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#so i hope it'll be okay with the crowds and noise
cyberstabbing · 7 months
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my dad and little brother are flying to japan tomorrow so i get to ask them to bring a bunch of stuff back for me :))) i'd ask for some obscure manga but most of it will be in japanese (duh), so maybe not. although wait i would love the new edition of sugar sugar rune! and some make up!
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sincerestlove · 3 months
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Anxious - R.G.
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hello again! hope you enjoy this short one. and thank you for the request!
Request: Helloo can I request one where like Regina keeps asking reader to come to a party but reader doesn’t want to, but like Regina is forcing too much so reader comes to the party and like have a sort of panic attack because of the noises and crowds and Regina comfort reader etc? Thanks!!
Pairing: Regina George x Reader
Warnings: Anxiety and mental health struggles - please read at your own discretion. anxious reader, comforting and supportive regina
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"Gina, please don't make me go."
The blonde rolled her eyes at you, putting the final touches on her makeup, lips puckered as she stared intently in the mirror.
You had been fidgeting on Regina's bed, feeling anxiety bubble in the pit of your stomach at the thought of attending tonight's party. Karen invited half of the student body to her house tonight to celebrate her birthday, which meant it would be crowded. You hated large crowds.
"Y/N, it'll be fine. I'll literally be with you the entire time, I promise." The blonde capped her lipstick, turning around to walk over to you, hands coming to rest on your shoulders. Her bright eyes softened as she met your gaze, rubbing circles into your shirt soothingly. She could always tell when your anxiety spiked. "Listen, if things get too overwhelming, we can leave, okay? Just take a deep breath."
You nodded, taking hold of her hand and squeezing to bring your heart rate down.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
~~
You were wrong.
It was horrible.
As soon as you pulled up to the house, you could feel the bass booming, speakers blaring, filling every corner of the house. You held onto Regina's hand for dear life as she led you through the house, looking for your friends.
Gretchen and Karen were talking animatedly in the kitchen, sipping on bright red solo cups filled with god knows what alcoholic concoction. Your nose turned up at the smell of sweat and cheap liquor that hit your senses.
The two girls greeted you and Regina, pulling you into a hug. You smiled nervously back at them, an uncomfortable chill running up your spine.
"Here, Y/N!" Karen stuffed a cup into your hand, encouraging you to take a sip. You obliged, cringing at the burn in your throat. Regina smiled at you knowingly, taking the cup from your hand and replacing it with orange juice.
You mouthed a quick thank you, taking a generous gulp. The three girls fell into conversation as you stood close by the blonde, curling into her side. You did your best to drown out the music - but it was so loud you literally couldn't even hear yourself think.
You felt the familiar claws of anxiety digging into your skin, little beads of sweat forming on your forehead.
There were so many people crowding the house, it felt like oxygen was being sucked out of your lungs, making it harder to breathe.
"Gina, I-I'm going to the bathroom." You mumbled and pulled away without waiting for a response, fumbling your way toward the bathroom. Luckily, you had been to Karen's enough time to know where it was. You locked yourself inside, taking a deep, ragged breath in, feeling the burn of your lungs. Every breath you took felt like it wasn't enough.
Your hands began to sweat and your skin flushed, suddenly feeling too hot in your thin blouse. With shaky hands, you shut off the lights, sat on the toilet seat and caged your head between your legs, praying for the noise to stop.
You weren't sure how much time had passed before fists were banging on the door, jiggling the door handle. "Y/N? Are you in there?" Regina's voice flooded the room. "Let me in, please."
You were barely able to get up and unlock the door, falling back on your butt onto the floor. Regina barged in, closing and locking the door again behind her. She decided to keep the lights off, kneeling beside your cowering, shaking frame. "Hey, I'm here, baby. It's okay, I'm here." She took you into her embrace, holding on to you tightly.
"It's too loud, Gina." You spoke quietly, hands covering your ears. Regina nodded, helping you to stand up.
"Okay, Y/N, it's okay. I'm sorry, baby. Let's go home. Come on, let's go." She whispered to you encouragingly as she led the pair of you out the front door and into her Jeep.
Regina held your hand the whole drive back to her house, ushering you inside quickly and into her bed. She helped you change into a pair of loose sweatpants and a t-shirt, wiping your makeup off before tucking you into her bed.
The rest of the night was filled with apologies and sweet words from Regina, your favorite snacks (that she kept in her bedside drawer just for you), a Netflix movie and soft kisses, until the two of you fell asleep wrapped in each other's embrace.
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hope you enjoyed!
as always, please leave requests if you have any! :)
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writethrough · 1 year
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The Only Destination
(Billy Hargrove x Gender-Neutral Reader)
Synopsis: Sometimes you can’t stand all the noise and the people. You want to run and hide, but you don’t know where to go. Until you spot the one person who you’ll always run toward.
Warnings: Language, overstimulated/sound-sensitive Reader
Word Count: 1638
A/N: So, I definitely did not mean to go over a month without posting a fic, but the creative juices have been sparse. Thankfully, I think they're slowly coming back.
This started as a Shy!Reader fic and turned into this. And I didn't use pronouns (I think), but I use the word "perfume." Just an FYI. Hope you enjoy it! (Also, I can't remember what gifs I've used already, so I'm just going with my heart from now on.)
Moodboard by @steph-speaks
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Rubbing your chest, you force yourself to keep your hand there and not travel to your throat. There are too many people around. They’d think you’re trying to hurt yourself instead of self-soothe.
You’re mostly on autopilot as you down the remainder of your drink. It seemed the normal thing to do as you search for somewhere with fewer people—less noise.
Someone walks past you a little too close, and you want nothing more than to scrape your nails down your arms to stop the breeze.
It’s so fucking crowded. As if everyone is placed in just the wrong spot. You have no privacy, no space where you can go and breathe.
The kids splashing in the pool, the grill sizzling, the laughter and talking, it’s too much.
Your last saving grace is to go inside and find a bathroom, flee to a confined space, and hope you don’t feel caged—until you spot Billy. And your feet move before your mind can fully process what you’re doing.
He’s sitting on the edge of a lounger, watching the kids even though they all know how to swim.
You’re squeezing your fingers, scratching the back of your hand unconsciously as you walk toward him.
He glances your way, looks back to the kids, then returns to you when he realizes who you are. His brow pinches once he sees your face and the shift in your eyes.
He doesn’t move, only waits for you to get to him. You stand there, lifting your lips into what you hope is a smile, but when he doesn't return it, you know it isn’t.
You're unsure what you want to do but know Billy’s where you need to be.
But he knows.
He slowly places a hand over yours, tilting his head to the lounger in a silent “sit.”
You do, grateful to not stand there, feeling like all eyes are on you.
You slide your fingers through his absentmindedly and tuck yourself into his side, just behind his back.
He tightens his grip, scanning you.
“You wanna go?” he asks quietly, ever so slightly hunching toward you, hiding you from the others.
You don’t know.
You don't know what you want, and you don’t know what to do. And it makes you wish you could shut your brain off, but it keeps going. And the only thing that you know is that Billy makes you feel a little better. Like you don’t wanna crawl out of your skin.
You put your other hand on your intertwined ones and press your mouth into his shoulder, needing to feel as much contact as possible.
“Okay,” he whispers into your temple. “I’m right here.”
His thumb grazes your knuckles.
You concentrate on it—the warmth of his skin and the remanence of smoke. You hate the smell, but right now, it’s entirely him. It pushes your frayed nerves aside and ironically lets you breathe easier.
After a few moments, you open your eyes—not realizing you closed them—and meet Billy’s.
You rest your forehead on his shoulder, slightly embarrassed by how you pushed yourself onto him.
You inhale deeply and let it out before sitting up, still close enough that your hips touch.
“What do you need?” He keeps his voice low. You can't express how much that means to you.
You're not as on edge as you were, the shouts and laughs don’t make you tense as much, but you know if you move it'll get worse. You just need a minute…
“Can we go somewhere? Just for a bit?” It finally feels right to speak, like the words won’t get stuck in your throat and hurt your ears.
“You good to move?”
You like how he doesn’t say “yes.” He gets to the point—listens to your words and body language. And when you nod, he leads you to the side of the house surrounded by trees. 
When you can’t see anyone and the voices are muffled enough, you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his neck. His arms encircling your shoulders feel like a barrier between you and everything else.
You search for the dip of his spine, and your fingers twitch along it. The press of his cheek on your head comforts you.
He doesn’t sway or shift, only holds you with the steadiness you crave. 
And when you lift your head, he waits for your arms to loosen so his can, too.
You’re still touching each other as your eyes meet. Billy's hands are under your shoulder blades, yours on his ribs.
He waits, knowing too many questions will throw you back into that state. All you have to do is say the word, and he’d drive you home. He’d fill everyone in later and collect your stuff while you got in his car. He’d stay with you if you wanted, sit in your living room while you lay in bed, or stand together in your kitchen the rest of the day if it kept you grounded. Whatever you need.
You’re tracing the tattoo on his side without realizing it, and his chest clenches a little at how he's the one you sought out.
“Can we sit on the swing?” Your voice is slightly hoarse like you’re forcing it to stay hidden.
He glances toward the bench swing and nods when he knows no one’s there.
Again, he leads you, holding the swing steady so you can settle into the cushion first. As soon as he sits, you pull your legs underneath you and lean into his side.
You’re far enough away from everyone that they’d have to walk over to talk to you but close enough to watch as Will pushes Jonathan into the pool.
Billy’s arm is around your waist, hand secured on your hip. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he tilts his chin to whisper in your ear.
“Okay if I swing us?”
Slowly, you nod. And Billy gently rocks you both, waiting a few moments to see if you want him to stop. When you don’t say anything, he relaxes, kissing your head and keeping his lips there for a few moments longer.
It’s a gesture that makes you want to cry. You can feel the tears welling. If you focus on them, you know they’ll fall.
“Thank you.” Your meek tone makes him squeeze your hip.
“I’ve got you.”
You stayed there for almost an hour before you asked Billy if he could drive you home.
When you arrive, the thought of him leaving feels like one of your limbs is being ripped off. You want to hold yourself so you can try to keep your body intact.
But you don’t know how to ask him to stay. It’s like the words are stuck in your throat. So, you sit in his car for a moment. You can feel him looking at you. And you’re trying to force air into your lungs when he breaks the silence.
“Can I stay tonight?”
You nod, eyes soft in a way that tells him you’re still feeling like an exposed nerve.
Once you’re inside your apartment, you head straight into the shower. You’re not sure if you despise yourself or everyone at the party more, and you need to wash it all away.
Billy’s in your kitchen brewing you tea. Whether you drink it or not, holding the warm mug will comfort you.
He sets it on your nightstand. Then, strips himself of his shirt and shorts, climbing into your bed.
Yours is softer than his, and it smells like you. Whatever perfume you use always makes him a little dizzy—in the best way. 
There are photos scattered around. Some on your dresser and desk, one on each nightstand, and one peeking out of the top of the book you’re reading.
He opens it and smiles almost immediately.
It’s you and him at his birthday party. The first one he had since his mom left. You threw it for him. Surprised him and everything—cake, streamers, presents, the whole nine.
Jonathan took this one—among many others. You’re in Steve’s kitchen facing each other. Your hands are in mid-motion as you tell him a story, smile wide and eyes bright. And he’s grinning.
It’s obvious how he’s leaning closer to you—like you’re in your own bubble. And he’s happy he didn’t catch Jonathan taking the picture, or he’d have moved away. He would’ve pretended he wasn't enthralled by you. At that point, he didn’t realize what he felt for you.
You walk into the bedroom then. The smell of your shampoo drifting over.
Wordlessly, you settle into your side and sip your tea. You close your eyes for a moment. Breathe. Then place the mug back.
He’s about to ask you if it’s okay when you slip down and press yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pushing your face into his side.
He almost blushes. You’re so damn cute.
“Can you read to me?” you ask.
“I don’t read smut for free,” he teases.
You bury your nose in his side. “It’s not that.”
He chuckles, resting his arm around your shoulders and propping the book on his lap.
He reads five pages before you’re out.
When he realizes you’re asleep, he puts the book down and looks at you.
You’re so relaxed, eyelashes fluttering as you sink deeper and deeper.
He doesn’t know what he did to deserve your trust. By some miracle, you feel safe with him.
Maybe…Maybe he doesn’t have to turn out like Neil.
Carefully, he lays down, pulls you onto his chest, and buries his nose in your hair.
He could stay like this forever.
The longer he breathes you in, the more sure he becomes.
You’re it for him. And it’s time he tells you.
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Taglist: @moonlightfountain, @steph-speaks, @bookshelf-dust, @nix-rose-q
If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on.
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Note
okay, I think this would finally end the series right?
Could I request Kate and Nina with a reader who is dying in their arms?
This does end the series! We've got all of the creeps with a dying partner now :) I would say I'd do a platonic sibling one for Sally, but quite honestly that's a bit too much angst for even me and I don't think she needs that level of trauma.
Thank you to everyone that sent in requests to get this series written!
Kate:
She can't hear anything. The blood flowing through her body as her heart relentlessly pounds away in fear and confusion overtakes her as all she can hear is her heart hammering away in her ears. She feels as though she's going to pass out, until she feels your hand tenderly grasp her face, her eyes overflowing with tears looking down at you. Her face scrunches up immediately at the look of sheer adoration and love you give her, and she starts wailing out above you as she clutches onto you and holds you tight. Kate has always been the one that gets scared the easiest in the mansion. The dark, crowds of people, loud noises, such common things that most could handle so easily, but she'd always melt into anxiety and fear around them, although her biggest fear over the last few years had changed. It had changed into losing you. Now, here she was, weeping like an infant as she clutched onto your weakening body, living out her biggest fear in real time. She could feel your arms wrapping around her, feel your soothing kisses on her temple, but all she could do was hold you and shake and cry, unsure of what to do or how to help you. Eventually, you calm her down enough to look at you again, and you speak to her, and while she can hear you, her brain is just so foggy it's almost hard to process the things you're saying. 'It'll be okay. You'll make it out of here safe, and you'll come back for me. I want you to be happy, for both of us. I love you.' She shakes her head in denial as she presses emotional kisses to your lips, clinging onto you as you cling to her too. When your grip goes weaker and your lips pressing into hers get less force, she just holds you, rocking back and forth as she tells you how much she loves you and how much she'll miss you. She tries to stay calm now for you, but once that small, broken smile blooms on your lips and your last breath pushes out, that's all she needs to break down in screams again. She doesn't care if someone hears or sees her, she doesn't care about anything anymore. What is there to care about, when the one single shining light in her life has now been extinguished?
Nina:
Everybody knew Nina was capable. She had risen to the top of Zalgo's ranks within a couple of years of being hired by him, proving herself to be a determined leader, one that cared for her fellow teammates and always looked out for them, one that was incredibly skilled and efficient in all of her missions, one that never left anybody behind. That's why, with all of her might, she tries. She tries to carry you, with her own incredibly bruised and battered body, to carry you home. If she wasn't injured she could do it, she tells herself, so she has to force herself to do it now, however, despite her best efforts, she collapses once more, turning to cradle your body so it's her that hits the ground and not you. She's tired. There were more enemies than expected, and the two of you had been taken by surprise. She tried her best to stay close to you, but in a moment of distraction and a shift of focus, you'd taken a deadly blow to the abdomen, one that sent her into a rage as she took out all remaining targets. She had checked on you afterward, and despite trying to hold out hope, she knew the two of you wouldn't make it home, at least not both alive. She had tried to contact someone for help, for backup, but without realizing it her communicator had been broken at some point in the battle. She had been so focused on you that she hadn't even noticed her tears, her sobs, her choked breaths shaking her body, her weakness, she hadn't noticed it until she heard your voice telling her it would be okay. Nina was known for being the happy one, but beneath that happiness was a bitter, unending sadness. She had her family taken from her, and now she was losing you, the most important thing in her life. How cruel. She could tell your end was coming, so she got you both comfortable, and she just held you. You both confessed your final feelings, reminisced about your relationship and your would-have-been future, you cried, you kissed, you held each other, and then... Nina was left alone, all by herself, to cry and mourn another heavy loss, all over again.
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writeforfandoms · 10 months
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CONGRATS ON 2K!!!
That’s like a huge deal and you deserve every moment of it.
Hear me out for the special.
A combo of “hold my hand ok? It’s going to be over soon” and “Close your eyes for me love”.
My mind goes to a Gaz or Price rescue fic, but I feel like it could be applied to so many situations.
Thank you! Hmm okay you're right, this can be applied to so many different scenarios. Let's see what I can manage.
Warnings: brief panic, overstimulation, crowds, flashing lights, loud noises.
--
You'd never been a fan of big crowds. There was just too much - between the noise and the press of bodies and the way the air didn't move, you avoided crowds.
Which made it all the more surprising that your boyfriend had talked you into going to a fair.
In his defense, he had not badgered you into it, just asked and presented you with the information, then let you decide. Because Kyle was a good man that way.
And he rarely asked for things, and he'd looked so hopeful, and his family would be there too... Well. You'd given in and said yes. And you didn't regret that.
But you did regret not leaving sooner. Lights had been turned on around the fair as the sun dipped low and vanished from sight. Flashing lights illuminated the rides on one side of the fair, while a stage had been illuminated just recently.
The sudden flow of people towards the stage had caught you off guard, honestly. You and Kyle both, by the way his eyes went wide.
"Kyle," you started, eyes closing tightly for a moment as someone jostled hard into your side, tipping you off balance.
"Hold my hand, okay?" Kyle leaned close to ask, physically placing himself between you and the crowd as much as he could. "It'll be over soon."
You pressed close to his back, holding tight to his hand. There was too much, just too much. You did not want to be here anymore.
And then the lights on stage strobed, signaling the start of the performance. Cheers and screams came up from the crowd, much too loud and too close, especially paired with the lights.
"Close your eyes for me, love," Kyle shouted over the noise as the aisle cleared, more or less.
You obeyed, your trust in him absolute, even in this madness of overstimulation. His grip didn't waver as he led you forward and away from the stage and the lights.
Finally, feeling cooler air around you, you breathed easier. The sound was still overwhelming and close, but more manageable. Especially when Kyle changed directions, putting some tents between you and the performance.
"Are you alright, love?" His free hand cupped your cheek, rubbing gently under your eyes.
"Yeah," you breathed, slowly opening your eyes. You had to admit that the way the blues and reds and yellows of the carnival rides and games lit him was gorgeous. Even more so than usual. "I'm okay. You?"
"I'm good." He smiled, warm and a touch apologetic. "Forgot they get like that, didn't exactly expect that madness."
You laughed a little. "It's okay," you assured him. "We made it out, mostly thanks to you."
"Still have to make it home," he reminded you gently. At the way you immediately made a face, he chuckled. "How 'bout I get us a ride? Then you won't have to worry about people."
"You sure?" You couldn't help biting your lip, a little uncertain.
"Positive. Really, 's for my benefit." He grinned, bright and teasing, clearly hoping you'd take the bait.
You weren't in the habit of denying him. "Your benefit?"
"Mmhm. I'll never live it down if I have to call Price to bail me out."
You broke down giggling, and his grin was bright enough to light the whole damn fair.
"Let's go home," you agreed, squeezing his hand. The noise was still a lot, but Kyle made everything better.
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crystalsnow95z · 10 months
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Drabble written within two hours just because inspiration struck. Posting as is because I'm so lazy.
Sickie; Yoongi with bad cold.
Caretaker: mostly Jin
Why do they have to be so loud? Yoongi puts in his earpieces to try to muffle the sound of Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook warming up their voices. They were singing nursery songs, but singing it at a higher octave with each line, seeing who could hit the highest note.
He usually isn't bothered by their playful nature, but even after taking medicine, he still felt pressure behind his eyes, the high pitch sounds making it worse. A tickle in his throat made him cough again, trying to muffle it. Maybe the medicine just wore off..
"Are you sure you're feeling up to this Yoongi?" Jin asks voice thick with worry. "You've been coughing all morning.." He swore that Yoongi had been running a fever when he woke him up, but when staff checked when they got to the venue, he was only a fee degrees warmer than usual.
"I can do it, it's been three years since we've been here, and I don't know when we can come back. It's just my voice. It's fine Hyungie.." Yoongi coughs into his arm, wincing at the pain. "I'll just leave the shouting to the others.."
"It's time for the sound check." A staff member tells them, giving Yoongi his escape from his only hyung.
"Okay, we're coming, thank you.." Namjoon answers with a bow. "If you change your mind no one will blame you okay? Sometimes you're just unlucky.."
"I'll ask staff for some medicine after the sound check. I'll be okay." Maybe if I say it enough, it'll be true.. Yoongi goes with the others onto the stage, staying close to Hoseok, leaning against him. Hoseok's takes Yoongi's hand, giving it a squeeze. "Your energy being low before the concert even started isn't a good sign." J-hope frets over him, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear.
"The crowd will give me energy. I'll be.. Heh'ehhitchew..!" A sneeze cuts him off, wiping his nose with his sleeve, sighing with irritation.
"Hyung just admit it. This isn't just a little cold.." Hoseok finds a tissue. "If you're going to go at least try to clear your nose.."
"I'll be fine." Yoongi tries to feign confidence, clearing his throat to try to stop from coughing. Yesterday, it was an annoying tickle, but today, he was completely congested, his sinuses leaving pain behind his eyes. He turns his head away from Hoseok blowing the mucus out the best he can. "Gross.." he murmurs, throwing it into the waste bin.
"Take it easy, okay?"Hoseok squeezes his hand, feeling a little more at ease when Yoongi's breathing comes softer than before. "Please don't push yourself, please?"
"Hey hey.." Namjoon's voice through his mic makes the crowd roar with excitement, making Yoongi bite his lip as the pain flares up, pinching the bridge of his nose. I can do this. It's fine..
Everyone had started playfully talking to army, but when Yoongi goes to take his turn, instead of his voice coming out, he nearly coughs into the mic, quickly pulling the mic away and coughing into his fist.
"Min Yoongi. Min Yoongi.." The crowd screams his name, giving him the strength he needs. They're so excited to see me. I have to push through.
"Army are you ready for tonight?" Yoongi usually yells the words, but couldn't get his voice above his normal speaking voice. "Make some noise!"
The screams sounded louder to Yoongi than it did any of the previous shows they've done that month, but he couldn't tell if it was from his aching head or if army were actually louder.
The crowd chanted and screamed as the other members walked around the stage, making hearts and blowing kisses, showering army with affection as they sang their parts.
Yoongi pushes through his part, ignoring the urge to cough and pressing his fingers on his chest as he finishes, going to the edge of the stage for water. I sounded so bad..My voice cracked at the end.. He smiled when he made eye contact with someone trying to push away his negative thoughts, regretting it when they let out a shrill scream.
He goes back by the other members, feeling a wave of nausea from the pain, swaying into someone. Yoongi felt someone's foot under his, apologizing when he saw Taehyung next to him, looking at him with a worried expression. He's not doing well..I gotta do something.. he's swaying.."Hyungie.."
Yoongi's eyes were dulling, and tears were forming. His skin glowed with sweat, and Taehyung could see his hand trembling.
"Hyung lean on me okay?" Taehyung orders gently, removing one of Yoongi's earpieces to speak with him, unsure if he even understood him.
My vision..everything's fading.. I'm gonna faint.. I'm so dizzy.. Yoongi involuntarily let's out a soft moan, leaning into Taehyung just to stay on his feet. Despite Taehyung being right behind him his voice sounds far away, as if he were listening underwater.
Taehyung keeps his hands firmly on Yoongi as he quickly moves to hug him from behind, holding Yoongi by the waist as he sings his part, singing a half second behind the music. Army squeal loudly to see Taehyung's sudden display of affection of the Daegu rapper, unaware it wasn't just love that made Taehyung hold him so tightly.
Yoongi's knees were threatening to buckle from underneath him, and Taehyung holding him was the only thing that was keeping him on his feet. Taehyung hides this fact by making it look like he's just playing,lightly swinging Yoongi to the beat of the music,but the other members look over with concern when they see Yoongi not putting up any fight.
Yoongi is completely out of it for another minute before recovering, panicked for a moment when he momentarily forgot where he was. Pulling away from Taehyung to stand on his own, he takes a few deep breaths to clear his head.
"I'm okay.." Yoongi whispers to Taehyung, just in time for Jimin to finish the last verse of the song, just barely recovering on time. My visions still fuzzy..but I can't let the crowd know.. Taehyung lets go of his waist but grabs Yoongi's hand, the seven boys meeting up center stage to say a quick 'see you later' and return to back stage. Taehyung keeps his arm around Yoongi as they bow, not risking him falling forward, leading him down the steps.
"Yoongi-hyung fainted on stage." Taehyung blurts to the other members as soon as they enter the back room.
"Seriously?" Hoseok's eyes widen, putting his hand on Yoongi's back. "Hyung you can't do this if you're already that weak..
"What? That's why you were holding him?" Jungkook questions, reaching to touch Yoongi's cheek.
"You should sit down." Jin orders softly.
"We need to get a doctor." Namjoon tries to control the situation. "Give him some space guys.."
The members all started talking at once, making Yoongi's head spin once more. He steps back, trying to escape all the grasping hands and worried team. Please be quiet..
"I was just dizzy for a few seconds, that's all. It's no big deal. He's just overreacting." Yoongi tried to calm their worries, giving a glare at the younger Daegu boy for telling them this. It took every ounce of willpower he had to regain consciousness, but he didn't want the others to know.
"I'm just worried about you.."Taehyung squeezes Yoongi's hand, but Yoongi pulls his away from him, putting his hands in his pockets.
"Well, worry about yourself. You already messed up during sound check."Yoongi didn't want Taehyung or the others making mistakes, but his voice came out more aggressive than he intended instantly, regretting his harsh tone when he met Taehyung's misty eyes.
"I'm just worried about you.." Taehyung blinks quickly to fight off the tears, pointing his nose upwards.
Jin notices it too, wrapping his arm around the vocalist. "Yoongi-yah, I know how frustrating it can be to not be in good condition before a show, but you don't have to take it out on us. Apologize to Taehyung.."
"I'm sorry, Taehyung-ah.." Yoongi says sincerely, placing his hand on his shoulder. He usually didn't lose his patience so easily, especially not with the youngest of members. "I should've said that.. I just have a headache and it's making me irritable.."
"It's okay.."Taehyung hugs Yoongi. "I know i messed up my timing, but i couldn't let you fall in front of our fans."
"I know, and I'm grateful.. I'm just pissed at the situation not you..." Yoongi pushes Taehyung away, coughing into his elbow.
Their's short embrace was enough to get the others set back on track with the core problem. Could Yoongi perform?
"Yoongi-hyung, you've been coughing all day and hardly ate the past few days.." J-hope frets over Yoongi, helping staff dry the sweat off his face. "And you look pretty pale. Are you sure you can do this?"
"I just need to take some medicine, I already talked to staff this morning, and it's just a cold. I'll be fine." Yoongi tries to calm Hoseok, trying to not get frustrated with Hoseok too. It's the same conversation i had with Hyung earlier... "Don't worry about me, just focus on getting ready for the show. I'll take it easy. Okay?"
"Alright, just.. know your limits, okay?"Hoseok hugs Yoongi before going to get changed for the concert. He's so stubborn, but there's nothing I can do..
Yoongi changes into his set clothes, not realizing how much he was shaking until he tried to put his earrings in, almost stabbing his earlobe.
"Let hyung do it." Yoongi jumped in surprise when he heard Jin's voice next to him, taking the hoop from his unsteady hand and putting it in place, doing the same for the other side. "I brought you some medicine and some vitamins." Jin tells yoongi while opening the bottles, putting a mixture of tablets into his palm. "These should help keep your strength up and help with that migraine.."
"Thanks, hyung.."Yoongi sniffles then sighs. "I hope i can at least get better by day three..my voice sounds so congested.."Yoongi takes the cocktail of tablets with a gulp of water. "Heh'ehhitchaaugh.." Yoongi sneezes with an annoyed whine at the end.
"If you need to stop at any point during the show, you need to tell us, okay? Your health comes first above anything else. If you don't feel like you can do it, we can work around it." Jin says, sounding like a concerned parent, rubbing his thumbs gently over Yoongi's temples. The soft motion ebbs some of the pain away.
"If it gets to that point, I'll let you know..thanks hyung.." Yoongi coughs into his fist, Jin rubbing his back. He can feel the eyes of the other members looking at him, sighing. "I hate this.."
"I know yoon, but just remember no one blames you. Rest up until it's time to go. Hyung will wake you up in time to warm up." Jin says, taking his jacket and balling it up on the floor as a pillow. Yoongi obeys, his body instantly growing heavier as soon as he lays down.
"I love you yoongi." Jin gives him a quick kiss on the top of his head, brow furrowing with worry when he notices Yoongi's eyes already closed. He's exhausted..
"You too.." He murmurs his reply, already half asleep.
"Yoongi really isn't well.." Yoongi hears Namjoon whispering, but he felt too groggy to open his eyes. "He's got a fever and his coughing hasn't let up much."
A fever? No. No.. Sh*t.. I gotta pull myself together.. Yoongi sits up slowly, Namjoon's jacket falling off him. When did he cover me up? How long have I been asleep?
"Namjoon-ah, don't worry about it, I'm feeling better now.." Yoongi wasn't lying, but it wasn't by much. His headache dulled down, and it didn't hurt as much to talk, but his body still ached all over, and he felt freezing despite the fact it was so hot backstage. I have to perform..
"You don't look like you're feeling better, but you know your limits more than I do, just pace yourself okay? I don't want you to pass out again, hyung." Namjoon says, ignoring his gut feeling to tell him to stay back. He knew how much this meant to Yoongi all too well.
"I won't. I can do this.." Yoongi tells Namjoon, but it was more for himself, he holds out his hand for Namjoon to pull him to his feet.
"Staff called five minutes, we were just coming to wake you. We wanted to let you rest as long as you could." Jin gives Yoongi a cup of green tea with lemon. "Maybe this will help your voice a bit.."
Yoongi sips it,wincing when he swallows. Its gotten worse..it didn't hurt to drink before..The liquid did nothing to soothe his swollen throat, but he thanked Jin nonetheless.
The members gathered together, chanting to psych themselves up, Yoongi biting his lip to avoid coughing, adding his two fingers to the pile but not shouting with the others.
The seven boys go to the steps leading to the stage, yoongi staying close to his only hyung.
"My poor Yoongi.." Jin squeezes his shoulder. "Please take it easy, okay?"
Yoongi nods, soaking in the cheers of the crowd when they enter the stage, quickly getting into position, starting with black swan. He closes his eyes, letting his body go through the motions from muscle memory when he wasn't rapping, the synergy of the crowd giving him the strength he needed. His voice was drowned out over the background music, army having to be quiet to hear him.
He was okay for the first two songs, but when he was on the sidelines for mic drop, he couldn't suppress his cough anymore. He felt Namjoon take his mic from his hand when he doubled over so his coughing wasn't caught on the mic.
No. It can't come back yet.. it hasn't even been that long..His cough made the pulsating headache return, him rubbing at his temples for the few seconds he had to spare before his part came brushing his back against Hoseok when they switched who was rapping, his voice came out with a cough for the first few words but quickly recovered.
Namjoon was ready to back him up, holding his mic close to his mouth, but Yoongi already had several voices singing with him.
Army had joined him, Yoongi taking out one of his earpieces to hear them, letting them sing the last line, walking to get his tea to dry to soothe his throat.
"You did well."
"You got this!"
"We love you min Yoongi."
"It's okay!"
Army shout encouraging words in several languages, but instead of making him feel better, he felt the pressure to try harder. These army traveled from all over the world.. i have to try harder.. Yoongi takes a deep breath, putting his cup down and running to his spot.
After mic drop, they did their greeting, bowing to army. "Hello, we are BTS!" The members go down the line with individual introductions. We aren't even halfway over yet..and there's the rap medley..
Yoongi sits on the stage, closing his eyes. The stress only made him feel worse. He was freezing, though he was sweating under the stage lights. Nausea washed over him, wrapping his arm around his stomach.
Jin takes a seat behind him, pulling him to lean into him. "You need to calm down, Yoon.." Jin whispers. "If you keep worrying like this, I'll have to pull you. You're doing fine. Army understands. You have to understand, too. They don't care about just the music. They care about you."
Yoongi takes a few deep breaths to calm himself. Only just now hearing army never stopped chanting for him.
"Army doesn't want you worrying about being good. They just want you to be happy and healthy." Jimin tells Yoongi, his words making army scream with agreement.
"Army.." Yoongi talks into his mic, the crowd falling silent. "I have to admit it, i can't give you my all, but I'll give what I can, but I'll need you to help me"
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Ok ok what about Chris Evans having a short sized girlfriend, reader (her height is up to his breast). He loves to fuck her pussy and calling her his little girl! 🥵
Okay.. Yes, yes and more yes. Now this will be interesting because I'm not short so I def want the the feedback if I nailed the intensity of being crowded by Chris but being to little to escape his torturous pleasure.
Morning Delight
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I can hear footsteps above me and know Chris is finally awake. Perfect timing; I speed up pouring his coffee and make him a plate of breakfast. Everything looked perfect and I hoped my fine ass man was hungry.
After a few more moments of listening to him above me, I glance up to see him descend the staircase lookin like a fuckin snack: his soft dark blonde neck length hair beggin me to pull it; scruffy face reminding me of when he pinned me to our bed and ate me till I cried, rubbing his beard against my thighs occasionally. He had my fave black cotton sleep pants on, the ones that hugged his big dick just how I like. Fuck, he looked soooo good.
"Good morning Chris." I say as I just finish making his coffee.
"Hey sweetheart. You weren't in bed when I awoke." He states a bit grumpy, arms reaching around me from behind to pull me back against him as he leans into me. His chin sits on the top of my head, as he clutches me to him in a snug hug.
"I know, babe, sorry. Just wanted to make sure you ate before you left for filming today." I reply closing my eyes and enjoying his embrace.
"You look so beautiful in just my shirt. I love seein you in my clothes." He admits, hugging me to him a bit tighter. It feels so nice to feel his warm defined body damn near glued to mine and I can't help turning in his arms, my short ass havin to stand on the tips of my toes so I can connect our lips. He bends down to help me reach and I kiss him slow before he groans and deepens it, pushing his tongue into my mouth. I can taste the mint of his toothpaste as I suck on it.
He makes another noise and I can feel his chubby dick get hard against my belly. My pussy clenches when I feel it twitch against me. His hands are roaming my body, stopping to squeeze the fat of my naked ass, moving to the front of me to caress my tummy before sliding up and groping my breast. He breaks the kiss slowly, eyes looking intently on mine. "Dammit little girl, got me so ready to slide in that tight tiny pussy and I haven't even had a taste of that delicious breakfast you made me yet." He chuckles amused.
"Fuck breakfast, Chris." I say, still a little breathless from our kiss. His words rile me up quickly and if I'll be putting anything in my mouth it'll be that dick, and only that dick. "Eat after, I'm so ready for you." I rush out, pressing our lips together again quickly, taking him by surprise.
His hands reach under my ass and he lifts me up so I can reach his lips better. I kiss him passionately, moaning out how horny I am against his mouth. His lips are so sensual and soft, turning me into a puddle as he trails them from mine to my neck.
"How do you want it pretty girl?" He asks, his mouth on my sensitive skin makin me shiver a bit.
"Any way you want Christopher." I moan out to him. "I'm so wet already, no foreplay. Inside. Now."
Chris smirks as he walks us to the counter opposite us and sets me on my feet. "Oh so you callin the shots?." He teases, his tall ass looking down at me, making me feel even smaller than I am.
"I am." I say simply, turning around and leaning forward on the counter, ass in the air. His shirt rides up on me and I turn my neck to see him focusing on my slit. I know he see the wetness seeping outta me, I'm fuckin droolin for him down there at this point. I shake my ass a little, knowing he enjoys the jiggle of it. His eyes dart between my ass and my pussy, the latter starting to drip.
"Fuckin actin like a little slut." He groans, stepping up behind me and pulling his dick from his pants, rubbing it through my folds to coat himself in my juices. I moan, pushing back, trying to slip the tip of his fat dick inside. He resists and 'tsks' at me, continuing to use me to wet his dick up and moaning, "I'ma fuck you like one then."
That's the only warning I get as he slams in a little more than halfway, the slight curve in his fat dick forcing it's way through my walls. My head falls back and I wail my surprised pleasure, nails scraping against the counter as I try to clutch at something, anything. I almost miss his own groan of satisfaction as he grips my hips tight, not moving for a moment before slamming me down on the rest of his cock.
I yelp, leaning forward to take some of the pressure outta my gut at the forceful impaling of me on his dick but I feel a hand in my hair pulling me back till I'm against his chest. Chris bends down to bring his lips to my ear, and the position has got his dick pushin against my walls inna whole other way.
"Nu uhn, Sweetheart. Where you goin? You damn near begged for this: ain't no runnin." He says and I know he's gonna take a special kinda enjoyment in ruinin me. I shakily take a breath to prepare myself for the onslaught.
He pulls out slowly, a few seconds going by before he plunges back in deep and quick. His hand leaves my hair to join his other around my waist, using me like a doll. I'm already sweaty as fuck, my hair becoming messy and sticking to the sides of my face. I can't speak, already to fucked out for anything to come outta my mouth except wordless wails. I can happily admit I'm moaning like a whore in a brothel at his intense fucking.
"Fuuuuuck, this is the best p-pussy. ." He moans out, tossing his head back and speeding his thrusts a bit. "Your pussy is so tight, little girl. C-cant last that long this time."
At this point, this man must be talking to his damn self because I can barely hear him with the rushing in my ears and the dickin I'm gettin. I can't help but lean forward on the counter, a small unintentional escape attempt from his thick ass cock.
His head immediately flashes down so he can look at me through slightly narrowed eyes. "Really, little girl? Tryna escape me ag-gain?" He grits out through clenched teeth. He stops his thrust to lean forward on me, dick in me as deep as possible as his hips pin and lift me abit. Only the tips of my toes reach the floor as my fingers scramble against the counter. I keen then sob as his tall frame dwarfs mine and keeps me locked in place as he resumes thrusting at a quick pace, strokes now gratingly deep.
"What's wrong, little girl? C-cat got your tongue." He mocks as he twists and rolls his hips sporadically, givin every inch of the walls of my pussy a taste of his big dick. The pressure is slowly starting to build inside me and my mouth opens and closes as I try to speak. He notices my open mouth and cradles my face with one hand, his middle finger slipping in my mouth as he doubles down in his thrusting. His other hand finds my clit and alternates between slow and fast circles.
My tummy twitches as my pleasure mounts, pussy leaving creamy rings around his dick as he leans into me me more, pinning me harder against the counter. I can't even feel my fuckin toes at this point to know if I'm still touchin the floor. The feeling of being held down by someone so much bigger than me has my ass horny as fuck and my insides can't decide between clutching or fluttering around his dick as I get closer and closer to flooding the fine ass man rearranging my insides.
"Fuuuck baby, stop c-clenching. Gonna make me f-fuckin cum, don't wanna." He groans, removing his finger from my between my lips, his other still rubbing my clit. I try to obey but everything is finally coming to a head as his dick jabs my pussy repeatedly, my clit stiff as fuck as I cum. I'm wailing and crying as the crest rides higher and higher, while his hips stutter for a second then continue to ride me as fast as he can.
"No baby, n-noooo. Don't cum y-" He starts to moan, til he feels the first squirt of my wetness gush hard around his dick. He's almost pushed out, if it wasn't for the grip my pussy had on him and the way he had me pinned. "Ahhhh fuuuuuck, fuck it, gonna flood that tiny pretty p-pussy, little girl. Fuckin take it- take it- take it." He groans through clenched teeth as he shoots excessively into me, his moans punctuated by his deep thrusts. I can feel his cum splash heavily against my walls and whine at the feeling of him giving me a thick, fat creampie. My fuzzy brain loses count after his 6th gush against my womb. I'm utterly fucked out as his fuckin slows to small, light humping motions while he leaks vigorously into me.
"Fuuuuuck baby, that was so good. Thank you." He says, still trying to catch his breath. He eases outta me, his hips unpinning mine from the counter, finally letting my feet reach the kitchen's cold tile floor.
I'm limp and satisfied against the counter for a few moments before Chris turns me around and kneels in front of me, eye level with my swollen little puss. I'm still outta breath, wondering what the hell he's up to.
"What?" Chris asks, feigning innocence, looking up at the expression on my face briefly, before returning his gaze to the mess he made between my legs. "Time for breakfast." He says smugly, placing a soft kiss on my clit.
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kiraavi · 10 months
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Dies Irae - Chapter I
Note : hii! First chapter done! I ashamedly do not know Spanish and have to resort to the infamous google translate, so if there's any Spanish speakers reading, please, please, do correct me! :')
Hope you enjoy and I hope the dialogue is okay. I feel like it's something I struggle with. And the writing in general... I hope it's good. I am admittedly really nitpicky and judgmental about my own writing which has quickly become an obstacle, but I'm happy to just get this chapter out in a reasonable amount of time.
Summary : Your brother has been dead for a year now, victim of this cruel and exploitative world; silenced by those of a much greater standing than him, and you've known no greater agony than the bloodlust and thirst for revenge that has since consumed you.
You've got nothing to your name, only the clothes on your back and a valuable family heirloom. When you hear whispers of the Sanguine Blade, a infamous mercenary, frequenting a tavern in the capital, you decide to offer up all you have left for a stab at vengeance. You only have one condition, you join him on the job.
Word Count : 2,393
Ao3 link :
Your heart has been bleeding for approximately 367 days. Frayed at the ends and worn through in the middle, much like the threadbare cloak you wear. Beneath the low lantern light you can barely make out the empty streets ahead. The tall, looming buildings of Malanthia's capital city casting shadows over the cobbled roads. Chatter and music pours from the tavern across the street, even at such an ungodly hour. He will be there. He has to be there. 
The wooden door swings shut behind you, creaking on its hinges, but it's barely audible amidst the cacophony of the rowdy tavern. You navigate the crowd, quick on your feet, as you swivel left and right, dodging drunken men and dancing patrons. He won't be amongst the crowd. You scan the room, and your eyes land on a man sitting by the bar. His large figure absurdly disproportionate compared to the rickety old stool he sits on. You steel your nerves and approach.
"Sanguine," you callout over the noise, "I've got a job for you." If he heard you, he doesn't acknowledge your words. You clamber onto the stool next to him, peering over at him as he takes a long sip from his ale. He continues to stare straight ahead, his crimson eyes finding the wall behind the bar more interesting than you or your proposed job offer. He clenches his jaw as he seemingly contemplates something.
"I must warn you," he finally says, his voice low and gravely, "my services come at a hefty price."
You huff out a laugh. You knew as much. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a necklace encrusted with glittering jewels. It dangles, hanging from your fingers, its many gemstones glimmering in the dimly lit tavern. It's worth no small fortune.
"I have little interest in trinkets, ñina."
"This is worth coin. Lots," you insist, pushing it closer to him. He visibly shifts away, glancing down at the necklace with scrutiny. His lip quirks into what might be considered a ghost of a smile.
"You steal that?" he asks, his eyes betraying a glint of amusement.
"It belongs to my family," you say, placing it down on the counter. It's a family heirloom, the only thing you have left to remember your family by. It's priceless to you, but you know it'll fetch more than a pretty penny. You bristle when he reaches out to assess the necklace, feeling its weight on his gloved palm, rubbing his thumb over the center pendant. 
After a moment, he exhales softly, placing the necklace back down on the countertop. His eyes flit up to you and it feels as though he's looking past you. His crimson eyes tell a story; they tell a thousand stories. It's as if his mind is constantly someplace else, somewhere far from here. His shoulders sag, and he raises his hand to pinch his brow in annoyance. 
"What's the job?" his voice is barely above whisper, as though he wishes you won't hear the words as they slip past his lips with reluctance. But you do. You hear his question loud and clear. It's the happiest, if you could even call it that, you've felt in a year. His words hang in the air between you two as an inkling of hope.
"There's a man I want dead," you say solemnly, your fingers idly fiddling with the chain of the necklace. 
"Mierda..." he curses, "you're far too young for this." He slumps forward, bracing his arms on the table as he looks down at the last remnants of ale in the mug in front of him.
"Sotiro Cordero," you say firmly. The name spills from your lips before you can think better of it. A pin could have dropped, and you would have heard it. The room goes silent. Dozens of eyes fall on you and the merc. His name is like poison dripping off your tongue, killing the jovial atmosphere in an instant. Sanguine stands from the stool abruptly, its wooden legs screeching against the floorboards. His strength is inhumane as he grips the lip of the counter. You swear you can see the wood splinter under the pressure. He scoops up the necklace and shoots out to grab your wrist, dragging you from the tavern and onto the empty streets. The cold night air is a stark contrast to the warm respite the tavern had briefly provided.
"Tonto!" he hisses as he shoves you into a nearby alleyway. Stumbling forward from the impact, you catch yourself on the wall, pushing away and turning on your heel to face him. You watch helplessly as he tosses the necklace. It clangs against the wall before falling to the the ground.
"What the Hell!" you scramble to your knees to pick it up, cradling the precious heirloom in your hands.
"Your trinket is worth nothing to me. Sotiro Cordero's head is priceless." He turns away from you, carding a hand through his dark curls. 
"You and I both know that it's more than enough," you say bitterly as you check the pendants for any scratches.
"If the man you wanted dead wasn't one of the most powerful men in the city, then yeah, maybe," his shoulders shake, and for a minute, you think it's out of anger, but then he laughs.  Laughs.  "What could you have possibly done to get on his bad side? You're little more than a street rat."
You tense at the name.  Street rat . You have been called a dozen similar names in the past. Malanthia did not take kindly to orphans, even if they were a result of the wars the country itself, had waged. You had done your research, though. The Sanguine Blade is not so different from you.
"He killed my brother!" you snap back, a deep seated anger rises up from the depths, where it has been lying in wake for an opportunity to brandish its claws, "not just my brother, but others too. He's caused so much suffering. So who cares if I want him to feel it too?" You hold the necklace to your chest, it's gold chain pouring out from between your trembling fingers.
His smile falters as he looks down at you. His face quickly draws blank, but his eyes, as you've noticed, don't hide a thing. The residual sadness swirling within shows itself. Silence stretches between you. Neither of you are desperate to fill it, so you sit there. Your knees pressed against the dirty ground of the alleyway, and your eyes fixated on the leather boots in front of you.
"I don't-" you pause and look up at him, "I don't have anything. I just need this one thing. Sotiro isn't a good man by any stretch of the imagination."
"No, he isn't," his voice is barely above a whisper, "but he's a very powerful one."
"I've heard stories of you. It's said that you'll take on any job. The bloodiest ones, the most brutal ones, the ones that nobody else will do," you shift, finally standing back to your feet, still clutching the necklace to your chest, "I also know that you're a war orphan too. You know as well as I do that people don't spare us so much as a glance. We're vermin on these streets. Another nuisance these wars have caused. I'm tired of it. Men like Sotiro keep getting richer while victims of the wars they wage pay a much higher price."
He shakes his head as he moves to exit the alleyway, but he hesitates and turns to face you again. There is a battle going on in his head. Your words had gotten through to him, slipping through the cracks of his rough exterior. 
“Fine, okay. Tienes suerte de que odie este país y todo lo que representa. I will do this job,” he pauses when you open your mouth to speak, dismissing you with the wave of a hand, “but I can’t promise it will be quick.” 
“I just have one, uh, small… condition…” your voice nearly cracks as you draw nearer. He visibly tenses, and it’s like all the work you’ve done to unravel him has been erased as his shoulders draw up, and his fist clenches at his side.
“Aren’t I the one that should be making conditions? Habla pues. Spit it out.” his annoyance is clear, and you can see the gears turning as he begins to regret giving in.
“I want to join you on this job.”
“You want to become an accessory to murder?” he seems almost amused by your ‘small’ condition, but you can tell by the scowl that begins to form on his face that he is anything but happy with your condition.
“Technically speaking, by hiring you, I already am.” You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth. He goes silent as he pretends to mull it over.
“No. ¿Eres estúpido? It’s not happening,” his words are firm and hold an air of finality. The conversation is over, according to him, at least. “I will pay for your boarding tonight. Tomorrow morning we will discuss the details, and then we will go our separate ways.” You can hear his footfall, the shifting of his armour plates against one another, and the stretch of leather as he walks away. You lower your head, eyeing the necklace draped across the palms of your hands. Its cool metal is almost soothing as your heart thrums in your ears. You shake your head and follow after him, practically running to keep up with his long stride. 
 
….
 
 
“Do you think we’ll get to sleep in actual beds someday?” Sapir asked, calling your name. The two of you were situated by a makeshift campfire in some alleyway. Winters in the capital were always bitterly cold. The icy air nipped at your fingertips, and sent shivers crawling down your spine. The ocean breeze that was constantly rolling in only worsened the already frigid temperatures. Sapir sat across from you, atop a wooden crate. He looked at you with the same glimmer of hope his eyes always held. Your frown deepened. 
“I- I don’t know,” you hesitated on your words, unsure if your stutter was due to the cold or your reluctance to disappoint your little brother. You wanted to do better by him. You wanted to provide him with a cozy bed to sleep on, but the world often didn’t work that way; it didn’t allow that kind of comfort or security for people like you and your brother.
“Maybe someday,” you whispered. He stood and walked over, sitting down beside you. He smiled gently and leaned his head against your shoulder. Your words dissipated with the foggy vapour that slipped past your lips as you spoke. Sapir knew what you really meant.
 ‘Probably not.’ 
 
….
 
You wake up in a bed for the first time since you were eight years old. Your fingers desperately grapple with the sheets that pool at your waist as you sit up. The memories of  him  come in waves. Almost anything can ignite them, and before you can even process it, the spark has traveled down the wick and met the blasting cap.  Fuck. Will it ever get better?
Your eyes dart around the room, landing on the figure that's slouched on a chair in the corner of the room. His arms are crossed, and his head is turned down at an angle that will surely result in neck pain. Soft breaths escape him in bouts, some louder than others. He's snoring. To see such a gruff and serious man in a state of pure vulnerability is almost endearing.  Almost.  Bitter thoughts creep into your mind, clawing at the edges as you remember his words from yesterday. You have to find a way to get him to agree to let you join him on the job.
You have to be there. You have to watch the life drain from Sotiro's eyes. A twisted and aberrant part of you craves to see him writhe in pain. Will he beg for his life? Will he struggle against Sanguine's well trained blade? You squeeze your eyes shut, loosening your grip on the sheets and kicking them off your legs. The window across the room is ajar, and the lively sounds of the streets below flow inside, along with the salty seaside breeze. 
Sanguine stirs awake, seemingly sensing your movement. He squints at you from across the room and cranes his neck until the joint cracks. You grimace at the sound. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, the tips of your toes barely brush the creaky wooden floorboards.
“I’ll do anything,” you start, clasping your hands in your lap. His expression darkens as his brows knit together. “Please…I need to see this through.”
“You’ll be a hindrance. Eres solo una niña,” he grumbles, his voice deep and raspy. He stands up from his chair and walks across the room until he stops, in front of you. “What difference is it going to make? Whether or not you’re present in the room when he drops dead is entirely relevant.”
For the first time in a year you speak the words you’ve feared telling anyone. The words that you have had no one to tell them to. To acknowledge the unbridled rage that rests just below the surface, is to make the wickedness inside you a reality.
“There’s this… rage inside me,” your voice wavers, dancing the edge between solemnity and uncontained grief, “and- and I don’t know what to do with it.” You look down at your hands, breaking under the weight of his gaze. They aren’t stained with blood, not yet, but they are dirty from a life of thieving, a life of constant struggle. What’s one more crime if it means justice for your little brother? 
“Have you considered picking up a hobby instead of chasing after this revenge fantasy?” he asks without a vestige of sympathy. You whip your head up and look at him. The look you give is deadly. 
“Fuck you,” you practically spit the words at him. He stares at you for a moment before rolling his eyes. 
“If we do this,” he begins, and you swear your heart stutters to a stop, “we do it my way.”
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floatybug · 10 months
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SPOILERS FOR GO S2 and typos bc I'm sleepy
Okay let me talk about The Evil Genius of Neil Gaiman (tbh i don't actually think he's that evil, but he's Definitely a genius in my eyes)
This is all written after just finishing s2, I'm basing it off my initial emotions and stuff.
So, let's talk about The Kiss.
Obviously my or anyone else's fan Wants regarding the seasons aren't supposed to be made canon, but that doesn't mean we aren't going to have those Wants. I for one wanted them to Touch, in some way that would signify how much they care for each other, like a hug or holding hands visibly. But I wasn't really a part of the crowd that wanted them to consummate their relationship with a kiss or anything else that is considered typical romantic gestures (other than a kiss on the cheek, i think it'd be cute). Not because I hate queers having fun (queers who don't kiss for whichever reason are still queers), but bc I really enjoyed how their whole dynamic is that they so obviously care for each other in a very queer way but I felt as if a Typical romantic affection thing would mess with it. And boy oh boy am I NOT disappointed in what happened. I liked it in a sense that I didn't enjoy it at all. Because that's not how it's supposed to happen. Here's my read on it:
So. The face and noise Aziraphale makes when they part. He DIDN'T LIKE IT. I can't say he didn't maybe want to kiss Crowley, but he Clearly didn't like what happened there. He says "I forgive you" and it can obviously refer to a whole lot of things Crowley said before, I think it does, but it also very clear to me that he's talking about what Crowley did then and there. Because he didn't like the kiss at all. I rewatched that moment and I just can't find it in me to believe the face and noise he makes are happy ones or it's because the kiss has ended. I just don't believe that.
Now here's what makes it Really good: they never fucking talk. Kissing your partner, crush or old friend without asking for consent In Some Way is not very good and is in fact a violation of their private space (one that may not Have to result in a fine and a restraining order, but rather a personal conversation, but it's a violation regardless). What they Had to do was Talk. They both show in that very conversation that they care about each other Immensely, and want to be together. But here's the thing: they never say what actually matters in all of it. They say what they want to happen but they never say why. They never say "I want to be with you because I love you and care about you and want us to be together and safe" or anything similar. I'm also low-key wondering if they might be feeling different kinds of love (romantic vs platonic or queerplatonic) but it doesn't matter really. All of those can include kisses. What matters is that Crowley never said what's on his mind. Aziraphale never Actually did either. They said they want to be "us" or "together" but never say Why. And that lack of clear and proper communication is what causes things like unfortunate kisses to happen. AND they spend the entire season trying to solve romance with tropes , they clearly don't understand yet how it Actually works and what Crowley does there hit me so hard because it's something I've done when writing my own characters, both unintentionally and on purpose: he uses a trope in the hopes it'll solve the problem at hand. That if they kiss it'll all be okay. AND IT WILL NOT, and now it's kinda less okayer than it was before too
Anyway I needed to get this out of my system, if you disagree you don't have to tell me, also I am firm in my "Aziraphale didn't like the kiss" stance so don't fight me on it please be nice
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ok ik you get a lot of glitra stuff but u just write them so good so mayhaps a glitra with an "accidental" first kiss? whether one of them planned it, someone else did, or it was a genuine accident is up to you! love your writing and have a good day!
!! thank you so much for your kind words, anon, i hope you like what i've written!! :D
It happens at a football match. At a fucking football match, of all things. Glimmer cannot believe herself, or Catra, but she also can, because it's the sort of stupid, impulsive thing she'd do.
Okay, okay, back up, rewind just a little bit.
Catra is the manager of one of the biggest football teams in the country. She also works as a coach, alongside Adora, and Glimmer does a lot of management as well; the three of them work really well as a team.
It happens at the finals of the season, and it's the first time their team has ever actually made it to the finals. Catra bit her nails down to stubs last night, in anxiety, and Glimmer had forcefully put her to sleep by threatening to knock her out.
Anyways. She's getting off track.
The Etherians are tied with Prime, 3-3, and there are. 3 fucking minutes left in the game. Logically, Glimmer knows that if it ends in a tie they still have a chance; there's extra time and then the penalties. But she'd much rather get it over with, instead of dragging out the torture for longer. Glimmer can feel the tension all wound up in her, curling in her shoulders, as the Etherians lose the ball.
Fuck. If Prime scores, it'll be over.
Their star shooter [Glimmer can't be bothered to remember her name, right now] wounds up her foot for a kick, but Frosta, bless her tiny frame, zips in and steals the ball. The Etherian fans groan in relief, but all Glimmer feels is tension, tension, tension, as their team dribbles and dribbles and defenders tackle.
A hand finds her's. It's long, and slightly rough, and Glimmer realises, with shock, that it's Catra's.
"Ignore it," Catra grits out. "Come on, Perfuma, just kick the fucking ball. Kick it."
Perfuma passes to Scorpia.
She's- she's a good scorer, but when she's under pressure, under a ticking clock-
Things normally don't go so well.
Catra's hand tightens in Glimmer's, to the point of pain, but she doesn't let go; she squeezes back, just as tight.
Scorpia gets past a defender, and she's close enough that if she wants a shot, she can take it.
30 seconds left. It's this shot, or nothing.
A series of events:
Scorpia kicks, the goalkeeper dives;
And misses; the ball just barely scraping the edge of her fingertips and hitting the net with a soft thump. The crowd is silent for a heartbeat and explodes, with cheers and yells and Glimmer feels the noise rise up in her chest as there's suddenly a weight thrown on her.
Catra's jumped on her, her beautiful face alight with laughter and disbelief and joy, and she's light enough and her legs are wrapped around Glimmer, whose hands are locked under her thighs.
"WE WON!" she hollers, at the top of her lungs. "Sparkles, we WON, we won, we won-" she cuts herself off and leans in.
She doesn't have to move much for their lips to touch; their faces are already pressed close enough. Glimmer is shocked into not moving, just for a moment, but Catra's weight on her arms brings her to earth again.
She kisses back.
Catra pulls away first, and god, the expression on her face; Glimmer wants to freeze the world then and there so she can look at the way her eyes crinkle with unbridled happiness and the way her lips and cheeks are flushed red forever.
"We won," she whispers, and presses her forehead to Glimmer's. A slow smile crosses Glimmer's face, and she closes her eyes, ignoring the burn in her arms. They can deal. They're finally holding Catra.
[The championship was not the only thing they won today.]
---
god i took so many liberties with the game of football. i wanted to make it so that scorpia scored the goal that would tie them, and the game would end. i asked my brother if the game would end after a tie he told me ‘no’ and then he asked me why and i couldn’t say it was because i was writing gay fanfiction. anyways. cheers, thanks for reading, prompt answers will be posted every day, quotes are still on the way, thanks for sticking with me!! <33
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miarose21 · 3 months
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Chapter Eight: (part 2)
The Ambush:
We were awoken by all the commotion, there was screaming and metal clanging it was incredibly loud and still very much dark out.
“It's an ambush” someone screamed through all the noise
I shot up right away, what do they mean by an ambush, fuck. As I started to get a clearer idea of what was going on I looked to my left and right for Nightmare and Cyrice, but I couldn't see either of them, what was I going to do now? I started running around frantically looking for them, well trying to help as many people as I could get out of here and to safety.
“Cyrice, Nightmare where are you” I kept yelling over everything hoping that they would hear me, but it all seemed in vain since there still wasn't any answer
I kept searching and searching, not again, but just as the number of bodies I was passing started to become too much I ran right into one of the very people I was looking for. 
“Fuck owe, oh fuck Nightmare shit what happened” I stammered out rubbing my nose while trying to defend myself at the same time
“I don't know man they just came out of nowhere, also forgot how heavy of a sleeper you can be sometimes sorry,” he said trying to help someone out
“How did they even find us? Damn it”
“Well it was probably Nightmare’s fault cause he didn't fucking move when I told him to” Cyrice shouted from a couple of feet away
“Oh good you're safe-ish” I blurted out still trying to get people to safer places
“Ya I am so safe right now” he answered fending off attack after attack
“Okay, okay I'm sorry I didn't move, but we need to get these people out of here can I get chewed out later” Nightmare yelled while picking someone up
“Ya ya,” I said, not overly paying attention to them
As we continued to fight the sun started threatening to come up.
“We need to get everyone out of here now or we won't have any cover” I yelled
“Got it” they responded
As we started to properly evacuate everyone, the scoop of what we were dealing with came to light as we heard screaming from nearby. When we made our way toward it, however, all we saw were corpses.
“Oh no, how very unfortunate, all the toys are broken” one of the people standing in the middle of the now lifeless people laughed out
“I told you to keep some of them alive, I needed to try out a new poison”
“Oops my bad I forgot, but look we have more playthings coming this way so it'll be fine right”
“No you two idiots we need those three alive and in moderate condition,” the middle one said with his eyes clearly on us
“Nevermind” Cyrice said turning around
“Why did we go towards the screaming again,” Nightmare said holding the same sentiments as Cyrice
“Ya I'm not up for phycos either guys, by the way, can you fly now Nightmare or do we have to carry you” I said also walking in the other direction
“Umm cap, I think they are leaving,” the big guy said while pointing at us
“Then why are you still standing here,” he said, looking kinda annoyed
“So I think we should hurry our pace up a little Silver,” Cyrice said taking a glimpse behind us
“Hmmm judging by the footsteps I would say you are correct Cyrice” I replied, well most definitely speeding my pace to a run
“Umm sir they are now running in the other direction,” the short one said looking at us flee
“Do I have to do everything around here?” he said getting ready to catch up with us
“Run fast…er” I needed to say that faster for I went flying instead
“SILVER” Nightmare yelled
When did everything get like this, when did it all start going so very wrong? That's all I could think about before I hit the wall, the impact itself knocked everything out of me, and I mean everything. I could hear the boys yelling for me and the crowd of scared people, screaming and crying and begging for their lives to be spared as many tried to escape and failed. I can't fall here, not yet, I have people to protect and people who care about me that I don't want to see cry again.
As I lost consciousness, this feeling of despair and regret filled me, like there was nothing else in the world but that pain and anguish that I had felt for the last six months, but still I couldn't do anything about it, let alone help the people that really need me.
Nightmare’s perspective:
Damit, dammit all this isn't what was supposed to happen, if Silver loses consciousness we will be lucky if anyone makes it out of here alive.
“Cyrice we need to get out of here” I grunted out well blocking attack after attack after attack
“I know I know but how do you suppose we do that” he said while trying to dodge arrows shot by the people in the back
“Have you grabbed the damn mutt yet” the commander yelled while effortlessly attacking me
“Almost, sir,” the big guy said as he slowly approached Silver
“NO DON’T” I yelled
“Hehe can't save your friend now” the commander laughed out as he went to cut me down
But as soon as the big guy tried to grab her this whirlwind suddenly swept through the cliff edge. Sweeping away corpse after corpse, and when that wasn't enough it started to take people, enemy and ally alike.
“Ya I wasn’t saying that for our safety, it was for yours” I took the opportunity and pushed him off balance and then slid by “We need to get as many people out now, or we are gonna die” I shouted to Cyrice who was already kinda on it
As we started grabbing people one by one the big guy was still trying to get to Silver through all the wind, i don't believe that he had caught on to the fact that while she is unconscious she was the one producing everything. However, as soon as he got closer, the wind started getting colder and colder till it turned into a snow and ice storm.
“Okay we need to get out of here and hope everyone is safe, cause if we don't i don't want to know what happens when she gets to warm climate,” Cyrice said looking back at her
“Fine, but we are staying nearby just in case” I yelled over the ear-shattering winds and icy air
As we made our way off the cliff's edge, the screaming became almost non-existent, for it could not be heard over the fast-moving winds and metal clanging on the rock. Sometimes I forget how terrifying Silver’s magic can be when it's not contained, but in situations like these, I remember why I fear those blue eyes and that grey hair. She was the first one in generations to have the silver hair trait which already gives her a strength advantage, but to also be born with gold and the ability to control four elements. I never want to be on the opposing side of that especially once she's able to use magic.
“How long do you think we are gonna have to wait?” Cyrice asked, looking at people continuing to fall off the cliffside
“I don't know Cyrice, I hope it is not long however because my wing is still fucked” I answered watching as person after person dead or alive was thrown off the cliff face
“She’s gonna have a couple of broken ribs for sure,” Cyrice said, looking directly at her
“Oh ya can't wait to hear her complain about that one, it's gonna be so fun,” I said throwing my hands up in defeat
Cyrice kinda just started chuckling, however, that slowly turned into a somber look in the cave as the winds kept howling. We just floated there in silence for about an hour until Silver finally calmed down, and we were able to take her and leave. When we came across the others hiding out there were many who were injured and many who even after escape didn't make it. Our numbers were cut in half and the injured outnumbered the healthy.
“Oh thank the deities, you guys came back safely” Ivor sighed as she met us at the entrance
“Ya we came back safe, injured but safe” Cyrice mumbled as he put Silver down and walked to check on people and help with bandages
“What of the generals?”
“I have no idea” I answered, looking at her with contempt
“We are going to have to come up with a plan, we are down in numbers, and with Silver out of the count we are underpowered as well,” she said looking over at me
“Even if she did wake up she was thrown too hard, Silver won't be fighting let alone moving for a while,” I said sitting against the wall next to her
“Ah I see how it is,” Ivor said walking away and dealing with other stuff
“How long are you gonna make me sit here hoping you're gonna wake up huh Silver, you should stop worrying all of us like this, it gets tiring after a while,” I said, setting my sword down next to me and getting some shut-eye.
It’s been about a week now since the first ambush, and everyone who wasn’t severely injured is doing more or less fine now. Silver still hasn’t woken up, and Cyrice is being distant again. I've been trying to help Ivor with resources and training when people were up to it. However, if this continues the way it is, we are all doomed to fall sooner rather than later.
“How much longer do you think she will be like that?” I asked Cyrice
“I don’t know, most of her injuries are healed if not pretty much there, whatever is going on with them is likely mental, think about everything that has happened to us or even just her alone during these six long months” he responded checking over me one more time 
“Even when they do wake up, we have no good news for her,” I said looking right at her with my head hung low
“We will find where they are keeping Eclipse and Nightshade before she wakes up I’m sure of it,” Cyrice said, getting up from the ground and putting his cloak on
“I hope you're right,” I said, putting my hood up and joining him
I made sure to check in with Ivor before leaving so that she knew we weren’t here, just in case we got attacked again. I want everything to be okay, but that doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen, and the first thing we need for that is the two troublemakers back in our care.
Meanwhile, on Nightshade and Eclipse’s side:
“Well this could be worse, right Eclipse,” I said looking at him chained up in the opposite cell
“Oh ya so much worse, you know you shouldn’t say that in situations like this right,” he said looking at the situation
“Ya but I’m having fun aren’t you,” I said smiling as the chains clanged
“That is exactly why you're hanging from the ceiling and I get to sit on the floor,” he said looking up at me
“Yes, well unlike you, I’m not a screamer” 
“Ah Nightshade that’s not funny,” he said turning away
We heard footsteps coming down the stairs, so we made the collective decision to stop talking with each other. As the footsteps kept getting closer, however, I could see all the life start draining from Eclipse’s face, frankly, I can’t blame him, this isn’t exactly the best of situations.
Honestly, they have already tried the whole torturing us in front of each other gimmick, though that was pretty ineffective since I didn’t say or do anything when Eclipse was the one getting the brunt of it except try not to laugh at his high-pitched screaming. When I was the one on the other end of a blade I didn’t really make a whole lot of noise other than some laughing and taunts, Eclipse, on the other hand, made it very clear with the way he was staring at the guy that he was gonna for sure remember his face and deal it back tenfold. Man, he cannot hide his true murderous intent towards someone.
“Oh im glad you two are awake” the tall man said as he stopped infornt of our cells
“Yes im sure you are over the moon” i said smiling 
He turned to looked at me, only to show scorn and then turned to Eclipse. The man was just far enough over that I could see Eclipse’s fearful face.
“Hahaha the look on your face is always enough to bring up my day, boy” he said motioning for the guard to unlock the door
“Your pathetic” i said chuckling a little
“Sir, sir” a guard yelled as he ran down the long winding hallway
“What is it, I'm a little busy” he hissed back
“We think we found their base” the guard spoke
“Oh really now” he said with a shit eating grin plaster on his face
“I’m sorry children it seems I have some adulting to do” he said turning around and walking away, however he stopped and turned to face again with a pleasing smile on his face “but don't worry they will take great care of you in my stead” he said as two people walked past him
One was incredibly tall and lanky, almost like a walking skeleton had just appeared. The other was a short but confident woman who seemed to fill the room with an odd odor, almost like hemlock.
The woman looked at eclipse with an almost disturbingly excited expression.
“I've never gotten to test anything on a wolf before, this will be quite entertaining” she said with a dark grin and barely contained glee
“We need them alive, remember” he stated while making his way towards Eclipse “Would you like me to let your friend down?” He said in a almost sickeningly sweet way
Before Eclipse could actually answer his question he cut the bars plus the chains and put me on the ground, almost trying not to let me get hurt but also making sure that his intentions were clear to no one else but me.
“Had a feeling you wouldn't believe me when I asked, so I did it anyway” he said in the same irritating tone
He then brought out a flask which seemed to contain water and as he rolled it towards eclipse, I gave him the stare of don't you fucking dare.
“Here I figured you and your friend might be thirsty” he said in a slightly concerned but commanding tone as he shoved it towards Eclipse
“Ha do you really think I would trust you?” he said kicking the flask right out of his hand and across the cell
As soon as he made any inkling of murder however the guards had him surrounded and restrained. The man however, just looked at the flask and when he regained his composure, he moved to get it and also wave the guards off.
“Of course not why would you, being in unfamiliar place with harsh conditions would make anyone jaded” he said lifting the flask up and taking a large swig himself “here, you should quench that thirst which seems to be making you so uneasy” he pleaded trying to convey all that stored up empathy, which he clearly doesn't have
Eclipse decided to pick the damn thing up and take a decent sized swig himself. He seemed fine, but the women looked too overjoyed for that to be the case. In all of his glory, he lifted the flask in offering.
“Ah there ya go doesn't that feel so much better like a weight was lifted right off your chest” he said grabbing the flask and turning in my direction
He ever so diligently brought the flask closer and closer to my cell all well a smile crept onto his face, one my red-headed friend was never going to see. For what it was worth, he did try making me drink whatever was actually in the flask.
“Here you should hydrate, it might make you feel better” he said 
“I am a lot of things which your guards seem to love laughing about well thinking themselves out of ear shoot, however i am not as stupid and easily won over as my dumbass of a friend over there” I said looking annoyingly at Eclipse from where I sat
“What it seemed safe” he yelled back, noticing my gaze
“You are a wolf for crying out loud how hard is it to take a good sniff of the flask before you take this man at his word, you idiot”
He leaned in just close enough that no one would hear and whispered something for my ears only.
“I would reconsider your fruitless decisions, unless you want him to finish whatever it is on his own, one way or another you will be drinking from this flask” he said backing up and leaving the flask behind “look I simply want you to stay alive for a little while longer, and frankly staying hydrated is a way to do that, right? So be a good girl and drink your water” he said feigning ignorance
“Go right ahead, I’m more concerned about what your boss would do instead of you to disposable goons, that anything you could do to us” I said kicking over the open flask
“Okay that enough, I attempted to be kind to you, to throw away all my wants and needs, but you just couldnt understand, i really did try my hardest, but you had to be a whiny little bitch and ruin everything” he sneered in my direction spitting at me with every harsh word, making sure to emphasise that he could never be the problem
Before I could even think of responding, he kicked me swiftly and with much force as I slammed into the wall, breaking most if not all my ribs as that was the place of impact. He then picked me up by my neck and threw me at the wall near where the bars met the stone. As I sit up against the wall, I look over to see that crazy lady crouching next to Eclipse with a pen and paper, as he curled up into a ball muttering incoherently to himself and seemingly rocking back and forth. 
“Oh so you still dare to look away, to worry about anyone and everyone but yourself, how selfish” he spat at me grabbing me by the back of the neck as he shoved my face against the remaining bars
“Ha your one to talk, look at how you're reacting, can't deal with me paying attention to anyone but your self” i said putting my hands against the cold metal
“By how calm you are being it would seem this isn't the first time you've failed to protect yourself, but unlike those times no one is coming for you” as his hand traced the scar on my back, an uncoverable shiver ran through me just enough that he noticed “considering how you reacted, I would take a wild guess and say you weren't the only one injured, pathetic runt couldn’t even save herself how is she supposed to save anyone else, I bet you are the cause for all of there misfortune, either way I bet they haven't forgotten what you did, just like you never could get a restful night”
I just started laughing hysterically, there was nothing that felt more real to me than the words of a crazed lunatic. However, well there was some truth to the words he was spewing they were baseless, and frankly insulting.
“You're an idiot” I managed to get out through all the laughing 
“Ah of course, laugh the pain away all you want, but I can still see the anguish you feel, and frankly it'd be less pathetic if you could accept it, but instead you put on a little facade to hide how useless you truly feel”
“Your right useless is definitely something I use to describe myself, however you are incredibly self-centered and stupid, especially since you blabbered so long that I was able to alert my brother to where I was, I am so proud of you” I said managing to get out of his grasp only to shine my brightest smile, before collapsing
“Fuck!! Welp I'm not telling him” he hissed looking at the short woman in a commanding way
“No way in fucking hell am I telling him that” she yelled back, sticking her notes in a pocket on her dress
“Tell me what?” a recognizable voice bellowed down the hall in announce at the twos antics
“Nothing boss” the tall one said bowing in respect, as the short one just looked away
“Uhm the girl claims she leaked our location to her brother and now he and potentially others are on their way sir” a unfamiliar voice chimed in
An audible thud was heard not long after, as a murderous aura filled the small space. It was suffocating.
“Leave now, or so help me all of your heads will be rolling, do you hear me” he yelled trying to maintain what little patience he had left
“Yes sir” they all yelled as the sound of footsteps slowly moved away
“And you two, bring me the silver wolf now or your heads will roll”
“Yes sir” they replied trembling words noticeable as their footsteps also disappeared into the depths of the halls
“Now for you” he said very much standing over me “if I didn't need you alive you and your friend would be dead, do not forget this isn't kindness this was an order” he said turning and leaving us alone in the dark dungeon
At least they can finally bring the fight to them.
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spunkpunx · 2 years
Text
Slush Puppy - Part 1
George Daniel x Reader x (Slight) Matty Healy
Chapter 1: Banquet
"She got such a dirty mind and it never ever stops And you don't taste like her and you never ever will."
Warnings: My set special; Swearing, recreational drug use (weed & MDMA), smoking, drinking, smut
Wordcount: 12.5k
Taglist: @imagine-that-100 @emo-milk :)
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"Nervous, babe?" asked Matty. I shrugged, offhandedly.
"Not really."
"Liar."
Matty was quickly met with an elbow in the ribs. He was being more annoying than usual, full of his own nervous energy. I couldn't actually blame him, after all, this was a huge crowd.
He pouted at me, withdrawing the arm that had been laying across the back of the sofa from around my back and holding his side in mock pain. I rolled my eyes, but he had been right about his initial guess. Nerves fizzed about in my stomach, and I could feel my heart palpitate at the thought of getting up on stage in front of all those people. I heard a camera click and glared at Hann.
"Sorry," he said, replacing the lens cap onto his new Leica, a camera I was still jealous of. "You two looked cool."
Hann took good photos, but I didn't like being photographed at the best of times, let alone stressing out in the green room before a gig. I hoped at least I'd be able to look at it before it ended up on his Instagram, although it seemed unlikely that he would post it without asking.
Danny, the front man of my own band, was sat across from us in the green room. He would have seemed irritatingly calm to most, but I noticed the way he kept flexing his hands, his eyes flickering to the door every time he heard a noise. I pulled a face at him to let him know I was feeling the same, and he returned it. Kirsten, our drummer, was adding more glitter to her own face, using a brush and a tub of Vaseline, investing herself into the task. Hann took a photograph of her and she turned to him grinning. I didn't doubt that it would come out well. Kirsten was extremely beautiful, tall and slender with olive skin and blonde curls. Her face came straight out of a magazine, with full lips and hazel eyes and a smattering of freckles across her Grecian nose. Plus, she played drums, which made her incredibly cool. For now, she seemed okay, maybe her hands were a little shaky, but it was more than could be said for the remaining band member. Leon was still in the toilet, being sick.
I tried not to think about it too much, it would just keep winding me up. He was drunk, and not in the usual 'tipsy before we go on stage' drunk, but blind staggering drunk. The rest of us had unsympathetically left him to his whiteying with a bottle of water and an instruction to sober up. I bristled again at the prospect he might fuck this up for us, as harsh as it was. Maybe at a smaller venue I could forgive him, but there were over 2,500 people in the audience. I couldn't shift the unease about what we might do if he couldn't play. There was no plans in place, no solution discussed with any of the management or crew. We didn't have a replacement, and we couldn't play without him. The fear cloyed in the pit of my stomach. My knee bounced rapidly, and I kept running my nails across my pre-show, comfortable jeans. Matty raised his eyebrow at me, pulling his knees up so his feet were on the sofa.
"Pft, not nervous my arse," he pointed out. He reached a hand out, placing it on the back of my neck so I turned my head to him. "Honestly, babe. You'll be fine. You'll be great," he assured me, and I nodded, unconvinced. "Danny, you tell her."
"It'll be fine, he'll be back," Danny assured me, unconvincingly.
"We don't know that," I snapped, immediately regretting it when Danny frowned. He'd been my best mate for years, and when a worried look crossed his face I felt guilty for my edginess. I needed to calm down, so I pulled myself up from the sofa, out of Matty's reach, ignoring his questioning look. "Fucking hell, I'm going for a walk. I need a minute," I excused myself, then made my way out of the room and down the hall.
I hated corridors, the way they stretched out and kept going, like a strange perspective trip. I considered the possibility that that might have something to do with the memory of going out into a hotel corridor with a full sized mirror at the end while on acid. It wasn't an explicitly horrible experience, but it did feel like a scene out of Paprika. The memory had obviously stuck with me enough for all corridors to feel a bit surreal, and this effect was doing little to quash my racing thoughts.
I didn't know exactly where I was going, but it turned out I didn't need to. I bumped into Ross, who was heading toward the room I'd just escaped. I'd always liked Ross a lot, he was laid back and approachable, and we both were bassists so there was a lot of mutual respect.
"Hey, you alright?" he asked me, resting a hand on my jittery shoulder. I flashed him an affirming smile.
"Yeah, fine. Do you know where he is?"
"Leon? I haven't seen him."
"Not Leon. George."
"Oh, right. He's in the women's bathroom."
"What?" I spluttered, a grin stretching across my face. Ross laughed at my reaction.
"Don't worry, he's just smoking a joint in there, something about it being cleaner and having better ventilation," he explained.
"Oh, well I suppose that makes sense. Matty and Hann are in there," I told him, gesturing the door.
"Yeah, Matty texted me," Ross explained, and I wondered when he'd managed to do that because I hadn't seen him on his phone at all. I supposed I hadn't been paying that much attention.
"Right, well I'll be back soon," I told him. "I'm only going for a leg stretch and a smoke."
Ross gave me a quick hug anyway and went through to the others in the green room. I made a decision to find George, hoping that he might help assuage my nerves slightly and put my mind at ease. I was glad he was in the women's bathroom to be honest. Firstly, because the chances of one of the boys walking in was now dramatically narrowed and secondly, because I now had a great excuse for running into him. After all, how could he question my presence in there? The toilets were down the hall and to the right. I pushed through the door.
The whole room was slightly muggy with smoke, and at first I thought my eyes had gone blurry. George was sat on the toilet seat, blowing out smoke rings, the door had been wedged open, presumably so he could talk to Ross while he was in here without them both having to cram into the stall. When he heard me come in he jumped, quickly fanning away the smoke with his hand. It was a pointless effort, the room stunk of the stuff.
“Fuck, (y/n), it’s you,” he sighed, relieved. “Some girl from the stage crew came in before, I thought she might have called management on me.”
“Ha! You’re going to end up in the Daily Mail, skulking about in the ladies’ bogs,” I teased, walking over to him and leaning on the door frame. I reached my hand out for the spliff and he passed it to me. I toked it deeply, exhaling it upwards, hoping it might find it’s way out of the vents, although it seemed unlikely. “Fucking hell, G. You’ve hot boxed the shit out of this place.”
“Have I?" he asked quite sincerely, looking around as if checking that my statement was true. "Fuuuck… Whoops?”
I chuckled at his reaction, and he grinned back at me, eyes crinkling in the corners.
“You seem quite stoned,” I pointed out, and the dopey smile that remained on his face confirmed my guess. “Do you not get paranoid doing these gigs when you’re super high?”
“Not really, I mean, maybe if I smoked a blunt right before I went on, but to be honest most of this will have worn off by then. It just gives me something to do in the waiting time. You know, break it up before the anticipation gets to me,” he explained and I nodded an understanding. I handed him back the spliff. “How are you feeling about the show tonight?” he asked. I frowned, reminded of the reason I was stressed in the first place.
“Not good. Leon is still A.W.O.L, and now even Danny is getting stressed,” I explained.
“Shit, even Danny is stressed? What are you going to do?”
The fear and frustration got to me a little at his question and I had to take a deep inhalation of breath before I choked up. I wasn't about to allow myself to do something stupid like burst into tears in front of him.
“I don’t know," I mumbled honestly.
George handed me back the spliff with a sympathetic smile and I accepted it gratefully. There was only the last bit left. I smoked it down and he pulled himself up off the toilet seat, taking the roach from me and tossing it into the toilet with the others. It hissed as it touched the water.
“Right, let’s go find go find Leon and straighten him out a bit, I’ll help. He’ll be alright for the show,” George announced.
“Really?” I asked, glad someone was offering me a solution.
He nodded, manoeuvring himself through the doorway without asking me to move. It was a close fit and he was almost pressed up against me, but it was too late to try and get out the way and to be honest I didn't want to. I breathed him in unintentionally as he passed me. He smelt really good, like weed and a faint cologne, something heady and musky that made my mind feel a bit hazy. My breath hitched and I hoped the heat in my cheeks wasn’t visible. God, I thought. This man was something else.
He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, stretching out his arms and back from cramping his tall body into a toilet cubicle. I tried not to watch where his shirt rode up, or where the muscles in his biceps flexed. In fact, I suppressed some quite lewd thoughts, which made my face flush again. It was strange, because I wasn’t the blushing type at all. He looked at me as if he’d just realised something.
“Er, if you need to go for a piss I can wait outside.”
My brain quickly went through a series of lies and excuses and managed to land on the truth.
“Oh, I didn’t need it, I saw Ross in the corridor and he said you were in here.”
“Oh,” he responded, maybe slightly surprised. He smiled at me anyway. “Great, we’ve got more time to look for him, come on.”
We mooched around the corridors, poking our heads into different rooms to see where he was. George was still dopey from the weed and following me around as the show grew closer and I got increasingly stressed. We asked a stage hand if they’d seen him and they reluctantly said they hadn’t. As even more time passed and Leon was still missing I started to panic that he might have gone back to the hotel. George ended up stopping me, putting a large hand on my shoulder, heat radiating from his hand through my clothes.
“Hey, hey,” he reassured me, running gently circles on my arm with his thumb. “Just take a minute, then we can go and check the gents. There’s plenty of time before the show, okay?”
I took a deep breath, regaining composure and feeling embarrassed of getting so worked up in front of George. He was right, there was time.
“Okay,” I agreed. He gave my arm a quick squeeze and then lead the way toward the men's room, and I followed behind rather pathetically. When we got the the door George paused to see if I was going in with him, but I'd already got in ahead of him. There were two stalls in the bathroom and a row of urinals. One of the stalls was occupied. There was no one else in there, luckily.
"You're not shy," George pointed out to me, a slightly impressed tone in his voice. I shrugged.
"Lee? Are you in here?" I called out, hoping to god it was Leon in the stall.
"Mopsy? Is that you?" came a miserable grumble. I let myself wonder how he remembered to call me that stupid teenage nickname when he was this wasted.
"Yeah, mate, it's me. Open the door."
"Just a minute," he garbled, and then came a long pause in which nothing happened. I banged on the divide.
"Open the fucking door, man," I demanded more sternly, and I heard him shuffle about. I turned to George, pulling a face to demonstrate my frustration, and he laughed. The door swung open, and I assessed the damage. Leon was bent in half with his elbows on the toilet bowl. Immediately I smelt the vomit and I recoiled slightly. "God, mate, I'm surprised you've got anything left to throw up." He didn't reply, instead he just put his head back down on the toilet seat in annoyance. I turned back around to George, silently asking what to do next. He shrugged, and I sighed.
"George, you're gonna have to help. I'm struggling with being sympathetic. I don't even know how he got into this state." I turned back to the queasy guitarist. Luckily, he seemed to have sobered up a bit, and the only problem now was his stomach trying to expel the remainders of the booze he'd consumed.
"I don't know, maybe give him some water? I'll text Matty, he should be able to bring some down," he suggested. I hesitated, unsure if I wanted Matty here. There were two possibilities; either he'd be incredibly helpful and great at dealing with Leon, or he'd get over excited and start flapping about, demanding things from staff and managers. We needed water though, so I decided it was worth the odds.
"Yeah, get him here please, G." I gave him what I hoped was a grateful smile. Leon raised his head from the toilet bowl.
"Is that drummer George?" he asked tiredly. Okay, so perhaps he wasn't quite as sober as I'd initially hoped.
"Yeah, it's drummer George," I told him. He raised a weak hand in a thumbs up. I made eye contact with George and shot him a 'don't laugh' look, which of course made us both want to immediately burst out laughing. We stifled giggles, and George tapped out a message to Matty.
When Matty rocked up a couple of minutes later, most of the nausea had seemed to have passed. He swaggered in, not yet changed into his stage clothes, just wearing a hoodie and jeans. In one hand he held his phone and a bottle of water, in the other an open bottle of red wine. This seemed to be a bad sign. George and I shared a worried glance.
"Alright, babe, how's he doing?" Matty asked, hooking his arm over my shoulders and pulling me closer to the cubicle to peer in at my band mate. "Ugh! That's fucking vile," he laughed, taking another swig from the bottle. "I'm surprised he's not completely hollow at this rate," He paused, waiting for a response. "You know? Maybe all his insides got sicked out."
"Yeah, Matty, I got the joke," I muttered, trying to extract myself from his grip, but he just held on more, pulling me into him so our heads touched.
"Have a drink, darling," he encouraged, and out of the corner of my eye I saw George looking between the two of us. Matty brought the bottle to my lips, and I reluctantly tipped my head back, letting him watch me gulp some back until he decided to let me catch a breath and took his own sip of wine. George quickly came in, taking the bottle from Matty.
"Come on mate, we don't need either of you in the same state as him," he reasoned, gesturing Leon. Somehow, this worked, and Matty came to slightly, accepting an authoritative role and instructing me and George on how to get Leon up and running again. He provided light entertainment while George and I squatted next to Leon, who was sat on the floor. Together we encouraged him to take little sips of water until he started keeping them down and returning to his normal self, although admittedly his motor functions were a little slow.
Soon, the show was growing close and we managed to walk Leon back to the dressing room. Luckily, he had somehow avoided getting any sick on himself, bar a little down his front. George and Matty reclined themselves on the chairs in the corner and I propped a weary Leon up on the sideboard. A little hacked off that it had become my job, I helped him pull his t-shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner of the room to be dealt with later, then assisted him into his white button down that he wore for stage. Standing at around 5'11, Leon wasn't a slim man. He was well-built, soft stomached with strong arms and legs, something that suited his wavy black hair and rings and earrings. I wondered how he'd managed to get so drunk. I also wondered how I had ended up dressing a sturdy 26 year old man. I buttoned his shirt up to the cross necklace he wore. He looked rough, but I supposed it would be alright with the stage lighting, and no one was going to be that close to him. I could always get Kirsten to put some glitter on him.
"Thanks, Mops," he nodded gratefully. I wasn't happy with him, but he seemed so forlorn that I felt a little sorry for him, so I gave him a sympathetic smile and ran my fingers through his hair to fluff it out a bit.
"Right, I'm going to have to get ready quickly," I mused out loud. I didn't bother to kick the boys out, after all, Leon had shared many dressing rooms with me, and Matty, well, it definitely wasn't anything he hadn't seen before. I pulled my t-shirt over my head, going over to the rail to grab the frilly white dress off of it. There was no way I was going to risk wearing white clothing before necessary. It was only George who seemed surprised when I stripped out of my trousers. Leon was oblivious and Matty, although smug, was unfazed. I pulled the dress over my head and pretended like George's unsubtle gaze at my body didn't make my skin feel hot. The wine bottle had returned to Matty's hand and as I pulled my tights up my legs he wolf whistled, so I fixed him a glare. "Piss off," I scolded him. He nudged George, raising the bottle up.
"Cheers to sights like these!"
---
The moment before we went on might have been the most terrifying moment of my entire life. I held on to Danny's hand like a lifeline, and he clung onto me just as tightly. 2,550 people cheered as the stage lights came on, and my heart hammered against my chest, the thundering sound filling my head as my ears rushed with blood. I hardly felt Danny's hand slip from mine as he walked onto the stage. I couldn't remember following him, or facing the crowd. In fact, it was hard to even recall the slight release of pulling my bass strap over my shoulders, or feeling the solid neck between my fingers. It was a brand new bass, my new pride and joy; a 1970s Gibson EB-3 in cherry red. The audience's screams filled my ears. I needed to just play the first note of the first song, but I was locked up. It was just one note, and then the next would come. Nausea filled me, and I considered the possibility that I might be sick on stage. My hands shook, but I just needed to play the first note. Danny looked over at me, waiting. He looked terrified, more terrified than I'd ever seen him, and I knew I had to do something, so I did. I played, and the muscle memory took over.
Somehow we got through the show successfully. Leon played guitar surprisingly well, albeit looking very miserable and rough while doing it. Somehow he'd gained his own super-fan base in within The 1975's own crowd. There were several teenage girls with signs clamouring for his attention, but he was too down-trodden to play up to them tonight. After the first song it became easy, the fear overtaken by the thrill. Despite having more red wine and a spliff before going onstage, those intoxicants only made the experience heightened and whoever was the sound engineer for the venue really needed a raise. Every bass lick I played vibrated through the crowd without overpowering the other band members. Danny was amazing as usual, but nothing less could be expected from the enigmatic Danny Kayode. It filled me with pride to see him on stage, full of energy and charisma and moving around in the way that only he seemed to be able to move, toes bouncing in black and white converse, wearing black trousers and a colourful Kampala shirt. Kirsten had put glitter underneath his eyes, and it sparkled off of him like glistening tears on his skin. At one point he brought himself and his Telecaster over to face me, and we danced as we played the call and response section of the song. I couldn't help grinning at him as he head banged, until he bumped my head by mistake and both of us laughed so hard he missed his next lyric.
We were all sweating from the lights and buzzing with the exhilaration of the performance when we came off stage. No drug could compare to the sheer elation I felt. It was like cocaine pulsing through every vein. Kirsten grabbed me by the shoulders and planted a kiss onto my lips, then Danny came over and scooped me up into a hug, spinning me around with ease and setting me down again. His deep brown eyes glinted in the stage lights and I could still hear the cheers of the crowd.
"How the fuck did we get here?" he beamed excitedly, and as I looked at him I saw my seventeen year old best friend who I'd begun this band with, and then the amazing man he'd become.
"I don't know mate," I admitted, and pulled him into another tight hug, quickly joined by Leon and then Kirsten.
We returned to the green room. The 1975 band members were just gathering up their things, probably preparing to go to the stage. Matty accosted Danny straight away.
"Danny Kayode! That was brilliant, we went to the side of the stage to watch," he gushed. He'd got changed, now wearing a black suit with a striped shirt and a tie suitable of the 'office wildcard'. At some point he'd dug into Kirsten's makeup bag and smudged black onto his eyelids. He looked cool, I thought to myself, effortlessly so.
"Why do you always call him by his full name?" Hann questioned from the back of the room, a cheeky grin on his face.
"Because his name is cool as fuck!" Matty explained, releasing Danny from his grip. "Danny Kayode. See? It just rolls off the tongue."
"Daniel Adedayo Kayode," attempted Leon, in a quite horrifying attempt at a Nigerian accent that made the room cringe collectively.
"Fucking hell man," Danny laughed. "Never do that again."
"Shit, that was awful, Lee," I chuckled.
"I didn't think it was going to come out like that," Leon defended himself sheepishly. "In my head it sounded good." At least he seemed to see the funny side of his own mistake though. Clearly the stimulation of the show had boosted his mood somewhat.
"Right, we've gotta get on stage," Matty announced. Danny gave him a sort of bro hug and wished him luck, then him and Leon got their stuff together, ready to go back to the hotel. Kirsten and I had elected to stay and watch the show, so we were going to go into the guest area. I gave Hann and Ross a quick hug each, apologising for my own sweatiness, which neither of them minded. George came near to me next, and once again I had to hide how flustered he made me, which was pretty easy because I was already a mess from playing. He, on the other hand, looked slightly too good, his hair tied back at the minute but I didn't doubt it would be all over his face at the end of the gig. He also wore a white shirt, rolled up to his elbows, showing the tattoos on his forearms, and as he stepped closer to me the same musky scent of his cologne filled my nose. He smiled at me, looking at me so sweetly I thought I might melt. I put my arms around him for a tight squeeze and tried to linger in his warm embrace. Eventually, I had to pull away, hyper aware that he might think it was odd, but he didn't seem to notice.
"Thanks, G. For helping me out today," I told him sincerely, and he gave me a nod.
"Anything for you, eh?" he grinned. My attention was ripped from him, however, when Matty barreled towards me, wrapping himself around me with no consideration for the conversation we'd begun.
"Babe! Where's my love and attention?" he butted in, in typical Matty Healy fashion. I let out a laugh at his antics. "Hey, no laughing matter. If you're doing it for Ross and Hann then I definitely want in on the action."
"Ugh, fine!" I complained, feigning annoyance. I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave him what was going to be a quick hug but turned into a slightly longer cuddle, because Matty wouldn't let go of me. He finally released me and, quite unexpectedly, grabbed my face to plant a big kiss on my lips, which might have been a big deal if it had been anyone else, but that was quite standard behaviour for Matty. The man was known for being quite lax with boundaries.
"Right, Georgie!" he announced. "Let's go!"
We arranged to meet them after the show, Danny agreeing that he might come along later and Leon telling us that he needed at least 24 hours to recover before he could drink again, so that at least his stomach lining could replenish. I gave George a little wave as he left the room, and he returned it with a half smile.
"Fuck me, Matty is pretty hands on with you," Kirsten pointed out to me as we walked down the corridor toward the stairs that would lead us into the function room, along with the journalists and management and complimentary champagne (or more often prosecco).
"It's just Matty," I brushed her off. "He's a bit hands on with a lot of of people." She shrugged, unconvinced.
"He's never that hands on with me," she muttered.
"Hey, I've just known him for ages," I explained. She hmm'd my response.
"I just think he might fancy you, is all." I shrugged noncommittally, not wanting to give any of my thoughts away. "Oh come on, (Y/n)! You're telling me you wouldn't?" she ribbed me, laughing in disbelief. It took a lot of effort not to tell her outright. She was so close to the truth, but so far away at the same time.
"Matty doesn't fancy me," I told her simply, coming up to the door to the guest room. There was a security man there, but he had already seen the lanyards around our necks, holding the door for us with a smile. "Come on Kirsten, shut up about Matty, lets get pissed!"
"Now that I'll drink to!"
"What? Getting pissed or shutting up about Matty?"
"Both."
Kirsten and I found a table. The function room was extremely well placed. It was a huge, decadent room with a bar and doors down to the guest seating area. The doors were open, and the crowd were almost beneath us, talking and cheering at the stage in anticipation of the band coming on. I sort of missed the opportunity of being able to go down and stand in the crowd, but the chances we might be recognised seemed to be a risk according to our management and we weren't allowed. A lot of the die-hard 1975 fans knew a lot about us, and although I was certain that once Matty was on stage their attention would be diverted, that hadn't been good enough reason to allow it.
I still wasn't used to the being recognised thing. Usually it wasn't even as the bassist in the band, it was as a friend of Matty's, or a friend of George's, simply for cropping up on one of the boys Instagram stories. A lot of the time I'd get handed scribbled down notes to give to certain band members, which I dutifully passed on without looking at. That was until Matty pointed out how weird some of the letters were, and then I started reading them properly so I didn't give him any more notes along the lines of 'dear Matty, I want to have your babies because you are so sexy. Love Molly, 14 xxxx'. After that they were more appropriately vetted to nice letters about how much the bands music meant to certain people, as opposed to underage erotica and thirsty writings involving the word 'daddy' far too often to be normal. Sometimes the fans were so young and polite and demure that it was quite jarring to read some of the things that they had been confident enough to write down. I felt bad binning them, but I also understood why Matty might not want to see them.
Kirsten brought a whole tray of complementary champagne to our table and a jobsworth waiter came over and told us we weren't allowed to take that many drinks. I told him that we were just saving ourselves the journey to the bar and that he could piss off, while Kirsten giggled at my brazenness. It was only when he began getting irate and I became more stubborn that she intervened, turning on the charm to blink her eyelashes at him and ask sweetly if he'd let it slide as we were friends of the band. She almost wet herself laughing when I made a series of rude gestures at his back in a very Rik Mayall way.
We made our way through a few of the flutes of booze before I asked if Kirsten thought I had enough time to nip for a quick cigarette and then meet her by our seats. I took the risk, but the only smoking area was down the stairs and out so by the time I got back they were part way through their first song. We left our seats quickly, moving to lean over the balcony to watch the rest of their set, which was of course brilliant. The whole thing was so meticulous, from the sound production to the insane stage set up and light display. Matty did his usual preacher routine, but I had to admit it really worked for him. Somehow he managed to adopt the air of a powerful public speaker, not just a pop star spilling out the same drunk rhetoric. It was George who I watched most though, he was totally absorbed in the drums and his hair, as I predicted, had come lose and fallen across and around his face. I tried not to overthink how captivating I found him, and instead let myself indulge in watching him from afar.
When the band finished their set, the crowd was crazy and Kirsten and I were quite drunk. We made our way back out to the smoking area, together this time, and ended up staying there for almost twenty minutes just talking and laughing about stupid things. By the time we got back to the function room the band had arrived, and were being crowded by a bunch of journalists who were pretending not to crowd them, which resulted in a sort of circular huddle around them like some kind of hostile bubble. I spluttered a laugh and shared my thoughts with Kirsten, who found it just as funny as I did. We went back to our seats, deciding that the boys would come over when they got the opportunity. At one point we were approached by a kind faced woman who wanted to know if we'd answer a few questions about the band. Of course, being drunk idiots we treated her interview like a pub quiz, just coming up with the silliest answers we could to make each other laugh. She left with essentially nothing to work with and I knew we'd get bollocked by management for squandering a good press opportunity, but my throat hurt from laughing and my eyes were streaming with tears so I couldn't bring myself to care.
Matty came over after half an hour of appeasing journalists and offered us both a hand each to pull us out of our seats.
"Come on ladies, lets blow this joint," he announced, acting the part of a gentleman and leading us to the doorway with an arm around each of our waists. I was sure a photographer caught a picture, but Matty didn't seem to mind. I supposed that it would only add to his Casanova image tat he'd built up. The rest of the band waited outside the door. Kirsten and I greeted them with hugs, and when I released George I couldn't help but beam up at him.
"You were brilliant tonight," I told him sincerely, hoping he didn't account my compliment to my drunkenness. I definitely felt the alcohol, but I was hardly slurring my words and stumbling, instead it manifested itself in a false bravado and a lot of Dutch courage. This might have been the reason I pulled his head down closer to mine and pressed a kiss on his cheek, an action that made him grin. He used the opportunity while his head was down to mine to move his mouth next to my ear.
"So were you," he muttered lowly, sending a shiver down me. I wasn't sure whether he'd meant to or not. When he pulled away I swore he looked smug, like he'd noticed my reaction, but I couldn't be certain. All I knew was that it made my stomach flip. Of course, I didn't have enough time to dwell, because Matty was directing the group onward, toward a waiting taxi and then probably a flashy bar. I hovered near the back of the group, and George slowed himself down to walk alongside me. Matty lead the charge, obviously, and he was occupying himself with harassing Hann, who took his boisterous mate's actions fully in his stride in a way that was quite admirable.
"You looked good on stage tonight," I told him, partly because of the alcohol, but I also wanted to gauge his reaction. I tipped my head to the side as we walked down the stairs to the back of the building, where hopefully a taxi was waiting. He smiled modestly, putting his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket.
"Thanks."
"Your hair suits you like that, you know," I continued, unsatisfied with his reply.
"I'd hope so, it's been growing out for ages," he stated simply. He was just being friendly, if a little indifferent. I reluctantly shut up, retreating myself to the confines of my large black coat, feeling slightly wounded for making the effort. It settled things, though. Everything he was doing couldn't be on purpose, although the way he spoke in my ear before didn't seem to fit the mold of a casual gesture. I put it down to wishful thinking, speeding up my steps as an attempt to put some distance between us and catch up with Kirsten. A pointless attempt, because George easily matched my pace with his long legs. I glanced across at him to find him looking back at me. He seemed to be about to say something, but then Matty opened the backdoor of the building without hesitation, and suddenly we were outside, surrounded by fans.
There was security, of course, but they crowded round the boys instantly, pushing everyone out the way as they swarmed. The band seemed happy to oblige in photos and signatures. We had plenty of time, I supposed, and it only seemed fair. I fumbled a cigarette from the packet in my pocket and lit it, standing back next to Kirsten and feeling somewhat relieved that we weren't that level of famous yet. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a blue haired girl with grungy eyeliner duck past a security guard and make a beeline towards me, a familiar LP clutched in her pale hands.
"Hey! Hey!" she shouted over the other clamouring fans, getting both Kirsten's attention and my own. She rushed directly over to me, wild excitement in her eyes. "Hi, I just wanted to let you know that I love you so much and you're so, so fucking cool and you made me want to play bass," she gushed. I threw a surprised look at Kirsten, temporarily speechless, but snapped out of it quickly and grinned widely.
"Fuck, man. That's so cool to hear, you know?" I beamed at her, wishing I had something more insightful to say. She nodded, seeming a little awestruck, and thrust the record at me.
"Could you both sign this for me please?" she asked, and Kirsten laughed at the oddness of the situation.
"Sure we can, I'm glad you liked the show," she agreed, taking the vinyl and pen from the girl. "What's your name?""
"Emma," said the girl. While Kirsten struggled to scribble down a message onto the cardboard sleeve, Emma projected her thought track onto me. "My friends were really excited to meet Matty, but I just wanted to talk to you, you know. I love Danny and Leon but I'm so glad it was you who came outside. Can we get a picture together? I love your music so, so much. I want a bass like yours. It's a mustang bass isn't it? It looks so pretty in the photos. You played a red one tonight, I haven't seen that in the photos before. Is it new?" she enthused, and I tried my best to answer her questions. I couldn't help the smile that stretched across my face at the way her face lit up when I passed her the signed record back, having added a quick little doodle onto it. She burst forward, wrapping both Kirsten and me into a hug and I found myself noticing George looking over at us, his head rising above those of the teenagers surrounding him. He looked away again quickly. I got the security guard to take a photo of us. Me and Kirsten stood either side of her pulling foppish smiles. I didn't get to see how it came out because suddenly we were moving on again, Matty grabbing my wrist and pulling through the fans towards the backseat of one of the two taxis. It got a bit mental then, because as he disappeared inside the vehicle a few girls grabbed me in attempt to somehow pull him out again. Matty's hand slipped away from me and then I just found myself being pulled backwards, loosing my balance and falling down hard onto the pavement, being dragged backwards along the gravel.
"Oi!" Came a shout from above me, a strong arm pulling me up. "Fucking watch it then girls," George scolded the fans, and they clamoured him and me with apologies. He bundled me into the back seat with Matty and hopped in himself, shutting the door behind him.
"What happened there then, babe?" Matty asked, looking concerned.
"They grabbed my coat, I lost my balance. Probably shouldn't have drank that much yet," I assured him. I absentmindedly rubbed the thigh that hit the pavement, sucking in through my teeth. To my horror and surprise I felt it wet, warm and sticky beneath my hand. George had bundled me out the way so quickly I hadn’t even had the chance to notice any damage. I pulled my hand up closer to the light to try to confirm what I suspected. The taxi driver had already started down the road, so as we passed a streetlight it illuminated the blood. George noticed first, and then things got a bit stressful.
"Fucking hell!" He had a panicked look in his eye. "(Y/n), you're bleeding!" he pointed out needlessly. That was all that it took for Matty to notice, and both of them quickly overreacted, leaving me little time to explain that I'd just grazed myself on the pavement. As they shouted at each other all sorts of stupid things about hospital and stopping the bleeding, the taxi driver caught on that his seats might be getting soiled, which admittedly, they were.
"Who's bleeding?" he demanded. "If there is blood on my seats then you're paying for them to be cleaned."
"Shut up, mate," Matty snapped, grabbing my arms to check where I might be hurt.
"It's fine!" George added. "We can pay, we can pay!" He got out his phone torch, shining it onto me.
"Turn the torch off!" The taxi driver shouted from the front, and then Matty started biting his head off. Although I'd been trying to interject, that wasn't getting me anywhere, so I ended up pulling my hands away from Matty and grabbing George's phone to quickly turn the torch off before the taxi driver kicked us out.
"Matty! George!" I cried out, shutting them both up. "I'm fine! It's just a fucking bad graze." I rested a hand on Matty's leg, and he stopped grumbling. "I'll pay you to get it cleaned, sir," I told the taxi driver. This settled everyone down slightly. Now in a more calm environment, I rolled myself slightly over to George to show them the damage. He put a hand on my arm, steadying me as Matty assessed the damage, him being the closest to my injured leg. From the sound he made when the next streetlight lit up the car's interior, it wasn't pretty, even in low light, but obviously not bad enough to induce another panic.
"Fucking hell, that's pretty nasty. It's got like, gravel and stuff in it," Matty updated us, and I saw George shoot him a look. "I'm only being honest mate," he protested. "It's not a nice sight."
"It's fine," I understated. "Alcohol wipe and a plaster will have it sorted." I moved myself over to sit again, wincing slightly. I was somewhat aware that some blood might have got on Matty, but he didn't seem to mind.
"You're gonna need a fucking big plaster, babe," Matty replied. "You are fine though?" I nodded, and Matty offered me a 'kiss it better' kiss onto my cheek, seeing as it would be quite an awkward angle to do on my leg. At some point my hand had become intertwined with George's. He did't let go, seeming a little shaken. It amazed me how he could calmly play a gig like the one he'd just done and then get all freaked out by a little blood.
We arrived at the bar and George finally slipped his hand from mine as he got out of the backseat. By the time Matty had helped me out,, George had already paid the cab driver everything he wanted for the mess, to my frustration. In the light, my graze was quite dramatic looking. I'd been dragged back hard and fast onto the curb, enough to take the skin off of my upper leg, just below my arse cheek. The blood had got all over the skirt of my white dress, making it look like I was in a Halloween costume. It had stopped bleeding, though. As soon as I was out, Matty rushed over to the other three, who had got in the other cab. He began retelling a very dramatic version of events and I shook my head, lighting another cigarette. I felt the presence of George next to me.
"Drama queen," he laughed at his friend's antics. I grinned.
"It was you who mentioned hospital," I teased, taking a drag of my cig.
"Yeah, well I looked down at you and you had managed to get blood everywhere," he pointed out. "I'm allowed to freak out a little. It looked like you'd been stabbed."
"Sure," I smiled, then sighed as I pulled at my skirt. "I'm covered in it now."
"You manage to make it look hot," he complimented, and I had absolutely no idea how he meant me to take that.
"Thanks," I said, bashfully. George put his arm across my shoulder, leading me towards the bar. I tossed my cigarette aside.
"Come on, we can get you cleaned up a bit. Matty's gonna be ages showing off," he told me, and I walked along with him. We got hold of a first aid kit from a bartender and George lead me to a reserved room upstairs, almost looking sheepish when I ribbed him for how flashy he'd become. I ended up lying on my front on a bench seat, with my skirt up around my waist and George knelt on the floor, dabbing away blood and gravel with an alcohol wipe. It was a pretty compromising position, and I was glad the stinging pain of the graze was distracting enough that I wasn't thinking about the fact my arse and underwear were in plain sight. George was gentle and very apologetic every time I hissed out in discomfort. Ross came through the door first, eyes widening when he saw us.
"Don't even start," I warned him.
"I wasn't going to say anything," he lied, taking an adjacent seat. Matty barreled through the door next, and I didn't even get a second to speak before he'd made his comment.
"Few drinks in and you've already got your arse out, babe," he laughed. "Then again, George can be very convincing." He wiggled his eyebrows and it was George's turn to glare at him, but he couldn't hide the smirk on his face. That was just Matty though, no matter what he said he seemed to get away with.
Luckily, my leg was all bandaged up by the time Kirsten and Hann walked in, so I didn't have to justify anything to them. Kirsten brought me and her a bottle of wine and glasses from the bar downstairs, seeing as we had been drinking wine already. Hann, Ross and George went through some shots, with Matty sticking to his favourite red.
The conversation ran on, covering every subject from the gig we'd just played to existentialism to cows to homicide. Matty stood, talking and wandering round the tables with a glass in his hand, like a university professor hosting an evening soiree.
As Kirsten refilled my glass, I was starting to feel pretty giggly, and Matty pulled me up from my chair to spin me round to whatever club classic played through the speakers downstairs. He was definitely very drunk, I could tell from the cocky look in his eye. He stopped dancing, looking at me mischievously, having pulled me to stand with him so I was now involved in his performance for the group.
"Hey, babe, I forgot!" Matty announced. "I didn't give you a proper 'get better' kiss!" I wasn't sure what he meant, so I looked nervously at George, but he avoided my gaze. Matty, meanwhile, got down on his knees and pressed several kisses to the bandage on my right thigh as I watched in surprise, and then followed it up with several more on my left thigh, at the hem of my skirt, and a cheeky one slightly higher. Kirsten wolf whistled his actions, and Ross shook his head, laughing in disbelief. Matty stood up again and George took another shot from the tray and necked it back.
"Matty, you're a fucking riot," Kirsten announced, raising her glass to him. He reached for his own glass, his spare arm around my waist. I shook my head at him.
"You're such an exhibitionist," I tutted, and he pressed a big wet smooch to my cheek, making me lean away and wipe at my face.
"Absolutely," he agreed.
"Put her down, Matty," came a chuckling voice from the doorway, and I turned to see Danny, now dressed in cuffed jeans and a soft green cardigan. I quickly pulled myself out of Matty's grasp and embraced my best friend, giving him a kiss on each cheek in greeting. He moved round to give Kirsten a bent down hug, and then pulled himself back up to his full height. The room's attention focused on him and while everyone was diverted, I scooped up my coat and snuck off for a smoke.
Outside, the breeze nipped at my legs, and a few minutes later the door opened and George stepped out. He smiled at me wanly and pulled a joint out of his pocket, lighting it and coming to lean against the wall next to me.
"Matty's definitely drunk," he chuckled, and I shifted my weight onto my other leg. "He looked like he was ready to put his head up your skirt." I almost turned crimson.
"It's just Matty, he didn't mean anything by it," I deflected. I suddenly felt very weird about mine and Matty's arrangement now George seemed to think something was going on. He shrugged, exhaling the smoke out in front of him.
"Total slag," he said fondly, referring to his best mate. There was something I couldn't quite pin behind his words. "He'd fuck anyone," he added bluntly, and I bristled at his harsh statement, unsure as to where the sudden hostility had come from.
He seemed to realise what he'd said a second after he said it. "Oh, fuck, god. I didn't mean it like that," he backtracked, losing the strange tone in his voice. He ran his hand over his brow in shame. "I don't know why I said that. I really didn't mean that. Fucking hell, no. You're very fuckable, don't worry." Despite my offence, my stomach twisted pleasantly again.
"Good to know," I responded dryly. He groaned, taking another drag of the joint.
“I’ve really put my foot in it haven’t I?” he asked, and I shrugged frostily. “Beautiful. I meant beautiful, not fuckable.” I faltered slightly, glad he couldn’t see my glowing cheeks in the dim light. He moved himself in front of me, arm resting next to my head as he looked me in the eyes sincerely. The scent of him filled my nostrils, and the desire feeling overtook the annoyed one. “We’re alright aren’t we?” he implored, and my stoicism lasted for half a second before a smile snuck onto my face.
“Yeah,” I admitted. “We’re all right, G.” He smiled back at me, and toked the spliff, not moving from his position, boxing me in with his body. He exhaled downwards, then looked back up at me, before holding the spliff to my lips. I toked on it, my lips brushing his fingers as he held it by the roach. His eyes settled on my mouth as I took a long drag, before he pulled it away and back to his own lips. My heart thudded in my chest as he scanned my face. The atmosphere seemed to have changed, and I studied his dark eyes for intention, trying to read him properly.
The door swung open and Kirsten and Hann walked out, laughing about something or another. George moved his body around, dropping his hand back to his side. They approached us, wobbly and full of jokes.
“What are you two up to?” Kirsten asked, raising a brow. George held up the joint and pointed at it theatrically. “Go on then,” she invited herself, and George reluctantly relinquished his weed to the scavengers. I caught his eye, and tried to read whether his gaze was still as lustful as it had seemed just a minute ago. I couldn’t tell, but he was definitely still watching me. I took a slow drag of my cigarette, ghosting the smoke from it. A performance for his benefit? Perhaps.
After that, we went downstairs. I danced with Matty for a bit, then Ross, then Ross and Hann, then just Hann when Matty and Ross went for a smoke. Danny stole me from Hann and we jumped about together for ages, having an absolute laugh. Hann and George did a hilarious attempt at a tango, a dance that wasn’t really made for drum and bass. As more drinks went down, confidence went up, and I grabbed hold of George’s hands as Glue by Bicep started playing.
“Lift me up,” I told him, looping and arm around his neck and pulling him down so I could speak into his ear. He chuckled at my request, and knelt down, tapping his shoulders, a step up from what I had in mind. He stood up slowly and I wobbled slightly, causing me to clench my thighs either side of his head. I gained my balance, and Ross laughed at the way my frilly skirt had fanned out around George’s face. He got his phone out and took a picture with the flash, and I knew it would either be really nice, or absolutely horrible. I wasn’t sure how safe I felt this high up, but George’s hands held my shins securely, and the alcohol helped me to relax a bit. After a few minutes, the wobbles got a bit too wobbly, and I tapped him to let me back down onto my feet. Once I was on more stable ground, I let myself plant a bold kiss onto his neck in thanks. I would have gone for his face, but he was very tall and it wasn’t in my reach. I felt him tense as my lips brushed him, and the same smell of weed and cologne intoxicated me again. He looked at me confused, like he couldn’t tell whether the gesture was innocent or not. He seemed slightly more riled now.
“Hey, George, mate,” came Matty’s voice, and he came into view, pulling George round by his shoulder. He seemed slightly irritated. “I just ran into some fans back there, we should probably go upstairs again.” George nodded, then looked to me.
“I need to stay here and make sure Kirsten is alright,” I told him, and he relayed my plan to Matty. The music was so loud that every conversation was akin to Chinese whispers. Matty nodded an understanding and lead George away.
I found Kirsten at the front of the crowd, happily dancing on her own and looking a vision in the flashing club lights. She had her head tipped back dreamily, her lithe body moving perfectly in time with the music. I watched her for a moment, but was shook from my nice thoughts as I noticed my eyes weren't the only ones observing her graceful movements. My stomach twisted as I noticed the men nearby letting their own gazes rake over her, and that motivated me to interrupt her blissful moment. I pushed my way over to her, taking a hold of her hand.
"Hey, (Y/n)! Have a dance with me," she giggled, her words slurring slightly.
"Why don't we go outside for a bit?" I offered, trying to pull her away from the group of men who were stood gawking greedily at us both in a way that made my skin crawl. She pouted, shaking her head.
"I want to stay here," she complained. Her response prompted me to take a different approach.
"I need to talk to you about Matty," I lied, knowing that even drunk as she was, she wouldn't be able to resist a chance to get in on the gossip. To my relief she gave in quickly, allowing me to lead her to the smoking area outside again.
When the music was quieter and I could see her in more regular lighting I realised quickly what state she was in. Her pupils were blown out and her jaw kept clenching as she smoked one of the cigarettes I pulled out of my own pack for her. I had no idea when she had taken an E, but it seemed to be in full swing now. She had a stupid grin plastered on her face, rambling away.
"I love you, you know. You're the only girl mate I've ever had who like, has never been a bitch to me. We're surrounded by blokes all the time, it's nice to have another woman there, do you get me?" she asked, not waiting for a response before she began talking again. "Not that I mind the boys. Matty is funny, and Adam. He's so lovely, isn't he? I love him so much, he's just such a nice guy. Obviously I love Danny and Leon too, but they're not the same as other men because they are like, our boys. Matty was all over you tonight. I reckon you could have him in a heartbeat. I'm not surprised, you're so pretty. Sometimes I wish I looked like you," she admitted, her cigarette forgotten in her hand. I took a drag on my own, processing the revelation that Kirsten of all people wanted to look like me. I didn't think I was unattractive, of course, but I couldn't quite understand why she'd want my face instead of her own. I noticed she'd gone quiet, looking a little pale and glassy eyed.
"Kirsten, are you alri-" I began to ask, but was cut off when she leaned forward and vomited onto the wooden deck. Obviously I sprung into action, quickly reaching to pull her messy blonde curls back from her face and rub her back as she churned up all the alcohol from the night. "Oh darling," I soothed, trying not to focus on the acrid puke smell that I'd dealt with enough already today.
When she finished coughing up the last disgusting splatters of the night's indulgences she slumped into me, letting me take half of her weight. I got my phone out and awkwardly texted George with my spare hand, loosely explaining the situation and asking if he could bring our coats out to us so I could get Kirsten back to the hotel. He replied almost immediately.
Of course x
True to his word, he was down less than five minutes later, quickly moving to support Kirsten's weight so I could get my coat on and help her into hers before she froze. I shrugged both of our bags onto one shoulder and opened my other arm out to take her back off him. He laughed, shaking his head.
"I'll carry her back with you, don't worry," he said, shifting her round so he could support her more easily. Much like she had to me before, she clung to George like a wobbly koala, her jaw still swinging from the drugs.
"Oh George, I don't want to be a pain," I protested.
"I'm not leaving you to handle her on your own. If nothing else, I'd be a pretty shitty bloke if I left two drunk girls to stumble back to the hotel together alone," he insisted, and I knew I wouldn't be able to convince him otherwise. I sent another quick text to Danny, telling him we were heading back to the hotel, then George and I set out getting Kirsten back to her bed in one piece.
The taxi driver wasn't as miserable this time, and he engaged in the usual small talk, telling us about his wife and kids. I was sat in the middle seat, Kirsten's head on my shoulder. She'd already fallen asleep, which I hoped was a sign that she would be alright. I spoke to the driver about his daughter's piano lessons, telling him that, funnily enough, he was driving a car full of musicians. As we conversed, I felt George's fingers trace over mine, his skin warm against my cold hand.
"Really? What instruments do you all play?" the cabbie asked. George cupped my palm in his, his fingers knotting with mine.
"You have two drummer's and a bassist," I replied proudly, ignoring the unusual soaring feeling in my chest. I felt like a fucking teenager.
"Bass, eh? I used to play bass when I had a band, many years ago mind."
"Oh yeah? What was it called?"
"The Luton Badgers," he chuckled, and I almost guffawed in disbelief, looking at George for confirmation that I heard the driver correctly. He was already looking at me, and he shared a smile.
"Are you from Luton?" I questioned, trying to understand why on earth they'd picked that name. He shook his head.
"Not one of us was."
---
After George and I had got Kirsten in to bed, making sure she was laying on her side, he offered to walk me back to my room.
"Quite the gentleman tonight, G," I teased him. "What would I do without you?"
"Die, probably," he retorted, and I faked a frown, jabbing him in the side with my fingers, which made him jump and me burst out laughing. Before I had time to escape, he'd scooped me up, lifting me off the ground and carrying me over his shoulder and walking me towards my room, making me laugh even harder as I tried to squirm out of his grasp.
"Fucking put me down George, you stupid git," I cursed him.
"Nope," he replied stubbornly, holding onto me, and even though I couldn't see his face, I could hear his silly grin in his voice. I resigned to letting myself be carried the rest of the distance to the end of the hall, where he plonked me down unceremoniously. "There we go, delivered safely to your door," he announced. I fished my key card out of my bag.
"Thank you, Georgie. For everything today," I told him sincerely.
"Not a problem."
He leaned down to hug me, and I buried my face in his neck, taking one last breath of George, and then pulled away reluctantly, immediately missing the feel of his arms around my waist. I unlocked my door, opening it and then hesitated, turning to him again.
"Night, George."
"Goodnight."
---
I smoked a spliff out on my room's balcony (posh) and then slept for about an hour before waking up again, affected by some kind of ridiculous insomnia. Unable to get back to sleep I occupied myself looking through all the hotel cupboards and drawers, pulling out every hairdryer, pen or complimentary soap I could find, and then put them all back. I boiled the shitty plastic kettle and had a herbal tea, then finished the final few chapters of the book I had been reading; The Death of Bunny Munro. I slept for half an hour, then had another spliff and checked the time. 3:34am. The spliff helped me sleep for another hour, and then I was woken up by a knock at the door.
I pulled myself out from under the duvet, reluctant to leave its warmth but also aware that I wasn't getting back to sleep anyway. I padded across the room, just dressed in a large t-shirt and my underwear. Whoever was on the other side of the door knocked again. I opened it on the chain, just in case.
Matty grinned back at me through the small gap. I unlatched the door and he strode in, pulling his mucky trainers off and landing down on the bed with outstretched arms and an 'oomph'. I was too tired to respond immediately.
"Oh, babe, thank god this was your room, I'm pretty pissed. I was worried some angry stranger might answer it," he confessed dramatically, sitting up on his elbows and looking at me, still stood in the middle of the carpet, tired and half dressed.
"You made it back alright, I take it?" I deadpanned, walking over and taking a seat next to him on the mattress. He shrugged nonchalantly.
"I didn't wake you, did I?"
"You did, actually."
"Oh, sorry," he apologised.
"It's okay, I wasn't getting much sleep anyway," I explained. Matty sat up fully, pulling his hoodie over his head. He was still wearing the shirt and tie from the show, although the tie was now hanging loosely around his neck. He shuffled slightly closer, looping an arm around my waist from behind and pressing a few kisses to my jaw, making me sigh and relax into him. I could smell the wine and cigarettes on him, and as he moved to kiss me fully on my mouth, his tongue slipping between my lips, I could taste it. He pulled away for a second.
"Do you want to...?" he asked, looking at me hungrily. I hesitated.
"How drunk are you?" I questioned, making him chuckle.
"Very. But I'm conscious enough. Stop worrying that you might sexually assault me," he laughed, and I shrugged.
"Well I don't know, I've sobered up a bit now," I explained, but he wasn't listening, instead he stood up and tried to hurriedly undo his shirt buttons, struggling. I snorted at his attempt, moving myself up on my knees and pulling him closer by his tie. "Christ, Matty," I teased, undoing his tie, taking my time. "We've got ages, just slow down." I said the words lowly, knowing it would only make him more eager to rush. I started on his shirt buttons, working from the top down and letting my fingers brush his chest. He glared at me impatiently, and when the final button was undone, he took it off. He ran his hand along my jaw, tilting my head up and then crashing his lips onto mine. I let him, expelling everyone and everything else from my head the way I always did when Matty and I did this.
He moved me up the bed, hands gripping my hips as his tongue melded against mine and he pressed himself against me, already riling me up. My arms looped around his neck, holding him close to me and he pushed his hips against mine, already hard.
"Fuck, babe," he groaned, and I looked at him coquettishly, moving to plant my own wet kisses against his neck. I nipped his collarbone, knowing exactly how to do it without leaving a mark. Neither of us felt the need to possess the other. He pulled us both upright, grabbing at my t-shirt and pulling it over my head. He pressed kisses down my sternum, his hands finding my breasts and massaging them as he lay me back down and trailed his mouth over my stomach. His lips brushed the edge of my underwear and I let out a frustrated whimper, willing him to hurry up. He grinned, looking back up at me, moving back to kiss me as his fingers dipped just under the band of my knickers. "You were the one who suggested we slow down, he teased, eyes crossing my face to take in my reaction.
"Not this fucking slow," I scowled, and then gasped when he pushed two fingers inside me without warning. He smirked, curling his fingers and stirring a pleasant feeling in the base of my stomach. I let out a moan, pulling him back down to give me another wanton kiss. He pulled his fingers out from me and pulled at the edges of my underwear, prompting me to lift my hips so he could slide them down my thighs, looking smug when I was naked in front of him. He brought his head between my legs, nipping at my inner thighs with a deep hum. My back arched when his tongue finally made contact with my clit, and I sat myself more upright, running my hands along his back as my toes curled in pleasure.
"Ohh, fuck, Matty," I moaned out, my fingers knotting into his hair. He pulled his head away for a second, giving me a quick kiss with my taste on him. His hand reached between my thighs and rubbed circles, keeping me trapped with his other hand pressing on my thigh, keeping my legs apart. My own rested on his biceps, feeling his muscles flex as his fingers moved.
"If you keep making noises like that for me babe, then I'll keep eating you out," he growled, his voice going right through me. It was a choice he was offering; comply or argue back, continue the game or submit. I was sure he could see it on my face. I was annoyed he'd backed me into this corner so quickly. He pushed his fingers inside me again and I let out a desperate whine by accident, making him grin. "Good girl," he praised, rewarding me with a kiss before he went down on me again.
My frustration waned when Matty made me cum. I shuddered hard, groaning and clenching my thighs around his head as he coaxed me through my orgasm. I pulled him up to kiss him hard, my hand resting on the back of his neck as his own caressed along my waist and hips. Feeling warm and happy, I made him lie down on his back, straddling his legs and kissing along his jaw. I ran my hands across his chest. He looked like the perfect effigy of Adonis laid out across the bed, desire in his eyes.
I had the upper hand now. He was desperate for some kind of relief, his erection straining against his trousers. He groaned as I traced the edge of his boxers with my fingertips. I allowed myself a smile, exhaling the implication of a chuckle against his neck. I ghosted my lips over his chest, kissing each tattoo sweetly, really taking my time to cover every inch of the 'we are kings' tattoo on his lower stomach as my hands undid his trousers and pulled them down his thighs.
"Fuck," he groaned again. "Babe, hurry up," he demanded, and I smirked to myself, ignoring him. My fingers traced the edge of his Calvin Klein boxers, and I thought about how George wore the same ones, I'd seen them peeking above his jeans occasionally. I refocused my thoughts quickly, thrown off by my own wandering mind. I was here with Matty, not George.
I palmed Matty's hardened cock through his underwear, kissing down from his bellybutton. He swore again, gathering my hair in one of his hands. When he began to push his hips upwards against my hand I paused, pulling the waistband of his underwear down and freeing his erection. As I took him into my mouth he let out a loud moan which made my cheeks flush. His head tipped back and he shut his eyes for a moment as I sucked him off. He looked down at me with dark eyes, fingers knotting more firmly into my hair as he watched me greedily, his lips parted. I suppressed a gag as I pushed my head down, taking him as deep as I could, and he moaned again. I repeated my actions and he yanked on my hair, pulling me off of him.
"I'm sorry babe, but I'm too drunk to last two rounds and I want to fuck you so badly," he explained lowly, the last words causing an exciting twist in my stomach.
"Go ahead," I prompted him with a coy smile. In seconds I was on my back, Matty positioned between my legs. He didn’t pause before pushing inside of me, and I let out a moan at the feeling of him, gripping his back.
"Fuck, you're so hot," he groaned, his thumb brushing over my mouth as he fucked into me before he edged it between my parted lips, and I swirled my tongue over it. He sighed, his eyes flicking over my face again lustfully, devouring me with his eyes as his hips rolled into mine. His mouth followed where his hand left, pushing me deeper into the mattress and slipping me tongue. He pulled away and gripped my waist roughly, going deeper.
"Matty," I whined, as his thumb moved to rub my clit, making me writhe, my legs wrapping around him and pulling him even closer to me. My hips spasmed, back arching and allowing Matty to hit the right spot and I came undone, clutching at him desperately as he buried his head in my neck and kept fucking me through it until he came with a moan and a shudder, his nails digging into my hipbone.
"Shit babe," he sighed out languidly, his hot breath on my collarbone. He moved to kiss me again, gently this time, savouring it. He brushed my hair off of my face. "I needed to do that since I saw you in the dressing room earlier," he admitted, panting, and I grinned.
"This arrangement has it's pros," I conceded. Matty raised an eyebrow and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
"I think more friends should try fucking each others brains out," he smirked, moving off of me and onto his back, both of us naked and spent and sprawled across the top of the duvet. I sat up, getting my t-shirt off the floor and back on and then grabbing my box of cigarettes off the side. I grabbed clean underwear from my suitcase and opened the doors to the balcony, stepping out and lighting my smoke. My knees tensed together due to the cold. It was March in Glasgow, so I was far from appropriately dressed.
As I looked out across the streets I wondered what George might be doing. Was he asleep? Drunkenly panned out across the bed in his boxers? Or was he awake like me, on the balcony of his own room indulging in another spliff while I toked on a post sex cigarette? I stubbed it out on the railing, flicking the butt down to the street below and retiring back to bed, where Matty had already wormed his way beneath the duvet. I was shattered and cold, so when he shuffled his body close to mine I appreciated being able to steal his warmth.
After a long day, I finally shut my eyes and allowed myself a rest.
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matsbarzal · 3 years
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#6 angst “just breathe, it's okay. it'll be okay." with mat barzal? 🥺
(also if you could make it gender neutral / non-binary reader for your favorite hopeless trans, I would love you forever 💙💙💙 but absolutely no worries if not!!)
angst #6. "just breathe, it's okay. it'll be okay."
word count: 1.3k pairing: mat barzal x gn!reader warnings: mentions of panic attack, anxiety
It wasn’t that you didn’t like going to Islanders’ events with Mat, it wasn’t that at all. Mat always stood by your side, eager to have you meet everyone, eager to introduce his partner to all his friends and fans. He always matched your outfits, always going out of his way to make sure the two of you looked great standing side-by-side.
It was the fact that all these events were so crowded, so overbearing, like you couldn’t walk away for five minutes without being hounded by the next person eager to talk about Mat, or about the Islanders’ success. You loved everyone you met, truly, but you could only last so long before the crowds, the noise, before everything finally just… got to you.
Mat knew how you felt about the events, knew that sometimes you just had to disappear into a bathroom, or out into the hall to catch a breather.
“Y/N’s okay, they just need a bit of a breather. Packed rooms like this and all these people aren’t really their forte.”
He never questioned your decision to take a walk, or a breather, constantly shooting you looks from wherever he was standing with Tito or Anders, eyeing you to make sure you were alright. Mat knew that crowds weren’t your thing, but he always tried to push you a bit, push you to get out of your comfort zone, push you to do things you wouldn’t have done without him.
It was something you appreciated immensely, especially because Mat always knew when enough was enough and that the push and the encouragement were going too far. Until tonight.
Casino Night was always one of the biggest events of the year for Islanders’ loyalist fans. And it was one of Mat’s favourite events out of all the one’s the team hosted throughout the season. He always said something about helping kids and knowing the money was going to a good cause made it worth dealing with loads of people for one night, something you had to force yourself to agree with.
That’s how you found yourself here, dressed to the nines and pressed into Mat’s side as he introduced you to people you didn’t already know. The room was slowly becoming more and more crowded as you both weaved your way in and out of groups of people, stopping occasionally whenever Mat recognized someone from previous events.
You could feel the anxiety starting to bubble up inside of you, your stomach churning every time a polite smile crossed across your lips to greet another person. Your shoulders had been tensed up since the two of you arrived at the event, only to strain more and more as the night slowly dragged on.
“You okay, love? Your hands are shaking, wanna go for a walk?”
Shaking your head at his worsts, you gently squeezed his hand in response, a tight smile lining your lips. “I’m okay, just getting a little overwhelmed. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”
Pressing your lips to the edge of his cheek, Mat smiled brightly and squeezed your hand a little tighter, pulling the side of your body flush against the side of his. It didn’t take long for him to have to depart from you, his services needed at the Blackjack table to relieve Anthony of his duties for the next hour, promising you that he’d be back the moment he could get away.
Anthony smiled in greeting as he approached you, standing off to the side, observing the event.
“Big turnout tonight, eh?”
“God, you’re so Canadian. Eh?”
Laughing, all Anthony did was shrug as he looked around at his teammates and fans, the chatter evident in the room, the music from the stereos not blocking out the sounds of people enjoying their night.
“You having fun? Barzy said you weren’t the biggest fan of big crowds and huge events like this, but that you promised you’d come an’ shit. Just lemme’ know if you want to escape for a little bit at all, I know the perfect hiding place in this place. Mat and I dipped like… six times last year to go hide and shotgun a beer in peace,” a sparkle was evident in his eyes, a grin taking over his cheeks as he reminisced on the year prior.
Shrugging your shoulders with a small nod to your head, you surveyed the people around you. “It’s nice, I’m happy it’s all for a good cause which makes it worth it. Maybe I’ll go toss some money into Matt’s basket, see if I can steal Syd’s husband and convince him to bring their baby with him for the day.”
“They really know how to make some beautiful kids, huh?”
Nodding your head with a laugh, Anthony just grinned as he bid you a quick goodbye, maneuvering himself around you and towards the agent that was eagerly trying to get his attention.
Peering around you, you realized you didn’t recognize any of the surrounding people. Mat’s teammates were all at their stations, the few that weren’t were catered up to the front, the bidding war for a day with an Islander about to begin.
You could feel the skin on your arm start to itch, the air flowing through your lips becoming shallow as you tried to make out your surroundings. The feeling of your legs tensing up just another indication that you had to get yourself out of the room, and quickly. Which is how you found your legs moving before your brain could even comprehend what you were doing, pushing yourself out of the exit of the hall and towards the closest bench you could find.
Trying to calm your breathing through your nose and your mouth were impossible, the pace becoming quicker and quicker as you gripped the edge of the bench, your knuckles going white the harder your hands clenched. Every time you let out a breath of air, you could feel as it scratched against the dryness of your throat, your stomach churning as the nausea began to take over, the tears swimming in your eyes and making it impossible to make out anything, or anyone in front of you.
You jumped the moment you felt a hand on your arm. “Hey… hey. It’s okay, it’s alright. Just breathe, it’s okay. It’ll be okay, don’t worry.”
Pushing yourself closer into Mat, you felt his arm wrap around you gently, his hand gently caressing up and down your back as he whispered calming words into your ear. His fingertips were light as they feathered across your back, your brain trying to focus solely on that and the sound of his voice.
“It’s alright. It’s okay, I sound like a recorder, but it’s okay. We’ll go home, it’s alright. Everyone will understand, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone, especially when you still barely know anyone. I’m sorry.”
Shaking your head, you gripped onto Mat’s head tightly, aggressively shaking your head as he looked at you worriedly.
“It’s not your fault, I just… I hate crowds. So much. There were too many things going on at once, I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize how overwhelmed I was until it was too late, I’m sorry.”
The panic was still evident in the way your hands shook, the shallow breaths that continued to fall from your mouth as Mat held onto you gently, the way your throat was dry and sore, the heaviness in your eyes evoking a headache almost immediately.
“Why don’t we go to Denny’s? Or like… anywhere other than here? I’m bored anyways, how do some pancakes sound? Or some waffles? Maybe a parfait if you’re feeling a little frisky?”
A small laugh fell from your lips as you nodded your head at him, his kind eyes and his kind words convincing you that everything would be okay. His endearment and willingness to sit there and hold you as you calmed down, to sit there and whisper kind and soothing things in your ear the push you needed to get up, to follow him wherever he wanted to go next.
note: i hope this was perfect to your request, love!!! thank you for requesting, and i hope you enjoy <3
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myweirdadd · 2 years
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How I deal with sensory overload (ADD/ADHD) in a healthy way
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Lemme begin by explaining what sensory overload is at its most basic level. Sensory overload occurs when the body's senses are...overloaded- you guessed it! Things that set off a sensory overload are loud noises, bright lights, and sometimes things that might make someone anxious; for me it's big crowds. They cause over stimulation (stimulation is activity in the brain) in my brain and I have sensory overload. It's not pleasant. Let's see what my symptoms of sensory overload look like! They are as follows:
Anxiety
Sweating
Generally overwhelmed mind
Short temper
Irregular heartbeat
Frantic scattered thoughts
Emotional/mental shut down (spacing out, apathy)
Over sensitive nerves (hair, skin, face, arms, anywhere with nerve endings- I'm feeling)
DISCLAIMER: These are MY symptoms and they may not be the same as everyone else's symptoms to sensory overload, everybody experiences things differently.
Now! Let's get on to the fun part!
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Dealing with sensory overload (In a healthy manner):
Since I get pretty aggravated when I have a sensory overload, it's natural to be a bit violent with yourself (pulling hair, pulling skin, etc), however this is NOT healthy and VERY damaging to your body. They don't even really help, and they often just make things worse! So here is a list of things that I do when I have a sensory overload:
Breathing exercises (they're highly recommended for a reason)
Leaving the stressful environment
If you can't leave the stressful environment, put ear plugs/headphones on and listen to calm music (or don't listen to anything, it works for me both ways)
Sit in a dark, quiet room, with ambient sounds (white noise, ocean waves, rain on window, etc), YouTube has a lot of ambient noises to choose from, and there are also apps that are available!
This sounds silly so bear with me; my favorite thing to to when I'm overwhelmed is to put my head into the collar of my shirt, stretch my shirt over my knees (my knees are pulled to my chest), close my eyes, and rock back and forth. This does well when coupled with ear buds/headphones. Make sure you're wearing a big shirt before doing this! Otherwise it'll get stretched out.
An alternative to that last one is lying under some blankets! Weighted blankets are life savers, and great to sleep with! A lot of people with ADD/ADHD and Autism use weighted blankets. If you don't have the means to buy a weighted blanket, you can just pile as many blankets on top of each other as you can! Works like a charm.
If you're feeling like weighted blankets are *too much* that's okay! I curl up in bed with one thin blanket over my head, I cover my ears, close my eyes, and recuperate!
Last but not least; I reassure myself. I tell myself that it is okay to be angry, it's okay to feel emotions, and it's okay to take alone-time to recover. Super helpful, especially after a sensory overload.
That is all I have for today, thank you for reading, and I sincerely hope that these healthy coping mechanisms can help you guys!!
– Dino :)
DISCLAIMER: I am ADD, but I am not a licensed doctor, so these are not guaranteed to work for everyone!
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woniepop · 3 years
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encore
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➜ sunghoon had never fallen in love with anything the way he did with skating. the wind in his face, the crunch of the ice beneath his feet, it was wonderful. and yet, something about it made your blood boil. you once loved ice skating too, for the same reasons as he, but maybe all you needed was a simple goodbye to understand park sunghoon.
wc: 4.6k
genre: ice skating au, best friends to lovers (ish), angst, fluff, romance, slice of life
content warnings: illness, mentions of medication, mentions of blood, death, mentions of anxiety, mentions of fainting, hospitals, angst, death of a loved one
heavily based off Your Lie in April
tagging: @svnghoonie @unghoon @swanlakesujin​ @heeblr @sweetseung @ferxanda @katberri @usdolans @kisshoons @scintillasofbeomgyu @leemika @qngelhoonie​ 
a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time i’m writing something like this, so i hop eyou guys enjoy it because i’d be super down to write more in the future. 
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Friday, October 16, 2020
The busy sounds of couples, families, and friends fill the air as the cold wind hits your face. Holding hands with your mom, you glide through the ice, laughter filling the entire rink. The bleachers, the other skaters, the floor, it all disappears and the only thing that’s left is you and your mom. Your seven year old self had never felt so alive. 
And yet, here you were, seventeen, staring off into the ice rink as other kids and their mothers ice skated. Ever since you fell in love with the sport it had been the bane of your existence. Mom died, so you stopped. You swore to never go back again, it gave you anxiety. You tried, you really did, but something about being on the ice reminded you so much of the past you wanted to leave behind. It went downhill from then on. 
“Hey, what are you thinking about?” a familiar voice calls out to you. Sunghoon, who had been practicing for his upcoming competition, leans against the side of the rink, talking to you who was sitting on the bleachers. 
“Just my mom again,” you reply. 
“It’s been a while since she passed away, huh. Should we go get some ice cream to cheer you up then?” He says as he skates towards the exit, walking to you. You stand up, bag in hand, and wait for him to change out of his skates. Sunghoon, who had been your best friend since your five year old skating class, had been with you through everything. He always seemed to know just what to say to cheer you up. 
“Hey, y/n. Do you think you’d ever try to skate again?” Sunghoon asks, fully knowing the answer but hoping maybe this time it'll be different. 
“Haha, you really want me to get back into skating that badly?” 
“Well, it’s been a while since you’ve done it. You don’t have to compete with me again, you know. But why don’t you just try it again for fun?” 
You stop in your tracks and think about it. It wouldn’t hurt to try for fun. It was your life at one point. “Fine, tomorrow afternoon. But that’s it.” you say, watching his face light up. 
Saturday, October 17, 2020
“Don’t let go, Sunghoon. I SAID DON’T LET GO.” You shout, as he laughs. 
“Y/n, just relax. You know this. I’m letting go now.” 
“SUNGHOON!” you shout. Your legs bent and you stand in place, too scared to move. You watch as he takes your hand and guides you around the rink. The nostalgia comes rushing back. The wind in your face, the feeling of your feet gliding across the ice like nothing, it had been so long. Before you realize it, you had let go of Sunghoon and gone way ahead of him. Looking back, you find him smiling at you. You remember this feeling, and you loved it. 
You’d definitely got your love of skating from your mom. Being the daughter of a professional skater, it had been your dream to be like her. She was and always will be your role model. When you had quit skating you wondered if she’d be disappointed in you for quitting, but thoughts of her always flooded your mind and you could never focus on the task at hand. You knew your mom would never be disappointed in you, but you were disappointed in you. 
It had been half an hour of skating and an all too familiar voice calls out to you.
“Y/n!”
“Mom?” you say in response. You look back, no one. Not soon after, your breathing gets heavy, the world starts spinning and the nostalgia of the rink gets washed over by spots of black, your head was pounding. You keep looking. Where was she? Why was this happening? You wanted to hug her. Was she proud of you? Upset that you didn’t skate anymore? Why did she leave you? Before you know it, you could feel Sunghoon holding you on the floor before going unconscious.
Sunday, October 18, 2020
“Y/n, I’m so sorry.” Sunghoon says, clutching your hand while kneeling next to your bed. 
“Sunghoon, I’m fine. It’s not your fault.” 
“BUT IT IS! I asked you to skate with me and now you’re hurt.” 
“I’m not hurt. It’s okay.” you say as you rub the back of his hand with your thumb. You look at the clock. 7pm. It was the next day. “Don’t you have practice? Let’s go.” 
“What do you mean let’s go?!? You just woke up??” Sunghoon utters in a panic.
“Yeah, which means I’m energized. I need to make sure you don’t stay there for too long and hurt yourself too.” you say, standing up to shoo Sunghoon out so you can change. “Wait on the couch,” 
A few moments later you both were out the door and on the bus to the ice rink. 
“I’m not going to stay for long then. I don’t want you to be out for too long.” He decides. 
“That’s fine.” 
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The noise Sunghoon’s skates made as they hit the ice and the chilly air gave you comfort as you watched him run through his routine. Running his fingers through his hair, your eyes follow him wherever he went. He knew you were watching, which was why he was putting on his best performance. The both of you had never felt butterflies for each other like the way you did now. Before you knew it, the two of you were falling hard. 
“Y/n, let’s go now.” Sunghoon says as his chest rises up and down, panting from his last run. 
“Okay, you did good today.” You compliment him as you walk to the bus. His hand accidentally bumps into yours. You desperately wished that he had gone to hold yours, but he was just your best friend. Nothing more. The ride was filled with a comfortable silence. You stared out the window while Sunghoon stared at you. Feeling his gaze on you, you turn to look at him only for him to turn away and pretend like he was looking the other way. Having spent almost everyday for the past ten years with Sunghoon, you guys never needed to talk constantly, having each other there was just enough to have a great day. 
You get off together, but Sunghoon was acting suspiciously jittery. He walks you home, but you see him turn the opposite direction of your house once you’re inside. Weird. 
Alone, Sunghoon gets back on the bus. His home was close enough to walk from your house, though. “What was he doing?”, you thought.
Arriving at his destination, Sunghoon sighs as he puts a hand up to his backpack strap. 
“Name?” the receptionist asks. 
“Park Sunghoon.” 
“Sunghoon! I’m sorry to see you back. You’ve grown so well. The doctor is ready for you in room 306. Good luck!” 
In and out of hospitals ever since the seventh grade, twelve year old Sunghoon stands in the dark hospital hallway, watching his parents cry in the moonlit lobby. He didn’t have much time left, he thought. 
Trudging through the all too familiar hallways, Sunghoon makes a left turn and opens the fourth door to the right. He knew this place like the back of his hand. 
“Hey Sunghoon! Welcome back! Just take a seat over there and I’ll start preparing to run some tests and then we’ll talk about starting your physical therapy.” The doctor says in a way too cheerful voice. 
“That sound’s good. Thank you.” Sunghoon replies. Hearing the sound of the door clicking shut, Sunghoon sat deep in thought. He wanted to skate with you again, but he was worried about your health. Just one more time. That was what he wanted. The glimmer in your eyes, you huge yet adorable smile. He wanted to see it again. 
Next Saturday, October 24, 2020
The day started out hectic but you finally found your seat in the stands. You waited for them to announce Sunghoon. Alas, he came gliding out and the crowd was already cheering. Before he starts his eyes search for you, smile widening when his eyes finally meet with yours. Although he had other passions, like skating, his favorite one would always be you. The music starts and the audience quiets down. You had probably seen this routine over 100 times, but something about the setting, the mood, made it seem like a whole new dance. Every move he made drew you further in. He pushed the audience to the edge of their seats leaving them in awe. It was all for you. Everything about him at that moment was brilliant. Once he ends, the audience roars and Sunghoon, not surprisingly, ends up winning. Of course he won. He was your Sunghoon. 
You make a beeline towards the performers’ hall and jump onto Sunghoon’s back, accidentally hitting his face with the flowers you had purchased a few moments before. 
“Y/n, I told you to stop buying me these. They’re a waste of money.” Sunghoon giggles, happy to see you. You’d had always brushed them off as a pretty reward for a pretty performer, but there had always been a separate meaning behind the red tulips you give him. They would always end up in your home, in the glass vase next to the couch. A gift from your father to your mother, every Friday. Red tulips, the symbol of true love. 
“Alright, I need to go change, wait here.” he says, leaving you behind. 
An hour goes by and you were starting to get a bit worried. You knock on his changing room door. Nothing. Did he leave without you? You knock on the door again, and nothing. Opening the door, your eyes widen and you let out a gasp. Sunghoon had fainted due to exhaustion and the blood from his head injury had stained the floor. 
You call the ambulance and thankfully they arrive quickly. Refusing to leave Sunghoon’s side, you watch as the nurses wrap bandages around his head. This had been the first time you’d seen Sunghoon like this. Was it happening often? Did he not get enough sleep last night? 
“Sunghoon, I’m glad to see you’re awake. You passed out from exhaustion again and we’ve handled your head injury. You’re free to go anytime.” The doctor says. 
“Again?”  you ask. 
“Yeah, but only a long time ago. You don’t need to worry about it.” Sunghoon says. “My parents have been overreacting and making me get routine tests, though.” 
As a kid, you hated going to the hospital, and Sunghoon knew that. It was bland, it was boring, but most of all it’s the place you lost your mother. You hated the hospital. You’d come almost every month, week even, watching them run tests on your mom, prescribe her what seemed to be like hundreds of different medications, it was terrible. Losing your parent to cancer was not fun. No more skating, no more family days, no more cheering at competitions. Your family dinners turning to just you and your dad, and then just you. Referring to your parents as my “parent,”. Learning how to live life without the person you cherished most. It seemed like your life revolved around that retched place you called the hospital. 
The rain poured and thunder boomed through the quiet hospital. He had sent you home before it rained, not wanting you to get wet and sick from the cold. Sunghoon sat still and thought to himself in his bed. “I see, so I’ve passed out again,” he thinks.
Monday, October 26, 2020
The chair screeches across the floor as Sunghoon drags it to your desk. 
“Y/nnnnnnn” he whines, seeing you eat your gummy worms. 
“No.” 
“But I’m hungryyyy” he cries. You roll your eyes, placing one in his hand. You watch as he holds one side close to his mouth as if he was waiting for something. 
“Sunghoon, what are you doing?” you ask. 
“Bite the other side” he says, causing your face to go red. 
“No”
“yes”
“no” 
“why not?” he says with his best attempt at puppy eyes and a pout. 
“why?” you ask, hoping he hasn’t noticed your tomato red face yet
“cause I want to. we can lady and tramp it.” he says. “you know you want to.” 
“I’m not going to lady and tramp a gummy worm with you. eat it or i’m taking it back.” you argue.
“Fine, but I have a proposal.” he announces. “I want to enter the next competition with you. Just one. Give me one more duet before you quit for good.” 
“no,” you reply. “I’m never skating again.” 
“Why not? You love it” 
“Why do you want me to skate so badly?” you ask. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell you the real reason. He couldn’t tell you he was dying, that was a huge no. 
“I miss being able to skate with my best friend. I feel so lonely.” he says, puppy eyes resurfacing. 
“I’ll think about it then.” 
“Good. Meet me at the ice rink on Saturday at 10am” he exclaims before getting up to go back to his desk. 
“I haven’t even agreed.” 
“Oops I can’t hear you!” he says as you roll your eyes. 
Saturday, October 31, 2020
Little you steps off the ice as tears threatened to pour out of your eyes. Running out of the rink into the changing room, you latch on to your mother. 
“Mommy, I’m not gonna win,” you say. Her hand comes up to run her fingers through your hair. She coos at you until your breathing has relaxed. 
“Why don’t you think you’d win, honey? I loved watching you out there. You were so beautiful.” she says. 
“I fell on the ice! Winners don’t do that. I wanted to win just like you.” you manage to sniffle out. You feel your mother give you a kiss on the forehead before kneeling and holding both of your hands. 
“Ah, you see, my love, they do! Mommy fell all the time! She still falls! I promise you no winner has never fallen. Mommy only wins because she knows what it’s like to fall! Even if you don’t win, mommy is very proud of you, okay?” she says. 
You bolt up from your sleep. It was just a dream. Scrunching your face, holding back the tears that threatened to spill out, you force yourself to get ready for the day, not giving any time to be sad and reminisce. 
You enter the complex, Sunghoon standing at the entrance of the rink, impatiently waiting for you. He was so excited. This was going to work out for him. You both walk to the bleachers to satrt lacing your skates, Sunghoon practically bouncing off the walls. 
“Aw man, I forgot my hair tie” you complain. Sunghoon pauses lacing his boots and holds his arm out to you. 
“Here” Sunghoon says as you look at the extra hair tie on his wrist. 
“Why do you have these.” you ask. 
“You always forget.” he says, unsurprised.
“Awwww you were thinking of me?” you teased. 
“Of course, idiot. Did you forget? I’m never not thinking of you” Sunghoon argued, wallking away, leaving you dumbfounded and blushing like a tomato. 
Once again you step into the rink. You were stronger this time. Taking a deep breath you start to glide across the ice once again. It was very unsettling, though. Being on the ice, having fainted the last time you were here. Both you and Sunghoon were on edge, but you were determined to help him win this competition. 
The day was filled with talking with your instructor, cleaning up your spins and jumps, and getting back to where you were before. You were getting it and you showed no signs of panic. Sunghoon was so proud of you. YOU were proud of you.
Sunghoon was happy, and he was hopeful. On his walk home all his thoughts were filled with you. Loving you ever since the seventh grade, when he found out he had an illness. He had decided never to tell you, fearing his time would come and leave you alone, but it was too late now. He didn’t want to push you away, you were his ride or die. His heart ached, he didn’t want to say goodbye. He didn’t want you to have to live alone. 
Opening the door to his home, he walks through the hallway, leaning against the wall limping to his room. Every big event Sunghoon would write you a letter, and so tonight he poured his heart out onto this piece of paper, tears staining his face. 
Sunday, November 1, 2020
On Sunday, you show up to his house unexpectedly but not surprisingly. “Sunghoon, get dressed. We’re going to the market.” you say. Without question, he does as you ask and you both head to the market in no time.
Walking down the ice cream aisle, you grab all the flavors you enjoy, filling your whole basket with different ice creams, toppings, fruit, drinks, and even a cake. “You’re quite hungry, aren’t you?” Sunghoon teases, earning him a slap to the arm.
As soon as you get home, you send Sunghoon alone to his bedroom, telling him you need time to prepare everything. You had pulled all the stops, whipping out the cheap snoopy shaved ice maker, birthday party hats, streamers, balloons, and banners. It was no one’s birthday in particular, but the fake birthday party put you in a festive and refreshing mood. You had set up a giant ice cream sundae bar, and had even made lemonade.
Calling Sunghoon to come out of the bedroom, he was not surprised but very impressed. Wanting to make it even more fun, he suggests to make sundaes for one another, which you happily agree to. The day was so fun, and it was hardly possible, but Sunghoon had fallen in love with you even more. 
Sunghoon was so happy that you planned something like this. He was never one to do anything cute for you unless you begged, so this time he wanted to show you how grateful he was to you by giving you one FREE boop on the nose. Scooping some ice cream with his fingertip, he lightly taps your nose, leaving the melted strawberry ice cream to drip off your nose. You turn to look at him in disgust, eventually dipping your finger in the ice cream and starting a war. 
Monday, November 2, 2020
From: Sunghoon (sent at 7:30am) 
[ GOOD MORNIN PARTY PEOPLE!!! ] 
From: you
[ where are you ]
From: Sunghoon
[ Oh yeah I forgot to tell you I’m not coming today. ]
From: you
[ what, why? I don’t wanna eat lunch alone like a loser. ]
From: Sunghoon
[ oh yeah. i’m back at the hospital LMAOOOO ]
From: you
[ WHY ]
From: Sunghoon
[ idk i forgot. i just woke up here and they were like “hihi” and i said “hihi” back ]
From: you
[ you are unbelievable. i’m coming after school. ]
From: Sunghoon
[ NO DON’T ] 
From: you
[ why ]
From: Sunghoon 
[ i don’t wanna get yelled at again. only come if you bring me more gummy worms ]
From: you
[ fine. since you’re sick ] 
You acted like you didn’t care, but you were so worried. What could’ve happened? Why couldn’t he remember? Even when bed ridden, he still managed to get you to fall head over heels. 
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That afternoon, you arrive at the hospital, finding Sunghoon playing video games while lying in bed. You chuckled. Even with head bandages and an IV drip, he still managed to be his teenage boyish self. 
“Y/n! Today was so boring. Can we take a walk in the garden, I’m sick of being here.” he asks, to which you reluctantly agreed. 
During your stroll you talked about anything and everything, a common activity you both did. 
“How was school today? Did you miss me?” Sunghoon asks cheekily. 
“I did actually. I didn’t realize how much time I spend with you until today.” you respond. “But, it was okay. I got your gummy worms and some other snacks too. I know you hate hospital food.” 
“Well I missed you too, there was no one but the staff to bother.” He chuckles. “You know, I’m not always going to be around to help you.” 
“I know, but we have time.” 
Before you knew it, the sun was setting and Sunghoon sent you home so you didn’t have to walk alone in the dark. On his walk back to his room, Sunghoon worried. The thing was, you didn’t have time. The fact that you missed him in just a few hours? How would you feel about forever? He never wanted you to have bad days, let alone be the one to cause them. 
Walking through the hallways he trips and falls. Landing on his knees. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t. Why wouldn’t his legs move? He punched his leg. Nothing. Again. It was no use. He had lost feeling in his legs. Tears start pouring out of his eyes. Move, it’s just your leg. Get up. Move. Water droplets fall from his face as he bangs his fist on the floor. Why can’t he move. Eventually he gives up, dragging himself back to his room with his arms. They hurt. His heart hurt. Everything hurt. Was this it?
Tuesday, November 3, 2020
After last night’s events, Sunghoon felt out of it. He wouldn’t be able to go back to school for a while, the nurses claiming that if it happens again the situation can be way worse. He couldn’t skate anymore. He couldn’t see YOU skate anymore. This was it. His illness was getting to him. 
With a knock on the door, Sunghoon falls right out of his daze and watches as you come in with another bag of goodies. 
“I brought you some stuff from the convenience store.” You say, taking out a bottle of green tea and handing it to him. He reaches out to grab it but as soon as you let go the bottle slips out of his hands. 
Ah, so it’s spreading to my arms too, he thinks as he realizes he was too weak to grip the bottle. The doctors told his parents last night that surgery was an option, but it would only give him a little more time, but he wanted to take it. He wanted to be able to skate a little longer. He wanted to make it to the competition. 
“I’m in the mood to watch all the Studio Ghibli movies in one sitting.” Sunghoon says as he leans his head back. 
“Scoot over,” you reply, getting up to sit in his bed with him. “Good thing I brought my laptop.” 
“Are you sure? That’s gonna be like all night.” He asks. 
“Of course, I’m always in the mood for you,” you say as Sunghoon wraps an arm around you, prepared for the whole night of cuddling and movie watching. 
Half way through the marathon you feel Sunghoon nuzzle his face into your neck. His soft snoring tickled you. You bring your hand up to stroke his hair. Park Sunghoon, I am so in love with you, you think.  Your smile. Your eyes. Your lips. Your hair. Your voice. You teasing. The way you say my name. The way you stare at me. The way you talk. The way you smile at me. The way my day isn’t complete without you. I love you. 
Wednesday, November 4, 2020
The next day was supposed to be better. Sunghoon was going to see you and you were gonna get him more gummy worms. Sitting up with him on his bed, you were cuddling, and he seemed to be getting paler and paler by the minute. He seemed really tired, like he was sick to his stomach. 
You got up to go get him a drink from the vending machine, and as you came back nurses and doctors were rushing in and out of your best friend’s room. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of it’s chest and you run to his room. Sunghoon was clutching onto the sides of the bed, doctors scrambling to get the defibrillator going. His heart had stopped.
You’d later learn that he had gone into cardiac arrest, and you watched as the nurses wheeled his bed to the ICU. But the surgery didn’t work, and he didn’t survive. You felt numb. Stretching out a trembling arm, you took hold of Sunghoon’s hand. You shut your eyes and squeezed his palm. It was cold. Your  hand trembled harder with each passing second, as if the movement would cause Sunghoon to wake up. Your face buried into the crook of his neck. You nudged the bridge of your nose against the cool skin. Your lips brushed against his collarbone in desperate search of that familiar warmth. Both hands had clasped around Sunghoon’s, quavering without pause. Devastation weighed down on you. It was a surreal feeling, one that you could never in one million years describe. It squeezed you, threatening to crush you from the inside out. The pain seared itself into your soul, hindering him, rendering him speechless to a point where he no longer knew what words were. A sob wretched its way out from your throat. You tried desperately to hold it in. Tried so hard to keep yourself together, but you knew you were too weak to pull such a bluff. Once the second sob had left you, you felt yourself spiraling. There was no hiding it.
The doctor comes to hand you a letter. Weakly reaching out, you read it right away. You were desperate. You needed to hear something from Sunghoon, anything. 
Dear Y/n,
HI BESTIE, I know I write you one of these every big event, but I’m afraid this might be my last. I’m sorry if you’re getting the before the competition. I desperately wanted to skate with you, but I guess if you’re reading this then my time has come. I hope you’re doing okay. I don’t want you to miss me too much. Please keep skating. I love watching you skate, more than anything. You look so happy, so carefree. I want you to live like that always. It’s a lot to ask, I know, but I don’t want you to associate something you love so much with sadness. I’m with your mom now, and we’re rooting for you. Always. 
I know it was pretty obvious, but I love you. Actually, that’s an understatement. I’m so in love with you that my heart hurts when I’m not with you. I’m in love with you. And I love that I’m in love with you. I love the feelings. The happiness when I think of you, the butterflies when you text me, the excitement I get when I know I’ll get to see you. It’s amazing. And you’re amazing, and I love you. And I’m sorry I had to keep so many secrets. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the competition. I’m sorry for not telling you about my illness. I didn’t want you to carry this burden with me. You’re the light of my life, Y/n. I love you. 
Love, 
your bestie, sunghoon. 
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haechanokeh · 3 years
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Sincerity is Scary
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[Sad ending] [Continuation & Happy]
synopsis: haechan and you are best friends who couldn't admit their feelings which frustrates them both and the people around the two of you
content: college au! haechan x reader
word count: 1.9K
warning: none
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You spit your coke - that didn't taste like one and coughed. you glared at haechan.
"what did you put in my coke?" you huffed. haechan gave you his innocent look.
"i don't know what you're talking about." he pouted.
"you put soy sauce in it right? i knew i should not leave my food and drinks when you're around." you said throwing tantrums.
haechan laughed and threw his arm over your shoulder and shoved a cold wet can of coke into your cheeks.
"here, drink this." he said, cooly. you rolled your eyes.
"you wasted money just to annoy me, seriously." you grunted.
"it's worth it though." he chuckled.
someone coughed and both of you just realized that you're with haechan's friends which your friends now.
"i thought you two forgotten we're with you." renjun used his sarcastic voice.
"both of you literally have your own worlds." jaemin added.
"i really don't understand why you're not dating here dude." jeno teased.
"what? hell no!" you said in unison.
you looked at each other, silently hurt. both of you felt awkward and haechan removed his arm from your shoulder. you opened the can of coke haechan gave.
haechan friends- renjun, jaemin, and jeno noticed the awkwardness between you. at first it was cute but it has been 3 years, they've been watching both of you and it was clear to them that you like each other. but what's stopping you and haechan from admitting it?
fear of the possibility of being wrong that you have mutual feelings for each other or that what happens if love vanishes because you'll never know. haechan is your childhood friend and your parents are really close there was a time you used to take a bath together when you're still toddlers. basically, you're so close with him and it'll be wasted.
you were lying on your stomach on haechan's bed while scrolling through your phone as you try to distract yourself from menstrual cramps. haechan is playing with his friends through his computer.
you shoved your face and groaned in pain because your menstrual cramp is an asshole! it was sever when it comes, it can make your head throb and your body is very weak. haechan heard you, the other side of his headphone wasn't covering his other ear. he looked back to check on you. he caught you massaging your abdomen.
"y/n?" brows furrowed in concern.
"hmm?" you just hummed.
"are you okay?" he worriedly asked, his hands were on the keyboard but he's not doing anything reason for jeno calling him out.
"haechan, what the hell dude?!"
"not really." you admitted. your in pain it was evident in your voice, face, and body.
haechan quickly removed his headphone and leave his gaming chair to go to you. you turned, your back is lying down now. haechan was staring at your hands on top of your lower abdomen.
"cramps again?" haechan knew how badly it gets when you're in menstruation. you nodded, you're almost tearing up.
he pitied you, he put his hands larger than yours and slightly rougher on top of the back of your palm. he's giving you a massage without directly touching your abdomen.
"you should've told me. wait here, i'll prepare the hot compress bag." he said and stood up.
"you have hot compress?"
"well, ahm.. mom bought it. wait here." he was lying, he bought it himself because he was traumatized 4 months ago where your cramp strike when you were in his house. that was the worst cramp that you ever experienced and it was in haechan's condo. since then, haechan stored napkins and bought hot compress.
haechan took care of you and he gave you his whole attention. he forgotten his game, left his computer open and friends hanging. but his friend already knew that you're always haechan's priority. haechan waited for you to sleep. it became a habit to you to sleep on haechan's arm and he's not bothered even though sometimes he couldn't feel his arm anymore because of numbness. he was jist staring at you as if you're the most precious thing he owns...
haechan saw his computer.
"sht." he cursed, he forgot he's playing. since you're already sleeping, he carefully removed his arm under your head. he went back to his seat and wore his headphone.
"sorry dude, y/n is not feeling well."
"your girlfriend?" jaemin teased. haechan just chuckle... bitterly.
"why don't you date her already?" jeno said.
"haechan, seriously you two look like dating already. why don't you just make it straight already?" renjun said.
haechan went silent. he couldn't count anymore how many times they tell this to him, but for him it was very hard. it wasn't easy, simply because it was scary. he thinks the same way with you, it's just scary of what's the difference of your relationship as friend vs lovers, that if it didn't work out because it's better to be just friends, then what will happen next? will you still become as comfortable with him? will he become as close to you as he used to? it's scary because both of you don't know what will happen so you both chose to hide it and keep it that way.
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it's your university's foundation, there will be a night party. you went inside with haechan but women quickly eyeing at him. who wouldn't? he's wearing a black leathered jacket, ripped jeans, and his hair that is quite long made him more four times sexier.
"haechan, i'll just get a fruit punch. do you want some?" you asked slightly louder than your normal voice because of the noise.
haechan who's enjoying the band's performance, gaze down at you and shook his head.
"no thanks. want me to come with you?" he asked. you just shook your head saying that he doesn't have to. he just nodded and went back enjoying the performance.
you left him and go to the catering buffet just to grab fruit punch and quickly went back to where you left him but you stopped from walking when you saw him with another girl, standing beside him where you left. they were talking intimately, and it was painful. imagine jeno punching your stomach, yes! with those arms and strength, that's the scale of pain.
unware, the three boys- renjun, jeno, and jaemin watching the drama while munching the shared bag of chips.
"she will cry." jeno bet.
"nah, she will push the girl." jaemin contradict.
"tsk, no." renjun grabbed a handful chips from the bag earning a glare from the two. "she will confess." jeno and jaemin eyes bulge out for renjun being ridiculous, at least for them.
"her? that's not gonna happen." jaemin said. renjun rolled his eyes.
"as if she will push the girl jaemin, y/n isn't like that."
well they all agreed and returned watching the drama while eating chips. yeah, they are eating chips in the room with a catering service.
you walk, heart-pounding loudly and hands shaking while holding the cup. you silently stood beside haechan hoping that he will notice you, unfortunately, he didn't. you disappointedly sipped on the paper cup.
you were silently and listening to their conversation- well you are trying your best because the loud music made it harder for you. they were like getting to know each other kind of questions.
you're getting annoyed so you sneakily held haechan's hand. he quickly whipped his head down to you. he gazed at your hands then to you who looking straight to the band. when haechan realize it was you, warm electricity traveled in his whole system. the random girl saw everything, so she concluded that you and haechan are dating.
"well, I have to go to my friends... ahm bye." the girl nervously and quickly walked away. haechan didn't mind her, he was just staring at you.
"is she gone?" you looked up to face haechan who was seriously looking at you.
for some odd reason, his expression made your heartbeat fast not in a fluttering way but it made you nervous.
"let's talk outside." he told you sounding a little disappointed. both of you walk while holding hands.
and the 3 guys? saw that and was jumping on their feet and slapping each other in excitement.
"dude, dude! they will finally date!" jaemin said
"finally my frustration will end now." renjun said, he sighed in relief hands on top of his chest. "but why do i feel something ominous." he said feeling unease.
"don't jinx it." jeno groaned.
you and haechan were outside the hall, away from the crowd and noise. haechan let go of your hand and face you.
you were looking nervous and he.. he's sad and disappointed.
"i will never date a friend." haechan directly told you that you didn't expect to hear.
the atmosphere was tense and it's like the heaven and hell compressing you made you feel so small. you were deeply hurt but you didn't allow haechan to see that. you masked it with a laugh.
"why are you telling me that? wah... you think i will date you? yikes." you were laughing and it looked so real. you badly want to cry but don't want to. you were disappointed that you were right. you're just too close, his actions to you are equally no different to a friend.
haechan? like he was hurt. he was asking himself why did he say that? it wasn't real but he was also asking himself, why did you say that? it was written all over your face no matter how many emotions and expressions you put in your face, you were deeply hurt.
"well, i thought you were falling for me already." he grinned. you rolled your eyes.
"in your dreams." yeah, only in dreams.
"let's go back?" haechan asks holding in the pain in his chest. you gave him a smile.
"you go back first, i'll just go to the toilet." holding back your tears. the toilet is in the opposite direction from the room.
haechan just nodded and left you, parting ways. you turned your back and released every single emotion as you walked quickly towards the toilet room.
haechan with a heavy heart went back to the room. his friends approached haechan, hugging him and playfully pushing him.
"congrats dude!" renjun said cheerfully. haechan's forehead creased.
"what?"
"dude, you're finally dating y/n!" renjun said. but they saw haechan's face, it doesn't look like you were dating already. their smiles fell and turned into disbelief.
"what?! how?!" jeno exclaimed.
"just, i don't know." he shrugged.
"it's your fault, you jinxed it" jaemin amused that it was really jinxed by renjun. renjun gripped his own hair in frustration.
so why did haechan lie?
he realized that his world is small because the only person in it is you and that's not good. but he never wanted to lose you. at the same time haechan with the same reason that he always says in his mind. if things don't work out, someone will definitely leave. he couldn't bear that.
does it make sense? no. he's just convincing his self that this is why you don't like to date y/n.
sincerity is hard to give especially if you overthink things. as the song said, questioning why can't we just be sincere? it so easy but why is it hard for us? well, there are times that when we choose sincerity we ended up being vulnerable. the idea of being hurt is scary but you know what either way it's painful but it was extra painful when you became sincere because you know you became true to yourself but weren't accepted.
there will be another part, continuation but for people who don't like sad ending life me 😿
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