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cutieeva · 2 months

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God Of The Chisel

𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐣𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐮 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐧 Female Reader

Warnings : Manipulation. Detail Sex. Rape.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

❛ 見る人目の ❜

Sculpture. Molding soul into a form, where art meets emotions. That's the definition for (Y/N), the reason of her learning it, the motivation of her creating such art because she can release her emotions through it yet what happens if she has to create the most beautiful sculpture in the entire world, a sculpture who fell for his own sculpturor.

"So, (Y/N) senpai what sculpture are you going to do this time ?" Itadori Yūji asked clearly excited for his senior's new otherworldly addition to arrive.

"I have no idea this time". She answered, a deep sigh slip her lips as her (E/C) eyes continue to stare at the thin poster of competition.

"Why though ? You are a genius in our major or should I say in Cutieeva university". Kugisaki Nobara replied, chewing the thin end of her paintbrush. "Right Megu-chan ?" The said boy, Fushiguro Megumi nod senselessly busy creating his own carving.

"Look, the competition has clearly said the participators has to sculpture the most beautiful creation the world has yet to seen out of their perspective imaginations and the winner would only be who's sculpture is most well loved by the audience not even judges or critics !!" (Y/N) explained re-reading the poster. "If my art didn't seem beautiful enough to normal eyes than it will be pure humiliation ! Not only for me but for other participators too ! Because it indirectly suggest that us all elite students of art isn't yet good enough to be approved by daily to daily audience only capable to approve to the mediocre judges who stuck by rules and that we are worthlessly wasting money". She expressed her further worries.

"Oh ! I didn't knew it was that deep". Yuji glib laughed.

"Shut up !" Nobora nudged the boy seeing (Y/N) dug fingers on her scale as if she desire to rip hair from the roots.

"(Y/N)-san do not worry. Art is a way to release your emotions not for others to ridicule". Getō Suguru smiled, walking into the art studio earning all four student's attention. "No pressure should be felt or else the art won't be as nearly beautiful as it could be if you do it like you did in the past".

"But Suguru sensei I can't stand the humiliation of losing in front of others so bluntly". Shamefully she down her head.

"Then mold it". (Y/N) tilted her head.

"What do you mean ?" Geto smiled wider.

"Mold your frustration, anger, disappointed, fear on the clay. Use your vivid imagination of horrors and your version of beauty on the sculpture. Use this gift of sculpting to release your emotions so you can at least create something because without creating how can you refine it in the first place ?" The art teacher thoroughly described his most talented student who nod feeling a bit light yet uncertain.

"Also those monkeys are called monkeys for a reason if they don't understand your brilliant art". He added causing Yuji to chuckle.

"They are humans as you, sensei". Megumi mutter loud enough for each to hear.

"Also Fushiguro-San not forget I will be there to inspect your sculpture".

"I know".

"I am reminding it. Just in case". Geto merely smiled at the black head boy glaring at him making other three laugh.

"Ha ! Thank you Suguru sensei and megumi-Chan ! I will do my best". She raised her closed fist in the air.

"Thank us too !" Yuji yelled.

"Thank you Yuji-chan and nobara-chan too". She added giggling at their childish antics finding a new spirit to work with even though in the back of her mind she wonder what will be the result of her emotions molding the clay will be.

In a quiet, isolated white room (Y/N)'s fingers wrapped around the cool, damp clay, she felt an surge of creative energy coursing through her veins. With unwavering focus, she closed her eyes, surrendering to the depths of her imagination. In the darkness, a vision began to take shape— the most breathtakingly beautiful form her mind could conjure. With each gentle touch, the clay yielded to her will, as if alive and responding to her every thought. Her hands moved deftly, sculpting the body, hands, arms, and every delicate detail, just as she envisioned. Time stood still as she became one with the creative process, lost in the pool of her imagination.

Hours passed, or perhaps only moments – (Y/N) was oblivious to the world around her. Her entire being was consumed by the artistic expression unfolding beneath her fingers. Finally, she opened her eyes, and her gaze fell upon the emerging masterpiece. Almost half of the body had taken form, and she gasped in wonder, grasping the clay as if to ensure it was real. A soft smile spread across her face as she realized that whatever she was creating was going to be breathtakingly beautiful – a true reflection of the vision that had possessed her. The clay seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if infused with the essence of her imagination. (Y/N)'s heart swelled with excitement, knowing that she was crafting something extraordinary, a testament to the transformative power of art.

As the day succumbed to the allure of twilight, (Y/N) remained entranced, her fingers moving with a life of their own. The setting sun cast a warm orange glow upon her workspace, but she didn't notice. The stars began to twinkle like diamonds in the night sky, and the moon rose high, bathing the world in a soft, ethereal light. Yet, she continued to create, oblivious to the passage of time. Hours melted away, and the night deepened, however (Y/N)'s focus never wavered. Her body seemed to forget its needs – hunger, fatigue, and thirst became distant memories. Her sole purpose was to bring forth the masterpiece unfolding before her. The clay appeared to respond to her every touch, as if a divine force had taken residence within her.

With each delicate stroke, the sculpture evolved, gaining refinement and nuance. (Y/N)'s hands moved with a precision that bordered on reverence, as if she were channeling the essence of the divine. The air around her seemed to vibrate with creative energy, and the clay itself appeared to pulse with an otherworldly life. In this state of flow, (Y/N) became one with her art, transcending mortality. Her soul merged with the sculpture, infusing it with a spark of the divine. The boundaries between creator and creation blurred, and she became the deity, shaping the clay with an omnipotent touch. Time lost all meaning as she worked tirelessly, sleepless and unrelenting, driven by an insatiable passion to bring forth perfection.

As the next day dawned, her fingers moved with a newfound sense of purpose, her fingers deftly shaping the final details of her masterpiece. The sculpture stood before her, a magnificent form born from her unwavering dedication. Yet, one crucial element remained— the face, the window to the soul, where expression and emotion would breathe life into her creation. Thus, she was about to move to add details when the sun's warm, golden light danced across her art, her (E/C) eyes gaze locked onto her creation, and she felt the weight of reality settle upon her. The world around her snapped into focus, and she beheld her masterpiece in awe.

Transfixed, she reached out a trembling hand to touch the sculpture, as if to ensure it was truly real. However her body finally acknowledged its limits, her legs buckled, and she sank to the ground, exhausted. A soft cry escaped her lips as she left a voice message "Nobara... food... water..." she whispered, voice barely audible.

Despite her physical collapse, an overwhelming sense of joy and pride swelled within her chest, threatening to burst forth. Tears of happiness pricked at the corners of her eyes as she gazed upon her creation, now radiant in the warm sunlight. The sculpture seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if infused with the essence of her being. (Y/N)'s heart overflowed with a sense of accomplishment, knowing she had poured her very soul into this masterpiece that is yet to be finished.

Moments later Nobara approached Y/N with a gentle smile, carrying a tray laden with food and water, the aroma of nourishment wafted through the air, enticing Y/N's senses. Nobara's eyes sparkled with warmth as she helped Y/N sit up, cradling her head as she offered a refreshing sip of water.

Meanwhile, Yuji's excitement burst forth like a pent-up torrent, his words tumbling out in an effusive stream: "Wow, (Y/N) senpai this is... this is... incredible! The detail, the emotion, the sheer beauty of it! It's like nothing I've ever seen before!" His gaze darted between his senior and the sculpture, his eyes aglow with wonder.

Geto, beaming with pride, nodded his head in approval, his smile stretching from ear to ear. "(Y/N)-san, my student, you have truly outdone yourself. I've never seen such imagination, such skill, such... life breathed into a creation. You've surpassed even my expectations!"

Megumi, usually a silent observer, stood transfixed, his dark blue eyes fixed upon the sculpture as if mesmerized. His gaze seemed to hold a deep reverence, as if the artwork had awakened a part of him long dormant. For once, his quiet nature was not a result of reserve, but rather, utter captivation.

(Y/N) sipped the water and nibbled on the food, her strength slowly returning, she smiled weakly, basking in the praise and admiration of her friends and teacher. The warmth of their words enveloped her, filling her with a sense of pride and accomplishment.

"I know. This year's grand prize will also be rewarded to our university, won by none other than you, (Y/N) !" Geto's eyes shone with warm and paternal pride. His smile radiated deep satisfaction like his heart had been poured into the sculpture. Unspoken awe. Golden pride.

(Y/N) blush from all the showers of compliment yet she remained a little doubtful as the expression of the face is yet to be crafted dwelling whether the window of the model's will ruin her almost masterpiece.

"Hopefully I can create his expression. I still do not know how or what to shape his expression, hair". Nobora chuckle, sitting near her.

"Do not worry ! We all believe in you. Do your best !" She raised her fist in the air, trying to cheer her friend which she succeed because (Y/N)'s tension dissolved, chewing the food.

"But ! Do not forget to take food because forget award you can't even move your hands if this is how it goes on". Megumi calmly advised.

"Right ! (Y/N) senpai ! Please rest your body". Yuji cheerfully agreed, still captivated by the art with his eyes.

"Thank you. I will". And she did heed to their advise taking full three hours break while laying on her bed with jumble of confusion, thoughts tangled in a web of uncertainty inside her mind. She stared blankly at the clay, her fingers poised in mid-air, as if waiting for the familiar spark of inspiration to strike.

However it didn't come.

For the first time, her natural gift seemed to be faltering. She felt like a novice again, fumbling in the dark, unsure of how to mold his expression. The ease with which she usually shaped clay into breathtaking works of art had deserted her. Her eyes, once closed in confident intuition, now snapped open in frustration. Reaching for a sketchbook, (Y/N) began to scribble down ideas, trying to coax her elusive creativity back to the surface. The pencil scratched across the paper, a staccato rhythm that echoed her racing thoughts. She was forced to confront the possibility that her imagination, once a boundless ocean, might have limits after all.

This unfamiliar struggle was like reminiscing her beginning stage again, rediscovering the basics of her craft. The discomfort was palpable, like trying to relearn a forgotten language. Fingers moved hesitantly, as if seeking permission to create, her mind clouded by self-doubt. The sketchbook became a lifeline, a tangible connection to her artistic voice, which seemed to be whispering in a language she could no longer understand.

"I think I should sleep". Trying for hours with no avails she shut her notebook harshly, closing her eyes to drift into the land of dream in hopes of re-freshing her mind and back to her usual gifted self.

(Y/N) unusually found herself standing in a familiar sun-drenched studio, surrounded by half-finished sculptures and scattered tools. Her late mother stood before a work-in-progress, chisel in hand and for odd reasons she approached, curiosity etched on her face, and asked "Mother, what are you doing?"

"I am creating a sculpture, sweet one. I'm bringing this clay to life." A smile curve upon her frown look

(Y/N)'s gaze wandered to a nearby model, posed with elegance, yet lacking an upper torso. "Mother, why is she like that?" she asked, her voice tinged with innocence.

"Oh, my child, I couldn't complete her". Her mother burst into laughter

"Then will it always be like this?" Her younger self tilted her head.

Her mother's expression turned gentle, "No, my dear. Creating art means being patient. When I feel stuck, I pause, enjoy life, and give time for creativity to return to me. It's like a river, flowing and ebbing. I must learn to wait for the tide to come back."

And suddenly the image turn distant and faded into burl letting (Y/N) open her eyes with tears gliding her sides and reality welcome her, a world without her mother.

The memory of her mother's words lingering like a whispered secret with other bitter memories of her coffin flood too spreading a bittersweet taste on her lips. "Mother you never left me. Did you ?" Smiling to her herself she understood the truth : patience was the key. She needed to wait, to let her imagination recharge, and trust that the muse would return to her when the time was right rather than forcing the art to flow.

From the moment on she let go the weight that had been pressing upon her by abandoning the almost-finished sculpture, leaving it to stand silently, a testament to her temporary surrender.

With a newfound sense of freedom, she wandered into the garden, her fingers trailing across the soft petals of blooming flowers. The gentle rustle of leaves and sweet songs of birds enveloped her, calming her mind. Next, she found herself lounging on her bed, surrounded by pillows, lost in the world of games on her console. The vibrant colors and soothing music transported her to a realm where worries didn't exist.

As the day wore on, (Y/N) continued to indulge in the joy of doing nothing. She lazily flipped through the pages of a book, savoring the feel of the paper between her fingers. The words blurred together, but she didn't care – she was too busy basking in the serenity of the moment. Time lost all meaning as she drifted from one leisurely activity to the next. The competition, the sculpture, and her doubts all faded into the background, replaced by a sense of tranquility and release.

Until the creativity flowed back to her motivating her emotions to meet her clay giving birth to the sculpture's expression she always think is the true definition. With renewed inspiration, (Y/N) approached her sculpture, her hands moving with deliberate purpose. She carefully crafted the expression, etching a window to the soul onto the cold, clay body. The eyes, once blank, now sparkled with a deep, inner light, as if the very essence of life had been breathed into them.

The subtle curve of his lips, the gentle tilt of the head, all conspired to reveal the depths of the subject's being. The clay, once mere material, had transformed into a vessel for the human experience and the sculptor stepped back, her gaze swept across the masterpiece, drinking in the nuances of her creation. The world, with all its complexities and emotions, seemed to emanate from this single, silent form.

With a final, gentle touch, she completed the sculpture, infusing it with a sense of vulnerability and strength. The cold body now pulsed with a quiet, inner radiance, as if the very soul of the subject had been laid bare for all to see. In this moment, (Y/N) knew she had created something extraordinary—a window to the human experience, crafted with precision, passion, and patience. The world would soon behold her masterpiece and she was ready to be crowned as the winner of all, surrounded by claps of people.

"But what the name of this model will be ?" Deep in thought she grab her notebook looking at her male utter beautiful sculpture posed in the very same pose she choose before a name pop in her mind and she bestow the name sought to capture the harmony of opposing forces that her sculpture embodied. "Gojo" represented the balance of the five elements or more like five attributes of the human body such as head, body, arm, torse while "Satoru" symbolized the enlightenment and comprehend of his unworldly creation.

"Good". Smiling, she name her creation, granted him an identity, a sense of self that transcended the mere clay and stone even creating a inexplicable connection to herself with the art. "Is this how mother felt granting her pieces names ?" A chuckle escape her lips remembering how the old woman usually call her pieces her children along her own breathing child, (Y/N).

The competition host's voice boomed, "Welcome to the Grand People's Award Choice! Today, you will decide which sculpture reigns supreme!" The crowd murmured in excitement as they began their journey through the exhibition hall.

Sculptures of varying shapes, sizes, and materials dotted the landscape, each one unique and breathtaking in its own right. The host deliberately omitted the artists' names, allowing the art to speak for itself. Amidst the sea of onlookers, the creators themselves blended in, anonymous and eager.

(Y/N) fidgeted, her mind racing with doubts despite her teacher's encouraging words and her friends' reassurances and the crowd flowed around her, something remarkable happened. People would pause, glance at her sculpture, the Gojo Sataru, and then stop dead in their tracks. They couldn't help but be drawn back to the majestic male form, as if an otherworldly deity had been captured in clay.

Whispers spread like wildfire: "This one...this one is something special." Strangers would nod in agreement, their eyes locked on the sculpture's serene face. Even those who attempted to move on to other pieces found themselves inexplicably returning, transfixed by the beauty before them.

As the hours ticked by, a sense of certainty settled over the crowd. It was as if the winner had already been chosen, not by the judges, but by the people themselves. (Y/N)'s anxiety began to dissipate, replaced by a cautious optimism. She crossed her fingers, hoping against hope that the next hours would fly by, bringing the voting to a close and confirming what the crowd had already decided in their hearts.

The countdown clock struck its final moment, and the host's face ignited with a triumphant smile. "The moment of truth has arrived!" he declared, his voice electric with excitement. "The votes are in, and the winner of this Supreme competition will be revealed!"

(Y/N) held her breath, her heart racing like a wild stallion. Her friends offered reassuring pats on the shoulder, but she was too entranced by the host's dramatic pause to notice.

The room hung in suspended animation, the only sound the soft hum of bated breath. And then, a sly smile crept onto the host's lips, like a whispered secret. He parted his lips, and (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat.

"(L/N) (Y/N) from Cutieeva University... Congratulations! You are the champion!" he announced, his voice thundering through the hall like a victorious fanfare.

Pandemonium erupted as (Y/N) stood frozen, her eyes wide with wonder. Her friends screamed with joy, hugging her tightly as tears of elation streamed down her face. The host approached her, a congratulatory envelope in hand, and (Y/N) felt like she was soaring on the wings of triumph, her dream finally within grasp. She still can't believe out of all the brilliant universities around the globe did her sculpture won, granting her the award. (Y/N) felt like she was living in a dream, where time blurred and moments merged into a kaleidoscope of emotions. One instant, she was standing frozen, her heart racing with excitement; the next, she was beside the host, basking in the glory of her triumph.

The award felt heavy in her hands, a tangible symbol of her achievement. Thunderous applause enveloped her, a deafening roar that threatened to consume her. She opened her mouth to speak the speech, but her words were lost in the chaos, barely audible even to herself.

Before she knew it, she was swept away by a tide of well-wishers —friends, classmates, teachers, and even her principal — all beaming with pride, cheering her as the pride of their school. The celebration was a whirlwind, a colorful blur of laughter, tears, and congratulations.

And then, suddenly, she found herself alone, sitting on her bed, surrounded by the quiet of the night. The moon cast an ethereal glow, illuminating her room with an otherworldly light. She breathed in deeply, the stillness a balm to her frazzled nerves and she gazed out the window, a slow smile spread across her face. It had happened. She had won. The realization dawned on her, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

"Mother ! I have achieved what I wanted". She said gazing fondly at the frame of her mother, settling the golden award beside it. Everything is perfect and will be. Right ? Because little did she know, this moment of triumph was only the beginning of a dark and twisted journey.

From that moment on, (Y/N)'s sculpture became a global sensation, drawing thousands of tourists to the university gallery. At first, she was ecstatic, basking in the glory of her creation's viral fame. She had won awards before, yet never had her work resonated with so many people worldwide. With pride, she showcased her masterpiece to art enthusiasts, critics, and curious onlookers. She reveled in their admiration, laughing and joking about being a "deity" who had created such a stunning work. However as time passed, a creeping sense of unease began to shadow her joy.

The whispers started innocently enough of

"How handsome he is!"

"I wish he was real!"

"Oh god, why couldn't I meet such a man?"

"Why the god didn't create such wonderful man ?"

"Hopefully he come to life".

"If I could then I would sacrifice my everything to see this man alive".

"Ah ! Why can't he come alive".

Hoever soon, the comments took on a life of their own, echoing in her mind like a mantra. She began to feel like she was losing control, as if her own creation had taken on a persona of its own. The praise, once music to her ears, now felt like a dark omen. She started to wonder if she had unleashed something sinister into the world. The constant attention, the endless scrutiny, and the obsessive admiration began to suffocate her. The deity joke wasn't funny anymore. It felt like a haunting prophecy.

A desolate realm of darkness she could see along the suffocating void that crushed her beneath its oppressive weight. The air was heavy with the stench of malevolent presence, and she sense of eyes upon her, boring into her very soul. In mist of that a voce came, first the voice was a distant whisper, a faint rustling of dry leaves that seemed to carry on the wind however it grew louder, more urgent, until turning a maddening chant that echoed through her mind. A single, raspy voice, repeating a phrase that seemed to draw closer with each iteration, its words indistinguishable but its sinister intent clear.

The voice was a cold breeze on the back of her neck. (Y/N) tried to flee, but her legs were leaden, her body trapped in a living nightmare. And then, the voice whispered a single, chilling phrase, its tone a masterful blend of malice and seduction "Gojo Sataru."

The name exploded in her mind like a firework of terror, shattering the fragile remnants of her sanity. (Y/N) jolted awake, her eyes wide with horror, her lips frozen in a silent scream. Sweat dripped from her brow like blood from a wound, her heart racing with a fear that threatened to consume her whole. For a moment, she lay there, paralyzed with terror, the darkness of her dream still clinging to her like a shroud. Then, she sat up with a gasp, her eyes scanning the room frantically, as if searching for an escape from the terror that still lingered in her mind, waiting to pounce.

"What is going on ?" (Y/N) ask feeling alike an mad woman slowly descending into madness. In fear she didn't closed her eyes for moment, staring blankly at the ceiling or sometimes sketching a new art mindlessly to distract her disturbed mind.

In no time sun made it's presence known, offering bit of warmth to all and each even to (Y/N) who felt comfort to the golden rays before her ringtone took her attention. Answering the phone she greeted. "Good morning, Geto sensei".

"Good morning, (Y/N)-San, but could you please come to the university gallery ?" Hearing this a frown knitted her brows and she check her wrist watch. 5:00 am.

"So early if I may ask ?"

"Actually". He paused as if unsure what to speak "Please it's urgent". Understanding the hastily tone she agreed, doing a brief wash and clothes change she went to the location asked and oh dear, (Y/N) wasn't expecting the overwhelming amount of crowd standing outside her art gallery. Spotting her teacher she stood nearby.

"Sir, what's going on ?" Her (E/C) eyes dart from the crowd to her teacher.

"Well". Sheepishly the teacher tilted his head. "They came to see your sculpture". Earning a loud grasp from her.

"T-They ? You mean all ?" She stutter.

"All". Geto smiled nervously as if he finding his own words strange.

"So early in the morning and so many ?" Geto nod again.

"What in the world..." (Y/N) tailed off unable to comprehend the situation of what's going on, yes, she admits herself this particular art is special, a living masterpiece basically yet the amount of spotlight seems unnecessary, uncomfortable and— her thoughts went back to the nightmare she woke up— and strange.

"So, (Y/N) please guide the people. I have no choice but to let them in, you know". His smile strained and the girl knew there was not much say she has so she nod wordlessly standing in front of the glass door, a wall between the people and her. The glass door slid open with a soft whoosh, unleashing a torrent of humanity into the gallery. Hundreds of people poured in, their faces alight with excitement, smiles, and eagerness. The air was electric with anticipation, a palpable sense of wonder that was almost tangible.

(Y/N) stood at the forefront, a forced smile plastered on her face as she greeted the throngs of visitors. She waved her hand graciously, guiding them towards her sculpture, the centerpiece of the exhibition. Her eyes darted back and forth, her mind racing with a growing sense of unease and she stood before her creation, a strange, unsettling feeling washed over her. She couldn't bring herself to look at her own creation, her gaze skittering away like a frightened animal. The sculpture, once her pride and joy, now seemed to loom over her, its presence oppressive and menacing.

(Y/N)'s smile faltered, her lips trembling ever so slightly. She felt like a puppeteer whose strings had been cut, her control over the situation slipping away. The crowd's excitement and admiration only added to her growing sense of discomfort, their eagerness to behold her creation now feeling like a suffocating weight. With a Herculean effort, (Y/N) raised her eyes, her gaze finally meeting the sculpture's serene, enigmatic face. Rather of pride, she felt a shiver run down her spine, as if she was staring into the abyss itself despite his face turned to the other side.

"Miss (L/N), with what thought you created this masterpiece ?" A young woman asked within the mist of people.

"Masterpiece ?" (Y/N) mutter under her breath tasting a bitterness. "Well, it came naturally". She replied smiling and staring at the woman's eyes.

"Amazing !" One of them compliment.

"Then Miss (L/N), had you thought the model will be this viral ?" A young man this time asked.

"Never". She answered holding her tremble.

"Then, what motivate you to create such man ? Is he a real man or a part of your imagination ?" Another asked who's face (Y/N) unable to see.

"As the rules of competition. All of the participators had to bring their imagination out into the clay so did I". Calm her voice and confident her (E/C) eyes.

"So Miss (L/N) how long did it take to make you ?"

"Miss (L/N) were you always inspired to make someone of it ?"

"Miss (L/N) are you aware of the name we call you ? The deity ?"

"Miss (L/N), any hint of inspiration in process of making him ?"

One after another the questions jumped from one man to another to another that (Y/N) lips didn't had the time to even open eventually the cacophony of voices and laughter merging into a distant, muffled din. The room began to spin, and she felt herself becoming detached, as if floating above the chaos. The excitement and admiration of the crowd now seemed like a distant hum, a buzzing in her ears that threatened to consume her. With a sense of morbid curiosity, (Y/N) dared to glance at her sculpture, the root of all the chaos. Her heart raced and from the tail of her eyes locking onto its serene, enigmatic face.

And then, she saw it. Or thought she saw it. His eyes, once mere clay and stone, seemed to flicker with life. They moved, ever so slightly, as if connecting with hers. The room froze, time standing still as (Y/N)'s heart sank like a stone.

She felt a chill run down her spine, her mind reeling in horror. It was impossible, yet she swore she saw it. The eyes, once lifeless, now seemed to hold a spark of consciousness, a glimmer of awareness that was not of this world.

(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat, her voice trapped in a silent scream. She stumbled backward, her eyes fixed on the sculpture, her mind racing with the implications. The crowd's din returned, but she didn't hear it. She was lost in the abyss of her own terror, staring into the eyes of her creation, which now seemed to stare back.

"Miss (L/N) ?"

"(Y/N) senpai ?" Snap ! (Y/N) looked at the familiar call of her best friend Yuji running towards her, holding her hand worried. "Are you alright ?" His voice ringed yet her care is about the sculpture, about the man !

Slowly she turn her head, finger point to his face only to blink twice and find the lifeless eyes as it belonged unlike the glimpse of terror she saw.

Confusion.

Betrayed.

Madness.

Alone.

Did no one saw that ? Did even she saw that ? But it's liveless right ? It's a mold of clay, a non-living thing yet why ? How ? What is going on ? (Y/N) mind spin threatening to burst any moment.

"Yuji, I-I am not okay". Her words stutter and she lean on his strength.

"Understood". Yuji sprang into action, bellowing at the crowd to part and make way unlike (Y/N) who couldn't process the commotion, her mind reeling like a maelstrom. She felt her grip on reality begin to slip, her thoughts spiraling into a vortex of doubt and terror. Was she truly seeing things, or was her own sanity unraveling? The world around her became a blur, as if she was trapped in a never-ending nightmare. Yuji's voice grew distant, a fading echo as (Y/N)'s consciousness teetered on the edge of collapse.

"High blood pressure, high stress level and sleep deprivation". Ieiri Shōko said, with a sigh looking at the chat. "It's a dangerous combination, (Y/N)-san that's why rest your body". Before glaring at her teacher Geto. "And you ! who even gave you the permission to be a teacher huh ? If you can't act like one ?" Her raspy voice and judgmental eyes send daggers in his way.

"I am sorry, (Y/N)-San, I didn't know I was creating pressure for you". Guilty written over his face as he ease his frown.

Megumi commented "Well, you as a teacher should know yourself". Right away avert his gaze to not meet his glare.

"It's alright. My fault. I should have voiced out my problem but I really think I need rest". Indeed (Y/N) felt the need to relax after seeing the movement never will she ever recover the horror her heart felt.

Nothingness. No hint of light, nothing at all. A silent void of nullity only suddenly, two glints of light materialized, like sapphires bursting forth from the shadows. The brightest blue she had ever seen, piercing and vivid, locked onto her. Eyes, hidden until now, stared directly into her soul. A whisper, a murmur, a voice she couldn't decipher, grew in intensity, swelling to a deafening crescendo. The words remained elusive, but the urgency was unmistakable. She strained to comprehend, her heart racing, until the sound shattered the darkness, jolting her awake with a silent scream, as if her own soul was being torn from her throat, leaving her gasping in terror, her breaths coming in ragged, desperate gulps, like a dying thing clawing its way back from the abyss.

"What was that ? I never saw those eyes—" She pause recalling the vivid eyes. "I didn't or did I ?" Oddly enough her mind went to her own sculpture. "His eyes, his lifeless eyes". Repeating the thought in her mind, She threw off the covers and got out of bed, her bare feet making barely a sound on the cold floor.

"It can't be". She hoped. "It shouldn't be, it must not be". Like a protection mantra she chanted it sprinting to the exhibition where her once masterpiece to nightmare stand on and she somehow unlock the door and run to stand in front of her model, Gojo Sataru in the darkness she was begin to spiral and to her denial the moon cast an eerie glow through the window, illuminating the sculpture's face. (Y/N) felt a shiver run down her spine as her (E/C) eyes bore into its eyes and saw nothing. No color, no sparkle, just emptiness like it should be. "Ha ! I knew it. It was another my imagination working too much". With a scoff she breath properly ignoring her intitution of feeling not being alone in this room so she walk away quietly yet quickly escaping from the burning empty eyes of the sculptures.

The night wore on, a sleepless vigil, as her fingers held the pencil scratched across the paper, trying to capture the haunting blue eyes that lingered in her mind. The memory of their piercing gaze refused to fade, fueling her creativity as she sketched into the wee hours. Just as the first light of dawn crept in, her friend arrived, bearing the missed class lessons and a gentle smile.

"Here, I am giving you all you need". Nobara pat her head, able to point out dark circles in her friend's eyes.

"Thank you a lot". Gratitude mingled with exhaustion and her hands accepted the offering, placing it in the wooden desk where her eyes caught the shining golden award she forget to keep somewhere else due to the chaos happening.

"By the way (Y/N) I also wanted you to know today your sculpture would be the model for beginner students to learn how to create the perfect body, arms and you know basics". Her hands move with the notion earning a smile over (Y/N)'s lips.

"Understood". She didn't, she didn't understood the meaning behind seeing the same art so many times anymore. Why can't people move on, go, see some other new, fresh and normal art unlike her strange, hauntingly beautiful one. That's when the curiosity to see the art awaken, for unknown reason she desperately wants to see or perhaps it was the promise of safety in numbers she asked to go along with her.

(Y/N) strolled hand in hand with Nobara towards the exhibition, the warm light danced across her skin, a comforting sensation she savored. "Let's go in". Reached the glass door Nobara said touch the doorhandle and about to open breaking the space between them when her (E/C) eyes dare peek through her lashes to the glass exterior and her her serenity, sanity shattered because for a fleeting instant, the hands of the stone seemed to twitch, fingers trembling, arms stiffening, like a macabre puppet springing to life. The horror of her nightmare resurfaced, threatening to consume her. Madness lurked, its dark tendrils creeping closer.

Averting her gaze, she felt her grip on reality falter once again. With shaking hands and a voice barely above a whisper, she stammered "I am sorry...I suddenly feel sick. I need to rest".

Without awaiting Nobara's response, she turned and fled, leaving the girl worried and tense, her eyes wide with concern as she called out however (Y/N) was already gone, vanished into the crowd, pursued by the demons of her own mind.

"This is happening again. It moved right in front of my eyes, in front of Nabora and others too !" Claps her palm to her mouth she tightly close her eyes, sitting on her bed and without a second thought opened the wooden drawer taking few pills of sleeping pills and drank in rapid speed.

"I need a dreamless sleep, I need a dreamless sleep". Repeating she lay on the cold fabric of bed and close her eyes.

Darkness enveloped her sight, a suffocating shroud that obscured all else And then, like specters emerging from the void, a pair of pale hands materialized before her. They glowed with an ethereal light, as if the darkness itself had taken on a life of its own. The hands, unmistakably male, reached out with an unsettling gentleness, his fingers tracing the contours of her body. (Y/N) felt a shiver run down her spine as the hands caressed her, his touch leaving her skin crawling with unease. She tried to recoil yet the palm tightly held her waist in it's root however she tried to move again that's when a low, velvety voice unfolded like a dark flower, its laughter echoing through the shadows like a predator's taunt along the blue eyes snapped open, blazing with an otherworldly intensity. Those cerulean orbs incinerated her defenses, laying bare her soul like a ravaged landscape despite clothes attached to her body.

"How cute you are trying to run away ?" His sinister voice carried like wind coming from behind to front or from nothing to assume.

Slowly his hands caress her visible neck, lacing with curiosity and desire. Tracing the curve of her side to the front from her chin to pausing at the collarbone unleashing a chill that seeped into her bones. Disgust and fear entwined, a toxic embrace that left her paralyzed, her heart a wild animal racing against her ribs and almost as if he could smell the fear those gleaming eyes smile into crescent moon and frosty fingers unbutton her night shirt one by one swelling tears in her eyes.

"No. Please. No. Please". She preyed to each and every god she knew the existence of, hoping to be saved by the creation she created by her own hands. Spared by the humiliation she might face by the monster and—Snap ! Her eyes jolt open to a world that is too bright, too loud. The screeching alarm pierced her eardrums, a forgotten relic of a previous night's routine. As she struggled to sit up, the harsh light overhead stabbed at her eyes, making her squint and shield her face with a groggy hand.

Tear drops silently land on her lap, soaking the fabric with her sorrows she experienced and unconsciously her hand went to her chest making her breath hitched because the two first buttons of her shirt is separated leaving her to wonder the line between her reality and nightmare erasing. "What is happening ? Why is this happening ?" Fingers dug inside her hair to the roots, only helpless questions is jumbled on her mind with unanswered and those question will remain more unanswered when increasingly she unmistakenly gets glimpse of the model and her blood run cold witnessing the torso seemed to twist, ever so slightly, like a snake slithering through grass and that very same night she is laying on her bed, inside her nothing of dream joined by the pair of hands, alive eyes, cold hard torse crawling above her warmth of skin exporling her body as if she belonged to him, violently the privacy (Y/N) wants to keep and when she teetered on the brink of death. The alarm clock screamed, shattering the spell, saving her at the same time lingering the terror.

The next time she didn't gave the chance her eyes could to see her sculpture anywhere from her phone, to her poster, she even avoiding going out frighten by the fact to see him coming alive however fate speaks otherwise accidentally letting her eyes meet the flicker of the monster named Gojo Sataru and finally along his legs twitched, its entire body began to stir, like a creature awakening from a centuries-long slumber. (Y/N) watched in pure horror, her mind reeling, as the once-inanimate object now moved with a sinister purpose. Feeling her own life force ebbing away, as if the sculpture's newfound vitality was draining her very existence and known echoed in her mind "This is the end. I'm staring death in the face."

Desperate to escape the terror from going to sleep, (Y/N) tried to distract herself. Fingers grabbed her sketchbook, but her pencils trembled in her hand, unable to capture the beauty of art amidst such evil however eyes moved to watched entertainment shows only to feel the laughter and music seemed hollow, a cruel mockery of her fear. Even old videos of her parents, once a source of comfort, now seemed distant, unable to shield her from the encroaching darkness waiting to pounch.

No matter what she did, her eyelids grew heavy, threatening to surrender to sleep despite the knowledge that if she succumbed to sleep, the sculpture would claim her. So she fought, hard and limit past her strength. She'd rather die awake, than let the darkness consume her.

Despite her valiant efforts, (Y/N)'s eyelids finally betrayed her, succumbing to the relentless pull of exhaustion and the last thing she saw was her mother smiling face holding her younger self's hand in the video.

This time when she faced the void of nothingness, she has complex layers of emotions piling one after another. Fear of what might bound to happen, confusion of why or how's this situation is even occurring to her so many times, regret of creating a monster she mistakenly did and little calm of at least knowing what's about to come in front yet she wasn't ready to face the tide like all ship captains are no matter how much they nagivate above the ocean, they fear bear fear and the darkness coalesced, swirling around itself like a vortex of ink, deepening into an abyssal void. It churned and eddied, alike creating a pathway for the entity that lurked beyond the shadows. The air seemed to thicken, heavy with anticipation, as the darkness parted like a curtain, revealing a glimpse of what lay beyond. Slowly, the entity began to take form, its presence unfolding, no longer just fragments of limbs or eyes, but its entire self, a being of unutterable horror, emerged from the shadows. The darkness swirled around it, a mad dance of tendrils, as if worshiping the monstrosity that now stood before (Y/N).

Gojo Saturu, her sculpture moving in flesh and form of an living human. A vision of devastating beauty that the viewers oh so desired. His lips in a perpetual smirk while his sapphire eyes look straight into his creator's soul.

"Hello, my creator". He mockingly greet, voice smooth flowing to (Y/N)'s ears. "Nice to meet ya". He giggle at the end as his own comment was funny. "I was oh so waiting to meet. Took so long". His long legs march forward to (Y/N) who is frozen, breathing hard to have her creation talk to her.

His face lean forward inching almost few inches apart to where her (E/C) could see his unblemished and smooth skin like she curved out of her fingers, well she bestowed him everything but flaw, a mistake on her part and a power to his. Deliberately his slender pale finger tips touch her cheek—her imperfect skin. She fully embraced to shiver by his coldness yet it was oddly warm causing her eyes wide filling questions in them.

He wordlessly smiled further, cupping her entire face on his both palm like one would to their deity. Thumps ever so slightly stroke her skin. "You must be dying to know the truth ? How I created ? Breath to live ?" His eyes flicker to hers. She choose to not say.

"Well, it's cause you, all because of you and those humans. Their hopes, admiration, wishes and your believe of me springing to live manifest into a unseen force, a force of blending your believes turning and fueling my life from mere stones. The moment you believed my eyes moved, my eyes spring into live, you believed my hands twitch it gave me life and slowly little by little you were all along bringing me life. My creator, my love. My eve of life". Stretching his lips ear to ear he close their distance, enveloping her lips.

Astonishing her and letting her limbs finally protest against the unwanted touch yet his hands larger, faster, stronger that held her both wrist in one palm, focusing solely on devouring her lips and wrapping tongue above one another, swirling like the taste of saliva and sucking breath out of her leaving her utterly surrender and vulnerable. (Y/N) suffocated by the soul draining kiss she kicked his any part only for him to remain unyielding and finally when he deem to be satisfied he seprated their lips with a glistening string of saliva linked and heavy breathing followed.

"Is this how it feels to need air ?" A husky laugh bubble out of his throat. "Then it's addicting". The sly smile stayed as he branded her skin with tender kisses, tracing a path of desire. The soft curve of her cheek, the tantalizing corner of her lips, the delicate slope of her chin, the whisper-soft lids of her eyes, and the gentle expanse of her forehead like marking her his.

"Stop. Stop all of this madness. Why are you doing this ? If you want to kill me then kill me already why torture me ?" Desperate her breath brush aganist his skin, fearful written on her eyes.

"Aww, there is a misunderstanding between us love, a grave one". He dramatically chuckle. "Why would I want to kill my own creator when you are the reason I even form an shape ? And torture ? Is this torture when I am soaking you in love. This is my passion for you. My burning desire for you". Yearning his brightest shade of eyes hold and rather of feeling moved all she felt was forced.

"But I do not want". Tears prickly down her eyes, watering her vision. "I really do not want this". She threw her head back, moving as her physical self can.

"It's okay. You do love me because if you don't then you wouldn't have created me so love me. Like you are suppose to. Bear the consequences of your actions, darling". Shushing her lips with his finger, he gently kiss the vulnerable curve of her neck and descend in downwards ignoring all of her pleads, protest and fight. Eventually his lips brush against her collarbone and ever so gently he suck the skin purple and red moving to the valley of her chest.

His free hand cup the breast through her dress ignited an fire and blood rush to his pants. Tearing her shirt scattering her buttons he came to face with her lovely bra, the only shield protecting against being bare yet he with ease snatch that away. Laying her upper body to feast by those eyes.

"Hmm" A groan slip past his lips from merely stare at those breast and the outline of her body with the way her blush expression, tears streaming, hands tied by his palm, hair spread beneath her was a divine sight than himself. Oh how he recall watching her from his stone form and yearn to touch those skin which he is now relishing.

Shamelessly his large palm cup her breast earning a sweet whimper and dive to taste if it's sweet as her lips and he was beyond ecstatic, twisting the bud as he please and sucking whole even biting with his canines enjoying the melody of her sobbing and her warmth skin. Before jumping to the another untouched one claiming his like it belonged and butterflies kisses on the entire breasts.

To lacing his tongue on her center of skin, tailing down and stopping at her stomach pecking each imperfect and perfect spots covering her whole. How couldn't he ? If he was served with a human like her, (Y/N) who is in his eyes the prettiest girl to even laid eyes on.

While she is on other end of hell, despising the kisses like an lava drops, burning with a fiery hatred that left her scarred. Every touch was a toxic assault, poisoning her senses and corroding her soul. His lips were venomous serpents, injecting deadly venom into her veins with each caress. His hands are acid, dripping with malice as they crawled across her skin. She couldn't and didn't felt a loving sense from him let alone love he was confessing about. Nightmare his life is.

And he knew about. Knew perfectly of her hatred, pain and still choose to love her because she does love him. She just doesn't know herself or he will make her. That's why he is mastering the very skill to pleasure her in ways a woman could be by ripping her only thread of cloth wrapped around her hip and fully nude her.

Viewing her lay bare, all nude couldn't conceal the heart crafting on Gojo's eyes and the madness smile heating his pale skin. Swiftly he dug his head in between of her legs, inside the clit his cum will enter. Well, for later because now his mouth was engulfed inside, tongue forcefully rip inside to taste the creamy fluids his love made of making her grasp and thrash around more harder than she could.

Even squirming underneath him only to prove fruitless while he continue to taste her juices, eating as if it's a delicacy itself, swallowing down and circling his tongue inside her tight walls, loving every bit of it however his patience comes to end making him pull out his flesh with dripping saliva and ran his fingers past his hair.

"P-Please. Please spare me. Please..." Her voices somewhere blended with her sobbed sorrows and her grasp when he impatiently without preparation unbuckle his restrictions, pulling out his shaft and pierce straight inside her walls.

Arching her back and cry out a scream she felt utter hopeless and pain coursing through her limbs. "It hurts ! I-it hurts". Dragging her air she wail. "It hurts please Gojo. It hurts". pricked at his name Gojo shush her more, whispering sweet nothings like an lover not a rapist he is and claim her lips once more. Even stealing her right to speak.

Heartlessly he slam his throbbing shaft again and again, groaning within the kiss and savouring the feeling. "Ah ! Is this what feels to have sex ? Because if it is then I would do it again and again". Tilting his head, Gojo separated his lips and eventually his hips came to stuttering as he cum inside without a care of world unlike (Y/N) who's heart rattled under her ribcage.

"No ! No ! No ! No ! No ! You monster ! What did you do ?" In disbelief she kicked her tireless legs and dug her nails on his soft skin. Anger filling her mind. "I can be pregnant !" She cried out.

"Really ?" Honestly he asked, laughing. "Then I should do it properly". With that the horrors repeated with his hips penetrate her clit deeper.

Her lips parted echoing her scream along her eyes snap open. Her body jolt up from her bed and gasping for air as if she'd been underwater for too long. Her chest heaved, and her eyes frantically scanned the familiar surroundings of her room. Her clothes clung to her damp skin, a testament to the terror she had endured. "Wai—I am wearing my clothes. Does that mean ?" As reality set in, a wave of relief washed over her—it was just a nightmare, a twisted episode of her own madness, nothing more. Smiling to herself she craved the comfort of her friends so with a sense of urgency, she rushed to their room, catching a glimpse of them at the exhibition hall. She burst in, smiling wider and navigated through the crowd. Her eyes locked onto Nabora, and she grasped her best friend's hand like a lifeline.

"Good morning (Y/N)". Cheerfully she greeted.

"Good morning to you too". She breathed. "I had a nightmare". Her voice confessed. "Believe me or not the worst one".

"What do you mean". Concern fill the girl's face and (Y/N)'s lips about to elaborate when a pair of hands— disgustingly familiar and unsettling— wrapped around her shoulders from behind. A low, husky voice whispered in her ear.

"A nightmare huh ?" Gojo's words dripped with an unsettling intimacy, his tone implying secrets shared and terrors unspoken washing cold bucket of water over her head.

How ?

What ?

Impossible ?

"Right ! Gojo senpai, help your girlfriend ! She is in need of your help". Nobara spoke in an familiar tone to which he replied "of course".

"B-Boyfriend ?" Her words stutter.

"Oh ! Sorry not boyfriend. Fiancé !" She facepalmed herself laughing. Alone. Not with (Y/N) who's questions and terrors trapped in the vice of his embrace.

Leaning closely Gojo tucked her shirt a little making her aware of the intimacy marks she was blind to miss and whispered the bitter truth. "I have become the god of the chisel".

FIN

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starcrossed-lov3rz · 3 months

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The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 6

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, mentions of smut, slight d/s vibes, Brat!Reader, Jealous!Daemon (all of this is near the end)

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra, Daemon and Rhaenyra being good parents.

Words: 1.5K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

“Mom, I love you,” Jace begins slowly, “but I think mother and father might be right.”

You sigh heavily, stroking Joffrey’s hair as he snuggles closer into you. The boys, Daemon, and you were all sitting around a fire, eating the supper Daemon had thoughtfully packed. Joffrey had crawled into your lap and fallen asleep within minutes of sitting. Your heart had nearly melted at the sight, tearing up at how full your heart felt. It didn’t matter how much you missed your past life, you had something here that you never had there–family.

“Thank you,” Daemon groans. “Rhaenyra and I have the best maester’s from across Westeros coming in weekly, but to no end.”

“Jace, I understand this is hard to fathom,” you say, “but I really do remember a whole other life.”

“Does that mean you don’t want us anymore?” Luke asks softly.

Passing Joffrey to Daemon, you get up and sit between Luke and Jace. “There is nothing that could make me not want you, sweet boy.” You pull them both in for a hug. “I’m so sorry for not remembering you, but I want nothing more than to make new memories.”

“This is…hard for us,” Jace whispered, his voice cracking. You smooth down his hair, waiting for him to finish. “But it is hard for you too. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

You hug them both tighter, looking up to see Daemon smiling at the sight of you three. “Now, all I want is for my boys to come home from these ridiculous diplomacy missions,” you say. “We’ve been apart for too long, and I never want to miss another name day again.”

“We will return at once, but we must made one last trip.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, “what do you mean?”

Jace pulls back, grinning. “Luke and I will fly to Driftmark and bring Baela and Rhaena to meet you.”

“What about Joffrey?”

Both you and Jace look at the youngest, asleep in Daemon’s arms and clutching his sleeves in a death grip. “He’s young,” Jace whispers. “These past few months have been the hardest for him.”

“We will take him back with us,” you agree. “Nyra will be so happy to see him.”

“I hate to ask you to leave so soon,” Daemon interrupted, “but I do not want my boys flying too late into the night. If you wish to make it to Driftmark at a reasonable hour, you must leave soon.”

Jace nodded, reluctantly pulling away from you to put out the fire and pack up. Luke gave you one last bone-crushing hug before mounting his dragon and taking flight. You wave goodbye, watching as they both disappear on the horizon. Daemon throws an arm around your shoulder, and you lean your head against him.

“It’s so hard to see them go,” you murmur. “It feels like i just got them back, and now I’m losing them.”

“They will return as soon as the girls can pack a bag,” Daemon assured. “I am relieved they took your news as well as they did.”

You hum in agreement, kissing Daemon’s shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

Daemon calls Caraxes, waiting for you to climb up the saddle before he scales up. You can’t help but watch in awe as Daemon easily climbs up one-handed, Joffrey clutched to his chest with the other. Daemon passes Joffrey to you, and you secure him in the saddle, directly in front of you.

“Shit, Jace must have forgotten to leave Joffrey’s cloak for us.”

The words barely leave your mouth before Daemon unpins his cloak and tosses it to cover Joffrey. “Make sure he stays warm. He won’t sleep if there’s a chill.”

“Have I ever told you how attractive you are as a father?”

Daemon chuckles, kissing you on the cheek before he whistles for Caraxes to take off. “Recently? No. But please keep telling me.” You laugh as you pull the cloak up to cover Joffrey’s head.

The steady motion of flight and the excitement of the day wear on you quickly. Your head jerks as you find yourself nodding off. “I have you, my love.” Daemon murmurs as he pulls you tighter against him. “Caraxes and I will not let you fall.”

You nod, leaning back into his warm and giving into sleep.

Daemon’s call for Caraxes to land wakes you. You blink the sleep from your eyes, pulling Joffrey closer to keep him steady as Caraxes dives down to land. Rhaenyra is waiting for you at the dragon keep, she kisses your cheek in greeting before lifting Joffrey from your arms. “Wake up, sweet boy,” you tease. “Look who came to say hello.”

Joffrey grumbles, stretching his arms wide before looking to see who held him. “Mother!” He wraps his arms around Rhaenyra and she kisses his head.

“That’s right,” she says, “and I want to hear all about your adventures with Jace and Luke.” Rhaenyra sniffs him, nose scrunching. “But first, we are getting you bathed and fed. You stink like dragon, little love.”

Daemon comes up, finished telling the dragon keepers what to feed Caraxes as a reward for his flight. “My queen,” he dips his head to Rhaenyra. She rolls her eyes and pulls him in for a hug.

“You both go bathe, that’s an order.” Nyra laughs. “After Joffrey is fed and bathed, I will put him to bed and join you both.”

“Are you saying we ‘stink like dragon’, my love?” you tease.

“You certainly do not stink like roses,” Nyra kisses you before turning to leave with Joffrey.

Both you and Daemon wander back to your shared chambers and are greeted by a steaming bath. Rhaenyra must have called the maids to draw it when she saw Caraxes on the horizon. “Gods,” you moan as you slide in. “Remind me to thank Nyra when she gets back.”

Daemon slides behind you, lathering a cloth before he begins scrubbing your back. You wince as his motions move lower down you back. “Are you alright?” he asks, halting his movements.

“Yes, I’m just sore from riding a dragon all day,” you whine.

“Poor girl,” he purrs. “I was going to offer to let you ride another dragon, but if you’re too so-”

You snort as his innuendo. “Lykirī, Daemon.” [calm]

Daemon lifts you quickly, turning you to face him. His eyes are wide with shock. “Did you just speak-”

A blush spreads across your cheeks. “I may have threatened the maester’s into teaching me. I wanted to surprise you, but if it’s weird I can sto-”

“If you want to finish your bath, I suggest you do it in silence.” Daemon’s eyes darken. “My self control is hanging by a thread, issa jorrāelagon.” [my love]

A wicked grin falls across your face and you raise up to your knees, straddling Daemon’s thigh. “And if I want that thread to break? What then issa zaldrīzes?” [my dragon] You grind your hips down, but Daemon’s hands rest at your hips and stop your movements.

“No,” he growls. “You are going to finish bathing. You are going to kneel on the bed, and you are going to wait patiently for your queen to return.”

You whine, trying to escape his grip and get some friction. “That’s not fair, you started this.”

Daemon pulls you closer, sliding a hand to grip your hair and pull it so that your back is arched into him. Your eyes flutter and you moan at the action. “Once Rhaenyra returns, we will decide what to do with you.” He leans down to nip at your exposed throat.

“What do you mean?” you say, moaning as Daemon licks and sucks at the bites he’s left. Your pulse races in anticipation. He kisses up your neck to claim your lips in a deep kiss, before leaning into your ear.

“Our naughty girl should be punished for keeping secrets. Don’t you think so, issa jorrāelagon?” [my love]

NOTE: Sorry to cut it off here, but trust me when I say the next chapter is in the works and it is going to be so long and so fucking filthy. I wanted to get this out earlier, but there was a project at work that needed done last night. Thank you all for being so patient and so supportive! “Lacie, why does half of your plot take place in a bath?” Because fuck it, we ball! Also, there are some ppl who I can’t tag, so if you’re listed and the tag list and not receiving notifications, please check that your settings are on “allow this blog to appear in search results” or message me if I messed up the spelling! ~ Lacie <3

Taglist: @syraxnyra , @avalyaaa , @angeliccss , @clocksonthewall79 , @sia2raw , @forma-lina , @lorarri , @imoonkiss , @ba6ysworld , @abaker74 , @aniisbavk1, @different-tale-student , @cruelladevil4, @ronswhoree, @Lbl252003, @18dmlk, @beca2468 , @hnm-mika , @brocomegetyobitch, @pendejalian , @xoxoluvs-world, @lexasaurs634 , @jaydemon99 , @lovelyy-moonlight

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#house of the dragon #house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd #hotd fic #hotd fanfic #hotd season 2 #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon x y/n #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon x rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra x y/n #queen rhaenyra

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babybatss-blog · 2 months

Text

SMITTEN

Sirius x reader, 600 word

Authors notes: anyone else in end of year exam period? Screaming crying throwing up D:< anyways here is a fic inspired by that.

Summary: you have some assignments that NEED to be finished, but it seems Sirius has other plans.

Cw: modern au (still at Hogwarts but they have phones and social media), kissing, making out, swapping saliva, sirius feels up reader. Horny but not smut. One swear word.

School projects. The bane of any self-respecting persons existence, forcing you to sit at your desk learning about some brain numbing, boring subject for hours on end, only to get judged by a teacher on some ridiculous and arbitrary scale. Well, at least that’s what Sirius thinks. So he avoids them wherever possible, usually preferring a painstakingly long detention session instead.

But unlike Sirius, you actually attempt these arduous tasks and want to do (somewhat) well at them. So here you are, on a random Tuesday night writing an essay on the benefits of honking daffodils, trying desperately not to fall asleep amidst your exhaustion. You’re at your desk, the room barren of any life as everyone is out in the common room except Sirius, who has refused to leave your side and is now laying lazily on your bed. He’s stubborn, you can give him that.

The words on the page drift away, faltering in your consciousness as the resilient noise of Sirius’ phone overpowers you. He’s watching some dumb video on motorbikes, the revving of the obnoxious engine somehow echoing across the walls of your skull. “Siri?” You mumble, eyes not leaving the page below you.

“Yes my love” he chirps, a smile growing on his face. Despite your apparent interest in your schoolwork, Sirius cannot help but wish he could possibly waver your attention. “Could you please turn that down?”

Well, that wasn’t what he hoped for. But anyways, he reluctantly agrees and turns it down a tad. You continue scribbling away, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. A momentary loss, but Sirius knows not to give up that easily. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Sirius sprawled on your pillow, his raven hair shimmering in the dim light and his eyelashes fluttering softly through tired eyes. Merlin, he looks so pretty like that. You’d be naïve to not admit how totally smitten you are with him, easily getting lost in his gaze for hours on end. His voice, his smile, just everything about him is unavoidably distracting to you, bringing out a side of you never before seen or unveiled.

And now he’s committed the same crime all over again, as you’ve been sitting here for a full three minutes thinking about how hopelessly in love with him you are. You groan at this frustrating realisation, throwing your head back in exasperation. He turns his head towards you at the noise, selfishly hoping its one of surrender. “Everything alright darling?” He asks, mock worry on his tongue. Without a word, you stand up, sliding your feet over to him and falling on top of him like a log. Your lips intertwine in a lazy yet passionate display, saliva falling by gravity into his mouth without a care in the world about where this may lead. But you both know where this may go, his hands cupping your ass firm yet safe as his fails to conceal a smile under your touch.

“What happened to school?” He mumbles, the rumble of his throat against yours causing a sharp shiver down your spine. “Fuck school” you retort, now fully straddling his strong groin in an act of defiance. Something tells you the essay will have to wait.

#sirius black x reader #marauders #hp marauders #marauders x reader #sirius orion black #sirius black #the marauders #sirius black fluff #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader smut #babybatss blog

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parasolyaa · 1 month

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Mischa Bachinski is a completely wrong spelling of his name. Misha Bachynskyi is the correct form.

To put it simple, it just doesn’t make sense in Ukrainian language at all. Instead of the soft “sh” (ш) that is supposed to be in the name Misha (Міша), for some reason there is “sch” (щ), which not only is less appealing to the ear, but also the name Mischa (Міща) does not exist. Could it have been just made up on purpose? Theoretically yes, but I feel icky about foreigners making up a name that sounds so ridiculous and has no background whatsoever. Besides, it is pretty obvious that they were going for the name Міша, but messed up the transcript. The surname ending -ski is an outdated Russian-sounding version, -skyi is a much more accurate one for a Ukrainian surname. The Ukrainian letter "и" never translates as "i", only as "y".

Talias name was completely butchered too, more here (there's actually a wholeass rabbithole from there on). The name of the city where she comes from is spelled wrong (it's supposed to be Kyiv, not Kiev), and so is Misha's (it's Odesa, not Odessa), also it’s Chornobyl, not Chernobyl. Characters frequently say "the Ukraine", even though the name of the country is supposed to be said without the adjective. Basically, not a single Ukrainian name was spelled correctly, and many things about Ukraine also were completely messed up.

And these are not just wrong spellings! These are the remnants of Russian oppression, specifically in Soviet times, when all non-Russian names had to be transcripted from Russian, all non-Russian languages were stripped of their originality, forcefully made to sound more Russian, and advocating for the use of your language could get you deported or killed (and now the same thing is happening the occupied territories of Ukraine, Sakartvelo, Chechnya etc.). Using the correct version of Ukrainian names is at least a sign of respect and recognition.

I am not saying that back in 2008 when the musical was made the authors deliberately decided on using the Russian forms of city names and, well, people names. Back at the time the voices of people advocating for correct forms were not heard, and this didn’t seem like a big deal. But in the context of the modern world it is very important, specifically because there is a literal full-scale genocidal war in Ukraine right now. As a Ukrainian, the nuance of those names and spelling matters a lot to me, and it is the same way for other Ukrainian fans I’ve met. Some didn’t want to get into the musical specifically because of these issues, plus the fact that Misha is kind of a harmful stereotype for Slavic people in general, which is yet another topic to explore at some point in the future. And he is still the BEST representation we’ve got and I love him dearly.

I believe that using a correct form of his name is a battle worth fighting

#i used uppercase for the post that’s how you know shit's serious #misha bachynskyi #misha not mischa #mischa bachinski #misha rtc #ride the cyclone #rtc

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pianokantzart · 1 month

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One of my favorite things about The Mario Movie is the way it introduces the characters, specifically the way it introduces Bowser and The Mario Bros back to back.

The film starts with Bowser's assault on The Snow Kingdom. His warship dwarfs the entire city, its sheer scale bubbling over and melting the landscape in its wake.

All Bowser needs to do is glance at Kamek in order to subjugate an entire army in seconds, and his fire breath just as quickly decimates the facade of a towering city.

Everyone rightly fears him. Those that don't quickly learn to. The amount of power and resources at his fingertips is borderline ridiculous.

The first words out of his mouth are threats, and they are threats he is easily able– if not excited– to follow through on.

He ends the scene victorious and with even more power than he had before.

Then we cut to a commercial filmed on cheap green screen to the soundtrack of a goofy rap song, advertising two blue collar guys who are just hoping to get paid to fix people's pipes, and the first words out of their mouths outside of the advertisement is them gushing about how proud they are of each other for their little, low-budget crumb of success.

Oh, Honey, you've got a big storm comin.'

#It's that ''everyman against impossible odds'' vibe but like you don't understand they are ACTUALLY everymen they're PLUMBERS #meanwhile their soon-to-be archnemesis is driving around a warship volcano the size of a city with a loyal army at his beck and call #something about that vibe gets me good #and the fact they pull through with the power of brotherly love gets me doubly good #makes me insane in fact #mario movie #Mario #Luigi #Super Mario Bros #super mario brothers

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captainuranium543 · 7 days

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Ft headcanons nobody wanted part 2

-natsu will occasionally get genuinely jealous over his friends owning appliances for heating. Why should they need those things when they have him, if they just call him over her do a way better job then any of those stupid gadgets. He finds out gray owns a hair dryer and immediately becomes a jealous ex girlfriend. He confronts Lucy in her apartment one night acting so serious he she doesn't even get mad that he broke in, then just goes "care to explain this?" And puts a lighter on the table.

- Wendy is very very quiet. Creepily so. Not elaborating but I think you can imagine the kinds of situations this leads to.

- Mira's eyes glow in the dark and it creeps everyone the fuck out

- erza has the worst hoarding problem. Her dorm room is entirely piled floor to ceiling with boxes of meticulously organized random items she refuses to throw out for some reason

young Mira: "alright this is ridiculous why do you even have this"

Young erza: "say what you want but when you need 746 packets of Mcnolias sweet and sour sauce and find your supply baron I'll be laughing"

- levy is one of the few members of the guild who actively sought it out to join. Before fairy tail she was an orphan and a student studying magic. She left to join fairy tail to learn more about magic in general from real world experience.

- laki will sometimes build creepily realistic wooden statues of her guild mates and leave them around in inconspicuous places so when you find them they scare the shit out of you. Sometimes she hides them too well and it takes years to discover them.

- Lucy has actually written several unpublished novels and the only other person who's ever seen them is levy. Lucy thinks their crap but levy carefully annotates every single one.

- laxus used to occasionally be forced to go on jobs with erza and Mira when they were young both to help and to make sure they didn't kill each other and he hated it.

- I think I might have said this before but I firmly believe levy, Lucy, freed and jellal later on all form a book club because they love reading, the problem is they all have vastly different tastes in book so they can never decide what to read each week and usually just end up playing Scrabble and talking shit about their various teammates

"please guys trust me this one's good"

"I am NOT reading Colleen Hoover Lucy and that's final"

- this one's based on city hero but I personally believe erza and Erik find a shocking common ground over motorcycles. Erza likes vehicles in general and Erik took up bike racing as a hobby, since discovering this is the longest they've been able to be in the same room together without someone throwing a punch.

- Wendy visits lamia scale regularly still to hang out with chelia. she usually brings romeo and they all go out to do whatever dumb kid stuff they want. (Tbh I just like her having friends her own age)

-lucy sometimes randomly lets her rich girl's heritage show in random conversation and it's always jarring. You'll be having a normal chill convo with her and then she'll look you dead in the eyes and ask you what colour your personal carriage was growing up.

- Natsu is genuinely a really good cook he just has a terrible taste so nobody wants to eat his food. For reference he only ever cooks his food because he enjoys doing it to him it tastes fine either way.

- if you had asked the fairy tail guild who the scariest guild member was in early season 1 the answers would have been erza, guildarts, laxus etc all the usual suspects. Once season 2 starts however the answer is unanimous. It's juvia. Juvia is fucking terrifying when she gets mad. You don't realize how scary water can be until it's filling your lungs and as your vision blurs until all you can see is her merciless stare.

- Mira and freed can drink blood for demon reasons. gray can too after getting devil slayer but he thinks its gross. Surprisingly so can gajeel because of the high iron content.

- gray the type of guy who's bed has only the smallest thinnest blanket on his bed and usually it's on the ground cuz he gets too hot

- meanwhile erza is the type of girl to have so many pillows, blankets and plushies on her bed you wonder how she fucking sleeps in it. Mf has a NEST.

- Lucy isn't even surprised anymore when she finds people in her house, she doesn't know how they keep getting in and honestly she doesn't care anymore she's to tired to deal with it.

- freed plays a lot of really fucking weird instruments. Idk it just seems like something he would do.

- bixlow can speak most languages and it's always really surprising when he randomly says smth like "oh yea I can speak ancient nirvid no prob" like that's totally normal

- if laxus and freed ever did get together (in my heart it's cannon) evergreen and bixlow would be their biggest haters. Yea they love them and they're happy for them but also EW. GROSS. GET A ROOM.

#fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #gray fullbuster #mirajane strauss #laxus dreyar #jellal fernandes #levy mcgarden #gajeel redfox #erza scarlet #wendy marvell #freed justine #erik/cobra #laki olietta #headcannons

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ceesimz · 4 months

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Leave Before The Lights Come On

Title is a Arctic Monkeys song! This trope has been done more times than I've blinked my whole life but this is my version, enjoy :) (ps it's not long but it's a lil bit spicy and slightly ridiculous)

Award shows, charity events, dinners with red carpets. It's how things started months ago, and it's still how the story goes now.

Everyone knew what private but not secret meant nowadays, it seemed to be the go-to for basically all couples. Yet, very few understood the thrill of private and secret.

Every night spent at these things was a new performance for you both, dancing around each other with fleeting glances and lingering, teasing touches. A chance to start fresh over and over, something most couples never endeavour in anymore, but it's so addicting. A game of cat and mouse that always ends in the same way, and despite that fact, it's still intoxicating all the same.

"One beer please."

"Just a beer'll do."

You know who is next to you, there's no use guessing. It always starts like this. And when she slithers closer, elbows rested on the bar that she's slumped over compared to you standing with perfect posture and hands clasped around your own arms that crossed over your chest, the cuff links of her suit sleeves glimmer in your eye line. Her hands purposely move to fiddle with them, knowing your attention is on her hands and the rings that are scattered across her fingers. She knows you too well, knows your eyes unintentionally fall to that part of her whenever they're on display, and it causes the first simmer of something to bubble in your abdomen.

At once, the bartender places the beer bottles down in front of you both, each reaching out to grab it and turning to the other. With eyes holding the other's gaze, you and Leah take a swig of your drinks, a silent agreement that the night has begun.

To your dismay though, the scales have already tipped in Leah's favour as she gets the first laugh. She takes another sip of her beer, first moving her eyes from your face to the way your hands make the bottle look bigger than it is as you hold it with both, rather than Leah who holds it with just one. Then, she trails her eyes downwards and up again, smirking smugly at you before walking away, not without a brush against your shoulder.

You shake your head just as the host announces the event will begin in ten minutes and advises everyone to find their seats. Working with one of the most well-known magazines got you great seats surrounded by good people to network with, and though if your manager found out she'd probably retract all future invites, you couldn't care less about networking. Not when you were stuck in the most mind-numbing game of back and forth, push and pull, take and give. You could be seated beside some random Tom, Dick or Harry from a no-name town in England, or you could be sat beside someone like Serena Williams, and it'd make no difference.

Leah Williamson, your new girlfriend and possibly the most frustrating yet attractive person you'd seen, was in the room. That was enough incentive for all thoughts to fly far from your mind.

The last event you went to was probably the most notable for your relationship. It should have been a pretty important one for you to pay attention to, considering it was hosted by GQ, but how could you when a certain blonde in a scantily clad dress was begging to be your girlfriend all night? She had asked in just about every way possible, and you would have said yes from the first instance if it weren't for her attention being pulled away before you could get a word in.

From whispering it in your ear as she slipped past you during a conversation with some of GQ's most important employees, to handing you a serviette with words written on that still send shivers down your spine when you think back to them, and even meeting your eyes from across the room in your respective seats and mouthing the question 'Mine yet?' with an upward quirk of her eyebrows. If you thought that part of the night was memorable, you didn't want to talk about the visceral reaction you got thinking back to the after events that occurred in the comfort of your hotel room.

But now, here in the present, you found your seat at a table with shareholders and employees and celebrities scattered around it, distinctively uninterested in every single one of them. They try to strike up conversation and you let them, your workaholic autopilot kicking in to entertain their interest for some time. These things are always boring, that's what makes them the perfect environment for this kind of thing. Sure, some were more fun than others and both yourself and Leah had found them enjoyable in the past, but there was an added element to them now that you were quite sure you could never give up.

The host drags on far longer than needed and to you it seems they're rather self-indulgent, revelling in the fact they've got the attention of the room. They talk as if everyone is hanging on the edge of their seats, grasping onto every word they said, when in reality it couldn't be further from the truth. Or at least in your case anyway. Apparently your boredom showed a little too much, because the person beside you asked if you're alright at a lull in the first speech of the evening. You reassure them you are fine, just in need of a drink since your beer had already gone down by now, and with a thanks from yourself they turn back away from you.

Your eyes search the room then, giving in to the temptation of her, only to find blue eyes staring right back at you from a few tables over. Her hair is slicked back into a low bun and she has one too many buttons of her white shirt undone - she's hot and she knows it. You still can't figure out if that's annoying or, unfortunately, attractive. The aura that exudes off of her hits you even from across the room, a combination of confidence and a smugness that gets under your skin in the best way.

It's at this moment that a short intermission is announced, allowing for people to go to the bathroom or fetch a drink and some snacks, or whatever they care to do. All you know is that there's a certain person in the room you've got to see and you need a new beverage, so you head to the bar.

Except, you're stopped in your tracks along the way. A body blocks you from going any further as she side-steps in front of you and shoves a champagne flute into your hand. In her hand is a sweet Manhattan cocktail, one with a cherry in it that immediately catches your eye. This is your chance to equal the score.

Maintaining eye contact with her, you delicately take the cherry and, with the most innocent look you could muster from under your eyelashes, you bite it from the stem. Those same piercing blue eyes track every movement of yours, from the moment you snatched it from her drink to the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed. In the low light, you manage to make out the sight of her pupils tripling in size, and just like that, the cards are in your favour again.

Before Leah can react, you're sauntering away without a word having been exchanged, and you can feel her staring incessantly at you as you drop back into the ocean of people in the room. She curses under her breath, downs her drink, and heads back to the bar.

After that interaction, you actually did fall into an invigorating conversation with the people on your table. You discredited them, in the midst of your tunnel vision you didn't realise who it was you were sat with. Turns out, they're some fascinating people who you could really do with speaking to again soon.

It's as you're talking to one of them, offering to go collect a tray of drinks for the table, that someone leans over you and refills your glass with more champagne. Initially, you guess it's just one of the event workers, but then those damned Arsenal earrings jump into view and your senses are overcome with her perfume. If she asked why there were goosebumps on your arms, you'd shrug and blame it on the chill of the hall. But, your question is, where the fuck did she get a whole bottle of champagne from?

She leaves as quickly as she arrived, leaving only a trace of her signature scent in her wind. You jut your tongue into your cheek momentarily - that was a bold move by the defender. It obviously caught the attention of the people on your table who were feeling as if they may have interrupted perhaps a private moment, but you wave them off and swiftly switch topics.

To their rather inquisitive annoyance, they demand you go get the drinks you'd offered to get since you weren't going to tell them about... whatever had just happened. So you do, you take your champagne flute with you and wander over to the bar with a focused look on your face, waiting for the right time to strike and get your payback.

That happens sooner than you could have guessed, and it forces a smirk upon your face as you approach your prey that's trapped in a seemingly boring conversation, judging by the unimpressed look on her face. She doesn't see you coming, her arms are crossed over her chest and her mouth is down-turned into a frown, another beer bottle in her hand. You see her sigh as you get closer, her head on a swivel but looking in entirely the wrong direction.

The set up is perfect, perfect for you to be able to walk past her straight to the bar with a little taunting. However, you're feeling bolder now, urged on by the alcohol in your system. Instead of a simple brush along her body, your free hand drops down to slide under her blazer and sleaze dangerously low across her toned back. It's a lingering touch, you don't pull your hand away until the very last second. You don't have to look back at her to know she's watching you go.

To both your individual irritation, the next hour or so of the night doesn't allow for anymore sly digs and heated encounters. It's so unbelievably dull, just ramble after ramble of people bragging and kissing each other's ass as they speak. It gets to around forty-five minutes of this bullshit before a spiteful plan forms in your head.

A few of the people on your table had switched seats, ensuring they get the most out of the night. You didn't care for it all, zoning out countless times so far, but when the guy beside you turns to you with a blissfully oblivious smile on his face, you know what you have to do.

The next however long, you converse with this guy more and indulge him in pointless topics that really are so fucking stale and tedious, but you have to play the long game here. And before you'd even done anything half as interesting yet, there's already daggers being forced into the side of your face.

It all comes to a head when you laugh and swat his shoulder in an exaggerated manner, giggling like a school girl at... honestly, you couldn't even remember. But he lavished in your amusement, shuffling his chair ever so slightly closer and throwing an arm around the back of your chair. He brushes his hair back with his other hand, exposing his less than favourable hairline, and really you have to hold back a gag at the fact you're doing this.

At that point, you decide you have to get away from him and his dreary, lifeless, and nonexistent charisma. So you throw one last look at Leah's direction, stifling a grin at her flared nostrils and completely unimpressed demeanour, before excusing yourself from your conversation and sliding out from your seat. Whether Leah had the guts to follow you or not, you weren't sure, but you were just glad you were away from that guy.

Unbeknownst to you, Leah had suddenly gotten up from her chair the second she saw you rise, and she was marching through the room to pace after you. The game was entirely forgotten for her at this point, the image of you with him tattooed on her eyelids. Immaturely, she had to stop herself from spitting at him as she walked past, settling for a warning glare instead.

You have all of two seconds to yourself in the bathroom, checking yourself out in the mirror, before the door slams against the wall with a resounding thud. A gloating smirk is on your face from the moment she walks in, and you stare at her for a moment then turn back to the mirror, pretending to fix your lipstick.

"Really?" Leah shrugged her shoulders more aggressively than you had ever seen anyone before, holding her hands out in an outraged gesture. "You really did that?"

"S'just the game, Leah. You know that." You replied simply, resisting the urge to meet her stare.

It's silent between you both then, possibly the most charged silence you've ever found yourself in. Leah takes a few mindless steps around the room without a particular direction, eyes flicking back to you every second. At once, she stops, just off to your side, and slips her hands into the pockets of her black slacks, kissing her teeth and raising her eyebrows at you. The moment she goes to say something, there's voices coming from the corridor leading to the bathroom. You turn to look at her then, daring her to act first.

She does.

She takes full advantage of the moment, gripping your upper arm tightly and tugging you into one of the cubicles. You gasp quietly in shock, caught off-guard by her actions, and you grumble unintelligibly at the triumphant grin on her face. Her hands are tight on your hips, meanwhile yours are crossed over your chest in disapproval.

"Flirting with a guy? That's a new low." Leah taunted, each stroke of her thumb unintentionally raising the fabric of your black dress.

"Says the one that's so riled up, she dragged me into a toilet cubicle." You hit back, refusing to give in. Leah just shrugs, purses her lips, and takes a quick glance down to your now exposed thigh before looking back at you.

"I'm not riled up. You're the one getting antsy here, you know I'm winning and that's why you had to start feeling up that scraggly arsehole out there. Think again, sweetheart." Fuck, she might have gotten you there.

"Maybe I found him attractive." It's a weak defence, even you know that. Leah knew it too, if the slight raise of one eyebrow was anything to go by.

"Okay. One, you're in a relationship. Two, you're in a lesbian relationship. Three, you hear that?" She looks around in feigned confusion, cupping her hand around her ear briefly before turning back to you in what looks like a stupid, cartoon light bulb moment. "Oh yeah, you're pretty fucking gay!"

You roll your eyes and huff, shaking your head at her idiocy and turning your attention to the wall behind her.

"What was his name? Tell me about him, if he was attractive enough to feel the need to flirt with him." She was picking and choosing every teasing remark from the file in her mind to get under your skin.

"...his name was Dirk." The bark of laughter she lets out at that makes you flinch a little. Maybe his name was a little amusing, but right now to you there wasn't a single funny thing on earth.

"Dirk? Really? Did he come with a Swiss army knife and a granola bar in his pocket? Did he have a flannel shirt under his knit sweater? And a tent in his car, ready for a hike through the Grand Canyon?"

As it turns out, your last thought was a little far off.

The giggle bubbles out of you before you can think to stop it, and you lightly push Leah's face away from you with a hand to her cheek. She turns back to you with a grin, knowing she had won this evening. To be fair, she has won nearly every evening so far. She was on a winning streak you really had no plans of stopping. Not when it got you to this moment here, at the end of it.

"Out of all the guys in the room, I chose a pretty shit one." You surrendered in a murmur, Leah nodding.

"It's alright, look who you get to go home with."

Her voice had dropped to a whisper as she stepped further into your space, her nose nudging against your jaw where her mouth rested just above your pulse point. The shivers you got without even barely being touched were enough of a reaction for her. But, she was greedy when it came to you.

One arm slipped around your waist, holding you to her tightly as her large hand splayed out across your lower back. Her head dipped further down, her lips moving to press open-mouthed kisses to your exposed collarbone.

"Let's get out of here. I'm done now." She murmured into your skin, turning her face more toward your neck and leaving softer, slower pecks there.

"Don't you wanna get your payback? Otherwise you're giving up the win. I was more than ready to get back out there, the night isn't over." You were lying, you were more than ready to get the hell out of here, but you also weren't going to pass up on the chance to tease her just once more.

"I'll get my payback when we get to the hotel."

That's all she needed to say.

These nights had a certain characteristic to them, and that was possibly the most anticipated time of the evening. As the hosts draw out the end of the event, thanking people you've never heard of and have a large lack of care for, you and Leah were already gone.

Normally, it was a fierce wait, hanging on to the other's every move, everything else in the room simply just background noise, as you wait for who blinks first. Who gives in to the tension and ends the night before the lights come up, before the eyes of the room see you chase one another to the exit.

Tonight though, neither of you have the patience.

Regardless of the time you leave, it's the same situation every time for your organised driver; he drops you off and, under strict instruction by his management, waits for you to come back so he can drive you to the hotel or wherever you want to go. Except, you never come, he doesn't see you for the rest of the night once you enter the building. He's used to it by now, a little in love with it since he's getting paid for nothing, he just has to wait for your inevitable apology text telling him you won't be needing a ride home.

Tonight is just like the others - Leah ushers you into the back of an Uber with a hand on your waist, sliding in beside you and slamming the door shut with a smirk on her face after she gives one last glance around. There's never anyone watching, nobody knows where to look and nobody probably even cares, but she does it anyway. She could imagine the articles that might get written about her if the pair of you were ever spotted, and that fuels her even more. Maybe that's the alcohol in her system, but the thoughts run through her veins and she can't help but turn to you, grab your face, and dive into a kiss that's desperate and hot, and the tension of the night reaches its peak.

The cab driver just shakes his head, pulling away from the curb as the pair of you stay stuck in your own world. It's a few minutes later when you both pull away, cheeks flushed red and lips a tad swollen as you put your belts on. Straight away, Leah's hand falls to your lap and you hold it tightly with both of your own, looking up at her with a certain feeling swirling through your eyes that drives her crazy. Her hand moves, then, to the back of your neck as she pushes you towards her for another urgent kiss.

"You're lucky I'm not really the jealous type. I could have done a lot worse in there when you started flirting with Dirk." She comments breathlessly after, a displeased quirk to her mouth that hints she is in fact somewhat jealous.

"I'll make sure to do a better job next time then." You tell her in a feigned nonchalant way.

Leah stared at you then, her hand clutching the back of your neck as she gave you a look that warned you to not even think about such things. To be honest, you couldn't. You were hers just as much as she was yours. There was no other way to live than like that.

#leah williamson x reader #woso x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso fic #woso imagine #woso #woso community

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not-quite-normal · 1 year

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Congrats on launching one of my favorite movies ever made! On my third rewatch, I paid really close attention to eye shapes and noticed Miguel’s eyes are ridiculously expressive considering how different his mask is from the traditional spider mask, essentially missing one whole side of the lens and having a lot more geometry to move around. How difficult/easy was it to get his eyes to emote as much as the other spidey’s masks? Or was it relatively simple and just looks complicated on the outside?

well observed! his mask eyes did have to have a different rig from the other spidey's eyes but was actually relatively simple to control. the hard part was designing the shapes!

the default spiderman eyes on peter and miles have an extra outline around the white eye shields, which requires more attention to make sure the lines look nicely weighted

for eyes like miles, we have separate controls around the white and red bits to adjust the lines/shapes of them individually so that the red line goes from thin near the middle of the face, to thick, and then ends in a point at the top (the blue line in the middle just stays in the middle wherever it is).

but miguel only had one piece of geo to worry about! we had small "per edge" controls to adjust the shape vertex by vertex lol, and then larger controls to adjust the movement/expressions

we had to be very designy with how the eyes emoted because of how complex the overall eye shape is, we couldn't simply scale them down for a squint. it required a lot of thought behind how the shapes should change based on what we needed the expression to be, while still keeping him on model

huge shoutout to our senior animation supervisor humberto rosa, who was instrumental in the animation design on this movie and hammering these rules into the whole animation crew to make sure all the characters stayed on model. i learned so much from him on how to make 3D characters look like 2D drawings

#asks #spiderverse #across the spiderverse

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heesdreamer · 2 years

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ECHOES OF RIOT

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ falling inlove with a rockstar is never easy, especially when he returns to your hometown on a successful tour three years after you lost contact

WARNINGS ➩ this is like straight up angst… romance but mostly angst lol.. drug use, some violence, idk can’t really remember this is ridiculously long

WC ➩ 19.1k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ well this took me forever lol.. i don’t have much to say i just hope you like it. NOT PROOFREAD normally written at 4am lol the usual.. also side note one of the main characters was chaeyoung and i changed her to heejin for obvious reasons so if you see any of her name left over that’s my mistake and that’s why.

You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up like you did, so meek and quiet to the point that it was an actual hinderance on your daily activities.

If you were born like that, just one of those kids that was too shy to talk to their classmates and hid behind their moms legs on the first day of school, you’d completely understand but you’d actually been nearly the opposite for your entire life.

Maybe it was an accumulation of always feeling like you were taking up too much space, being on the receiving end of quick glares from teachers when you lacked volume control or seeing the hesitance on your friends parents faces when they excitedly asked if you could come over for a sleepover. Mixed with your own sudden self awareness going into high school.

You quickly realized that it wasn’t the loud girls getting asked out on dates and it was an almost immediately decline into self intrusion once you made this discovery.

It wasn’t like you necessarily wanted to be asked out by anybody, physically recoiling as your friends gossiped about the mass appointed hottest guys at your school and turning up your nose when they made sleazy attempts to flirt and court the other girls around you, but it felt embarrassing to be constantly left out of romantic group hangouts or discussions about experiences you’d never had.

Still, you had managed to keep a solid group of friends despite your newfound habit of self isolating and they only halfway judged you for your tendency to stay in on the weekends.

On the other half however, they weren’t so forgiving, hence why you were currently stood outside a low scale concert venue shivering so hard you were worried you’d chip a tooth. You were pulling your zip up hoodie tighter around your body and sending glares to your friends who were chatting animatedly about the band they were going to see.

Apparently it was composed of some boys around your age, not attending your school but well known enough that they had been invited to some of your friends parties and events and eventually your friend group had been given tickets to one of their shows.

You weren’t the biggest fan of crowds in general but especially concert goers and you’d been promised that this one would be chill and relaxing, something you automatically knew was a lie the second you left the cab and saw the attire of everybody around you. The line was buzzing with energy and adrenaline and you could hear the acts doing soundcheck from inside, music loud and heavy.

It was freezing and as much as you were dreading being pushed into a crowd with jabbing elbows and sweat rolling off their skin onto yours, you were ready to get out of the line as more and more snow kept falling down onto the uncaring crowd.

“Aren’t you excited?” Your head was turning at the sound of a soft voice coming from your right and you smiled softly at one of your calmer friends.

“Sure Sunoo. It’ll be fun.” You were replying quickly, not needing them to feel awkward or guilty about bringing you just because you didn’t necessarily want to come. You figured he could tell you were lying by the pity filled look he gave you but he didn’t call you out for it.

He didn’t say anything else for a second and he didn’t get a chance before the doors were opening and the line was surging forward, already getting your tickets checked while you waited and turning into a blob of people and excitement all trying to squeeze into the single door.

You were groaning softly at the feeling of being jostled around but you couldn’t help but laugh at the fact all of your friends were linking arms and declaring to stay together, slightly envious of the pure delight on their faces whilst your heart was starting to ache from the anxious way it was pounding. You let yourself be dragged through the crowd by them, closing your eyes for a second when you pushed through the tightest areas and just allowing them to guide you through it.

The venue was more so just a bar with a small stage but your friends had told you that these were the best types of places to see a show at, intimate and ear shattering loud.

They’d said the last half with an enthusiastic giggle but you had winced softly at the image of how close you’d be to the large speakers that you now saw adorning the stage. It was dark in the building and your shoes were sticking to the floor beneath you, lights turned a deep glowing green and something more casual playing over the speakers to fill the silence.

You’d followed behind them as they found a spot near the bar, safely tucked away from the crowd and planning to wait out the opening acts here to preserve their energy. They all agreed to push into the crowd once the main band came out and try to get as close as they possibly could, looking over at you for acceptance and all smiling and patting your back when you gave a sheepish nod.

It wasn’t that bad and you were quickly getting used to it, the thick cloud of cigarette smoke settling over you and only making you slightly dizzy now.

You felt a bit embarrassed and out of place but everybody else was too excited or drunk to notice that you weren’t exactly in the most appropriate attire. Sunoo had shot you a questioning glance when you’d gotten into the shared cab but you only just now realized you weren’t fitting in with the rest of the crowd or your friends even slightly.

The difference between you and them was even more evident when the owner of the bar was stepping onto stage and excitedly announcing the first artists, all your friends cheering and holding onto each other while you sat and watched from one of the bar stools.

You were still able to have fun as you watched them, smiling softly at the way they kept instinctively moving forward together as the music started and they screamed the lyrics. You didn’t recognize the songs that the band was covering but you knew enough about music to tell it sounded amazing, watching them closely as they skillfully played off of each other and got the crowd properly amped up.

You’d never really understood the purpose behind opening acts but you were getting it now considering you were feeling more and more excited for the main band as you kept watching.

Then more time had passed and the crowd had entered that stage of being too excited and too intoxicated to really understand boundaries and limits, a few fights breaking out that your friends didn’t bat an eye at but you were starting to feel a really deep pit building in your stomach.

It only worsened when somebody was hurriedly, and messily, approaching the bar and demanding another drink as he anxiously looked behind him at where you presumed his spot in the crowd was. You were watching him out of the corner of your eye as he ordered, feeling him swaying drunkenly closer to you and wanting to make sure he didn’t accidentally tip over and knock you out of your seat.

Your intuition was astoundingly accurate considering it wasn’t long before somebody else was approaching the man and leaning into his side, sending the both of them tilting over in your direction.

You’d just managed to hop off the bar seat before they were slamming into it but with the speed in which you’d jumped off combined with the sticky floor underneath you, you were skidding forward and landing roughly on your side against the ground.

Neither man seemed coherent enough to notice you had fallen from the height and you could hear them drunkenly laughing with each other from above you. Your friends hadn’t noticed the altercation either and you quickly frowned at the nasty sensation under your hands before you were standing up and swiftly adjusting your skirt.

You were rushing back out towards the entrance before anybody could notice your disappearance, pushing back through the door and immediately being hit by the cold air as the snow continued to build up on the ground. You were sighing and bending down to pick some of it off the sidewalk, rubbing it in your hands and trying to clean them off the best you could with the wetness.

“You’re going to miss the main act.”

You were jumping at the sound of a voice coming from behind you, standing up swiftly and turning around to see somebody leaning against the building and taking a long drag from whatever it was that he was smoking.

“Oh.. yeah I know I just.. had something on my hands.” You were mumbling out towards him and indicating awkwardly at the snow in your hands, realizing how weird it must’ve looked from his angle.

He was laughing softly at your explanation and your face flushed in embarrassment again for the sixth time that night, taking in his attire and knowing he’d be able to tell right away that you weren’t exactly supposed to be here. He was tall, would be even taller if he was standing up straight and it was especially accentuated by the tight fit of his ripped black jeans. You couldn’t see his face super clearly from where he was stood underneath the shaky lights but his hair was messy and in his eyes and you thought you saw a piercing or two shining on his face.

“Who dragged you here?” He was suddenly asking and you froze up again as you looked at him, eyes darting down to his feet for a second nervously.

“My friends got tickets and I couldn’t get out of it.” You were telling him softly and shrugging a bit. A car was driving past on the empty road and you waited for the sounds of the snow crunching under its tires to quiet before you finished. “From the band actually.”

You look back at him just in time to see his eyebrows lift in surprise and then settle into recognition, your own shifting forward in furrowed confusion. The boy was taking a step off the wall then and flicking his cigarette somewhere off near the road, your eyes following the still burning ember as it flew through the air before circling back to him.

“I’ll see you inside then.” His tone was one of a statement and not a question but you were still slightly confused despite the fact you habitually nodded at him.

You let out a big sigh once he was leaving finally, weirdly going through the alley towards what you could only assume was a side entrance and not the door right next to him. It quickly slipped your mind and you decided to wait for the previous act to finish up before you also headed back in.

You crouched back down closer to the snow and continued to try and clean off your hands and parts of your sleeves that had gotten stained from whatever substances were on the floor. The cold was sending waves of shivers through you but you simply ignored the uncomfortable feeling, especially since you figured you’d warm up quickly once you headed back inside.

Eventually you could hear the second opening act thanking the crowd for their intense energy before the familiar voice of the bar owner was back, this time more excited as he announced that the main band was finally coming out on to the stage.

You sighed softly again to yourself before stomping the slush off your boots and heading back through the door, once again being hit by the tight atmosphere that was a lot more sweaty than when you had first walked in and was now practically buzzing with adrenaline.

It was harder than you had planned for to get back to your seat and you almost gave up and just resided to the back of the building but once the band members were finally on stage the crowd surged forward, a gap in the mass of people slightly opened up and you were hurrying through it back towards where your friends had been. They were gone now but you had expected that, knowing they must likely went closer to the stage.

You were just barely settling back into an empty stool when the band was coming out on stage and you frowned when you realized you could barely see them, sitting up slightly and freezing up when you got a better view.

One of the boys was standing center stage and speaking into the mic, presumably introducing them to the crowd who was cheering the loudest they had all night, but your gaze was drifting a few feet to his right to where one of the guitarist was standing.

You immediately recognized him as the boy from outside, a wave of embarrassment washing over you as you remembered how you had been less than enthusiastic about coming and had told him the band invited you and your friends. His surprised expression was making sense to you now and you would’ve turned to face palm if you weren’t stuck staring at him.

He was scanning the crowd for a few seconds and your eyes widened a touch when he was looking in your direction, stopping his wandering gaze as a soft smirk started to build up on his lips.

You were glancing around you to see if there was anything else he could be looking at and then feeling your face heat up alarmingly fast when you realized there wasn’t and he definitely recognized you from your awkward encounter outside.

Then they were starting to play and you were frozen for other reasons, your eyes locked on him and his frame as he started to open the song slow and soft. It wasn’t the type of music you had expected from them just based off of appearance and you were completely transfixed by the way they skillfully moved with their respective instruments, the boys behind the mics voice coming through now.

The crowd was swaying along with the gentle music, calming down into a low buzz like they were being completely controlled by the bands sound and energy.

You sat frozen like that for the entirety of the first song, mouth slightly parted in surprise and watching the boy you’d seen outside as he continued to play. You didn’t know much about guitars but you could tell he was good, his louder than the others and ringing out clear even underneath the distorted vocals.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore because he wasn’t looking at anything at all, leaning back and keeping his eyes shut as he played them through the final half of the first song. He was rocking along with his strums and he seemed just as into it and transfixed as the rest of the building was.

The first song slowed to a stop and you heard the vocalist laugh softly into the mic before he was glancing behind him towards where the drummer was sitting. You watched them curiously as they nodded at eachother in silent communication, amazed at how casual and relaxed they seemed to be in front of all of these people.

“Obviously we know what you’re all here for.” The lead vocalist was speaking into the mic with a small smile and the two guitarist start to build up the intro of the next song. “Watch your elbows and try not to knock anyone out.”

He was laughing as he finished his lighthearted warning but you watched as the crowd surged with excitement and started to move around, coming to life in sync like they were all the same creature and you felt a bit sick at how tight and moving it was quickly becoming. He was starting to sing again in a lower tone and even though the song was still bordering on calm, you could feel it building up along with the energy in the room.

It was closer to what you had expected their music to sound like and although it wasn’t necessarily something you’d keep on during your downtime, you couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy at the way the entire crowd reacted to the explosive chorus.

The drummers voice was rasping underneath the main vocalist now and you quickly understand their previous communication, a smile building on your face as you watched the guitarist from outside staring at them with an unfiltered excitement.

They played more songs and you continued to sit and watch them unmoving, your eyes mostly transfixed on the boy with the guitar until the end of their set. You’d never seen somebody play the way he did and you almost felt like you had no choice but to watch him considering how captivating he looked on stage. Eventually they were shouting their goodbyes towards the crowd and accepting thrown gifts and hands reaching out for contact, all except for the guitarist considering he was just watching and smiling at the crowd for a distance.

You were still watching them as they left the stage and disappeared back into the restricted part of the building, not even noticing when your friends were excitedly bounding back over to you.

“That was fucking awesome.” Heejin was wrapping her arm around your shoulder and shaking you enthusiastically, sweat lining her dyed hair now and making her tattoos glisten under the now red lighting.

“Jungwon somehow sounds 100 times better in person.” You turned your head to see Sunoo coming to sit next to you with an impressed look on his face, shaking his head in disbelief and still watching the empty stage like you were a few moments ago. “Plus I didn’t know Jake could sing like that.”

“He sang at that school event remember? Before Jay got him into drumming.” Riki was quickly explaining and taking a swig of a water bottle he was carrying, still slightly out of breath from the tight and hot crowd.

You watched them talk animatedly about the show with a soft smile and fondness, you were glad they had fun even if you were originally hesitant to come out with them. It had been better than you’d expected and you still felt a little rush of excitement under your skin when you thought about how loud and beautiful the music had been. You’d completely forgotten about falling on the floor or any mishap.

“Are you ready to go then? We don’t want to keep them waiting, they’re probably super tired.” Joonie was turning to smile at you and await your response but her grin faltered when she saw the heavy look of confusion gracing your features. “You didn’t ask her?”

She was moving her head to give an accusatory stare towards the others and Sunoo winced softly at the harshness in her glare. Riki was sighing and scratching the back of his neck before answering. “We figured we’d ask her after she saw them… maybe she’d be more inclined to say yes.”

“Say yes to what?” You were quickly butting in, slightly frustrated that they were talking around you like you weren’t sat right there watching the entire thing.

“The band wanted us to come over to their place after the show.” Heejin was answering hesitantly, watching you with an expectant look like she was already prepared for you to shut them down.

You can’t deny that the thought immediately crossed your mind, beyond used to rejecting hangouts instinctively especially ones that were so small and intimate with people you didn’t know.

Then you were thinking about the way they had performed and how you had felt seeing them have so much fun on the stage, like they never cared about taking up too much space and they certainly weren’t concerned with ever being too loud. You were pausing for a few seconds to think about it even though you already felt like your mind had been made up, meeting your friends waiting stares and giving them a soft nod of approval.

——

You had quickly come to regret your accepting nod on your way to meet up with the boys, packed into a cab with your friends who still vaguely smelled like the inside of the venue and conjoined sweat.

They still seemed excited so you were trying your best to not be a visible mood killer but you were getting more and more anxious the closer you got to where you’d be meeting, not even exactly sure what type of environment you were going into.

It got even worse when the cab was pulling to a stop in front of a house tucked neatly in a lower class suburban area, the dread of having to make small talk in such an intimate setting like one the boys house was making your stomach turn with nausea. You sucked it up and followed behind your friends with held breath, listening as the door opened and they excitedly greeted whoever it was that was behind it.

You eventually filed through and when it was your turn to pass through the doorway, you realized it was Jake who had opened it.

You recognized him from school events like Riki had mentioned before, not attending yours but a few times a year the neighboring schools held community shows and events to bring the area closer together and scout for grants and sponsorships. You distinctly remember Jake sitting on the stage a few years back, looking beyond nervous as he softly strung his acoustic guitar and sang a song that had slipped your memory by now.

It was a striking opposition to what you’d seen him do tonight, both the fact he had been singing so hard his voice was scratching underneath Jungwon’s softer tone and the way he was slamming down on the drums so hard you had been worried he’d break something.

He had a certain buzzing energy to him that helped this make sense, watching him now as he excitedly bounced around your friends like a loose dog as he guided them towards another doorway. You figured he was more full of bottled up excitement over any actual aggressiveness and you continued to silently follow behind them.

You were a bit surprised to be led down to a small finished basement, carefully walking down the carpeted steps and feeling weirdly like you’d been transported back to your own home with how familiar the area looked.

There was a small red light connected to the door with tape and you imagined it was to signal that some sort of recording was going on, a small smile playing up on your face at the irony of the devoted after band having such a simple setup. The smile was immediately slipping off when you were hearing your friends start up rounds of greeting again and you paled with nerves.

“That’s Y/N, she doesn’t talk much.” Riki was quickly saying and you were half grateful he had saved you from awkwardly stuttering out your name and half furious as all sets of eyes turned to look in your direction.

You recognized the lead singer first, looking a lot less intimidating now that he was sitting on the sofa in more comfortable clothes and letting his purple mullet air dry from what you could only assume was a post show shower. You knew his name was Jungwon just from hearing your friends rambles and you filled in the blanks for the rest of the names.

Jay was almost more intimidating off stage than he was on it, losing that playful and excited energy that being in front of a crowd brought and falling into an almost scary silence. If it wasn’t for the gentle way he was picking at an acoustic guitar, a stark difference to the black and shining electric one you’d seen him with on stage.

Your eyes were drifting over to the final person in the room who was busy chatting with Heejin and staring excitedly at her newest tattoos, his hands hovering over her skin but not touching directly like an excited child. Sunoo had told you on the way here that Sunghoon played bass and whilst you weren’t exactly sure what that meant, he seemed the most approachable out of the group.

Minus the member you’d already accidentally approached but he was missing from the current area and you felt a wave of relief rushing through you considering how embarrassed you’d felt seeing him on stage.

You almost fell into autopilot and you listened to the two groups mix and talk casually like they were lifelong friends, an overwhelming feeling of envy sitting in your stomach considering the fact they were so easily able to hold conversation with each other whilst you struggled to even introduce yourself.

Jay had gotten up to put on a record at some point and that made you feel slightly more at ease considering there was no more room for awkward silence, something a lot calmer than what they’d played earlier ringing through the room as they all lounged in different places and started to smoke amongst each other.

Your friends didn’t bother offering any to you considering you had a tendency to say no, not necessarily against smoking or being high but the intimacy of sharing a blunt mixed with the performance anxiety as it was passed around the circle almost on instinct. The other boys must’ve gotten the hint without it needing to be said and they also didn’t try to get you to smoke, leaving you relieved that they weren’t the types to poke fun at you or try to pressure you into it.

It was a lot easier for you to just watch them and get a small contact high, sinking down into your spot on the couch more and relaxing as they started to lose focus and definitely lose the ability to care if you were being awkward.

You were pressed against the side of the sofa even though nobody was sat directly near you, still trying to ensure you were taking up as little space on the furniture as possible in case somebody else wanted to sit or you were simply just in the way. You were grateful you’d developed this habit considering the door to the basement was opening again and you froze up as the light shone in from the top of the stairs.

“Finally, the chosen one has arrived.” Jake was yelling excitedly from somewhere you couldn’t see, laying flat on the carpet behind the round ottoman and you could only barely catch a glimpse of his arms being thrown up in mock praise.

You were staring at the stairs as the boot covered feet started to descend down and you knew who it was before he even reached the point where you could see his upper half, freezing even more at the way his eyes scanned over the unfamiliar faces in the basement before pausing on you.

You awkwardly pulled your sleeves over your hands and glanced back over at Sunoo was sitting in the chair closest to you and the couch, talking to Sunghoon about something you couldn’t quite make it out considering anxiety was fully building up now and you were slightly disoriented from the overstimulation in the room.

Much to your dismay and attempts to stop yourself, your eyes were drifting back over to the boy and you almost groaned when you realized he was still watching you.

Heeseung had, according to Joonie on the way here, been the one to originally start up the band and convince the others to take it as seriously as he did. He was the lead guitarist first and foremost but he dabbled in almost everything, including producing all of their original songs and covers and apparently forfeiting his basement as their studio considering the younger photos of him scattered around the walls.

His baby pink hair was in his face even more now than it had been when you’d saw him smoking outside, littered with random blonde patches that told you he had done it himself, and now you were positive he had multiple piercings throughout his face.

It was only getting worse for you when he was making his way over to the couch and taking the empty middle seat, directly next to you.

You were sat with your feet up on the fabric and hugging your knees close to your chest but you imagined if you’d been sat normally then your thighs would be press against his that had lost the tight ripped jeans and were now sporting some more casual black sweatpants.

“You want this Hee?” Sunghoon was saying from where he was sat on the floor besides Sunoo on the chair.

You glanced over to the boy just in time to see him shake his head in denial and a wave of surprise and relief washed over you, grateful you wouldn’t be the only one not smoking anymore. “You don’t smoke?” Riki was asking and Heeseung seemed to instinctively shake his head no.

Jay snorted out a half laugh half scoff and you watched the pink haired boy shoot him a sharp glare before his eyes were drifting over to you, almost like he was checking your reaction. Your eyebrows were furrowed forward in confusion, wondering why he was lying about smoking, he must’ve forgotten the fact you’d seen him outside with a cigarette only a few hours before.

Everybody fell back into their own individual conversations again and you started to relax finally, listening to the music playing softly in the smoke filled room.

“So did you end up liking it then?” Heeseung’s voice was coming from beside you and you looked over towards him with widened eyes, not expecting him to directly address you.

“W-what?” You were stuttering out and then immediately flushing in embarrassment when a concerned look passed over his intimidating face. He seemed nice enough but your closed mind couldn’t look past the piercings and the eyeliner still staining around his large eyes.

“The show.” He was quickly explaining, looking slightly embarrassed himself that you hadn’t understood what he was talking about. “You didn’t seem too excited when you were outside.”

You froze up in your spot considering he was directly referencing the conversation you’d had outside, in which you had told him begrudgingly and in complaint that you hadn’t been able to get out of going to the show that he was performing at. You didn’t respond for a few seconds and you were grateful that everybody was too stoned to keep up with your awkward conversation.

“It was… you guys were very..” You trailed off when you saw the expectant look on his face and you cleared your throat a bit, eyes darting down to the double piercings going through the thin skin of his lips and then back up to his eyes. “It was cool.”

“Just cool?” His lip was curling softly up into a half smirk at your extremely vague answer, shifting in his place on the couch so he was facing you better and you tried not to be extremely weird about the fact his arm was resting on the back of the sofa now and therefore his hand was dangling on the other side of your shoulders.

“Super cool?” You offered in a squeaky voice, wincing as your shoulders curled in on themselves.

He laughed softly at your answer and you were relieved that he found it somewhat funny and wasn’t totally offended that you didn’t have a string of compliments prepared for him. You did like the show much more than you thought you would and if you were able to get ahold of yourself, you would’ve told him how impressed you were as you watched him play.

But you weren’t that lucky and you knew you’d be stuck giving him half true statements that didn’t actually show how you truly felt about the set, turning your head back to face forward so you didn’t have to look at his face anymore.

You weren’t exactly sure why he had come to talk to you out of everybody in the room, knowing he was obviously a lot closer to his band mates and had even hung out with your male friends a few times from your knowledge in group settings. Joonie had told you that she thought the two of you were a bit similar considering he was also rarely at social events but you highly doubted the comparison considering the way he looked performing in front of an adoring and expectant crowd.

Still, you thought about the way he hung back at the end of the final song instead of interacting with the fans like the other members had and the fact you hadn’t been surprised when he wasn’t present in the basement at first.

“Are you two actually talking to each other or just sitting in weirdo silence?” Your head was picking back up to look over at Heejin who was sitting on the other side of the couch, next to Heeseung but leaning far enough away towards Jake and Jungwon that they didn’t touch at all.

You didn’t need to look at her to know who she was referring to but your stomach dropped a little when you met her gaze and confirmed she was referring to you, the others in the room also looking over considering her statement.

Heejin was in no way mean to you and she was actually your longest friend out of the group, knowing her since middle school which meant she was around to watch your social decline. She made jokes sometimes or pushed you too far out of your comfort zone but you always took it as her way of trying to help you loosen up like she knew you could, always stopping whenever you got visibly too overwhelmed or uncomfortable.

You weren’t sure if it was the presence of people she admired or the buzz of a high settling over her that caused her to make the comment but it clearly crossed a line the two of you had silently established throughout the years, your face dropping at the unwanted attention.

“Heeseung is the master of weirdo silence.” Jake was adding on from the floor again and you could hear him giggling nonsensically, sitting up so you could see his head past the ottoman and frown at him.

“Yeah well I’d rather talk to..” Heeseung was starting harshly before trailing off and glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow. You paused for a few seconds and stared at him in confusion but realizing he was waiting for you to tell him your name, quickly whispering it to him and trying to ignore the small smile he gave you before turning back to look at the others. “I’d rather talk to Y/N than you deadbeats.”

The boys in the room were breaking out into small fits of laughters and instigating choruses of “Oo’s”. Fanning their hands out like they’d been burned and only settling down when Heeseung was rolling his eyes and sinking further into the couch.

Luckily they all seemed to let it go after that even though you were still left with a deeper pit in your stomach because of Heejin’s random dig at both you and Heeseung, roping him in to your anti social behavior and giving his own friends the opportunity to pile on top of it.

You were glancing over at him again from the corner of your eye, hesitantly shifting to try and catch his attention again. His gaze was snapping back to your face when you moved slightly and his eyebrows raised in question again, a lot softer than they had been when he was asking for your name and snapping back at your friends. You watched the way the metal balls surrounding his eyebrow stretched with the movement before licking your dry lips and speaking.

“Thanks.” The word slipped from your lips in a small breath and once again you felt disappointed that it was all you had managed to say, wishing you were able to express your gratitude to him more.

He didn’t seem to mind and his shoulders were lifting in a small shoulder, watching you curiously. “It’s no big deal. I don’t talk much either.”

“Even though you do all… that?” You were asking before you even processed the question falling from your lips and he looked equally surprised as you that you were continuing the conversation without needing prompting.

“Like perform?” His voice was lower now as you started to talk more and you had a feeling he didn’t want the others to listen in and find a way to intervene again. You gave him a soft nod, grateful he had understood your vague wording. “It’s different, I don’t really think of it like that. Sometimes I don’t even feel like I’m there in front of all those people.”

If you’d heard him say that last week or even this morning, you would’ve not fully understood what exactly he was trying to explain to you. Even now you were still a bit confused on what exactly the feeling was like but you immediately understood what he was referring to, remembering the way he was closing his eyes and leaning with the music like he was in his own world.

You must’ve fallen silent for too long as you were thinking about it and what that could possibly be like, how it would feel to live a life with that sort of overwhelming passion, because he was clearing his throat and shifting again.

“It’s like… well what do you do?” He was starting to try and find an analogy, assuming you didn’t understand and you froze up at the direct question.

“What do I do?” You were repeating back to him for clarification and he nodded earnestly, waiting to hear your answer. “I don’t think I really do anything.”

He seemed taken back by that and you were slightly embarrassed that you’d failed to answer his question properly. You’d thought about it before, being at the age where you should have something you were passionate about or a hobby that motivated you in some way.

You never really did much of anything on your own and you’d yet to find anything that gave you that sort of spark he’d be referring to, the type of spark that would cause you to do what you loved even if it meant pushing yourself past your limits or standing on a stage like you were born for it.

“What are you doing this weekend?” He was suddenly rushing out and your eyes widened in surprise again at the fact his voice had come out much louder now, like he’d forced himself to say it. You didn’t say anything for a few seconds and then you were shaking your head to signal that you weren’t doing anything set in stone. “Come to our next show.”

“To your show?” You were repeating in bewilderment and he was nodding his head quickly as he scanned over your face hesitantly, wondering if you were going to reject him. Eventually you were biting the inside of your cheek after contemplating for a while and glancing at him. “O-okay.. yeah sure.”

——

“Y/N, the phone for you.” Your mothers screaming voice was floating up the stairs and you groaned softly into your pillow, laying on your stomach and overthinking the events of the previous weekend like you had been for days.

It was pretty uneventful after your conversation with Heeseung, both falling into a silence or offering small laughs and quick glances as you listened to your friends talk and get to know each other better. He must’ve been telling the truth about not talking much because nobody looked over at him once expectantly although you noticed his band mates keeping an eye on the two of you occasionally.

Eventually you and your friends had left the basement and the pink haired boy had spared you a quick wave through the window as the taxi pulled off.

You’d listened to your friends excitedly talk the entire way back to your neighbors and pry you for details about what you’d been talking about with him, not noticing the bitter expression on your face when you noticed how surprised they seemed that he’d chosen to speak to you.

Now it was Thursday and you were thinking about it all again, replaying it over and over and finding something new to be embarrassed about each time you did. Heeseung was surprisingly soft spoken and slightly awkward considering his appearance but you knew it held no parallel to how terrible you were at socializing.

“Y/N.” Your mom was screaming again and this time you rolled over as you groaned, letting it fill the room before you were getting off your bed and heading down the stairs.

Your mom was standing there with the phone in her hand, watching you with an excited expression and your face was pulling forward in confusion as your steps hesitantly slowed to a stop. “It’s a boy.” She was whispering and pointing at the phone with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

You were snatching the phone away from her and walking around the corner into the hallways, stretching the chord as far as it could possibly go and waving a dismissive hand at your mom when she was poking her around the corner in curiosity.

“Hello?” You were breathing into the phone and it was a heavy silence for a few seconds before you could hear somebody clearing their throat on the other side.

“Hey Y/N, it’s Heeseung.” He was announcing and you froze up at the sound of his soft voice coming through your speaker, clutching the phone tighter in your hand and shifting it against your ear. “Um.. like the guitar guy.”

You were laughing softly at the fact he felt the need to specify, most likely growing nervous from your extended silence. “I know who you are Heeseung.”

“Cool… yeah cool.” He was breathing back and letting out his own nervous laugh, a small smile building on your face at how awkward he seemed now. You liked how different he was in each setting, confident and sensual on stage and casual and calm when surrounded by his friends in a familiar area. Now you were seeing what he was like on his own, mirroring a personality similar to yours.

“D-did you need something?” You tried to keep your tone light so he didn’t think you were bothered by the fact he had called despite your confusion over how he’d gotten your number or what exactly he wanted.

Your heart was racing slightly as you listened to him inhale over the phone, feeling a bit ridiculous over your own reactions but you couldn’t help but think about his soft pink hair and the piercings your mom would definitely disapprove of. She glared at Heejin’s bare skin every time she came over during the summer so you couldn’t imagine her reaction to seeing Heeseung’s group of friends.

“I was just calling to make sure you were still going to the show and Sunghoon said I should tell you to bring your friends.” He was explaining in a low tone and you could hear shushing in the background, your smile widening at the realization he was around some of his friends. “I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to convince Heejin to give him a tattoo but it would be safer anyways with more people.”

“Alright, yeah we’ll be there.” You were telling him back swiftly and you surprised yourself by how naturally it came out of your mouth, no stutter or hesitation.

“Cool.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he said the word again, almost repeating it like he did the first time but seemingly catching himself before he did. “I’ll see you there then?”

“Yeah… yeah you will.”

——

“So he like directly invited you.” Riki was asking for the sixth time that night and you sighed softly when he was bumping his elbow into your arm with a smile on his face, clearly excited about the recent development in your life.

“Is it that surprising?” Your tone was stiff along with your posture, somehow once again finding yourself in a cold line outside of a random concert venue downtown.

“Not at all Y/N.” Sunoo was quickly interjecting once he realized you were taking offense to their over excitement, offering him a small tired smile due to his habit of trying to make you feel better. “We are just happy for you.”

You were about to remind him that there was no reason to be happy or excited and that you and Heeseung had just gotten along, nothing else, but you were interrupted by the staff who was checking tickets approaching your group. You watched as he took a look at Riki’s and then his school ID, promptly marking his hand with a solid black X before he was turning towards you expectantly.

He was looking at your ID with a bored expression but before he was able to hand it back to you and give you a similar marking, he paused and did a double take as he looked at the words. “Y/N? You’re on the list.”

“The list?” Your voice was soft in confusion and buried under the sound of your friends excited squeals and laughters, feeling Joonie’s hands come up to squeeze your shoulders and shake you softly.

You weren’t understanding what was happening until you were being moved forward, hearing Heejin clarify that you all were allowed early entry before she was smiling brightly and practically caring you with the rest of them as you entered the venue ahead of everybody else. You felt a flush come up to your cheeks when you realized that Heeseung had clearly mentioned you to the staff of the building and that’s why you were currently skipping the line and heading towards the back of the venue.

It was a different place than last time, bigger and seemingly more concert specific in comparison to the bar you were at last time.

The staff member was leading you down a hallway until you were stopped in front of a door with chipping paint, a piece of paper stuck to it with tape and the bands name in big sharpie letters. You smiled softly at their names all scribbled around the bold font, knowing they must’ve stuck it outside themselves as a mock dressing room.

You felt a wave of anxiety rush up with the employee was knocking on the door twice before turning to head back outside and control the growing crowd but you didn’t have any time to panic before it was being thrown open.

“You came.” Heeseung’s eyes were wide as he looked down at you in surprise and you were parting your lips to answer him before your friends were impatiently pushing into the room, practically shoving you forward into him.

He helped steady you when you made a small noise of surprise and you were glancing up at him in embarrassment, face undoubtedly red considering he was holding onto your arms even once your feet were flat on the ground. “You look…”

You felt overwhelming self conscious when his gaze was dropping down, scanning over your outfit and body before meeting your eyes again. You’d mistakenly let Heejin and Joonie dress you after they practically spent two hours begging, remembering how awkward you felt being improperly dressed last time.

It felt even worse to be in clothes you weren’t at all used to or comfortable with and you couldn’t tell what Heeseung was thinking just based off his expression.

“It looks really good.” He was breathing out finally and you felt a wave of relief at his statement, and then self judgment for caring what he thought in the first place. “Are you sure you’ll be comfortable though? I have a sweater you can wear.”

You froze up slightly as he continued to speak to you in a calm voice, somehow sensing your anxiety over the outfit despite only speaking to you a few times. You were half flattered that he cared enough to lend you some clothes and half humiliated that he could tell you didn’t normally wear things like this.

He must’ve seen outfits like this on hundreds of girls every time he had a show, knowing half the crowd would be dressed similarly to you but wearing it with a confidence and aura that you severely lacked. You didn’t have an overwhelming presence like Heejin or an alluring personality like Joonie and you’d always felt bland in comparison.

You were awkwardly glancing around the makeshift dressing room and pleased to see your friends and the band engaging in their own excited conversations and not paying you any mind.

Then your gaze was landing on one of the mirrors across the room and you were freezing up when you caught sight of you and Heeseung, still standing closer than you’d thought you were with his hands touching your arms. You almost didn’t recognize yourself for a second and despite how awful the clothes felt against your skin, you couldn’t deny that you looked good standing next to him and his similar aesthetic.

“I’ll be alright.” You were turning back to him to answer his question definitively and you tried to hold eye contact with him for a second, easier considering his hair was falling into his face again.

He was wearing eyeliner like he had been the first time you’d seen him outside the venue but it was a lot bolder and messier this time, making his eyes even bigger than they already were but completely changing his energy and appearance in comparison to the version of him you’d seen in his basement.

“Are you nervous?” You weren’t sure why that was the next thing you said to him but his eyes lit up when you whispered the question, staring up at him with wide eyes and saying it so softly he almost didn’t catch it underneath the loud crowd in the distance and your friends behind him.

“I’m excited.” He was responding back and you knew he meant it, no sign of apprehension or hesitation on his face.

You’d never seen somebody look as intense as Heeseung did when he talked about performing, his entire demeanor changing from the awkward boy who you’d been speaking to, almost seeming unsure of himself after every sentence. He didn’t even seem to think at all when he spoke about music or being on stage and you watched him curiously as he rambled on about how it felt to be up there.

You figured he probably knew you wouldn’t ever be able to understand what he was talking about unless you did it yourself but you still felt giddy that he wanted to explain it to you.

He talked about it until another team member was poking his head in to let the boys know that soundcheck was about to start and then the doors would open, also being you and your friends queue to go and get spots in the front row.

“I’ll see you out there then?” He was smiling down at you and giving a gentle squeeze to your arm that he was still holding, your own breaking out on your face despite trying to withhold and you gave him a small nod of approval before he was disappearing out the door after the others.

Your friends were obviously excited for having caught the end of your interaction and although you rolled your eyes as they begun to tease you, you couldn’t rid yourself of the bright grin you were catching between your lips and you started to head back out into the hallway and towards where the crowd would be standing.

You felt okay for now but you were starting to get more and more anxious at the realization that soon the mass of people would surge inside towards you and you’d be stuck in your place against the barricade, white knuckling it as you contemplated heading to the back of the venue and watching from there instead so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself by having a panic attack right in front of the band.

“You know..” Heejin was leaning in against your side to whisper into your ear and you felt her hand squeezing your side affectionately. “Jake said that Heeseung’s never invited anybody to a show before.”

She was pulling away just in time to see your eyes widen in surprise, followed by your face flushing a bright red at the knowing look she was giving you. “Not even his family?”

You knew that the bands music wouldn’t necessarily be everybody’s personal taste, especially those of an older generation, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly confused that he wouldn’t ever ask anybody to come watch him perform. He was clearly proud of what he had created and more passionate than anyone you’d met before.

“It’s just him and his dad I guess.” She was shrugging softly and glancing up at the stage as she spoke. “Apparently he’s a huge hard ass about him doing music.”

Your face was falling into a small frown at what she was saying but you didn’t have a chance to respond before the lights were shutting off and immediately being replaced by the same red ones the other venue had put on for their set, hearing the sounds of the doors opening and feet swiftly approaching the stage.

Anxiety was immediately building up as you were getting more and more constricted in the crowd but you felt slightly better knowing your friends were around you, feeling Riki not so subtly shift his position so he was stood behind you and you weren’t going to be subject to any stranger pressing into your body.

You were going to turn and give him a grateful smile but you were cut off by the sounds of the crowd screaming louder than you’d ever heard, confused on what was causing it before you realized the boys were already coming out onto the stage.

They were only silhouettes at first without the spotlights turned on but you could tell it was Sunghoon who had ended up directly in front of you, glancing across the stage to see Heeseung on the other side beside Jungwon again like he had been the other weekend.

Then the lights were coming on, soft enough to keep the red glow but illuminating each member and their instruments. You smiled widely and couldn’t help the scream that leapt from your throat, joining in with your friends and the rest of the crowd as excitement started to fill you. You’d never been in a setting like this before and you were quickly understanding why it was so addicting.

You were already watching Heeseung from the moment he stepped on stage so you definitely didn’t miss the way his eyes were scanning the front section of the crowd, only settling once they passed by you before quickly backtracking as a smile curled up on his lips.

Jungwon was starting to speak into the mic and introduce them like you’d heard him do last week but you were preoccupied, watching the pink haired boy and giving him a small nod of acknowledgment with a soft smile.

Then the show was starting and you quickly realized that what you had seen last time was nothing in comparison to actually being in the crowd, an energy taking over you that you didn’t even know you possessed. You were dancing along with Heejin and gripping Sunoo’s arm in excitement as he screamed and sang along, all the while keeping your eyes on Heeseung.

He was almost like a completely different person on stage, more than just his energy considering the fact even his gaze was new to you. He was a lot more intimidating when he was staring down at you with hooded eyes, the eyeliner more smudge now and thankfully distracting you from the skillful way his fingers moved along the guitar strings.

It was hard not to think about him to the level you’d been trying to deny when he was looking at you for almost the entirety of the show, seemingly checking on you when the crowd got particularly wild and at other times almost looking smug because of how transfixed you seemed. His lip would curl into a cocky smirk that you didn’t even think he could manage and you’d feel your heart thump alive in a way it never had before.

You spent the next few months following this exact routine with him.

Every week, in the middle of it or sometimes as early as the day after a show, he’d call your house and your mom would yell your name up the stairs. He’d softly invite you to the next show and you’d excitedly tell him that you’d be there, despite knowing he already knew the answer and you knowing he just liked to hear you say it.

Sometimes you’d take your friends with you but eventually you got comfortable enough to go by yourself, you’d be let in early with a small smile to the bouncers and you’d always ask him the same question before he got on stage.

“Are you nervous?” You’d say for the dozenth time even though you knew by now that he wasn’t but every single time his eyes would light up with that fire and passion that you’d been so sucked in by and he’d always repeat the same words back in the same tone.

“I’m excited.”

Heeseung liked it best when you came to his shows so you did it every weekend you were free, even when you’d get too overwhelmed and have to sit in the dressing room or behind the stage if it was available, he just liked knowing you were there to see him and he expressed it to you every single time.

You got closer over that time outside of watching him play too, taking longer to get over that awkwardness you both carried outside of the venues when the adrenaline died down but eventually you’d stopped hanging out solely within your respective groups and started to spend some time alone together.

He’d pick you up in his shitty run down car and your mom would glare at him from the living room window, watching his hair go from pink to blue then to a red that had taken you back a few steps with its brightness when you’d first seen it.

“That’s.. a strong choice.” You’d said after you buckled your seatbelt and you were reaching forward to run your hand through it before you even had a second to think about it.

“My dad hates the color red.” Was all he had responded with and you watched the side of his face as he smiled softly and put the car into drive.

Heeseung wasn’t the most stable person to be around at times but you eventually realized that you’d never felt as comfortable taking up space as you did when you were with him, an addicting feeling that you almost had no choice but to lean forward into and you were thankful that he was always around to catch you.

You’d sit in the basement with the boys as they practiced new songs and Jake had even attempted to teach you to play some songs on the guitar, going to him for help because it felt less intimidating than asking one of the actual guitar players.

It was somehow easy to mesh into their routines and hobbies despite how different you were than them and your most fun high school memories all featured your old friends and new ones hanging out together, all packed into booths at late night diners after a particularly good show or getting makeshift tattoos from Heejin in the familiar basement that you’d spent most of the year in by the time graduation rolled around.

Heeseung was a year older than you and already graduated before you’d met him but he’d made sure to attend and watch you and your friends walk, minus Riki who still had a year left.

You’d all rushed out of the ceremony hall and squished in his car so you could drive across town and watch the rest of his friends at their own school, cheering for them all in your different colored graduation gowns and ignoring the embarrassed look on Jungwon’s face when he gave his class president speech at the beginning.

There were a lot of highs but it all came with lows too and those took you longer to adjust to.

You weren’t exactly sure how to handle it when Heeseung would show up at your house late at night, sometimes bleeding from various places on his face or panting like he’d run all the way there. You’d quickly pull him inside and ignore your moms questioning shout asking who was at the door.

Eventually you had sat her down after dinner and told her that sometimes Heeseung had issues with his dad and he didn’t have anywhere else to go, which was a slight lie on your part but you knew it felt true to him considering he never considered any other options before heading in your direction even if it was across town and a lot less welcoming than one of his friends houses.

She never was a big fan of him, of any of your friends but especially him, despite the gentle way he always said hello to her upon entry and his countless attempts to get on her good side. You’d tried to explain to him that it wasn’t anything personal or anything he was doing wrong and it was just how your mother was but he seemed particularly upset about it despite normally not caring what people thought of him.

“It’s your mom, it’s different.” He was stressing his words to emphasize that it was because she was related to you that it mattered to him and you were furrowing your eyebrows and turning to look at him.

You were sat on your bed together, two months before it happened, and sharing a pair of headphones that was playing a scratchy demo of a song he’d been working on. You were popping the tape out of the device so it would stop abruptly as you sat up a little bit to be able to see his face better.

“Why do you say stuff like that?” You were asking him and he sighed softly like he always did when you begun to pry for answers regarding his behavior towards you.

Despite the way you felt around him and the fact you’d practically become inseparable in the summer following graduation, you’d never directly talked about what your relationship was or even crossed a line that would definitely give you an unspoken answer. Outside of some longing glances and hands resting a little too low on your back, you’d remained pretty platonic other than your own inner thoughts and emotions.

“Don’t know.” He was mumbling softly as he looked at you and you squinted your eyes at him in disbelief but eventually you sighed and shifted back so you were resting against your headboard again, shoulder pressed into his tightly.

When it finally happened, you pretty much assumed that your life was going to abruptly end.

The boys had been growing in popularity now that they were out of school and able to do music full time, still underaged but building enough connections with the local music scene and venues to be able to play more frequently and to older and grittier crowds.

Mixed with the rise of the internet and MTV music videos filled with long haired rockstars and half naked women, it didn’t take long for their talents to get noticed by a few different people who swore they were from the next big company and could guarantee to make Echoes of Riot each millionaires respectfully, offers that were all swiftly turned down by Heeseung (with the advice of Sunoo who had begun to fill a management like role within the group).

You’d never paid much mind to what stardom would mean for the boys despite believing to the deepest part of your heart that they deserved it and were more talented than most the people you heard over the radio. For some reason, some childish idiotic reason, you figured they’d spend the rest of your lives being teenagers playing in bars around your small hometown.

Then one night after a particularly long show, all the boys panting and sweaty as they headed back to their dressing rooms, a man had approached them similarly to the way others did almost nightly.

You knew right away that something was different this time and your friends did too, watching silently as the group stopped in their steps towards the back rooms and actually begun to pay attention to what the man was saying. Heeseung’s eyes were flickering up to yours and you raised your eyebrows at him from where you sat at the bar, shifting out of your seat when he beckoned you closer with a quick flick of his fingers.

The rest of your friends followed you and all of you made your way back to the rooms with the band and the man.

He didn’t seem at all bothered by the additional people in the room as he started to repeat his pitch behind closed doors and your heart started to clench nervously when you realized why he seemed so different.

Min Yoongi actually cared about the music quality and spreading a proper message through your work and performances, opening his monologue with descriptions of how he felt hearing and watching the videos Riki had been posting online of the group and you watched as his eyes twinkled with a passion you’d only ever seen before from the boy sitting next to you.

His hand was resting on your arm and draping over your shoulder on the couch but he couldn’t have been further away from you in that moment, holding onto every word Yoongi was saying and leaning forward occasionally to enthusiastically agree with something he was saying.

It was a jarring change after seeing him barely give the other music people a second of his time for the last few months but you understood that they had this connection you simply weren’t capable of understanding, a mutual trust built through having the same dream and passion and by the end of the first meeting, even without anything even halfway confirmed, you knew things were going to change from then on out.

Yoongi didn’t have a lot of money to invest into the boys but he was dedicated to promoting them and helping them with levels of production you’d only get with decades of experience, upping their discography to even higher levels and it wasn’t long before he was proving himself right.

“Tour?” Your voice was breaking around the word Heeseung had just said, continuing his sentence afterwards but you hadn’t heard a thing he’d said after that, your ears ringing as your face paled. “You’re leaving?”

He was faltering at the unexpected upset in your voice and you would’ve felt guilty for not matching his level of enthusiasm but you couldn’t help the wave of panic overwhelming you as you continued to try and process what he was saying.

“Hey, hey Y/N listen to me.” His voice was soft and you could feel his hand reaching forward to touch and cup your cheek, softly swiping his thumb over your smooth hot skin and shifting on the bed so he was closer to you. “It would only be for a few months, then I’d be coming back. We’d all be coming back.”

You’d somehow not processed the fact that going on tour meant the other boys would be also leaving with him and another wave of sickness swept over you at the realization you’d be losing most of your friends in one swoop, the most constant and positive thing in your entire life since you’d met them.

“I don’t want to leave, baby you know I’d never just leave.” He was quickly continuing when he realized he’d made it worse and your eyes shot up to him at the use of the pet name falling from his lips so casually despite never hearing it directed towards you before. He didn’t even seem to notice that he had said it and he was continuing on despite the surprise on your face. “But… I mean this is it.”

His words were vague but you knew exactly what they meant.

This was the end of the road for the life you’d been so happily living because despite how content and happy you were watching them play small and intimate shows, Heeseung had this hunger for more that would never be satisfied in a place like your hometown.

He didn’t mean to break your heart of course and you were definitely at fault for stupidly falling in love with a rockstar, falling victim to the oldest cliche in the book as you sat at the bus station and cried into Joonie’s shoulder. You watched as their tour bus got further and further out of sight before it was turning a corner and disappearing with all of them on it.

Things were the roughest they’d ever been for the first few months the boys were gone.

Your typical routine had been shattered and you were back to existing like a corpse, moving around from one task to the next with no real excitement or purpose. You’d never necessarily gained one but being around somebody as passionate and driven as Heeseung was like getting a secondhand high and you’d been riding the wave of his interest for the last year, now alone out at sea and stuck scrubbing the counters of a coffee shop in the small downtown area of your city.

You tried to write for the first month or two but eventually it got too hard for you to handle and you started to let Heeseung’s letters pile up. He’d still call your home phone but your mom stopped letting you know when he did and sometimes you’d hear her softly telling him that you weren’t feeling good and she’d have you call back later. She never brought it up and neither did you.

He’d call Heejin and Riki too and sometimes you’d hear his voice when you were talking to Sunoo on the phone. He’d went with them on tour after Yoongi had asked him to be their official team manager, giving him more time to handle the business side of things while Sunoo dealt with their personal schedules and issues. You’d listen to your friend lie and say he was talking to his sister and you’d thank him softly as he sighed and asked why you couldn’t just talk to your shared friend.

You didn’t know how to explain that Heeseung was something you needed to get clean from and hearing from him in small doses would make it ten times harder for you to function.

It was too much to say that his letters kept you awake all night crying as you read about how much he missed you followed by random sketches and song lyrics he was writing about you. They wouldn’t understand why you dropped a full plate of food the first time you heard them on the radio at work or why you stayed up all night to see their first actual interview on TV.

Eventually people stopped mentioning the band to you or at least spoke like the main guitarist and face of the group didn’t exist. It was easy enough to avoid for the first six months and then the articles started to roll out.

The boys hadn’t come home after their first tour and they were “temporarily” staying out in New York where there was more of a network and better opportunities. Part of you was grateful Heeseung hadn’t moved back to town, knowing you’d run into him eventually but you couldn’t stop thinking about him regardless considering the news being put out with his name on the headlines.

“That’s his third fight this week Sunoo.” You were spitting over the phone, balancing it between your shoulder and ear as you aggressively scrubbed at a dish that’d already been clean for the past few minutes. “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping them in check?”

“You don’t think I’m trying Y/N?” His voice was exhausted and desperate and you felt bad immediately for snapping at him, knowing your real anger didn’t result from him. “I have no idea what to do, I’ve never seen him like this.”

All the boys had been subject to some controversy as they continued to gain quick fame and admirers but like always, your brain was laser focused on Heeseung. He was getting into drunken fights routinely and being reported with multiple women who may or may not be fans who like to kiss and tell, photos of him and the other boys looking worse and worse each passing weekend as their rockstar lifestyle truly blossomed into an absolute disaster.

Eventually you started to find yourself ignoring the news again, becoming accustomed to it and already knowing what it was going to be every time Riki sighed entering your job and slid a magazine in your direction.

Three years passed like this and while you had stopped crying every night from how much you missed Heeseung and your other friends, if you could even consider them that considering the lack of communication over the years, you still felt that empty feeling in your skin as you robotically went about your routines and lifeless activities that didn’t hold any real purpose or grand result.

At the end of the third year, stretching into a point where you’d been away from Heeseung longer than you were ever with him, Heejin had told you that the band was back in town.

She’d called you and hesitantly let you know that she had run into Jay at the local grocery store a few hours ago, citing that she hadn’t thought much about it until she was back at her tattoo shop and thinking about you possibly running into one of the boys for as long as they stuck around this time. You’d thanked her for the heads up and then buried your head into your arms in upset, both at how little distance was between you and Heeseung and also regarding the fact Sunoo hadn’t even bothered to tell you they were around.

Half of you expected it, knowing you weren’t teenagers anymore standing in a cold concert line and he didn’t owe you any update on his whereabouts, clearly not telling Heejin either considering her shock upon seeing a familiar face.

Joonie however seemed to know all about it when you hesitatingly mentioned it over lunch with her and Riki after he’d asked you why you seemed so on edge. “Well it’s been on their tour show list for like four months.”

“And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” Riki was voicing your thoughts before you could and his face was curled up in annoyance and betrayal as he shoved a fry into his mouth, clearly just as caught off guard as you and hurt considering he’d also gotten close to the members before they’d left and he was friends with Sunoo for as long as you.

“You always tell me not to talk about them in front of Y/N.” She was whining out and you glanced at the younger boy who looked slightly sheepish as she said something he clearly meant to keep private.

She wasn’t necessarily wrong and you’d grown to realize being around her was going to be hard considering how big of a fan she remained of the band even after their decline into scandal, simultaneously acting like any other fan girl and somehow also constantly bragging to others about how she knew them personally before they’d blown up. Maybe she had mentioned their return at some point but it’d been years since you started to tune her out.

“So they’re not staying?” You were finally speaking again, your voice weak and curious and she gave you a knowing look before nodding and patting your hand.

You weren’t sure why you felt overwhelmingly disappointed that they’d eventually leave again despite the fact you planned to spend the entire time they were here avoiding them and hiding out in your apartment. It was probably for the same reason she was giving you a pity filled look and Riki was picking at the skin around his nails.

It only took a few days for Joonie to push the limit on how much of her interest in the band you could take, answering her late night call to hear her hysterical as she screamed over the sound of passing cars and told you she’d completely stalled on the highway and was going to miss the show.

You told yourself that you began immediately putting on your shoes and grabbing your keys because you were a good friend and you kept repeating it in your head the entire drive to her location, swearing over and over that it had nothing to do with putting yourself closer to Heeseung. Even after her and her two friends had gotten in your car with his face on their tshirts, you swallowed your tongue and promised your heart it wasn’t for any other reason.

It wasn’t because you wanted to see the thousands of fans outside the arena, the show being on the nicer side of town and twenty minutes away from the venues they used to hold small performances for.

They thanked you continuously as you parked and then Joonie was pulling you aside to guilty whisper that you’d need to get your parking validate to be able to leave and return to pick them back up. A wave of nausea rolled over you but you were still convincing yourself you didn’t care so you swallowed your sickness and gave her a tight smile before following them outside the car.

“The booths over there.” She was telling you once you’d gotten inside and she had a wide smile on her face that matched her friends, clutching her ticket and practically beaming with excitement. “So we’ll see you at 11:30?”

“Mhm.” You didn’t trust your voice enough to speak and not give away how you were feeling so you hummed out a response to her question you barely processed before watching them squeal and walk towards the actual check in and entrance.

You rubbed your fingers together anxiously before glancing to your right and sighing seeing the line of people waiting to get their parking validated, teenage girls who looked like they barely could drive mixed in with dads and boyfriends who looked just as exhausted and irritated as you were starting to feel.

For a second you considered just leaving the girls there and asking Heejin or Riki to pick them up afterwards so you could drink yourself delirious and forget you’d ever been this close to the band but your heart clenched thinking about them having to experience the same thing and you told yourself again that you were trying to be a good friend.

You’d been standing in the line for twenty minutes, holding onto your last strand of patience and curiously listening to the fans around you talking about the boys with so much awe and wonderment.

You couldn’t help but smile at some things, hearing them gush about Jungwon’s cheeks or rave about how sexy Sunghoon’s newest guitar was and you felt a bit stupid for the pride filling your chest. You’d been avoiding them and their music, never listening to anything they’d put out in recent years but you felt happy for them knowing they were still igniting that same excitement in people even if they seemed to have lost the passion themselves.

It was almost exactly twenty one minutes later when you were feeling something tap against your shoulder, whipping your head to the side to see who had bumped into you before freezing up completely.

He had a mask on and a hat almost covering his eyes but you knew immediately who it was, eyes widening as you looked at him and then glanced around your surroundings to see if anybody had recognized him too.

“The fans don’t pay much attention to anyone without an instrument.” Sunoo was saying and you could hear him smiling even if you couldn’t see most of his face, breathing out a sigh of relief and pulling him in for a hug before you had a second to think about it.

He accepted it immediately and you were grateful that he wasn’t being distant with you despite the fact that was all you’d shown each other in recent years, melting into your hold as your eyes pricked with tears considering how much taller and thinner he was now. Sometimes when you thought of the boys, they were frozen in time and still teenagers in your head and you felt a bit dizzy as the illusion broke right in front of you.

“How’d you know I was here?” You were whispering out into his chest and then pulling back to stare up at him in amazement, scanning over his covered face.

“Sunghoon saw the hundreds of messages Joonie had sent… she actually had the guts to ask him to pick her up after her car stalled.” He was explaining and you felt embarrassed for your friend even though Sunoo was laughing like it was something funny. You got annoyed with her behavior but she was still your friend and you almost felt offended for her knowing they’d all been laughing at her attempts to reach out, no matter how baseless her connection with them seemed on their side. “We figured that you would’ve been the one to answer her calls.”

“We?” You were asking the second the word fell from his lips and a flash of regret passed over his face. “Do they all know I’m here?”

“Except for him.” He was explaining and you felt his hand squeezing your arm to try and calm you down, a flash of familiarity running through you at the feeling despite slowly recognizing the boy in front of you less and less. “But I imagine one of them is going to slip up sooner or later.”

You were nodding in understanding but your heart started to thump with anxiety and you were grateful that the arena was so full, hoping Heeseung wasn’t dumb enough to run out into a waiting room of fans to try and see you.

“I have to go.” You were practically forcing the words out and your face was pulling into a grimace as you said them, feeling short of breath and dizzy as your past and present finally started to collide despite your years of effort. “Can you…”

You were gesturing towards the parking validation ticket in your hand and he glanced down at it before looking back at your panicked eyes and nodding softly, squeezing your arm one more time before he was taking it and giving you the go ahead to get out of the arena before your chest exploded.

You didn’t know exactly what to say to him, you weren’t sure if this was a see you later or another long term goodbye and he seemed to be thinking the same thing, nodding again when you smiled sadly at him and took a few steps backwards.

Nearly losing your footing as you turned around, you were dizzyingly making your way out of the arenas main center and pushing back out into the chilled air. Your lungs tried to suck in deep breaths and you hurriedly made your way back to the parking garage but you were failing miserably and you eventually gave up all together, pausing in your quick strides and resting again the building with your eyes shut tight.

It wasn’t at all quiet, fans still gathered outside before the show and traffic beeps and honks as people tried to get in and out of the busy area, but your head felt empty and shut down.

The sound of footsteps approaching you crept into your dizzy brain and you took a deep breath before looking up, somehow already knowing who it was going to be without so much as a glance. He was stopping a few feet away from you when you looked up and your legs felt weaker as you stared at him in silence.

He was wearing a mask and a hat like Sunoo and whilst you’d been disappointed earlier about not being able to see your old friends face, now you were extremely grateful for the coverage. It didn’t help much considering you could still see the most recognizable part of him, his big eyes blinking at you in shock.

“You don’t look that surprised.” Heeseung’s voice was shockingly similar to how it was last time you’d heard it in person, the tone only slightly deeper and the only major change being the lifelessness behind his words as he watched you stand up straight.

He was right, for some reason you weren’t at all shocked to see him in front of you but he was in the same spot as you considering he came to find you in the first place. “Should I be? You’re here aren’t you?”

You heard him scoff softly before he was turning his head to look around the area, handful of fans still wandering around but slowly starting to disperse as they made their way insides to find their seats and buy the merch. He was glancing back at you quickly and then he was reaching up to take his mask off.

He didn’t say anything for a while after he took it off and you just stared at him, scanning over his face and the difference that time had handed to him. His features were a lot sharper now, growing into his nose and ears perfectly and you once again were hit with the reality that you’d been apart for a long time and the boy you knew was long gone.

“Sunoo validated your ticket.” He was starting to speak suddenly, awkwardness seeping into his tone due to your prolonged silent stare and you watched him dig into his pocket to retrieve the crumbled up piece of paper the parking machine had given you. “He got busy so I just brought it out.”

“He got busy?” You questioned and took a step forward away from the building, taking it from him swiftly and wincing when your finger brushed against his. “You’re the one in the band.”

He didn’t say anything to that, clearly lying about why he had been the one to bring the ticket out but making no move to correct himself or attempt to be honest with you. You didn’t really mind considering you were in a similar boat, having no real reason to rest again the building like you had other than buying yourself more time in the area.

“You’re not staying?” He was asking and his voice broke slightly which caused a large frown to form on your face, not sure why he had to even ask considering you both knew you weren’t going to watch his show.

“I’ll be back after to..” You awkwardly trailed off and lifted your hand that was clutching the parking ticket, indicating the reason you were there and watching him carefully. “Are you nervous?”

He tensed up as the familiar words fell from your lips and you felt like the air stopped moving for a second before he answered. He’d heard it asked thousands of times since it last was in your voice in that specific tone but it never bothered him before after the first year.

It was asked genuinely by other people, actually wondering if he was feeling nervous or at times doubting his abilities and using it as a way to get under his skin. Nobody ever made the simple question feel as important as you did and he understood why now that he was older and had plenty of time to think about it. You asked him, not because you thought he was or you figured he wouldn’t be able to handle the stage and the pressure, but because you knew it ignited a fire in him.

You’d ask him just to hear him repeat back in a firm voice how excited he was, to see that passion flare up in his eyes and give him an opportunity to voice some solid self confidence before he got up there to perform.

You knew right away that the phrase brought him back as far in time as it did you but your stomach turned at the blank look on his face, nothing arising to the surface at the triggered memory and instead he almost looked like he was deflating as you stood there.

“I’m just… tired.” He was eventually muttering back and clearing his throat before anxiously scratching at the back of his neck, both of you knowing the weight of his unusual answer and preparing to cripple under it once you were out of the suffocating hold his gaze had on you.

The both of you stood there for a few seconds longer before you could hear the screaming getting louder from inside, his head turning towards the building before looking back at you with a defeated expression. You knew without him saying it that he needed to go and that same feeling you had with Sunoo started to creep up again, not knowing what type of goodbye this was.

“There’s a second show tomorrow.” He was rushing out and then chewing on his lip ring as he avoided your questioning gaze. “You’ll be on the list.”

He glanced at you one more time but he seemed to understand that you weren’t going to give him a definite response, nodding his head in conclusion before he was turning around and jogging back towards the side entrance of the arena.

All the air returned to your lungs once he was finally out of sight and then immediately left again once you broke into a heavy sob, stumbling back a bit before quickly gathering your emotions and trying your best to hold yourself together.

You were quickly wiping your tears and glancing around to make sure nobody had been a witness to your abrupt meltdown, reminding yourself why you were there in the first place and heading back to your car like your world hadn’t just been taken off pause.

——

It had only taken you two seconds after the invitation fell from Heeseung’s lips to decide that you were going to go to the show.

He had said it like it was a question but the look in his eye told you that he didn’t think you’d come, but he still had invited you and that stupid part of you felt like that had to mean something. You’d had Riki pick the girls up from the concert that night and you ignored Joonie’s calls and the countless uploads she’d had from the concert.

You didn’t need to see the boys performing like nothing had happened, like your entire life hadn’t been flipped outside down with just a few sentences from the boy you’d tried your hardest to forget about the past few years.

It was a bit hypocritical considering you were currently back at the same exact place you were running from yesterday, this time walking in the opposite direction of the parking validation booth and awkwardly approaching the ticketing line. You felt like an idiot telling the staff that you were on the list, seeing their annoyed expressions and knowing they must hear it a dozen times a night from fan girls trying to get backstage.

“Nice try but there’s only ever been one name on the list and trust me, that seats never been taken.” The man was talking to you in a bored tone and your heart clenched at the implication of what he was saying.

You wondered if it was something Heeseung had done at the beginning of the tour in case you decided to come to one of the shows but he knew you well enough to know you never would and you certainly would never stride in the place without a ticket expecting to be on the list.

Eventually you figured that he had put you on there with the hopes that one day he’d have the guts to invite you and your heart shattered a bit more thinking about the fact that he never did, never even attempting as far as you were concerned and aware of. You cleared your throat awkwardly and rummaged in your bag to pull out your ID and hand it to the man silently.

His eyes flickered down to it for a second before looking back up at your face and you saw a wave of shock come over him, immediately followed by embarrassment for doubting you in the first place.

You gave him an awkward half smile and then an appreciative nod when he was stepping aside and allowing you to enter the main performance area. You were pausing at the top of the entrance way, eyes scanning over the large arena and feeling a bit sick considering how many seats were there and how few of them were empty.

You were starting to regret showing up and preparing to turn around and head back out before the show started but you were snapped out of your panic when your phone was ringing in your pocket. You were snatching it out in hopes that it was one of your friends trying to calm you down but your eyebrows furrowed when you saw it was an unknown number.

Finger hovering over the decline button, you had half the mind to consider the fact it might be Heeseung and you were answering it and putting it to your ear before you had a second to think about it.

“You actually came.” You immediately tensed up when the voice was filtering through the speaker, different and raspier but you knew who it was from the first word.

“How do you know I’m here?” You were dumbly asking and glancing around you like he was going to be standing in the shadows somewhere, frowning slightly when he laughed into the phone.

“He told them to alert him immediately if you ever showed up.” Jake was saying as an explanation and halfway confirming your suspicions about how long you’d been kept on the list despite never coming or reaching out to them. “And you’re finally here.”

“I’m not staying.” You were saying quickly and a rough edge seeped into your voice, something you hadn’t had last time he knew you but he also hadn’t been so cocky and demeaning last time you spoke to him so you were equal in that sense.

He was sighing softly and you paused at the sound, not expecting him to sound so defeated. You’d spoken to Jake more than the others over the years, only a few times but he had come home once or twice to visit family and it was hard to avoid him considering he actively was seeking you and the others out each time.

You weren’t really sure why he kept coming around and eventually you realized that he didn’t seem to know why either, looking more and more lost and less like himself every time you saw him. Jake was always so carefree and happy to be around that time you’d all spent together, genuinely seeming like he felt lucky for all of you and the music they were making together.

This new version of him was the most jarring to you out of everybody else because he had gotten sad and then he had gotten very very cold, almost angry every time you saw him and always feeling like he was on the edge of snapping.

You imagine that helped him out on the stage and you finally felt like he fit the rough drummer image that had been given to him by fans and media despite never making that connection yourself when you had known him. So to hear him sigh softly hearing that you were planning on leaving before they even performed, you were stopping in your tracks and finding yourself willing to hear him out.

“He doesn’t know you’re here yet and he’s driving himself so insane that he’s sick in the bathroom.” He was saying in a lower tone and you imagined that staff and other members were around him considering how soon the show was going to start. “No one can get him to come out but I have a feeling on who might.”

Tears were filling your eyes as he spoke about Heeseung’s condition but you were shaking your head in denial despite the fact he couldn’t see you, wiping your face with your sleeve before whispering back to him in a shaky tone. “I can’t do this Jake.”

“Please Y/N.” He was quickly retorting back and he sounded so similar to how he used to that you felt floored. His tone was genuine and filled with concern for his friend and you’d almost forgotten what he sounded like when he cared about something. “All these years you haven’t answered him, please don’t leave yet. Atleast get him on stage and then you can go and I’ll make sure he can’t find you for the rest of the time we’re here.”

Your breath was catching at the last half of his rushed statement and you were covering your mouth for a second with a shaky hand. It took you a few breaths to think of what to say and he stayed silent on the other line throughout it.

“Promise me.” You were mumbling out and clutching the device so hard you were worried it would crack, hearing nothing on the other side for a bit as your stomach bubbled with thick anxiety. “Promise me you’ll keep him away from me after this.”

It went silent again and you were almost positive that he had hung up the phone before he was speaking again in a defeated tone. “I promise.”

——

If you had gone back to the week before and told yourself that you’d be standing in a room with all of your old friends, you would’ve probably hid under the counter at work and begged future you to leave you alone.

You were trying your best to not showcase the fact that you were absolutely freaking out and filling with more and more devastation every time one of them spoke in their lifeless and annoyed tones, bickering behind you about the purpose of your presence and debating wether it was a good idea or not to allow you to be the one to try and gather Heeseung.

“He invited her for a reason Hoon.” Sunoo was sighing in your defense but he didn’t seem optimistic about it either, barely sparing you a glance since you walked through the door and anxiously checking his walkie talkie every few minutes to try and update the staff.

“Because he saw her yesterday and it fucked him up, he’s not in his right mind.” Jay was snapping before Sunghoon could answer for himself and you flinched at his loud tone, taking a step back when he was standing off the couch and throwing an arm in your general direction to emphasize that it was your fault.

You were frowning deeply at the accusation, not understanding how it could possibly be your fault that Heeseung was having a melt down especially when they didn’t seem that rare for him, his general anxiety and mental health another constant topic in the tabloids.

They continued to argue and you did your best to tune them out while simultaneously trying to ignore the fact Jungwon was silently staring at you from the corner and Jake was only a few feet away from you with his arms crossed. He hadn’t said much to come to your defense but he was continuously shooting you glances like he was trying to monitor your reactions.

You might as well have been in a room full of amped up strangers, possibly high as they paced and jittered about and a part of you felt like you were grieving now that you knew there would be no way to pretend things were still the same, no more pretending time was frozen and nothing had changed.

“Have any of you been able to calm him down this entire time?” You were suddenly asking from near the wall and it was the first time you’d spoken since you’d gotten in there.

The reaction was immediate and varying from each boy, half of them tensing up and looking more frustrated at the sound of your familiar voice and the others almost instantaneously losing the tension in their shoulders with softened eyes. It was like they hadn’t fully processed you being there until you spoke, talking around you in hypotheticals like you imagined they’d been doing over the years.

You wondered if you were a topic they were supposed to avoid mentioning like Heeseung had become for you. Then you selfishly wondered if they’d missed you at all.

Nobody answered for a while and then Jungwon was shaking his head softly, holding your gaze with a sympathetic look that caused you to nod in understanding. “Isn’t it worth a try then?”

“We have 15 minutes.” Sunghoon was saying in that same cold tone he’d been using but it held some level of defeat this time, slumping back into the couch and saying no form of the objection he had voiced so quickly earlier.

You were being directed to a hallway suddenly by Sunoo and before you could say anything or ask why he was ushering you out, he was hastily pointing to a door and scurrying off back towards the dressing room. You didn’t necessarily need him to explain, hearing the soft sobs and gags coming from behind the door now, but you wished he had given you a bit more time to collect yourself or think of something to say.

You took a deep breath and decided to not stall and try to gather some of the might you had the other night, pushing through the door and pausing once you were on the other side of it.

“If I have to tell you to fuck off one more time I’m going to get everybody in this shitty arena fired.”

Heeseung’s voice was coming from one of the stalls and your entire body locked up at the sound of it, never hearing him quite so angry before but also never hearing him sound so empty and wrecked. He was clearly holding back his sobs now that somebody was in there but you could see one of his leather boots poking into the stall next to his, laying on the floor and most likely clutching the toilet.

You were approaching the plastic door without saying anything and tugging on it softly once you were close to it, your fingers curling around the top of it and pulling it towards you with a small shake.

Heeseung’s words about the arena being shitty weren’t necessarily incorrect considering the lock on the door was immediately budging and it was flying open towards you, revealing you standing behind it to his swollen eyes and allowing you to see his frame curled up on the floor in a sickened despair.

He looked beyond surprised to see you and you were almost worried he was going to throw up again just from the shock of your arrival, his body locking up and then immediately tensing even more when you were taking a reluctant step inside the stall with him. You may have been practically strangers with a heavy history now but you still knew Heeseung better than you knew yourself most days and you felt that same comfort and familiarity as you always did.

So you were sinking to the dirty floor across from him and sighing softly, letting your head lean against the wall of the stall and glancing at him hesitantly.

“You came.” He was finally breathing out and his voice sounded tight because of your close proximity, not necessarily touching but the closest you’d been in almost half a decade. He was struggling to sit up but he eventually managed and stretched his legs out in your direction, both of you sitting in the same position across from each other.

“You invited me.” You whispered back to him with a small sad smile that was slipping away as fast as it came. “I was on the list.”

He didn’t laugh but you could tell he appreciated your attempts to lighten the situation, eyes softening slightly at the way your shoulders raised into a small casual shrug.

“What’s happening Heeseung?” You were asking him but you both knew what it was already and you felt just as sick as he looked as you said his name, almost feeling like a swear word as it fell from your lips naturally. “Why are we here right now?”

“You…” He was pausing as his voice shook and you watched him closely, not missing the way he was avoiding looking in your direction and instead staring down at the shaky hands that were picking at his fingers in his lap. “You stopped answering the letters, you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”

Your shoulders deflated as he spoke in a hurt voice, clearly being bothered by your lack of communication and not at all understanding why you had done it in the first place. You admit that it was a bit childish on your side to completely cut him off without a final conversation but you knew Heeseung would never just let you go like you needed.

“It was only supposed to be a few months Hee, you said you’d come home and you never did.” You tried to keep your tone less accusatory than his but you were also extremely hurt by what he had done.

You’d spend the entirety of your time with Heeseung making him your source of happiness and that was your first mistake because he was always bound to leave. He was always set after something much bigger than your town could ever offer but you guess a stupid part of you thought that you would be enough for him to stay.

You didn’t want him to give up his dreams, it was the entire reason you fell for him in the first place but you just wished time could stay frozen in that summer.

It’d been years and you still could feel him sitting next to you, never smoking with the others because you didn’t even though you knew he did it when you weren’t around. He was always supporting you like that and even though neither of you ever said it out loud, you knew he loved you too. It wasn’t his fault that he loved music more and you could never compare to the feeling it gave him but you tried your hardest.

Sometimes you thought it was working, when he’d come over after practice and you’d lay together in your backyard with its overgrown grass. You’d feel it tickling against your bare skin when you laughed at a stupid joke he made and rolled in the other direction clutching your stomach.

Other times you were once again hit with the reminder that he was only temporary, you’d see him zone out listening over and over to tracks he’d been producing or his eyes would go wide with amazement any time you went to a show that wasn’t his.

And you were completely right about him being temporary up until now, watching him sit across from you with that broken expression on his face that made you sick every time you locked eyes with him. You weren’t sure what exactly started his decline, you felt guilt for playing a large part in it but you didn’t think it would be much difference if you had stuck around his life anyways.

Maybe you would’ve begged him to come home when he started going to star filled parties, too many drugs to avoid and too much pressure to fit in to not indulge. Maybe you would’ve called Yoongi and demanded for a hiatus, giving you some time to come see him or bring him back home for a week or two to calm him and his system down.

Maybe you wouldn’t have ended up on the dirty floor of a public bathroom where he was vomiting his guts out just a few minutes ago. You could’ve been back in your long grass or pressed next to him on his dads old couch, still just as young and just as silently inlove with the boy with pretty pink hair and eyes so wide and amazed you couldn’t help but drink them in.

“I would’ve stayed.” He was finally forcing out the words necessary to snap you from your thoughts, the words you’d been considering for the past few years. “If you told me to stay I would have in a second.”

“And then what?” You were retorting quickly but your tone was weak and sad instead of bitter and iced over, shaking your head softly and giving him another sad smile and humorless laugh as you considered the option. “We grow old together with you secretly hating me for ruining your dreams, I live with the guilt of making you do that.”

“I could never hate you. Nothing could ever make me hate you, trust me I’ve tried.” His tone was the opposite of yours, aggressive and nasty as he spat out the words like they burned but you knew his anger wasn’t directed at you necessarily.

You let the two of you fall into an unfamiliar silence, giving him time to collect himself before he accidentally said something he’d eventually end up regretting even more than he already was.

He didn’t say anything either and he seemed to understand what you were doing, sighing out a shuttered breath before he was scooting forward across the floor until his knees were knocking against yours. You glanced up at him and your face fell at the exhausted look on his face, leaning forward similarly until you could wrap your hands around his and squeeze them tightly with your thumbs rubbing over his calloused skin.

Heeseung was sucking in a breath at the feeling of you touching him and then he was breaking into small hiccuped sobs that left you feeling heavy and lost on what you could do to help him.

You were letting yourself sink back into the past when you were moving forward even more so you could pull him closer towards you, his upper half practically in your lap now as you cradled his head and softly pet his damp hair that was dyed black now and messily falling into his eyes.

Your own eyes were falling shut and you were resting yourself on top of him, half hugging each other and half just giving up and letting the weight of his body and yours combine into a mess of limbs and heavy sobs. It was making you feel both better and worse, feeling him so close again but not knowing if it was the last time and also holding the knowledge that you’d missed such a large portion of time with him like this.

It wasn’t possible to get back everything you’d missed, it wasn’t possible to rewind and start over and you weren’t sure there was any way to prevent this amount of hurt anyways.

You could’ve asked him to stay with you all those years ago but then you’d never see that light within him again and you know it would always be on the back of his mind, his fingers and heart always aching for more than what you could give him and you’d stay up countless nights regretting making him give that up for you.

Maybe if you had answered his letters, picked up his relentless calls and heard him out when he didn’t come home. He could’ve had a good reason or maybe just hearing him finally say he loved you would be enough for you to handle the impossible distance.

So many what ifs that you’d never get the answer to because you weren’t there and you’d never get back there again no matter how much your heart still held onto the past and your love together.

Instead you were here and this was where the road with him had led you, cradling each other as the crowd cheered for him outside and it fell on your deaf ears. You knew he wasn’t going to let you go and you weren’t going to make him, you weren’t going to make him choose again and you didn’t know if that would be enough this time but you listened to him cry and prayed it would be.

Heeseung sung out a choir of sobs and gasps into your chest and you knew you would stay with him for as long as he needed you too, until his cries died down or your legs went numb.

Until the cheers fell into silence and the fans went home for the night disappointed, at least holding the knowledge that the music would still be there tomorrow.

You still weren’t positive that he was really here with you and he still felt as fleeting and temporary as he did when you first had met him, wide eyed and stuttered conversations. It was only a small flicker of hope and comfort that your love for him was the most permanent thing you’d ever experienced.

And that small flicker was more than enough for you.

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candypot · 5 months

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ 𝗩𝗜𝗟 𝗦𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗘𝗡𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗧 : ex with attachment issues headcanons

notes: came back with more cunty content about this cunty queen

|theres NSFW mentions on this post - don’t scroll if you’re a minor|

•Probably will resent you very much for wasting his precious time, but the scale of his harshness towards you depends on the breakup reason.

• At the worst case he'll throw some light shade at you whenever you happened to be in the same room as him. It would be too impolite to just directly address his displeasure with your presence, so expect just some indirect complaints about your "exaggerated perfume" or your "disrespect towards the school etiquette”. He'll make sure to bother just enough to satisfy his hurt ego, even though he knew deep down it was ridiculous for his image as a dorm leader.

• if the breakup reason was lighter, he'll just make sure to address you with indifference and politeness like he does with any other student of Night Raven College. You might feel some sharp glares towards you sometimes or a additional rigid breath, but he'll never bother you with such a nonsense because of his unattached persona.

• Surely won't bat an eye when you pass through him on the crowded corridors of the college, Vil was an excellent actor after all and he would do everything he could to hide how much you affected him with your absence.

• But this doesn't mean you should go around underestimating his peripheral vision, in the end the day his eyes were scanning every little corner with the hope of finding you somewhere.

• Also, don't get too careless thinking you can move on quickly after the break up. If you're even thinking about seeing someone else with less than two months, be aware that he's going to come back in your life just to torment you. Vil loves to remind you how good it was to have him as a partner in times like this and also how horrible it could be to lost him forever. He'll make sure to come back to you just to make sure you drop your other options before he pushes you away again.

• Make sure you're prepared to be dragged on a vicious cycle of affection and indifference depending on his mood of the day. He missed you so much... but he had to move on from that phase as quick as possible for the sake of his career... but you had to understand that you were made to be his... but he also should stop pampering you so much after such mediocre relationship…. but you also should be more considerate with his feelings, you guys had story together... but seriously! you had to stop being so overly sensitive and leave him alone when he needed. It would be a endless and torturing cycle for the both of you, he wanted to feel worth your attention and at the same time make sure you knew what you had lost.

• Would try to push the thoughts of you to the back of his mind with the practice of physical exercise. It was honestly so stressing to not being able to focus on anything after that awful break up with such a common person! He had to clear his mind up with something or at least be tired enough to not think about it (he would probably dream about you anyway).

• Maybe he could even start seeing a therapist to read more deeply into this strange addiction he had of you. The other alternatives weren't helping to clean his mind anymore and he could notice how physically and emotionally draining it was getting to not understand his feeling towards you.

• Shamefully, hate sex would probably be a thing. It was so so so humiliating to have his thoughts wandering around you and the heated moments you guys shared together... his bed seemed so empty without your warm body trembling bellow him (or on top of him). He was so dumb to even bring you to his room in first place! How could he even sleep in such a place after all you had done in those sheets? Now it was almost as necessary as oxygen to have your lowly presence by his side again, he needed to feel your grotesque hands on him and your petulant mouth on his.

• The whole experience would be very humiliating for the both of you, nor him nor you would have the gut to admit you were constantly seeking each other behind that hatful facade. At some point, people wouldn't even bother to understand your current status of relationship anymore. Even Rook, which was the biggest stalker supporter of the both of you was tired of listening those well know noises from his roi du poison's room.

#twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #twst headcanons #vil shoenheit x reader #vil x reader #twst smut #twst x reader #twst #twst hcs #twst wonderland

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ranticore · 7 months

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hits u with my dragon beam

tha boys and their dragons from the au i am self-indulgently messing with. green, bronze, and brown. these are scaled to their actual sizes relative to one another & their riders.

reasoning/more info under the cut. when i say 'niche audience' i mean the approximately One Person who knows my characters and has also read a pern book (me. i'm the one person it's me)

Féiix is a green rider obvs. I think it's really generous of dragons to have a colour specifically for bottoms. Her name is Estibarith and she ends up committing matricide by stubbornly rising at the same time as queen Lenath, to protest the weyrwoman's abusive treatment of her rider. Estibarith is legendarily short-tempered and protective, and although her rider might continually reassure her that his arrangement with the weyrwoman (as her personal spy; he is an ex-harper) is healthy, Estibarith has other ideas. She is quite good at precise hops between, which is how she manages to bait Lenath into flying head first into a mountainside.

Islin's bronze Taranth is very big, very gentle, and completely unwilling to do his duty as a bronze in any capacity at all. He has a... complicated relationship with Lenath and endures a good amount of ridicule, but Islin is adamant that he will never make a bid for weyrleader as this involves sleeping with the weyrwoman and queen (he'll settle for being wingleader). A strong disagreement over Félix's spywork and loyalty to Lenath leads Islin and Taranth to walk out from their weyr, and operate out of a different base for years before Lenath ultimately dies from failing to compete with Searrath on a mating flight. He is the only bronze rider who is not originally from a weyr.

Francis's brown Nllath was almost killed by Lenath when he hatched. As the son of the newly-ousted ex-weyrleader, Francis could have easily impressed a bronze and ousted the current weyrleader, so the weyrwoman conspired to prevent it from happening. Lenath broke Nellath's leg during the hatching, and only the invervention of Francis's father's bronze saved both himself and the injured hatchling from what appeared to be the queen's random fit of infanticidal rage. Nellath recovered well and became a very popular brown dragon and an impressively good shot with his flames. He has attempted several times to chase a queen (usually one of the juniors, still a little wary of Lenath), and has even succeeded more than once. Francis and Nellath support one of those junior queens during an attempted ousting of Lenath and the weyrwoman, but never expected that Félix's loyalty to the weyrwoman would separate them for years (until Lenath goes out carcrash style against a mountainside, as previously mentioned)

It's my first time trying to write a full conspiracy over the course of the characters' lifetimes so it's pretty fun!

#sorry it's literally impossible to make this make sense to anyone but me. take my word for it okay #mvf

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muddyorbsblr · 7 months

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the warmest bed i've ever known

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: dating era; a few days after 'when the feeling sinks in'

Summary: Tom has convinced you to go back to London with him for a few weeks, and a photo of you two out and about together has opinions firing left and right.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings (spoilers ahead): language; big hater behavior towards Reader; attempted breakup; angst; brief mentions of past bullying [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Tomathy fully in his comforting precious bf era

Numb.

That was the only word that came to mind right now to describe what you felt, staring at your screen with all the hateful vile words that people who didn't even know you were flinging your way. And all because of the man you were dating. And how much you looked like a downgrade compared to his ex.

Then again it really shouldn't have surprised you, considering the turn your life had taken in the last few months. Hell, the last few days. There was really no other way for these nameless faceless spineless people to react when the man you'd started dating was none other than Tom Hiddleston.

And the figuratively ridiculously large shoes you had to fill considering the rising power of said ex…was Taylor Swift's.

You shouldn't have gone online. Checked Twitter. Checked anything, really. They rarely if ever had anything good to say, it was a special kind of stupid and naive for you to think that someway somehow you and your relationship were going to be the exception to the vitriolic rule.

Now here you were, screechy voices filling your mind, spitting out the words that your eyes scanned when you opened the cesspool of a sight.

Nothing special

Unremarkable

Fucking stab my eyes out with a rusty fork ugly

To be completely fair, you'd seen worse when you were still in school, every day inundated with the mocking words that sociopaths with hormones on overdrive wielded recklessly like a goddamn balisong without care that the person on the receiving end was actually a person. And if that was the shitshow you experienced from people brave enough to sign those sentiments with their name and say it to your face with chests fully puffed out, then the bravery of these people when they were all snuggled up under the protective cover of anonymity really shouldn't have shocked you.

Finding out who they were behind the screen and dealing out retribution on your own terms would have been a simple enough task. After all, you'd done it before, and even with the current advancements in technology and the tighter security protocols centered around protecting user data, you still managed to keep a few tricks in your bag that you could whip out if the need ever arose.

There was just one thing that stopped you from doing just that. A part of you agreed with the vicious comments. It was easy enough to ignore when people in school were just making hateful pages about how you sucked and how no one would ever genuinely like you. Or when they made pages pretending to be you so that they could dole out their paltry attempts at trying to ruin what little reputation you had at the time.

When you dealt with them on that comparatively smaller scale, it became easy to numb yourself to their words, drown them out until they were just white noise in the background, keeping you focused on the path you laid out for yourself rather than distracting you. It gave you a drive to work harder and better so that you could get as far away from them as possible.

On this scale, the background noise was so strong, so loud and overwhelming that every step you took to fight it seemed to take every ounce of your strength. It felt like there was no way out. You couldn't just hunker down and work hard so that you could get away from it all this time. And you couldn't exactly ignore them, either.

How could you? When they were voicing with pinpoint accuracy every insecurity that plagued you ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend a few days ago. Ever since your first night with him months ago.

So is this some sort of Make-A-Wish thing? That's it, right? She's on her last few months and she wanted to live them in delusion?

Fifty bucks says Tom's active on Raya right now. Quick someone send me an invite link I wanna shoot my shot. Tommy don't worry baby I'll save you from whatever the fuck mistake you got yourself into.

How the fuck do you go from Taylor Swift to that?

The most prevalent remarks in the last few hours had to do with a sighting of you sitting on a park bench, working on creating a wardrobe piece for an upcoming show that, if all went well, would start filming in a few years. The book author and the prospective showrunner got in contact with you after a glowing recommendation from Taika, and they talked about struggling to find the perfect scarf that would serve as one of the series' focal points.

After a few discussions and so many skeins of yarn that there was now an oversized tote bag in your hotel room overflowing with various shades of dark teal and peacock blue, you started crocheting a sample size of the pattern to show the author later on in the afternoon before you went to meet Tom for dinner. And that was how you were spotted this morning, sitting quietly on the bench, eyes on your project while your boyfriend was taking Bobby for a walk.

And for some reason the internet was up in arms over that,

Are you really fucking telling me this boring ass bitch that's giving old lady crocheting a goddamn scarf is fucking riding the God of Mischief every day? Nuh uh nope I don't believe that. Our Tommy deserves someone fun, and actually fucking pays attention to him and not a ball of yarn. Our baby deserves so much better than this.

You stared at the desk in front of you, your sample scarf to the left, and your laptop at the center, the screen now black from inactivity. You couldn't bother to move to check the time; your reminder would ring when your call would start. All you could bring yourself to do was remain exactly as you were, knees drawn to your chest with your arms around your legs, shaking and doing your damnedest not to break out into sobs over the knowledge of what you were about to do as soon as the door opened.

It was a good run, you told yourself. More than I deserved.

The sound of the front door opening jolted you back to reality, the voices finally dying down somewhat. Unfortunately, hearing Tom's voice started the voices right back up again.

"Y/N, darling, have you finished with your call? I was hoping we could go out tonight for dinner and--" His words stopped abruptly once he got to his study, seeing you in the position you'd been in for the last few hours, and immediately rushed to your side, crouching in front of you and taking your hands in his. "What's wrong, goddess?"

"I uhh…I have to go back to Los Angeles. I'm gonna see if I can make the next flight back." You didn't dare meet his eyes, still trying to hold back any tears.

He let out a breath, sounding almost relieved before he pressed a kiss to your hands. "That shouldn't be much of a problem, I can pack a bag and we can be on the next flight out--"

"No," you cut him off, wincing at your tone. "I'm going alone. There's no need for you to go with me, I'm sure you have some other things to do here. Better things."

There was a slight tremor in his hand as he cupped your face, gently turning your head to look at him. He took a shuddering breath seeing the tears swimming in your eyes. "What's happening right now, sweetheart? Please. I don't understand what could have brought this on, we had a lovely morning--"

"I thought I could do this," you choked out, finding it difficult to form coherent words without starting to blubber. "I thought I could drown the voices out, not let them get to me but…they're too loud. They're ruthless and vile and they have megaphones and they're right." You shook your head to turn away from him, burying your face between your knees, the all too familiar feeling of shame flooding your system, shrouding over you like an overly weighted blanket. "I'm not strong enough to do this with you. And you deserve someone better than me."

You took your laptop off of Standby, your screen illuminating and showing him the harsh words that had been haunting you since you stupidly decided to check the internet just minutes after he left the house. He began to visibly tense as his eyes scanned the pages seeing all the hateful things literal strangers had to say about your relationship.

"Look we gave it a shot," you tried to tell him, making a motion to get out of the chair which made him put his hands on the armrests, effectively keeping you in place. "But I think it's time to call it. I'm not good for you, and you deserve someone--"

"No." His tone was low and resolute, hands staying firmly on the chair, refusing to let you go anywhere. From a certain perspective, it was a smart enough move, considering that if he let you go right now, you'd probably sprint out the door in the name of doing what you thought would be best for him. Even if it meant ripping your own heart out in the process. "This can't be over already, we've only just begun. The time I've had with you has been extraordinary and I know that if we keep going, it'll get even better. You've made me so happy and--"

"You'll find someone that makes you happier," you dumbly shot back, the sentiment hitting you so hard that the tears finally began to fall. Even the thought of him potentially moving on so quickly after this already had you ready to sob. "Someone stronger. Someone that can handle all of this or hell someone they'll actually like--"

"Those people don't care for my happiness," he said in a rush, tears filling his eyes as well. "No matter what I do, there's always going to be someone hateful that has something to say, and they'll always think they're right. It's so clear that they don't give a damn about what actually makes me happy because if they did, they wouldn't be saying these disgusting lies about you, trying to get into your head."

There was a desperation in his tone that tore at your heart; no part of you wanted to do this. But seeing every single insecurity that you'd had ever since you said yes to being his girlfriend, yes to going to London with him for a few weeks, and generally just yes to spending the next few however months of your life with him, all laid out in print echoed by so many others? You knew he deserved better than this, better than someone that would ultimately have to be hidden away so that these people would stop coming for his throat for his 'poor choices'.

And when you knew that what would be best for the man you ached to give your heart to was to actually tuck your heart away and run, how selfish would it be for you to do the opposite?

The feel of his hands framing your face brought you back to your thoughts, the frantic pleading look on his face robbing you of your breath. "Do you want to leave, Y/N?" You wanted to scream No of course I don't, I want to stay with you. But you found yourself unable to form words. All you could do was shake your head as more tears fell from your eyes.

He pressed his lips to yours, pulling you into his arms the second you crossed your hands behind his neck and lifting you out of your seat. He didn't break the kiss until he'd carried you to his bedroom, setting you down on the edge of the bed. Then he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before sinking to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his.

"Then don't leave. Stay with me. We'll stay in and stay away from prying eyes so nobody gets to say anything about you, we'll--"

"You shouldn't have to make adjustments in your life for the sake of making me comfortable," you argued. "You should be with someone that can face all of this, not cower in a corner licking her wounds needing to be protected if she so much as gets seen stepping out of your house like some tiny helpless baby animal. You deserve to be with someone you can share everything with, without the worry of people shooting you down just because I'm not pretty enough or tall enough for them. You can have anything and everything you want with a snap of your fingers, I'm sure it won't be that hard to find someone that--"

Tom stopped you from letting out another word, holding you by the back of your head and pulling you to him for a desperate kiss. "I don't want anyone else, I want you. I don't give a fuck what anyone else wants to think about how I choose to spend my life and who I choose to share it with, because I know better. You're enough, you're more than enough. And if a few precautions and adjustments have to be made to make sure they can't get to you, then I'm more than happy to do all that and more.

"Our first night together I told you I just want you. As you are. That I want to make you happy." He rose from his knees, pressing a kiss to your cheek and working his way to your ear. "That I want to satisfy you. Do you remember?" You could only nod, trying and failing not to melt against him as he kissed below your ear. "I'm going to add that list of wants now. I want to make sure you feel safe, with every means I have at my disposal."

He guided you down until your back was flat on the mattress, kissing down your neck as he did so, his lips trailing a path down to just over your heart. You found it near impossible to breathe, finding yourself overwhelmed with how gentle and tender he was handling you.

"I want to love you," he said, meeting your eyes with a look that you could only describe as surrender. "I know you're not ready to hear it yet, but this can't wait anymore. You need to hear it. You need to know that the only way for me to actually have everything that I want is if I get to share everything I have with you. I need you to know that your leaving would rip my heart out." He made his way back up, stopping when your faces were mere inches apart. "I need you to know who you'd be leaving." He brushed his lips across yours in a featherlight kiss. "You would be leaving a man so completely, so desperately in love with you."

You tried to speak, but all you could manage was inaudibly mouthing his name, the sentiment you tried to stomp down just a little over a week ago fighting its way back up to the surface. Practically shouting from the back of your throat.

"I love you," he breathed out. "Please, sweetheart. Don't do this. Don't leave. Whatever you want, whatever you need so that we can make this work, we'll find our way through this together just please…I'm begging you don't tell me that what you want is to rid yourself of me--"

"That's the last thing I want," you managed to choke out, your eyes stinging with even more tears. You swallowed the lump in your throat, mustering every ounce of strength you had left to finally say the sentiment you prematurely blurted out when he first popped up at your house. "I love you, too."

You woke up the next morning the same way you'd been ever since you and Tom first got together, his arm wrapped around you, the butterflies fluttering violently in your stomach from how he held your body against his without a stitch of clothing between you two, along with the tender kisses he peppered along your shoulder. It was a routine you'd not only found yourself getting comfortable with, but you were looking forward to it whenever you felt yourself rousing from sleep.

And that part scared the living daylights out of you.

Relationships? Routines? Your mind wandering to that place that you said you never dared think about in the context of being in any kind of relationship again, because the last time you did, the rug got pulled out from under you and threw your life and the future you envisioned into a blender?

You swore to yourself that day all those years ago that you were never going to let yourself get this comfortable. That you would always have your safety measures in place so that you never had to worry about having to scramble your way back up to your feet without any sense of direction.

And you did. You had your measures. You had your walls up. You put your heart under lock and key and said you'd never give it to someone again. Yet here you were, basically opening the chest and telling Tom that it was right there for the taking.

A chest you couldn't close again even if you tried. Even if you wanted to.

The feel of his lips pressing a kiss between your neck and shoulder had you letting out a tiny whimper, making him smile and hum against your skin. "Good morning, goddess."

You were growing concerningly comfortable with that, too.

He moved you until you were lying with your back flat on the mattress, brushing his nose across yours as he gave you a contented smile. "I love you."

You couldn't help the smile that stretched across your own face hearing the words. "Hmm…careful, you keep talking like that I might get used to it."

He laid his lips on yours, giving you a tender kiss as he gently ran his hand down the side of your body before stopping at your hip, his thumb stroking your skin. "I want you to get used to it, because I'll be saying it a lot from now on." His lips traced a line down to the base of your throat. "I love you," he murmured against your skin repeatedly as he kissed along your collarbone.

"I love you, too," you whimpered as he kissed his way down to your stomach, his shaky exhale warming your skin even more. You placed your hand on his shoulder, leading him to refocus his attention to kissing his way up your arm. "I really stepped on the ledge yesterday…" you trailed off, struggling to take a deep breath as you tried to find the words, ultimately settling on the simplest ones. You weren't likely to find better words anyways. "Thank you for talking me off of it."

He took his time kissing his way back up to your lips, never breaking eye contact. "Always, my love." The new endearment, paired with the way he tenderly kissed your lips, had your head spinning. "I'm going out to get us some breakfast. I'll be back in an hour. Go back to sleep, sweetheart."

Those words had you stirring, making a motion to sit up on the bed. "What? No, you don't need to do that, you'll get papped. Gimme a few minutes to get dressed, I'll do it."

"If you go out, they'll photograph you, too," he argued. "Pictures of us are still fresh on their minds, which means these vultures are still very much on the lookout for you out and about, waiting to take pictures in hopes of selling them to the sleaziest gossip sites. Give it a week, maybe two, and they'll refocus their attention on someone else. Them and the internet."

You slumped back into the bed with a soft thud, surrendering to the fact that unfortunately, the logic made sense. You needed a good few days to let your face and those photos fade into relative irrelevancy. "You probably need your team to spin some story on why we were seen together, too," you sighed, the discomfort of having to let the wheels turn in your head before you've even had a bite of food or a sip of coffee starting to make you skittish. "I mean, the saying goes that we can't put the genie back in the bottle, but what if it isn't fully out yet? We still have a chance to…I don't know, mitigate the situation?"

Tom rested his forehead against yours, letting out a deep sigh as he laid back down on the bed as well, pulling you into his arms so that your head rested on his chest. "One day it won't be this toxic."

His words had you giggling, looking up at him and pressing a kiss to his chin. "It's adorable that you think that, but no. But one day maybe the voices of those who would genuinely just be happy for you would be louder than these snakes in the pit with their megaphones. And maybe one day I'll be strong enough to not give a fuck about any of it."

He tightened his hold on you, arms snaking around your body in an embrace that had you falling even more into that dangerous place of way too damn comfortable. "Until then I'm going to do what I can to keep you safe. It'll only be a few weeks at most. Maybe less if we're lucky and someone causes a scandal." He pressed numerous soft kisses to the tip of your nose, breaking out into a smile when his attentions caused you to let out a soft giggle. "For now, I get to keep you in the house. All to myself." His smile turned into a mischievous grin as he rolled you on to your back, rasping the next words, "Like my own beautiful brilliant little captive."

"A very willing captive," you shot back, once again going breathless when he started kissing you all over your neck and chest. "Be careful out there? Don't let them get a reaction out of you, no matter what they ask. Or what they say about me."

"I will," he mumbled, humming against your skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses along the side of your body, nipping at your waist before pulling away. He made his way to his closet, shooting a playful knowing glance at you when he saw how you propped yourself up on your elbows to enjoy the view. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart," he chuckled, throwing on his usual running gear of a black t-shirt with the Legendary logo and black shorts that were definitely a size too small with how the garment hugged and accentuated his hips and upper thighs. Not to mention how those shorts made it all too obvious that your boyfriend happily and proudly chooses neither when it came to the age-old debate of boxers or briefs.

He walked back toward the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning over you to capture your lips in a heated kiss, as if it had been weeks since he'd done it last rather than mere minutes. His hand freely roamed your side, lightly grasping at your hips while he slowly laid you back down flat on the bed. Once he had, he broke the kiss to press his lips to the tip of your nose, then to your forehead.

"I'll wake you when I'm back home. Promise me you won't check on those pages again. None of them deserve our time, or our emotions. I love you, goddess."

"I promise. I love you, too."

A/N: Welcome to the second part of the 'said it first' arc! This would probably be the angstiest moment in their entire relationship and precious bf meow meow really answered her "I'm leaving" with "No ur not I love u 🥺" and we love him for it your honor

Three more parts to this arc and hopefully I can pull myself out of playing my lil games long enough to actually get to writing any of the pieces in my rotation 😅🫡

Here's a gif for everyone who reads 'til the end of the post…this be what the blorbos were like in that last scene:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

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thesharktanksdriver · 5 days

Text

Star covered hug booth (platonic)

Not canon but just some plane what if fun based on an ask from awhile back. Also sorry I’ve been inactive I’ve had some burnout as of late alongside starting second year university lol

Send me asks for characters you’d like to see hug Determination! Y/n

Masterlist for determination!

In life Nami had many things she has come to love.

For one she loved her mom Bellemere and sister Nojiko (as well as Genzo, a man who was the only father-figure she had in her life despite how she butted heads with him). Nami loved them wholeheartedly, loved them so deeply she sacrificed her childhood to ensure Bellemere’s sacrifice was not in vain.

She loved Cocoyashi. Loved the quaint island village she called home, the old beaten paths she’d chart on her first mock maps. Loved its people that despite having their pockets nicked by her small nimble hands still cared for her (only years later did she learn that many would let her get away with taking their wallets and would give Bellemere discounts for things she needed).

She loved tangerines and oranges. The smell of them lingered on her and in her dreams as the soft memories of that home on a cliffside played in her mind. The sweet taste that stuck to her tongue, the white blossoms in the spring and the color that matched the sunsets that she would peer out at through windows.

She loved money, she felt more secure with it after the years of barely scraping by and being extorted. Liked being able to provide for herself things that seemed more like a childish dream rather than a reality. Nami liked buying clothes, jewels, supplies and things for everyone on board even if they had not noticed. She also used it as a way to tie people to her, by having a “debt” it meant that they would not leave her (even if in her mind she knows they won’t).

And most of all Nami loved her crew.

Nami loved the idiot she called a captain. Dressed in flip flops and his raggedy straw hat sitting like a crown atop messy raven hair along with a stretched out smile across his face.

loved the moss haired swordsman without a sense of direction. How loyalty ran through his blood and his unwavering spirit in spite of the situations they ended up in.

Loved the blond haired cook who went out of his way to feed the crew with a grin. A cigarette hung limply on his lips whilst he handed off Hand made drinks specially catered to individual tastes.

Loved the long nosed cowardly sniper who she leant on for support as one of the only sane ones left on this crew. Their shared dry remarks on ridiculous situations before laughter replaced it.

Loved the blue nosed little doctor that plastered wounds with bandaids with their Jolly Roger. His bursts of bashfulness at being told he did a good job and his love of all things pink and sweet.

Loved the calm and cool historian who never failed to make her feel appreciated. The woman who never asks about the nightmares (nor does Nami ask about her own) but instead silently comfort each other.

Loved the shipwright with flashy chains and a steel hard smile. The man who puts love into their vassal with each nail and board while making unconventional machines that make everyone else smile.

Loved the joke making skeleton with annoying questions but with the soul of a true musician. Ivory bones drifting along similarly ivory keys whilst the crew listened to his songs of old.

Loved the reserved yet hearty presence of the helmsman that helps her through her trauma of fish and scales. The way he uses graceful movements of his karate that’s used to water her tangerines before he splashes a nearby Luffy.

And finally Nami loved the starry-eyed storyteller of the crew. The cherub face of an old soul that has seen too much of the world and has yet to change. A child stuck to watch the world around them change, telling the stories lost to time and later their own mind.

Nami loved her crew.

Maybe that was a bit of an understatement, but the point still stands.

…..but god did she sometimes loath their spending habits which leads her to this situation now.

As the only person on this damn boat with any Handle on money (besides Sanji when he’s not head over heels) she can’t help but want to bash her head in. Because along with being the navigator she handles the money, but evidently that didn’t matter to her stupid (affectionate) crew mates.

No Luffy you can’t buy 5 tons of meat just because your hungry.

No Zoro you can’t buy an oceans worth of booze because you feel like it.

No Sanji you can’t just buy every woman in a crowd a necklace because their “angels sent by heaven”.

No Ussop you can’t just buy a bunch of random supplies for your bombs half that stuff doesn’t make sense.

No chopper you can’t stalk up on cotton candy…the medical supplies is allowed though knowing this crew.

No Robin you can’t have another library on board when our room is already stacked from top to bottom in books.

No Franky for the love of god please stop buying supplies for robots we already have enough of them.

No Brook you don’t need a glass piano we already have 3 different pianos on the sunny.

No jimbe…actually no Jimbe your good because you're actually an responsible adult…wait why do you have so many Hawaii shirts-

And finally you. The only person on this crew who sticks to the budget but never actually buys anything for themself. Honestly she’d be happy if you went over budget and got yourself something, but she knows that’ll happen when Luffy becomes a vegetarian.

Nami loves her crew but god does that seem to screw her over.

They barely had enough to afford supplies at the next port, and though stealing wasn’t off the table laying low would be nice. Especially since her idiot of a captain just had to make a ruckus recently and have a good portion of the marines on their tail.

She’d really like to avoid another jailbreak.

So with that in mind she needed cash quickly.

And with that formed various schemes and ideas.

Form a mlm? Nah too much time to invest in.

Rob a bank? Too much attention.

Form a big distraction and then rob people blind? Shed and most of the crew would avoid doing that to civilians if possible.

And with all those x’d out ideas in mind she finally came to one that seemed plausible.

Somehow you had gained the friendship of many people over your many years of living. From almost all the warlords to Yonko’s and even admirals.

And knowing this Nami’s mind started a scheme. One that left her conflicted.

Because as much as their finances needed it, she wasn’t alright if it made you uncomfortable.

===

It’s partially halfway to their next destination that Nami sits herself next to you whilst you watch the waves. They lapped over one another, folding into the endless blue complimented by bubbling white foam. The sight never seemed to grow old to your eyes, even after so many years of watching the same sight once more as the day continued in its mellowness.

Normally someone of the crew would come to join you so it’s not too surprising when Nami joins.

But what is surprising is when she speaks up instead of continuing in sweet silence.

“We’re low on funds and I had an idea” she starts slowly, she picks beneath her nails, a nervous habit of hers. You noticed it quite easily, for as much as Nami wanted to look like she’s calm and in control you’d alway noticed the cracks in her resolve. It’s what you respected about her. The way she always tried to act like a pillar for others to lean on even when she was as brittle and scared as everyone else.

“Sure thing” you say, still looking out towards the waves.

“But you didn’t-“

“Nami I trust you.”

You think that for a moment that breaks her, shattering her heart into thousands of tiny pieces. Though that should hardly be surprising to her, because of course you trusted her. She was your navigator, your friend. You had every reason to, yet still it resonates within her deeply.

“You didn’t even hear what it was” her tone is slightly chiding, yet lingering fear still makes itself known despite your previous comment. “I had the idea for a hug booth…you know so many people who’d go to the end of the earth for you” she seems slightly uncomfortable saying this, as if slightly upset at herself.

“Yeah sure thing.” You say once more.

Instead of silence though you're met by her ocher brown eyes.

Nami places her hands gently on your shoulders, getting down on a knee to look you in the eye on your level. She looks for apprehension, yet finds none.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asks this with a tone that indicates how serious she is “if you're not that’s fine and I can think of something else. But I need to know if you're ok with this.”.

She watches a smile cross your face, small hands that were soft yet should be weathered over the years and years you’d been alive gently cupping her cheeks. You’d done this before to ground her, those nights filled with nightmares of Arlong that left her crying and grasping for anything to hold. The ones where she’d desperately want to curl up and disappear into herself, the ones where she'd look to her shoulder and still see the tattoo beneath the cover up.

It was a gesture of sincerity.

“I’m alright with it, Nami.”

Your eyes sparkle.

“I would’ve said I wasn’t if I was. Besides, I’m looking forward to seeing who shows up! Plus it’ll be nice to see some old friends again”

At that Nami nods, a shaky breath leaving her as she stands back up. She swallows down the last bit of fear and anxiety about pushing you to do something that would make you uncomfortable.

And then her game face quickly takes over.

Her head snaps towards Usopp and Franky’s direction.

“Get to work on advertisements and a booth pronto. You’ll get a bigger cut in the budget I’ve set”

===

On the grand line there was a small island that was considered an odd outlier to that of many other islands.

The island of “plote devi’cee” was one that served as a neutral ground for both marines and pirates alike. It started decades ago due to a legend, a daughter of a marine falling in love with a pirate. The meeting of the boyfriend and dad didn’t go well as expected, the boyfriend ended up dead as did the dad which left the girl heartbroken and supposedly cursing the island.

So long as pirates or marines stepped foot on its soil no fights could happen.

Lest they suffer like the poor fools all those years ago who had their ships decimated via sea kings and such bad weather that the ship capsized.

This is important due to the fact that it was the perfect place to set up shop.

You’d been to this place a few times before, so when mentioning it to Nami for this money making scheme it seemed like the only logical place it could work.

With the pamphlets handed out via news birds and your crows they’d inevitably end up at Marineford. So better to be on neutral territory for both marine and pirates without having the operation busted.

So with that in mind and the sunny docked Nami took quickly to setting up shop.

The small booth Franky constructed stood proud and strong atop a small hill just outside the village of the island. Just far enough out of the way as to not disturb their peaceful lives as you sat in your booth waiting. Drapes of cloth created a small doorway and privacy for you and the future customers. Mostly since you’d known this would likely get emotional for more than a few people (perhaps even yourself). Now thinking about it though, it seemed more like a tent and booth but “y/n’s hug booth” was definitely more of a zinger.

Just outside holding a large set of jars were Sanji and Zoro, your “guards” and debt collectors for Nami. Behind your stand was Robin sitting in a small sun chair. An ear inside the booth to listen for the secret sign of you being uncomfortable, 3 taps on the wood and then it would be the signal for zoro and Sanji to drag off whoever was inside.

It wasn’t fully fool proof but it was enough for you to be comfortable enough.

And so you wait.

But it seems not for long as you hear the exasperated murmur of Nami not far away from the booth.

“That’s a lot of ships”.

Seems like the hugging shall begin.

Boa Hancock

Before even seeing the curtain open, you hear Sanji’s commotion of “my eyes have been blessed by a goddess-“ before a subsequent thwack sound resonating in the air. You're not sure who hit Sanj whether From Zoro, Nami or Boa herself but the curtain opens and there enters the empress of the Amazon Lily herself.

The proclaimed most beautiful woman in the world and snake princess warlord.

She sits down, posed and perfect on the small stool. Long legs crossed as you watch the apathy from her face fade at now being in private with you.

It’s odd for you to see her public persona of uncaring, cruel and selfish. Not when you know at heart she’s a girl who’s been victim to the most vicious of cruelties. A woman who longs to be kind yet cannot face being hurt once more, someone who’d rather push those closest away if it ensured their safety.

It’s why you smile when a soft expression covers her face.

“Sorry if Sanji gave you trouble, he’s a massive flirt…and a simp. He means well though, just takes a bit far sometimes” you say a little exasperated as you rub the back of your neck. She gives a small chuckle, the sound of it is soft and pretty like wind chimes and birdsong.

“He’s a man, I’ve dealt with plenty worse.” It comes off as slightly mocking towards the blond, though you’d let it slide knowing her experience with men…plus as much as you loved Sanji he was a bit over the top “besides, I came here to see you.”.

“I must be lucky then. Having been graced with the presence of an empress” the tone is accented by a slight giggle. One that she mirrors with a true smile, one not marred by fakeness or lies, just genuine.

“It’s…it’s good to see you again”

“It’s good to see you too Hancock”

You open your arms, and she reaches forwards to warp you in her own.

Her hug is stiff at first, as if she had not felt the comfort of arms holding her in a very long time and still trying to uphold her mask of stone cold empress. But much like her mask, it cracks and breaks.

What once was stiff arms much like when she petrified people circled around you soon melts.

She pulls you closer, resting her head atop your shoulder as she just holds you and you hold her.

The floral scent of the Amazon lily creates a pleasant smell that wafts within the tent. Roses, peonies, lilacs and of course Lillie’s tickle your nose. It’s much different from your scent of sea salt and dust covered books.

It takes a moment but you quickly begin to hear soft sobs leave her. Tears trailing down and making your shoulder dampen.

You don’t mind.

You just pat her head as gently as you can.

Once more Boa Hancock does not feel like a heartless warlord nor a scared little girl huddled in a cell.

Boa was just Boa.

She was more than the beauty, the power or the brand on her back.

She was more than just her body.

And that’s more priceless than anything she could ever imagine.

“Thank you” her voice is quiet and gentle, something few people would ever have the luxury of hearing.

“No need to thank me Boa.”

To her, your hug signifies a genuine love. One not of romance that clouds the eyes of her fanatic nor of lust that clouds the eyes of men. Your love was Just the love of a friend.

The love of the person behind her facade.

You see her gentle heart and hold it with equal gentle hands.

“You can always turn to me if you need it, can always use my shoulder to cry on. It doesn’t make you weak, it only makes you stronger”

Mihawk Dracule

His appearance at the booth is as cryptic and abrupt just as his appearance of his boat on the sea is.

It’s abrupt.

Expected.

And to everyone but you (and maybe Zoro) it’s an unpleasant surprise.

One that should be bound for bloodshed yet creates a certain tinge of happiness as he closes the curtains behind him and sits down on the small chair facing you.

Yoru being leant against the chair.

A small and subtle sign that he feels at ease with you.

…or at least didn’t see you as a threat. (It was hard to tell with him)

“It’s good to see you again Mihawk, how has the traveling been?” You say this while leaning against your palm that rested on the stand.

Golden ringed eyes stare at you, for a moment you can distinguish a crinkle of affection.

“They’ve been monotonous as usual. Overzealous fools who think they can challenge me”

“An, so like zoro?”

He chuckles at that, distantly outside the tent you hear a distinct “Oi!” Before the sounds of Sanji kicking him. Their bickering fades into the background as Nami presumably dragged them away.

Mihawk leans over, and suddenly you're enveloped in his arms. It’s perhaps a bit unexpected, though with Mihawk things were always a gamble. You half anticipated for him to leave without a hug, but seeing that he hadn’t made you all the more happier.

Mihawk's hug feels secure and protective, as if he were a shield to the rest of the world and its hardships.

Hands that have seen endless fighting and held the hilt of blood a rusted sword hold you.

His hold is not gentle but it is perhaps the softest Mihawk could ever be.

And that’s ok.

Because in his hold it feels as if you're safe.

That he would take on the world to ensure that even when you’d left his arms you’d never have to worry.

And while that’s a far off dream, knowing Mihawk he’d try.

And that’s perhaps the most comforting thought behind it all.

Mihawk would try for you if you’d ask.

If you’d ask, you could have stayed at his abode.

If you’d asked he would do all that he could to ensure you’d never have to die and reappear again.

But he’d only do that if you’d ask.

He didn’t make that decision for you.

Didn’t decide that his judgment was better than yours and impede on your ability to make decisions.

He might have disagreed with some of your decisions but he respected you to make them.

And even more so, he respected you even if he was wrong.

He would never admit to it, but in those few moments you’d proven him wrong a certain pride shone in eagle eyes.

A certain uplift of the corner of his mouth.

“The humandrills miss you…I have a room open if you’d ever require it” it’s said quietly, like a secret exchanged beneath candlelight. It’s a valuable moment, it reminds you of that thing that zoro had said.

“A wound on the back is a swordsman’s shame”

Vulnerability was not something easily handed out by swordsmen, especially not one like Mihawk. A weakness, a so-called wound on his back or in this case his heart. It’s not something to be taken lightly. But luckily you know this well.

“I’d like that”

His mouth twitches, sloping upwards ever so slightly.

To him the hug you give is a moment where he can momentarily be at ease and feel as if he had a goal to accomplish.

Throughout aimless travel he tries to find his match yet all that come to him are disappointments. Battle after battle of people not being able to even land a single blow on him. It’s a constant that leaves him bitter and resigned as he’d toll away in his castle alone.

But with you in arms that carry the burden of being the best he finds himself with a mission that seems ever so slightly more achievable.

He could protect you as best he could.

Though that is an equally daunting task considering your penchant for death, it feels more feasible so long as you remain in his hold.

Small arms that are wrapped around his neck mean no harm.

He has no use in being on edge, not when you’d barely had the will to ever pick up a blade. Even when your life depended on it.

For a short moment the bloodthirsty marine hunter feels at ease.

You do not see him smile but you can feel the warmth he exudes when his hand cards through your hair.

Marco

The cries of “cheater!” And “we agreed that everyone else would get a head start!” Ring out from the very familiar voices of whitebeard’s division commanders outside the tent as an even more familiar voice yells out to them “early bird gets the worm” with an amused chuckle.

And it’s there that the small tent is lit up by flames of cyan blue and brilliant gold. Still in his partial zoan form his clawed feet press against the ground as tail feathers of gold trail behind him like a burning chain.

Flames flicker in a calm heat, letting small pops of sparks almost as if they were mini-fireworks.

A lazy smile is across his face as he sits leisurely across from you.

“Long time no see Marco, how’s the family?”

He chuckles, pointing his thumb to the now closed curtain door as the slightly muffled sounds of complaints just outside answer the question. “Licking their wounds but for the most part good.” There’s an audible “hey!” Once more behind the curtain which makes you chuckle in turn. But eventually the chuckles settle down into silence.

And for a moment besides the murmurs outside there’s a warm silence punctuated by the soft crackles of flame.

Warm blue and soft gold.

Flames that are simultaneously soft as feathers as they wrap around you. Cocooning you in their warm nest of a grasp, like a mother bird swaddling an egg. You could go on and on with the bird analogies, but none could ever describe the sense of comforting warmth that covers your heart in its inferno.

“We’ve all missed you”

The fire burns like a campfire on your heart. The soft oozy scent and taste of s’mores as the muffled laughs of friends and family. The sweetness of chocolate, slightly charred marshmallow and crumbly graham-cracker seem to appear like phantoms on your tongue.

“Pops checks the bounties for you”

A father’s warm hand places itself on your shoulder as the two of you sit by the fireplace. The fireplace sets the blaze on your heart to that of a warmer intensity. Frost presses against the nearby window and nearby boots, hats and mittens let snow melt into them. The chill of winter easing away at the warmth of home and the presence of a man who swore to love and protect you.

“Izou has been arranging for some old spare kimonos of his to be given to you”

A mothers warm hands cup your cheeks as a tender kiss is placed atop your forehead, red phantom lipstick staining your flesh as its kindness traveled to your burning heart. A light giggle echoes from rose lips, a giggle escaping your own as tears pinch at the edges of your eyes at her goodbye.

“Ace, Thatch, and I have been keeping track of your guys’s adventures”

The hearth of your heart feels the burn of the sun clench around it like a firm hug. Beneath a sun hat you pick at a freshly tended garden, soil pooling beneath your hands as you pat it down firmly. Roots tangle beneath the ground, red strawberries hanging low and ripe for the picking as they are placed in a wicker basket. brother places a glass on the ground beside you, cool lemonade fresh on your patched tongue and the bittersweet of it lingering as his blurred face is obscured by the shadow of his own hat.

Love burns you to the core. It’s heat scorching a heart that should be dead and reigniting its will to keep moving.

You melt into the cool flames of blue and gold.

Your tears don’t put it out but instead makes it wrap more securely around you.

#determination!#one piece #platonic #one piece x reader #boa hancock x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #boa hancock #marco the phoenix x reader #marco the phoenix

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