. 

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Tagged accounts:

@im-not-here-dont-leave-a-message​ @nerdy-collector-festival​

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 4: Stars

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

Is this progress? You two talk and you don't want to murder each other. Probably progress. Probably. Something fishy is definitely going on.

A/N: Hope you are all doing well! This is more fluffy angst than it is angry angst. But I mean, just wait until the next chapter. I'll make up for it! Hahaha.

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

“You forgot your tea.” The woman called to you, and you turned and offered a forced smile that fell quickly. You were handed your teacup and turned to look through the trees. Liu Kang had disappeared within them.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know, dear.” The woman sipped her tea next to you. You had to get to work but your heart was heavy. “Trouble in paradise?”

You choked on your tea.

“Oh?” You cleared your throat and tilted your head inquisitively. The woman gestured to where Liu Kang had disappeared but had a knowing smile on her face. “Oh, no. No, no, no we aren’t… I… just no. He’s having a hard day is all. A hard week.” The woman seemed genuinely surprised.

“I’m sorry for assuming but I sensed that your spirits were intertwined. It was a natural assumption to guess that the two of you were together.”

Oh, good.

“We used to be close.” You felt suddenly exhausted and as if you could cry. The bag on your back was heavy with the weight of Kung Lao and your heart was heavy with the pain of Liu Kang. “I’m sorry for this. He just lost his brother and it’s been difficult. He’s not usually like this. I promise. He’s a good man.”

“Grief is one of the most difficult hardships we deal with. I understand. And I sense that the journey ahead of him will not be an easy one.”

“Yeah. He’s not alone though. I’ll make sure he’s okay.” You would. Even if he did nothing but yell and push, you would at least make sure he was okay. Attraction or not, it was the least you could do. Kung Lao would have wanted you to.

“You must be careful too. I sense great loss around you and great conflict ahead of you.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised.”

“Oh?”

“I was dating his brother.”

“Ah, that explains at least part of it.” The woman placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. You stood there for a time. You blinked back tears and hoped they went unnoticed but this woman seemed wise and observant. She reminded you of a nicer and less godly Raiden. “It’s a difficult three-day hike through the mountains to reach Nightwolf.” The woman walked before you and offered you a folded-up map and a small coin-sized wolf charm. She cupped her hands around yours. “You will need this to prove that you are worthy to see him.”

“Are you sure? I… I’m happy to explain to you what we’re doing here.” You were surprised. You didn’t know what unspoken trial you’d passed but you were grateful to have passed it. At least one thing was going right.

“No need. I can sense a great many things, dear, and you, without question, are worthy to seek out Nightwolf. Your soul burns radiantly despite the shadow hanging over it.”

You stuttered because you didn’t know what that meant. “Thank you. I’m… we’re grateful.”

“We will provide you both with anything you might need for your trip. When you find Nightwolf then show him this charm. He will know that you are worthy of being seen. I hope that whatever it is you are seeking from him he can provide.”

“Thank you. I really can’t express how grateful I am.”

“You don’t have to, dear. I can tell.” The woman’s voice was soft. “Follow me.” You did as you were asked and followed the woman through the village. A small cabin had been setup for you and Liu. It was quaint but there were two beds and enough space for you to rest for the night out of the elements. That was all you needed and more than you deserved, you thought. You stayed in the cabin after the woman bid you farewell and good luck. You hadn’t even introduced yourselves but your meeting had still been profound.

For some time after, you sat on the bed and held your bag, wondering what to do. Your heart was heavy and so you meditated and prayed for Liu Kang to find peace and for Kung Lao to forgive you. The last one was selfish, but you felt incredibly guilty and there was no easing it. He would have eased your guilt.

Sleep wasn’t coming. You were too worried about Liu getting himself lost in the woods in his anger.

You had no right to worry about him. He’d gotten by plenty fine without you his whole life. You shouldn’t have worried so much but you couldn’t help it. It was natural to fixate on the few things you had control of when the rest of it was so wildly out of your hands.

You left the cabin. Night had fallen and there were only a handful of other people outside. You wrapped the blanket you’d bought around your shoulders and walked around the village until you found a clearing in the trees where you could sit and watch the stars. The sky was beautiful. So many of the lights in the sky reminded you of home but they were also so different. It took you awhile to find your favorite constellations which distracted you for a time.

You felt him before you heard him. The fiery spirit of Liu Kang. He sat next to you. You’d always been able to sense him. Earlier, he’d been bright with rage and now he was a dull roar but by no means at peace. He said nothing but sat watching the stars next to you. You’d done this before years in the past. Sat on dangerous ledges and watched the sky in silence.

It had been comforting then. It was less so now. He put you on edge. Between nerves and attraction, your brain had no idea how to process him anymore.

“I’m sorry.” He broke the silence, and you turned your eyes away from the stars but not toward him. “I apologized to everyone I was rude to, but I figured that I would save the most important apology I had to make for last.” You could hear a smile on his face but also felt how weary he was. Carrying that kind of anger and guilt took a toll. You would know.

“It’s okay.” You had forgiven him hours ago. Honestly, you’d mostly been worried for him. “Believe it or not, I get it.”

“Do you?”

You locked eyes with him and then turned away as you felt the nerves rise in your throat again. He hadn’t made you this nervous in years and there were a thousand reasons why. “Yeah. I go through moments where the world is too much noise and things seem impossibly frustrating. Moments where I can’t avoid being angry no matter how much I don’t want to be.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You turned your eyes back to the stars, but it was hard to think about him losing control like that. It hurt to think about yourself like that too. He scooted a little closer to you and his knee touched just against yours. There had been nights where you’d sat with him after fighting with Kung Lao and he’d held your hand. And briefly, you felt that comfort and that spark that he always ignited, but you stomped it out quickly.

“I miss my brother. And I miss you.” He sighed as if it annoyed him to say. “But being around you makes it more real.” You had a feeling. He had the same effect on you.

“I’m sorry.” You managed to whisper but you thought your voice sounded rather pathetic, broken and as though you were desperate to get the words out without tears.

“It’s not your fault. I need to stop acting like it is. You don’t seem to blame me.”

“I miss him too. And I miss you. I miss a lot of things.” You sniffled away the upset that had come with realizing just how much harder you made it on Liu Kang. Sleeping with him had certainly not helped either. Maybe it had provided temporary relief, but it had definitely worked a lot of old hurt feelings into the mix that you hadn’t needed. “It doesn’t feel real sometimes. I brought his little jade thing with me as a reminder. So I won’t keep expecting to find him waiting for me when we get back.”

“Y/N?” Liu turned to face you. “If he were alive then it wouldn’t be me on this journey with you. It would be him.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” He was and you knew it. You hadn’t been on a trip with Liu Kang alone since before you’d started dating Kung Lao. “He’d never liked the idea of me going on trips with you alone. Always insisted on coming with us or replacing you when Raiden suggested it.”

“Oh?” Liu seemed genuinely surprised and you turned to face him.

“Yeah. I asked him why once and he never gave me a straight answer. You know how he was with that kind of stuff. It was like pulling teeth.” You missed your bag. It had become a security blanket in Liu Kang’s presence. “Now I’ll never know the reason. There’s so many things that I’ll never know.” You pulled the blanket a little tighter. Liu Kang was deep in thought and just staring at you and so you let him and avoided his eyes.

“Did you ever tell him?” He was hesitant to ask. Probably afraid you’d flee again. You snapped your gaze up to his in surprise. “About before you two were together.”

“What? No! No, god no.” You laughed awkwardly. “I didn’t want to cause any trouble between the two of you. He could be kind of jealous sometimes.” You liked those memories. It had never been a bad kind of jealousy. It had been cute and he’d always denied until after you’d fought about it and wound up rolling around together in bed. “Did you tell him?”

“I almost did once, but no. We’d been arguing and I almost let it out just to spite him.”

You inhaled sharply. That would have been a mess. “Yikes. Do you remember what you’d been fighting about?”

“It was something stupid. I don’t remember.” Liu averted his eyes. Was it something stupid? Or did he not remember? He was lying but you wouldn’t argue with him. You were in no place to push each other’s boundaries right now. This was the first real civil conversation you’d had while sober since Kung Lao died. “I just remember thinking about the trouble it would have caused you, so I held my tongue.”

“I appreciate that.”

“I knew you would.”

“Liu?” You wanted to apologize, and your gaze caught the scrape on his arm, left untended.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N.” He inhaled sharply as you touched the scrape, far more than he should have for such a small wound, as if your touch burned him.

“I’m worried about you.”

“Not ready to talk about that. Still… processing.” At least he hadn’t snapped at you. You lifted his arm and he scooted closer as if eager for your touch. “It’s fine. Didn’t even break the skin really.”

“Thank you for helping me back there.”

“I promised him that I would keep you safe.” He assured you and you rolled your eyes at him. He laughed which was short lived but also a wonderful sound. You had never needed him or Kung Lao to keep you safe. It had never stopped them from wanting to do just that. You would let him. If it made him feel better, then that was what mattered.

“That woman gave me directions and a charm to present to Nightwolf. We can leave in the morning but it’s a long hike. Three days, she said. We should rest.”

“I don’t think I can. I’m going to stay outside a bit longer.” Liu gestured to the stars. You’d both found peace in the sky in the past, both separately and together. Some things never changed, you guessed. You stood up and made to leave him on his own. He didn’t want you there and you knew that. So you would go back to the bed and to what little you had left of Kung Lao.

“Goodnight, Liu Kang.” You bowed politely but were surprised when he grabbed your hand. His thumb carefully brushed over the back of your knuckles. Your throat suddenly felt too full to talk. This was familiar. More familiar than it should have been. He’d stopped you that night too. He’d asked you to stay a bit longer with him. You had been drunk but had melted just the same and you were melting now.

“Don’t go just yet, Y/N.” He didn’t look up at you but he held your hand firmly. You considered that it was maybe a bad idea but sat down with him again anyway. He let go of your hand and then you sat side by side and watched the stars in silence. It wasn’t awkward, finally. It wasn’t long before you couldn’t keep your eyes open and had fallen asleep sitting up.

Next Chapter >>

[xpeachesncream]

Hi! A drabble idea i have for perfectly wrongnis that in an alternative universe where y/n ends up with jk and tae is jealous so he goes after her, you can decide the ending 😙👉👈

perfectly wrong | drabble [8]: who said you didn’t want jeon jungkook the way he wanted you?

word count: 2.3k

warnings: cussing, jealousy, almost had a taehyung v. jungkook round 2, alcohol consumption, block party scene, slight angst?

note: (this takes place after chapter 12) HOHHHKAY, ANON! I SEE YOU! I LOVE THE SWITCH UP HERE! we are in this thangythang 🤪 gotta show our other baby some love, right? this also ended up being a lot longer than planned so i’m sorry lol i just didn’t know how to end it properly. enjoy!

Enough time had passed and you were tired. You were tired and you were over this shit. Hell to the no you were not gonna let this man keep on walking all over you. This was not you.

You picked yourself up and dusted off your shoulders.

You've deleted Taehyung's number for good. Tossed out all those memories, the need, the want for him. You pushed aside longing for that familiar feeling. You were done and Taehyung fucking hates it. If he wasn't mad before, he's livid now. He hates losing. And he knows after the shit he pulled at Jin's party with Aiko and the way he disrespected you, he lost you fair and square. He noticed how well you were doing even after the whole incident - clinging onto Jungkook and the public PDA, doing all the flirty, cute couple shit. It drives him crazy that it can't be him, and he knows he's to blame for his stupid antics and messy attitude. He truly can't say he regrets throwing fists at Jungkook. Somehow, Taehyung knew he was always going to lose this battle in the end. It was only a matter of time.

"Wakey wakey to my favorite couple!" Yoongi yelled, repeatedly opening and closing Jungkook's door before he finally had the nerve to jump on top of you two snuggled under his sheets. "Block party time!"

"Get the fuck off." You mumbled near the crook of Jungkook's neck, causing him to slightly chuckle as he tried to wake himself up. Yoongi didn't move, his body weight still fully on top of you two, so you did what you had to do and kicked him off.

"Aish! Agh, ow!" He laughed as he fell onto the floor, grabbing his shin. Jungkook shot his head up and began to laugh, watching as he dramatically limped out of the room. "Y/N kicked me off the bed." He begins to tell Hobi, in which Hobi faintly replied with a 'serves you right for going into the room like that.'

"Did you really have to do that?" Kook snickered as he booped your nose and watched you stir in your position. Jungkook, surprisingly, had easily welcomed the fact that you've passed the unspoken "bestfriend" boundaries over time and how you opened that door. The title alone is what gave you both those boundaries, but if it were up to him, he would have asked you a long time ago about taking this further. He loved you, he truly did. He always has, but he always respected you before anything else. He just wanted to make sure you were happy first and foremost, whether or not that meant being with him or someone else, so he never pressed it. Instead, he figured he'd let it naturally happen if it was meant to. 

For the most part, you were good and that's all that mattered. You were good even though Taehyung had the nerve to do this shit to you and to call you a meaningless fuck. You were good because you had someone like Jungkook that could make you feel safe and protected. This entire time had you wondering if the person you were really meant to be with was in front of you this whole time. Why were you chasing someone like Taehyung when Jungkook was here? All the shit Jin and your friends had tossed your way, teasing you about your relationship with Kook - maybe it was true. Maybe there was some truth to it. That's why you opened the door to see what the other side was about.

"100%." You sat up to fully wake yourself up from the nap. Kook gets himself out first and heads to the bathroom to get ready. Once it was your turn to get ready, he waited outside in the living room along with Yoongi and Hobi. There was a block party happening downtown, with Yoongi and his friends dj'ing for some part of it. There would be tons of local restaurants, beer, wine and other food trucks in attendance, along with other activities like face painting and temporary tattoo booths, shit you'd pretty much see at a fair.

You'd done a great job avoiding Taehyung and running into him head on, so you were hoping your streak would remain alive tonight. You knew he'd be there. There was no way he wasn’t going to. Taehyung and his friends were always present at any event.

His silence was a curse. Had always been. So if he had anything to say to you now, you didn't wanna hear it.

After sitting in the car, taking swigs of vodka from a water bottle and chasing with White Claws, you all find yourselves walking through the food trucks and booths. The block party is fucking packed from end to end on the street, with You, Jungkook and Hobi trying your hardest to stick together. Yoongi had ran off to the main stage, already starting his set as you three are trying to find a good spot to dance and chill at. Kook is holding your hand, but as soon as you all find a spot you agree with, he's bringing you to the front so you could dance with and on him. Really, it's nothing new to you two, the dynamic not really changing even if you were exploring new heights in your relationship with him. Your friends also really appreciate the dynamic between you, them never really feeling like they're third-wheeling or out of place.

When DJ Yoongi is starting to slow the music down, Jungkook wraps his arms around your neck, singing along and holding you close as you vibe to the beat of Southside by Lloyd and Ashanti. Hobi is standing next to you like Kris Jenner, recording Yoongi during his entire set and trying his hardest not to bounce around too much while recording. All of a sudden, Yoongi's friend hops onto the tables and shit gets turnt really quick. It's almost like a mosh pit, except you and Jungkook were able to make it out and Hobi is somewhere within the crowd trying to find Yoongi on the other end.

"Shit, where's Hobi?" You said while tippytoeing, trying to catch a glimpse of his head in the sea of people.

"He'll be okay, I think? Let's head to the other side and see if we can find him and Yoongi." Jungkook says, intertwining his hands with yours as he leads the way towards the other side. It's a little calmer on this side being that there's a barrier to block off the party from the sidewalk area. You two catch a glimpse of Hobi making his way towards Yoongi next to the stage, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Ah, okay. I see him. Thank god." You say, pushing your back against the wall. You were just worried he would get hurt trying to find his way through.

"Hobi's a big boy." Jungkook chuckles, scrunching his nose. You two observe from the sidelines for a bit, figuring this is probably the safest area to stay at for awhile. "Hey, I'm gonna head to the bathroom, okay? You gonna be alright here?" Jungkook squeezes your hand as he looks down at you.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." He smiles toothlessly before planting a quick kiss on your head. You watch as he waddles off to the bathroom, a line starting to form around the corner just to get in like it's some kind of club. You lean your back against the wall, scrolling through your phone to keep yourself busy until he gets back.

"So, that's it, huh? Can't say I'm surprised, though." Taehyung says, coming out of fucking nowhere? He comes closer, nodding towards Jungkook's way. His eyes are piercing through you, and suddenly, every moment you had spent with him flashes in your head.

"Please get the hell away from me."

"Can we just talk for a minute?" Was he serious right now? Out of all fucking places?

"Talk about what, Taehyung?"

"Look, let me just say this. I'm sorry for how things went down at Jin's party. I—" He paused. "I didn't mean the things that I said."

"Then maybe you should learn how to think before you let shit come out of your mouth." You turn behind you to check if Jungkook is coming back anytime soon, but you don't see a sign of him. "I'm really not trying to do this--"

"Maybe next time you shouldn't come at me about toying with emotions." He's furrowing his brows, slight anger peeking through his eyes. He shakes his head before he steps closer to you, his hands dug into his pockets. "Can you really say that you're done with us?" He says softly, his gaze following from your eyes to your lips.

"Us?" You scoff. "There was never an us." You glare at him. "This is done. You said all of this yourself, loud and clear."

"Y/N, I was stupid. I just didn't know how to control my feelings about everything going on." His jaw slightly clenches.

"And that's your problem. You don't know how to control anything. You have things you need to figure out and quite frankly, I'm not trying to be around for it. I'm not waiting for you to get your shit together. I don't fucking deserve to put myself through this after all the mess you've caused, all the shit you've said to me." You shook your head "No."

"It's been Jungkook this whole time, hasn't it?" He scoffs. "You always denied it, but you knew it was always going to be him."

"Don't turn this on me."

"So, what? You think he's gonna do you like I did?" He comes closer, his breath hitting against the side of your neck. "Touch you like I did? Fuck you the way that I did?"

"None of that matters if you can't even pull yourself together and own up to your shit."

"You know this isn't what you want."

"And how do you know what I want, Taehyung? You don't even know what you want for yourself." He glares down at you.

"It's still you."

"Bullshit, you don't disrespect someone and expect them to come back. Not me." Suddenly, you feel Jungkook's hand around your wrist. You turn to see him and Taehyung having a stare off, afraid of what might ensue if you don't get Jungkook to walk away. You were not trying to have a Taehyung v. Jungkook Royal Rumble 2, not with all the cops and security present here.

"Are you serious?" Taehyung laughs. "If he's really the one you want, then whatever. So be it, I guess."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Jungkook spits out as you grip his arm tightly.

"Just thought your girl might have second thoughts, that’s all." He smirked slyly while shrugging. The thing with Taehyung is that he knew how to piss of anybody. He just didn’t give a flying fuck.

"Taehyung, stop." You say, getting in the middle. "We don't have shit to discuss anymore, okay? This is done. Get yourself together before you think about fucking over somebody else." You slightly push Jungkook to walk away, his eyes still kept on Taehyung until you've placed enough distance between the two.

"What else did he say to you?"

"Nothing, Kook."

"Y/N."

"He just tried to talk to me about Jin's party and apologize."

"Apologize?" He furrows his forehead.

"Leave it, Jungkook. It's fine, alright?" He sighs heavily.

"Alright." Jungkook doesn't say much for the rest of the night, and so don't you. You both tried your hardest to push it aside and enjoy the rest of the night, but everyone knows the damage Taehyung has done and what that comes with. It's just awkward, and a really uncomfortable vibe whenever you two happen to cross paths again in one way or another. You weren't trying to be friends, you weren't trying to talk about anything. He made himself clear at Jin's party. You weren't shit to him. So why should you care?

After the block party, everyone is pretty tired and is ready to go straight to bed. You all take turns washing up and getting ready in Jungkook's apartment, Jungkook being the last to step out of the bathroom in a shirt and pajama pants. He watches you sit on his bed quietly, scrolling through your phone.

"Hey." He says softly, gently touching your arm to bring you closer to him.

"Yeah?"

"You know I care about you, right? You know how I feel about you." He says in a soft tone.

"I know."

"So then you know that your happiness is more important to me than mine. You're what matters here."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I know I tell you time and time again that you deserve better than Taehyung, but part of me also feels like I really can't stop you from feeling what you feel. If you--" His head drops as he sighs. "If you wanna work this out with him, just tell me." He says, genuinely concerned about your feelings. He knows he wouldn't hurt you but he's also partially afraid that you might be distracted since things didn't turn out well with Taehyung. Although, whatever, it's always gonna be a big fuck you to him. He's an asshole, and Jungkook was never going to change his mind about it. But what mattered here was you. Kook knew you deserved way better and he was willing to be that for you, but he wasn't going to force you if this wasn't where you truly wanted to be.

"I am happy. Right here."

"Are you sure?"

"Kook. That's done with. I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay." Is all he responds with before he's pressing lips into a fine line and squeezing your hand. He leans over to kiss you on the forehead before he makes his way out of the room to help your bestfriends get settled out in the living room.

[allthingshetalia]

Hey bro uhm I sent an ask about Denmark and Spain with an s/o who worries a lot and headcanons on how they calm them down, like I sent it awhile ago but I think it got lost in your asks, sorry for bothering you plz don’t rush 🥺🥺🥺💖💖 have a nice day bro!!

💕I don’t remember seeing this! Things gets lost in my inbox all the time tho💕

Denmark

He is very laid back and chill and rarely gets worried over something, so you would probably have to verbally voice your distress for him to even realize what you are going through

He’s not very good at offering you advice if you come to him, needing someone to talk you down

But he is very good at distracting you from your worries!

Why don’t you build a Lego castle with him

Or maybe play some video games? Or hell maybe even a coloring book, or ice skating , or learning how to kayak, playing chess?

He has all sorts of things for you two to do

Spain

He is a lot better at listening to you and actually helping you through your problems

He is very good at making you realize that your worries are small and shouldn’t be affecting you this much- without making you feel invalidated

He has a weighted blanket that he throws over you while you tell him your worries

He also makes sure to always have warm drinks on hand and the ingredients to your favorite comfort meal

If all your worries give you a headache then he always has headache medicine

He also makes sure you get at least an hour of sun each day, because he believes sunshine is the best medicine!

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels: SHORT SERIES PART 5 FINAL

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3 / PART 4

Member: Lee Juyeon

Genre: angst and ... fluff? lots and lots of fluff?

A/N: WHAT a ride, what a ride. thank you for reading through this, i know it took REALLY long so i hope it was worth the wait. this is a short chapter because i didn’t want to make it draggy ;(

Taglist: @muvtharecca​

“I'd rather be with you.”

ring

your eyes stir first. a deep breath through your nostrils. the cool air sours the nerves in your nose and there is a weight on your waist when your legs twitch under the blanket. 

ring

the noise urges you to wake your muscles up, and your eyes finally open to watch the rather heavy snow billowing outside the window. 

gentle, cotton-like white sunlight coats the room with its angelic touch, and it was made all the more heavenly when you process juyeon’s scent wafting in the air.

ring

“please tell me you don’t have a husband wondering why you didn’t go home last night.”

the statement feels like a flick in your cheek as you turn around, a rigid frown on your forehead and ready to give him a slap on his face.

but he notices your need to defend yourself through half hooded eyes, and he kisses you like flowers in the sun, in a bid to stop you.

ring

juyeon pulls away and wipes your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes travelling back and forth between your eyes and your lips.

“are you gonna get that or am i getting it for you and telling the person we spent the night together?”

a scoff runs through your dry throat as you turn on your back and fumble across the night stand, reaching for your phone. 

“hello?”

“oh, good. you’re alive.”

“hi, kev,” a smile spreads across your lips, and juyeon tightens his hold around your waist, nestling his face into the back of your neck. 

“are you planning on coming to work or do i tell him you’re ‘unwell’ today?”

juyeon leaving light, flowery pecks on your skin pushes you into distracting bliss, with the snow falling outside and the christmas decorations on the opposite building a striking red against the cream walls.

“i--”

“i’ll send you to work. what time do you need to be there?” 

“oh my goodness, did you--”

the phone is snatched away from your ear and juyeon presses the screen to his ear. 

“what time does she need to get to work?”

a pause. kevin is definitely surprised because he’s louder than normal, but it sounds like he is telling juyeon what to do with his colleague.

“okay, i’ll get her there by then. okay, bye, thanks.”

juyeon hangs up before you could say bye to kevin, and he places the phone on the nightstand on his side, away from your reach. 

“what time did he say i could get to the office?”

“in an hour,” juyeon shoves an arm under your neck, and the other circling around your waist even tighter than before as he pulls you on top of his chest. 

the warmth feels nauseatingly addictive. it feels like coffee on a cold day; a warm embrace after a long walk alone. 

you cautiously wrap your arm around the sides of his chest, ear pressed into his skin and listening to the soft, rhythmic beating of his heart.

it really sounds like music, a gentle lullaby that you’d listen to sleep.

“come on,” he buries his nose into your hair and takes a deep breath. “any later and you’re going to be late for work. you can get a sandwich and some tea on the way to work.”

it takes a considerable amount of effort to pull you away from him, your hands pressing flat into the mattress as you push yourself up. 

the strands of your hair get tangled in his fingers when he reaches up to tuck them behind your ear, and he cranes his neck upwards to give you a little peck on your nose. 

we lost five years, but why does it feel like we didn’t? 

you have the universe in your eyes but all i am seeing is my face in the reflection off the windows to your soul. 

every pore, every wrinkle, every crease on your face i can memorise like lyrics in a song. 

the hymn of your voice is not honey but silk on my skin when you sing words of comfort into my bones.

you may be the fire to my candle that wears me out, but you are also the light that brings me purpose. 

without you, i am nothing. without me, you are untouchable. 

unreachable.

“unbelievable,” the whisper comes out more like a gentle sigh when you rush out through the door of the apartment building. 

the skies are white and it looks like the gods had tucked planet earth away with a fluffy, cotton blanket. 

juyeon greets the lobby administrator, patting his pocket to make sure his car keys were present. 

little specks of white land in your hair under your beanie and your lashes, and you are snapped out of your winter wonderland when juyeon wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

the feeling fills your gut with an overwhelmingly nauseating taste of nostalgia, and juyeon gives you a smile when he knows you are aware of his intentions. 

“really trying to make up for those times, aren’t you?” 

juyeon looks away, the grin widening in his eyes and halving them into the crescents that should belong in the sky along with the stars.

“i’m going to try, and i’m going to hope you’ll let me.”

his confession feels like a little puppy jumping out of a box that was under the christmas tree. 

“when did you learn to talk like that?” a tease runs off your tongue and you wrap your arm around his lower torso. 

“when i realised i can’t lose you again,” juyeon looks back down at you and blinks, the movement seeming like it lasts forever. 

you purse your lips in an effort to hide your smile, but juyeon tells right away and finds your chin, tilting it upwards to lay a gentle act of affection on your lips.

he pulls away, and for awhile, it’s like there is nobody else in the world besides the two of you. 

your head is tilted again, ready to lean forward for another moment of undying love when a honk blares the both of you out of your romance. 

both your head snaps around and you look at kevin in a cab. 

“very sweet, but sorry to burst your bubble-- you have fifteen minutes to get to work, else our boss will have your head.”

you turn to juyeon automatically, and he leaves a peck on your forehead, releasing you and nudging you to the cab.

“go,” he nods. “i don’t want you to be late. i’ll drop by your office after your work and we’ll go get dinner.”

agreement finds your nerves in the form of a nod too, and you hurry to the cab once you realise the driver looked like he was having a shit-ass day. 

juyeon waves you off as the cab drives off, and you revel in the cliche, romance movie playing over and over and over and over--

“wow, he really got you good, huh?” kevin snorts, and you turn to see him leaning forwards, trying to read your obviously zoned out expression.

“tsk,” you whack him with your handbag. “let me live a little.”

kevin laughs as you place the handbag back into your lap, hands pressing into the leather. 

the pressure on the bag evokes a strange plastic crinkling, and your hand slides in to investigate the source of the noise.

kevin is looking out the window when you pull out the familiar looking items, items that coaxed you out of your shell and into juyeon’s arms so long ago.

your eyes travel upwards from the sweets in your hand and out onto the streets as the buildings whir past, soft smile and decided vulnerability never once leaving your heart. 

and you’re pretty sure it’s never going to slip through your fingers again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

[minidigidestined]

Antlion and Seung

A oneshot I started like a year ago and finished the other day. it is the meeting of two of my OCs, Antlion and Seung. Just something short, simple and fun... I may rework it and turn it into its own series!

XXX

"Alright, Bonk, let's get out of here. I think we've got about all we can carry." Auburn hair tied into twin tails with string fluttered in the spring breeze as a stout woman screwed the cap back on the last of the many canteens hanging from the belt at her waist, slipping a morel mushroom into the straps on her back. She wiped the sweat from her brow with the hem of her dress, squinting at the fading sun. "Plus it's getting late. Owls will be out." Each movement--down to the most minute--efficient, sure and almost mechanical. A round toad, pale white and studded with cheerfully ruddy warts, stared back at her with scarlet eyes. He stood about an inch or two taller than his possibly human companion--well, if you didn't count her absolutely diminutive stature or slitted eyes, along with a few other uncanny features.   Bonk cocked his head, looking concerned and almost as uncanny as the girl with his wide mouth and unwavering stare.   His throat swelled with a chirp of warning, but the tiny woman was preoccupied with situating the plump morel among her gear. "This'll be some great eating! Mix it up with some roasted crickets back at the hollow and we'll definitely be good to hole up for a coup--" The ground rumbled with the slightest of vibrations, but silence hung heavy in the air--with even the cicada choir gone quiet, that definitely meant there was some sneaky predator around.   "Bonk, go!" Without a second thought, the tiny lady swung atop her warty steed, grasping onto his parotid glands for purchase. The albino toad lurched forward with a mighty hop, abandoning their puddle of rainwater and shooting toward the trail leading to their burrow in the gnarled roots of an old oak... ...And slammed straight into an open palm. "Hm. I'm sorry." The voice that rumbled above them was thoughtful, quiet, calculating. And yet no less terrifying. A human this far in the woods couldn't mean anything good. Bonk fell backwards, chirping desperately as he sprung up to cover his friend with his heavy-set body, flattening down on top of her. Terrified, she pressed her face into the soft bumpy skin of his belly, mind rushing to think of the old Nature Queens her mother had taught her about when she was young. Something to pray to. To cry to. And quite possibly to curse at. She had never once been this foolish and oblivious before, but she had just been so tired and hungry... She and Bonk both had lost so much weight during the barren winter, but she thought with the recent rain their luck was changing at last. She got too excited, a rookie mistake when out foraging. "Stupid..." She grit her teeth together, willing her tears away as she felt Bonk's rapid heartbeat thrum against her face.   "An albino--how rare and pretty." The once-before dreary voice now seemed to hold a bit of sparkle. "Let me get a good look at you...you're a big guy for being so bright out here. Figured you would have been eaten by now. Lucky one." Long fingers gently curled around Bonk's abdomen, lifting the little toad right on up despite his now outraged wriggling. "Piss rocket, Bonk! Piss on him!" The girl grit between her teeth.   She knew the human would see her any second now--and once he did, it was all over. Bonk began to squirm wildly, spraying a certain kind of liquid artillery as his tiny feet grasped for his friend's hands. His red eyes shone with terror, the woman's own black eyes reflecting pure rage. The human lifted Bonk completely into the air after getting a firm grasp on his back legs, turning the amphibian with a sure hand to face their visage head-on. The tiny woman finally got a good look at them--tall and rail thin, pale eyes and hair brushed away from their brow and tied in a high ponytail. Everything about them seemed pointed and grim,  fragile like glass, a stark contrast to both the woman and Bonk's soft, rounded and much sturdier looking shapes. "Such bright colors." The human mused, flipping Bonk over to inspect his belly. "I just can't get over it. How did such a garish little thing like you survive so long?"   The woman eyed a strange contraption hanging around the human's neck, a circular lens catching the last of the fading sun. Bonk smacked the human with his front feet and swelled his throat, all out of pee and struggling to escape. I can't let this go on, The woman thought. Who cares about the elf courts? The rules? No one's here to listen in now. No nobles have ever helped me, and I refuse to let a damn thing happen to Bonk! The tiny lass, no more  than a few inches tall, whisked her blade from the strap at her hip--be it but a sewing needle, she knew it could still draw blood if neccessary. She slipped the morel from her back to use as a, uh... Club? Shield? She wasn't quite sure at this point, vision going red with rage and brain dizzy with fear. He's all I have left. "Put him down!" She cried at the top of her little lungs. "Or else my Deathweaver will have a taste of you, human!" The human seemed to startle for a moment, flinching inward and glancing around almost sheepishly. Then their gaze flicked down, jaw going slack. I'm all he has. Anything but leaving him behind, She reminded herself as her blood turned to ice.   She tried to imagine herself as a human would--being tiny was shocking enough she was sure, but her long ears, mottled white and tan skin, black spots, slitted eyes, whip tail and her hands covered in setae? She had seen how humans reacted before... Knowing some kind of earth magic would be great right about now... Anything more than a knitting needle to keep from getting stepped on. Oh, how she wished she had been as talented as the rest of her family! "...You look like a House Gecko. Mediterranean." The human blinked. "But a person. At the same time. Huh." She blinked back, then sneered. "I am Antlion." The woman gripped her needle, growling. "And you will unhand my friend at once!"   She was shaking uncontrollably. The human continued to stare, Bonk himself going still and cocking his head as if confused by the sudden stand-off.   "Well, I'm Seung." The human said, plainly. "I need to get a look at you." "Excuse me?! I'll poke out your--" Her war cry became a squeal when the human reached forward with his free hand. She rolled out of the way--just how Honey-Lavender taught me--but it still wasn't enough. The human's fingers caught the strap across her back, lifting her right off the ground. Antlion snarled, kicking her legs and thrusting her needle upwards. She laughed when it raced across the human's palm, making them wince. "Bring me to your face, Seung!" She hissed out mockingly. "Let's see you look at me with no eyes!" Seung's lips twisted in a wry smile. "What a shame that would be." "Eeugh?" Antlion felt heat rise to her cheeks before baring her teeth. "Let my friend go or your nose is mine!" She pointed the needle right at their face, wincing inwardly when she noticed something more along the lines of a paper cut rather than the grievous wound she had been aiming for on her foe's wrist. "You've got attitude. Usually house geckos are runners. How interesting. You do have the markings though. Does your tail drop?" Antlion stared straight forward, her black and silver eyes locked into his own. The clear blue of a frozen lake. An early morning sky before frost. Delicate as glass. She burned. She'd do anything to melt that ice into nothing. The little woman cursed her diminutive size. "Hm. I could see why you'd be frustrated." They seemed to snap out of a fog. "I guess that was rude. I've just never seen anything like you. And your companion is an albino american toad? With your...aggression, I suppose I know how he's survived so long despite his color." Bonk croaked indignantly. Antlion's eyes narrowed, her sword arm unwavering. "We grew up together, I raised him from a tadpole. I'd do anything to keep him safe--even slay a giant like you." "There's no need for any slaying." Seung said dryly, the edge of their mouth curling into something like a smile. "Let me prove it to you." Carefully, they lowered both of their hands to the earth, placing each of his tiny charges back on the ground. "There." Antlion's heart was in her throat, even as Bonk pressed his face into her shoulders, his body loose with relief. "What are you doing, human?" "I would just like to talk. Ask some questions." Seung said delicately. "I'm studying herpetology right now, and I'm the president of the photography club. The only member of it, actually." "I do not know what your silly words mean." Antlion's eyes became angry slits, the human's shadow encompassing her. "That's okay, we'll get there." Seung nodded, as if this were all completely natural to them. "What do you mean?" Antlion demanded, eying them warily as she sheathed her Deathweaver. "We are friends now, are we not? I have a bit of cheese and crackers I'm willing to spare. Let us sit and talk awhile." The little gecko woman blinked. This human was...different. Intriguing and unflinching. She held tight to her anger. Anger kept you safe. But it had been so very long since she had cheese... So even though she was breaking about thirty seven different laws...in their shadow they remained. "I will speak in exchange for cheese." Antlion huffed. "But we are not friends. You giants are my enemy!" Seung smirked softly, reaching into their bag for the snacks. "Of course. So, why don't we start with what in the world you are, then?" Antlion sucked in a deep breath. Bonk nudged her arm, looking just as curious and hungry as she did. She had been lonely for such a long time. Quiet for even longer. And this human...odd as they were, they were also kind. Gentle. Even after she had threatened and spit and spat at them. Perhaps they could be useful to a beast elf like her. After all, there were no law keepers to punish her for simply...using the resources around her, now was there? So she let go for the first time in many years, and began to speak.

Patreon: https://href.li/?https://www.patreon.com/toadwarts?fan_landing=true

Ko-fi:    ko-fi.com/toadwarts

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToadWarts