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itsdanii · 3 years

Note

I’d like to request the prompt of “I...um, Can I hold your hand?” With my bby, Kyotani. My pronouns are she/her and I love to be called “Sweetheart”. Thanks so much, I love you! 🥰💖💞

Hey, bub! Thank you so much for requesting, I actually enjoyed writing this one! ♥️ Apologies for the slight delay. Have a good day, stay safe and hydrated! I love you too ♥️

Fall for me

genre: fluff

warning/s: slight cursing, message me if i missed any

a/n: please do read the warnings before you proceed. warnings have been put there for a reason.

prompt/s: "I-um... can I hold your hand?"

ft. kyotani kentaro, f!reader

maybe getting stucked inside the gym wasn't a bad thing after all

For the nth time, you tried pulling at the doorknob, only to be met with a rattling sound. You've been trying to open it for quite a while now and yet it still won't budge no matter how hard you try.

Currently, you're stucked inside the vollyball gym with none other than Kyotani Kentaro.

A few hours back, you and your friends decided to pay the volleyball practice a visit. It was the daily routine of your friend group to always visit after class. You knew that most of them only visited for the sake of fangirling over the main four, but as for you, it was a different case.

If not for a certain person, you won't even bother coming here. Actually, you've been watching Kyotani for several months now. The moment you saw the way he played, you were immediately smitten. Despite how "rough" he was inside the court, you didn't fail to notice how much effort he puts in playing, especially when Tooru was inside.

In his own way, he was interesting.

Checking your wrist watch, you groaned upon noticing that it was already 6:52 PM, and you had to be home at 7 because you still have some tasks to finish.

Deciding to seek for help, you turned around to call the attention of the person who's currently stuck with you inside the school gym.

Sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, Kyotani's eyes were sharply focused on you as he watched your every movement.

The sight of him looking at you intensely made your knees weak, but despite the "bad boy" aura around him, you knew that he wouldn't do anything to purposely hurt you nor make you uncomfortable which is the exact reason why having an eye contact with him made your heart rate pick up.

It was... thrilling.

"The fuck are you starin' at?" he asked in a snappy manner when you failed to speak up.

Clearing the lump inside your throat, you pointed at the door behind you nervously. "Uh, the door... it won't open."

Instead of giving you an answer, Kyotani just stood up and made his way towards you. He looked down at you with a small frown which instantly made you feel self conscious.

He was too close that you could almost smell him, and the way that he was hovering over you made you feel small in his presence. He was slowly leaning in, eyes never leaving yours as he placed a hand beside your head.

Out of instinct, you fluttered your eyes close and held in your breath. Your hands fisted the hem of your jacket beside you as you waited for his lips to come. After all, he was trying to kiss you, right?

But instead of feeling his lips against yours, you felt his breath tickling your ear.

"Move."

Opening your eyes, you blinked in confusion at what just happened. "I.. Huh?" you muttered as you turned your head a bit to the side to face him, your noses almost touching as you did so.

With the side of his lips curled up, Kyotani simply answered, "Move. The door's behind you."

Your face immediately heated up in embarrassment. Quickly, you moved out of the way while muttering continuous apologies, mentally giving yourself a smack on the head for being assuming.

"It's locked from the outside." Kyouani said as he gave the door another push. "I can try calling the team but.." he paused for a moment and scratched the back of his head, his eyes averting away from you as he muttered, "I don't have their numbers."

Your lips parted upon hearing that and before you knew it, you were already giggling.

This caused him to look at you and just like that, Kyotani felt his heart skip a beat, his face suddenly feeling hot. With a grunt, he walked away and went back to his previous position, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall.

"You're a fan girl, aren't you?" Kyotani asked to which you simply nodded. "Don't you have any of the members' number? Why don't you-"

"Do you actually think that just because I idolize your team, I have their number?" You walked over to him and sat beside him, your knees pressed against your chest with your chin resting on top of them. "I don't go around asking people for their number just because I'm a fan, you know? I'm not that... bold. Plus, my battery's dead."

"Ah.."

Silence enveloped the two of you after that and only the sound of the insects along with the pitter patter of the light rain tapping outside could be heard. However, it wasn't awkward. In fact, it felt relaxing.

"Can't we just break the door?" you suggested out of nowhere. "I don't really want to stay here until help comes. What if nobody comes until the morning?"

"Why don't you try breaking it then?" Kyotani answered with a grumpy voice.

You rolled your eyes at the tone of his voice. Resting your left cheek against your knees, you looked at him with a small frown. "Why are you always so snappy, Kyotani-kun?Even during practices, I see you snapping at your teammates. I could even remember that one time during your match when you bumped into-"

"You're noisy."

Instantly, you stopped speaking, a low murmur of apology slipping past your lips before you turned completely silent. You felt your confidence wavering after that. This was basically your only chance to try getting close to your crush and yet you ended up making him uncomfortable.

How stupid.

As you were about to turn your face to the opposite direction, Kyotani suddenly added, "-But I didn't say you should stop."

"Oh.." You couldn't find the right words to say. Heck, you didn't even know how to react properly. Who would, when the person they like basically just hinted that they like talking with them?

Seeing your flustered state, Kyotani couldn't help but smile. He was used to seeing girls becoming a blushing mess especially around Oikawa but when it came towards him, they would always scurry away. Sure, he might always have a grumpy expression but it didn't mean that he was a bad person, right?

He also wanted to experience the feeling of someone looking at his direction - someone who would look past his intimidating nature and would personally get to know him.

He wanted someone to understand him.

"I-um... Can I hold your hand?" he asked unconsciously. Once the words escaped his mouth, his eyes widened.

What if you thought that he was a pervert?

What if you get scared of him just like they all do?

But instead of moving away from him, Kyotani was surprised to see you smiling. He knew that you also didn't expected him to ask such question but there was something in your reaction that made him hopeful. It made him feel nervous and confident at the same time.

Was this how it felt like to realize they like someone?

Once you reached your hand out to him, Kyotani swallowed the lump inside his throat and placed his hand on yours. He enveloped your hand in his and he couldn't help but admire how your hands fitted with each other.

And if it wasn't enough that he was already just as flustered as you were awhile ago, you suddenly said something that almost made his heart leap out of his chest.

"I like you, Kyotani. That's the reason why I always visit the gym after class. While the other girls come here to fan girl over the rest of the team, I had my eyes focused on you, admiring you silently... and if you reject me now, I'd accept it. It's not everyday that I get stuck inside the gym with my crush so I just wanted to let you know. Don't worry, we can forget about this tomorrow and I'll stop visiting your practices to avoid making you feel uncomfortable."

Kyotani felt you trying to detach your hand from his but instead of letting you, he tightened his hold on your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't," he said with a slight shake of his head.

Confused, you raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't? What do you mean don't?"

"Don't stop visiting our practices. Don't stop looking at my direction," he muttered with a low voice, "This is the first time someone confessed to me so I don't really know what to say but one thing I'm sure of is that I'm not going to reject you. This is new to me and I don't want to end up fucking it up but if you promise me that you'd be willing to be patient for me, I'd also promise to do my best. There's... something about you that makes me feel attracted and willing to give it a try."

You instantly felt relieved when you heard those words. It might've sounded as if he was challenging you but it was enough to prove you that you had a chance.

"I'll surely make you fall for me, Kyotani Kentaro," you answered with a confident smile.

Smirking, Kyotani squeezed your hand gently once again before he nodded. "I'll look forward to it then, sweetheart."

a/n: Im not thinking of turning this into a fic series. This one? Pft. Totally not 👁️👄👁️

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uwuch9n · 3 years

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hey !!! today i’m gonna be trying to write some fluff to calm myself down and also try out something new in the process ! hope whoever reads this enjoys it :)

characters: kenma, nb y/n (self insert or oc) and a bit of kuroo :D

warnings or possible triggers: ear biting, neck kissing, wrists/arms being touched, stressed/overworked/anxious reader, and a thunderstorm/heavy rain ! please do not continue reading if any of these things could trigger any unwanted reactions ! maybe the next time i write some fluff or sfw fanfics you’ll be able to read ‘em !

a nice welcome home.

after a long day at your new job, a manga artist, you decided to end your shift for the night and head back home. you wiped the sweat off your forehead but the stress wasn’t easy to get rid of. the office wanted the manga to be done as soon as possible and you couldn’t get the last few pages right. it was very obviously a hard week for you. luckily it was a friday so you’d get saturday off, but sunday you had to go back.

after getting yourself together you stuffed your things into your bag and walked out to get in your car.

“hey there y/n! lookin great huh, i see you’re ready to go home to lil kenken right?? how you doing?” said kuroo as he ran into you right outside the establishment. he worked near that area and decided to stop by, luckily he walked into you at the right time.

“im doing well,, i guess.. i just was overthinking a bit but i’m sure tomorrow, or even tonight, i’ll be able to refresh myself and relax..” you said almost trying to avoid contact for the time being. kuroo noticed you didn’t seem to excited about things and so he decided to give you some words of encouragement.

“i’m sure whenever you get to relax you’ll be ready for work again! and besides you got a lil pal waiting for you at home, don’t you look forward to that?? he’s pretty good at comforting,, and i should know”- he chuckled. you gave him a smile and nodded in agreement. you let out a sigh and walked off to your car right before kuroo grasped your left shoulder and pulled you in for a hug. he patted your head with his hand and reassured you. you got a little flustered,, but kept it in.

“you’re doing amazing, really. i know you work really hard, so make sure to cool off, ‘kay? you got this in the bag!” he said, you clearly being able to sense his smile through his decently raspy voice. he let you go and gave you a little push to get you back together after the short hug, and you both waved goodbye.

well that was quite an experience. you knew that kuroo wasn’t a homewrecker, especially when it came to kenma’s s/o, but he was getting much more comfortable and supportive with you. that made you happy, but after thinking about what had just happened, you refocused and started your car.

you drove through the freeway and noticed all the billboards promoting businesses that you knew you’d rather be working at. you meet a stop sign and let out a sigh while other cars drive by. when it’s time to go, you go, as one would normally do, but you noticed that some water droplets were gently hitting the windshield of your car. it started getting a bit rougher and even more water droplets starting hitting your windshield, only this time they got louder.

you could hear all the other cars driving by thanks to the water that was slightly flooding the streets. you make a swift turn into your apartment complex and slowed down as you arrived at your apartment. you park at your designated spot and turn off your car. you adjust your bag straps that had fallen off your shoulder without you realizing, and reached into the back side of your car to get your umbrella. unfortunately it wasn’t there so you’d have to get wet, and it was raining pretty heavily. you sighed and reached into your cup holder for your apartment keys and got the right key ready in your hand for when you got to the door.

you slam your car door and lock it.

“goddamit” you let out as you start feeling your clothes getting humid. your shoes were hitting the floor inundated by the rain. you started running towards your door which fortunately was on the first floor. you inserted the key into the keyhole and turned your wrist gently as you peeked into the window. you could see the flashing lights of the tv. kenma was probably playing games again.

you closed the door and brushed yourself off as you glanced at kenma who had turned to see what that noise was. he knew it was you but he still wanted to see your pretty tired face. you gently took of your shoes and put your jacket and bag on the racks on the wall next to the door. you pushed your shoes with your foot and went to put on your favorite slippers.

“hey love, how did today go..?” asked kenma in a soft gentle voice, as to not startle you while you still were trying to shake off the water that had been absorbed by your clothes. you look up at kenma with an exhausted expression. “today was very stressful,, my manager told me to hurry up,, the artwork is due literally wednesday of next week and i can’t even get the stuff i’m working on now finished and-” kenma stopped your rambling by gesturing a hug and making gentle movements to come here with his small hands. you looked at him with a surprised expression, and then quickly changed it to a pleasant smile.

by then you realized that he had paused his game and the music of the game was still playing in the background, only a little quieter then when it’s actually on. you head to his little pile of blankets and pillows, and saw your favorite stuffed animal and a few snacks already set up for you for when you came home. that made you feel a lot better than before. “hey kenken, what’s all this stuff?” you asked acting clueless, but also trying to hear what he had to say about the setup. “it’s just a few things for you to pick out from,, i even brought you your little frog plushie; i know you like it..” he said while grabbing it and handing it to you. he blushed a little as you took it from his hands, gently caressing his as you did.

you took a look at a frog plushie but before you could get a full 360° look of it you saw kenma’s slender hands covering the two small black eyes of the plush. he set the plush down on your lap and grabbed your wrists. he knew your wrists were probably tired and sore after all that nonstop sketching at work, so he started gently rubbing them with his thumbs. he looked at your hands as he did, and then looked up at you. you had a cute shocked expression which he loved to paint on your face. he giggled and then went in for a kiss on the cheek.

after his soft tender lips were lifted from your cheek, you felt a bit of rustling and then a little blow on your ear which made you squirm. he bit it gently and kissed the side of your neck, while you sat there a bit flustered. kenma was usually the type to just give you a kiss on the cheek and continue playing his game, but recently you were getting much more attention from him. you didn’t mind it though, you kinda enjoyed it rather.

“you don’t have to give me neck kisses y’know..” you said hoping that he wouldn’t listen and just continue for a good minute. he of course didn’t stop and completely brushed off what you had just said. he moved to your shoulder and started kissing it, and then he pulled away. he look at you and gave you a smile, leaning in for a kiss afterwards. you kissed back and then grabbed him by the shoulders. both of you were blushing intensely, his blush just a little more calmed down, but it was there nonetheless.

“let’s eat some snacks, shall we?” you say after pulling away from the kiss and sitting there being a hot mess. you could hear the rain only getting rougher and rougher, and at one point you heard thunder. it was gonna be a loooong night. “let’s do that then” he said smiling as he reached over to the bowl full of strawberry pocky and small chocolate chip cookies. he fed you a stick of the strawberry coated biscuit and you nommed down on it happily, while he pulled away the excess pocky stick and brushed crumbs off of your lips with his thumb. his hand grasped the side of your face and he went to kiss your cheek once again before feeding you the rest of the pocky.

kenma turned to face the tv and then slowly got up to grab another controller for you to play with, since he was already playing a game and he wanted you to play along as well. you watched his flimsy self get up and come back to the floor in front of the couch. he sat down criss cross apple sauce style and handed you the controller, all while the thunder was still alive and the rain was still pouring.

“do you want to keep playing this game or... another game i have in our room...?” asked kenma in hopes that you’d say you wanted to continue playing the game he was already playing. he didn’t want to get up when he was right next to you. “this game seems fun, i’d love to play it with you” you said happily as you took the controller he had handed you and held it correctly so that he could get the multiplayer setting on and you’d be ready when he did.

you heard silly sound effects from when he switched the setting to multiplayer, and it filled you up with motivation for some reason. the thunderstorm and heavy raining didn’t bother you anymore because you knew you’d be safe with kenma. the music of the game got louder and kenma slowly lowered it a bit as to not disturb the apartment building. “you have to jump over the brown mushrooms and then jump into the green tubes and-” “..super mario bros..? don’t worry baby i know how to play this one” you winked at him and he let out a giggle.

he layed his head on your left shoulder which made you blush, and you followed it with a wide-eyed expression. he didn’t look too into it though, he was just focused in the game, and for him it was only nature. you rested your head on top of his and continued to play. time passed and it was around 2 AM. you and kenma had played for hours, and kenma was seemingly getting pretty tired, just as you were. “hey bub do you want to maybe go to bed now?” you suddenly paused the game and asked. “bed..?” he looked confused. he directed his eyes to the couch behind you two and you followed, quickly looking back at him.

“do you want to sleep on the couch tonight?” you put the puzzle pieces together. he nodded his head. “you don’t have work tomorrow so i figured you wouldn’t mind sleeping with me on the couch....” he said quietly in hopes that you would. you grabbed his face with your warm hands and kissed his forehead. “yeah of course i do!” you said trying to be enthusiastic, although your tired face barely allowed it. you both got up and he laid on the couch. you tried getting the bowl of snacks from off the floor and bring them to the kitchen but kenma quickly pulled you into his arms.

“tomorrow.. tomorrow we can clean up...” he said exhausted as you now were covering his body with yours. you adjusted yourself as did kenma and you both got into ‘cuddle mode.’

his arms wrapped around your body and you slowly started to kiss him all over. he laid his head back onto the arm of the couch. you relaxed your stiffened body, and closed your eyes as the music from the video game slowly faded away into nothing. kenma’s arms rubbed your back and moved to your head and shoulders. he gave you a final kiss on your head before drifting off to sleep.

that’s all ! i hope you enjoyed this self insert x kenma fluff fanfic ! if this does any good i’ll consider writing more fluff in the future :))

#hq fluff #fluff #haikyuu fluff #fluff fanfic #fanfic #sfw fanfic #kozume kenma #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #kenma haikyuu #haikyuu kozume #kenma fluff #kozume fluff #sfw #sfw writing #writing

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chaoskirin · 3 years

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Reversed (Reworked) Chapter One

Well, I finally did it! I am re-working Reversed in order to remove the Harry Potter from it. This was one of my most popular Queen stories, written before the author of HP showed her true colors. I like the story too much to allow it to be tainted by that BS, so here it is with a new coat of paint!

There is, of course, still some similarities. I’m REMOVING the Harry Potter. And while that does necessitate some re-writes, the gist is still the same. I hope you enjoy the story as I repost it chapter by chapter!

PLEASE Reblog, and please feel free to comment on AO3. I love comments, if you’re so inclined.

AO3 link can be found here!

---

Chapter Title: In His Eyes Word Count: 5148 Rating: PG Genre: Fantasy/Gen Summary: Roger, Brian, and John are brought together by a shared accident.

Between the two of them, Brian and John should have been able to get Roger up the stairs. Should have. Except Roger had become dead weight between them, legs dragging, black eyes staring.

"Did you hex his legs, too?" Brian snapped, lip curling at John, who supported Roger's other arm.

Neither Brian--a student in the Kyyra View--nor John--who made his home in Vexxzus--were particularly powerful. Despite Roger falling prey to the same muscle-less predicament, he sure had a healthy weight to him. As John stumbled on an uneven step, he growled, "Use your legs, Taylor!"

"I thought I was supposed to be playing the grievously injured damsel in distress?"

Brian groaned. "How are you still joking about this? You can't see, you idiot!"

"Bet he can walk, though." John elbowed Roger's ribs, and miraculously, the Oerris found his feet.

Vale Rest loomed ahead of them--an enormous, crooked tree growing out of a shallow escarpment. The natural magical force in the area made it an ideal, if not unsightly, place to construct an academy. At least it blended in with the environment, which was more that could be said for other schools. Of course to get to it, one had to climb a million steps.

At least that's what it felt like.

They paused outside the southern tanglewood doors to catch their breath. Despite their altercation, John kept one hand on Roger's arm out of guilt; he couldn't just leave the other student alone on the dark after everything, especially since it wasn't meant to happen.

John only meant to disarm the other boy, but a much nastier curse had bubbled up in his mind instead. The anger, combined with the fresh blood on his hands, led to the recitation of a spell he didn't even know he knew.

Scraping his thumb across his palm, John dislodged the last of the dried beetle haemolymph. Vexxzus spellcasting was disgusting but powerful, and he could still feel the magical aura around him from the insect's death. With that alone, he'd be able to cast for many hours.

As if reading his mind, Brian asked, "Why can't you Vexxzus have a normal focus?" He ran his hand over the branched barrier in front of him until he found the right combination, after which the door swung open. "To cast immediately, too. It's... Well, it's irresponsible is what it is!"

"Aw, c'mon. You know Vexxzus' magic is pretty new," Roger said, glancing up from the floor. An intricate black mask traced the skin in and around his eyes, the pattern almost like lace. It was disturbing but beautiful, shimmering like stars. John couldn't stop looking at it, half with pride and half with horror. A second year student such as himself shouldn't have been able to cast such a curse.

"Decades old," Brian corrected as he and John guided Roger onto the flagstone interior, then toward yet another set of stairs. "A new study in the course of history, sure, but it's been around--There's still people alive who were kids when it first manifested. It's hardly new! Anyway, why are you defending him?"

"Mmmh," Roger mused, his feet tapping in front of him to find the steps. "It looks like he's sorry."

"Looks like!" Brian exclaimed. "You can't bloody see!"

"But I can feel!" Roger argued. "Look at 'im. He's practically shakin' out of his boots."

John certainly did feel as if he'd be expelled for this, or that his family would disown him. Or kill him. Consequently, he couldn't prevent the occasional shudder from wracking his body.

Brian grunted a halfhearted acknowledgement. Roger patted John's arm and said, "It's okay, John. Trust me."

John curled his lip, sneering. "How, in any way, is this okay?"

"It's not," Brian said. "And once we make sure Roger's okay, I'm telling the Council everything."

"I hope you make sure you tell them that this idiot challenged me to a duel in the first place!" John snarled. "And you were his second, May!"

"'This idiot' is right here," Roger noted.

"Good! Don't challenge me to a duel next time!"

"Roger that!" Roger Roger'd.

Incredulous, Brian let Roger go, and stood with his hands on his hips. "Oh, you'll listen to him?" Brian demanded. "This is a snake, Roger. We step on snakes. I'm your best friend, and I clearly remember telling you that this was a bad idea."

"Well, I mean..." Roger fumbled for words. "There's a big difference between 'this is a bad idea' and 'don't do the thing.' Seems to me like we should keep John around. He has the potential to stop me from doing some incredibly stupid stuff!"

John chuckled before he realized what he was doing.

"It's not funny, you prat," Brian said. "You could have killed him." Killed? No. Could he have? Granted, he'd said the words to the curse that blinded Roger before he really knew what he was saying, as if they had a mind of their own. He'd screamed them, in fact, if he remembered right. At full volume, louder than he'd ever said anything before.

What if his anger had driven him to say something else, though? There were rumors. The barest whispers of the power of Death Magic--the power to take a life for a life. Since the Vexxzus View manifested some seventy-odd years ago, those in the darkest reaches of the world had experimented. And, it had been theorized, the words came from deep within; a language spoken with no context. An ancient tongue... "No," John said, half to himself and half to Brian. "I couldn't have. I'm twelve." He stopped on the stairs, distracted by the idea. "You could have. I'm honestly surprised you didn't," Brian said. "Pleasantly, mind, since we're all still very much alive. Thanks for that."

Could he have felt so much hate in that moment that he could have possibly used magic to kill? Was it even possible? If anyone could do it, his View could.

No.

"Let's go, Rog," Brian said, taking Roger's arm again. He gave John another good glare before turning away.

Despite his blindness, Roger still faced backward even as Brian dragged him up the stairs. Eventually, Roger turned away as well, and John thought that would be the end of it. He'd escape to his dormitory and await his punishment while he pondered if he was capable of killing another student in hatred.

Well. Hatred was too strong a word. John didn't particularly like Roger Taylor, but he didn't hate him.

"Hang on, Bri," Roger said. John looked up again, to find the Oerris student feeling his way down the stairs on his own. John automatically reached out to help him. Roger wasn't a bad kid after all... He was just a bit of a jackass. And definitely didn't deserve a life of blindness for a few idiot pranks. "John, I told you, it'll be okay." He took one of John's hands in both of his, and for a second, John believed him.

"No, he's like all the other Vexxzuses," Brian grumbled. "He'll grow up to be a murderer. Maybe even the first person to murder someone with a single word."

John wrenched his hand away from Roger. He lacked the fortitude to argue, since fear and a painfully insistent shame clouded his thoughts. He actually could have killed someone! And even if Roger was just an stick-waving Oerris like the rest of them, with no sense of artistry to the craft, he was still a kid.

Also, the most confusing person John had ever met, because who in their right mind was actually nice to someone who'd just cast a terrible curse on you?

Roger, apparently. An person with feelings and dreams and goals. What if, instead of staring into Roger's starry eyes, John had to stare at his life-robbed corpse?

He saw it for a moment. A snow-pale classmate, dead and still. Struck with the gravity of what could have happened, John shuffled backwards. Unfortunately, as he was on a step, his foot landed on thin air, resulting in an immediate tumble. Something cracked as he tried to catch himself, and the resulting pain followed him all the way down. He couldn't remember how high up he was, but by the time he collided with the landing, he felt like he'd rolled down a hundred stairs. Howling in agony, he curled against the banister, clutching at his arm.

"What happened?" Roger asked. "John?"

"Look--I didn't mean it, Deacon," Brian said, footsteps getting closer. "I mean, as far as Vexxzuses go, you're all right, I guess? What'd you go and--Oh, hell, this is broken."

John opened his eyes, tears distorting the blue and silver colors of Brian's Kyyra uniform. "Broken?" John hadn't ever seen that look on Brian's face before. Gentle, worried, caring. Before, it always looked so angry. "You're both idiots," he said.

"Brian?" Roger whimpered.

Brian bit his lip, brow furrowed. "Okay, Rog... Let me..." He stood, skipping back up the stairs. Taking Roger by the hand, he guided him back down to the landing. "Sit here with Deacon. I'm gonna go get a nurse. Don't move, either of you. I mean it."

After helping Roger sit, Brian ran off, at a much quicker pace, toward the hospital. All John wanted to do was cry, really, but he found himself distracted when he felt Roger's hand on his hip. "What are you...?" John started. But Roger seemed to be concentrating quite intently as he moved his hand, finding John's elbow. A little more, and he was touching John's shoulder. "Ah-ha!" he exclaimed. Reaching all the way around, Roger pulled John up, until he was sitting. Not one to reject any sort of comfort at the moment, John leaned against Roger, relishing the warmth. "Did you fall down the whole flight?" Roger asked. "Half, maybe," John said, glancing up and estimating. "Yeah, half. May says my arm is broken." He looked down at it and wished he hadn't; no arm should be able to bend quite that way, and seeing it just made it hurt more.

"Why do you do that?" Roger asked.

"What? Fall? It's a hobby."

"No. You call me and Brian by our last names. I mean, he does it, too, but just 'cuz you do, I think."

John really had no idea. It seemed like the thing to do, he supposed. Take something precious to someone and completely ignore it in favor of something less personal? Seemed stupid, now that he really thought about it.

"Anyway," Roger went on. "This is quite a spell you did. I think you might know more than Brian." More than a stuck up old Kyyra? Possible. Probable, even. Though Brian didn't seem like the type to study curses in the first place. Academics could name a curse and maybe even go through the incantation for a test, but to actually pull it off? Nah. Most who shared the Kyyra View had the same problem, at least as far as John knew.

He took a moment to feel pride at the compliment, until the implications hit him. Looking into Roger's eyes, he winced. "It's bad, Roger."

"I know."

"Then why are you so calm?"

He smiled serenely. "Well, it's done, isn't it? There's nothing I can do about it right this minute. Besides, I don't think you meant to."

After a moment, John said, "No. I really didn't." There was no sense wasting an opportunity to learn, though. He leaned over to look at the spell's handiwork again. "What's it like? Do you see anything?"

Roger shook his head. "No. N'come to think of it, I'm not totally sure what... what it was like to see." His eyes narrowed, the bright stars shifting around inside. "That's strange. I mean, odd, isn't it? I don't remember what you look like."

John felt sick.

"It'll be okay!" Roger said again. "Brian'll demand the Head Matron. Salwix, or her assistant Cammielle. He gets all panicky and people kinda take him seriously 'cuz he's so brainy. They'll make it better."

John wasn't so sure.

In the idle silence, Roger waved a hand in front of his own face, expression elated, as if this was the most wonderful thing to ever happen to him. "Wow! What's a hand look like? I can feel it, but I don't remember. Neat, huh? You know, my view's colors are purple and gold, but I can't even think of what purple is anymore! This is so weird--"

"Please stop," John said weakly.

"Eh? All right. Just thought you wanted to know, is all." Roger pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them.

"Didn't know it did all that," John replied. "Actually I wasn't sure what it'd do. I think I read about it once. My family's got these old books. Sometimes I'd sneak into my mom's study to read them."

"Didja get in trouble?"

John laughed. "Yeah. Sometimes." Roger laughed, too, then said, "Look at us, havin' a normal conversation for once."

"You're cursed, and I've just broken my arm. This isn't how normal people have a chat."

"Normal as we've ever had. Anyway, you seem nice enough. How'd you end up with the Death View, anyway? I thought only the creepy ones ended up there."

John curled his nose. A lot of people thought the same of Vexxzus, but one couldn't control their magical aptitude any more than they could control the color of the sky. "They shouldn't be called Views," John answered. It was the only thing he could think of to say.

"Yeah, but--"

"It's just a way to do magic, all right? And some people are... better at it than the other views. Some people... It's all they can do."

"Really? It's all you can do?" Roger pressed. "I'm good at Oerris, but I can do Kyyra if I really concentrate. But I don't want to concentrate, so..." He trailed off with a shrug. "You know Brian can do all four? Even Ghittan?"

John didn't know that. His respect for the Kyyra increased a fraction of a millimeter.

After re-situating his arm, which had dulled from a brilliant pain to a mere sharp ache, John said, "yes, it's all I can do."

"Weird," Roger said, though his voice carried a hint of contemplation to it. "We all just thought that--"

"Oh! Heavens, there they are, just like you said!" a voice echoed from the upper landing, cutting Roger off as a heavyset nurse bustled down the steps. Headmatron Salwix, who ran the entire hospital, reached John and Roger and knelt down next to them. Brian followed a few steps behind.

Salwix reached into her pocket, retrieving a pouch, out of which she took a pinch of red clay. Looping the pouch around her thumb, she reached for John's wrist; her touch set it to throbbing again, and he squealed.

She tsk'd. "You're right, May. Definitely broken. Falling down a flight of steps at your age, Deacon? Remind me--"

"A second-year, ma'am," Brian supplied.

"Well, I suppose it happens sometimes," Salwix muttered, gently sprinkling the cold clay down John's forearm. She muttered a healing incantation John hadn't yet learned and added, "this will numb the pain until I can take a closer look. But it's still broken, so don't go doing cartwheels on it."

John's answered with a relieved sign. "Yes, ma'am."

"As for you..." she said, turning to Roger. Reaching for his face, she grabbed his cheeks and turned his head from side to side, squishing his lips into a pucker with her grasp. With her other hand, she traced the lines around his eyes. "Cold, smooth. I know what this is, but I haven't seen it in years, and then, only once in my entire career! What in Merlin's name happened?"

John looked up at Brian. The Kyyra crossed his arms, quickly looking away. He hadn't told!

"Whrrbwoosiiyrrs--" Roger tried. Salwix released his face.

After rubbing his jaw, Roger tried again. "One of the sixth-years bet me that I couldn't curse myself," he said, brimming with unearned pride. "Now he owes me n' Brian n' John here a round next time we go to Rec."

John bristled. How dare a stick-waver take credit for John's brilliant spell? Before he could ruin their whole cover, though, he bit his tongue. Roger seemed to be in the process of saving his ass, which meant John was going to have to let that little insult go. At least for now.

Salwix looked up at Brian, who rolled his eyes. "Roger's an idiot, Matron Salwix," he said. "I found him wandering around down the hill. Me n' Deacon were helping him get up to the hospital, but then..."

"I see. Well, Mister Taylor, I'll be informing your View's council that you've been using advanced curses. This won't go unpunished, I'm afraid. This sort of magic is dangerous." She shook her head, clicking her tongue. "At least you didn't curse someone else. Honestly, you children. Up. Both of you. We'll have you seen to."

With Salwix helping Roger to his feet, that left Brian to help John. He did so with surprising care, slowly, so as not to jar the broken arm too badly. It still stung, now that gravity was pulling on it. John held it to his chest, feeling tears sting at his eyes again. "Matron Salwix?" John asked. "Can you fix his eyes? He's going to be okay, right?"

Salwix turned, hesitating. Roger said, "It's okay. You can say." "There are... some side effects," she said. "Minor, but obvious, I'm afraid. But you'll see again." Side effects. As Salwix helped Roger up the stairs, John met Brian's eyes, and they shared a moment of worry.

~*~

"Uuughhhh," Roger groaned. As he became more and more conscious, the headache seemed to get worse. Still, he chanced opening his eyes, grimacing as the light hit them. He threw his arms up in front of his face to block it out.

Well, at least he remembered what seeing was like now. Pain. Agony.

"Roger," someone whispered.

"No, not so loud," he whined. Peering through his fingers, he found John and Brian standing over him. If John would only move a little bit to the right, he'd block out the overhead light...

"We're between classes," Brian said, as quietly as he could manage. Thankfully, Brian's voice was fairly comforting anyway, but it still made Roger's head hurt. "Thought we'd come see if you were awake yet." Between classes? Roger's duel with John was on Saturday, which meant he must have missed all of Sunday. At least. "So, this is when I ask the cliché, 'how long was I out?' question, I suppose." He squeezed his eyes shut and added, "Shut up, Roger. You're too loud."

"He's Roger, though," John said, worried. "He knows. He's just being funny," Brian replied. "Or trying. It rarely ever hits the mark." "Hey, I'm funny." Roger opened one eye again, and gestured to the window. "Think one of you can shut the curtains?" "They're closed, Rog," Brian said. "Besides, it's cloudy out. You're just very photosensitive right now. It'll pass." "Oh, yeah, don't take my photo right now, either. I imagine I'm a bit of a mess. Now, c'mon. Tell me. How long was I out?"

Brian and John looked at each other. Roger noticed that John's wrist was neither wrapped, nor did it look like it hurt at all as he cradled a stack of books. "Ah, well," John said. "Salwix put you out for a week. She thought you'd wake up today. I got your homework."

Roger groaned.

"I told you, he doesn't like homework," Brian said. "You should have saved that for when he was up and about."

Roger smiled. "You two friends now?"

"He needed someone to keep him in line. Vexxzuses, you know," Brian said.

John rolled his eyes.

Roger pushed himself up until he was sitting. The headache was easing a bit now, although it still felt like someone had grabbed his brain, shaken it, and put it back sideways. One would think that with all the mages around Vale Rest, they might have found a way to eliminate such inconveniences entirely. Maybe he'd ask Salwix for a headache draught once Brian and John left. "You guys figure out what the side effects are supposed to be?"

They smiled, and John giggled behind his hand. Roger didn't like that. It meant they were in on a joke that he wasn't in on, and that was unacceptable. "C'mon, it can't be too serious. What? What is it? Do I have another eye?" He waved his hand in front of his face, but found that he was still seeing in boring, normal three dimensions. No mystical powers of prestidigitation. Alas. "Is he disappointed that he doesn't have another eye?" John asked.

"No," Roger said. Then, "Yes, maybe."

"It's not that exciting," Brian said. "John, did you bring the mirror?"

"Oh, right. Hang on." He set his books down on the nightstand and slung his bag off his shoulder, digging through it. "You'll have some dark circles under your eyes," Brian said. "That's thanks to the initial masking spell effect. But it doesn't look that bad, honestly, I think. It's the other thing... Show him. He'll probably love it." John handed him the mirror. Despite his curiosity, Roger still felt just the slightest amount of trepidation as he looked into it... and found that his eyes were a rather fetching shade of bright lavender. Surprising, to say the least. He wondered if it was a trick of the light, but when he moved the mirror, they stayed purple.

"Salwix says they'll change based on the weather," Brian said. "It's raining now, so... We're guessing purple is rain. We'll have to see what the rest is. I guess that's the true intention of the spell, it's just... imperfect. Also, it's..."

"Not reversible," John said quietly. "I'm really sorry, Roger."

He missed the blue, it was true. Still, John seemed so down, and it could have ended up being a whole lot worse. Color-changing eyes? The girls were going to love him. "Are you kidding?" Roger exclaimed. "This is great. There's no windows in the dorms. We'll know what to wear without sending someone upstairs in their skivvies."

"Told you," Brian said. He smiled, laying a hand on John's shoulder. But John didn't look particularly relieved. He had that same sick, pale look that he had on the stairs. Or, the same look Roger imagined he would have, if Roger could have pictured anything at that point in time. In any case, he looked now how he sounded then, and that was kind of sad. "Hey, Bri?" Roger said. "Can I talk to John for a bit?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's fine. Glad you're up, Roger. I'll have your homework waiting for you when you get out of here." He winked as Roger groaned, before shouldering his bag.

"He knows I hate homework," Roger said, once Brian was gone. "Your wrist looks okay." "Oh, yeah. They fixed it up here really quick," John said, turning it over a couple times. He sat on the bed, shoulders slumping. "Thanks, by the way... For taking the fall for me. While I was up here, I heard Salwix talking to your Council. I'm sure if they knew I cursed you, I would have been expelled."

"It's not that bad! Is it?" Roger held up the mirror again, poking at the dark smudges under his eyes. Eh, he could make it work. They really brought out the color, honestly, even if that color was purple. "We gotta find out what the other colors are. Think you can make it stop raining?"

"...Yes." John said. "I mean, yes, it's bad. No, I can't make it stop raining. Do you take anything seriously? I cursed you, Roger. Forever. What if it'd been worse?"

Roger lowered the mirror. The poor second-year looked like he was about to cry. "My mum says 'if' is a big word."

"It's two letters."

"Yeah, but you can't dwell on it, you know? If you start thinking of all the 'what ifs,' then you never live now. What are you worried about? That you'd be able to do some weird death magic?"

John didn't say anything.

Honestly, Roger always did have a healthy fear of the Vexxzus View. Some, like John, crushed beetles to gain a burst of magic power, but he'd seen others take the lives of mice or birds. Killing was a strange, gruesome, macabre focus, unlike the much more sensible imbuing of magic into a wand or gem--like a sensible human.

Furthermore, the View possessed an air of secrecy and mystery, even among its own members. No one knew how far the magic could go. What it could do. Everyone else in Vale Rest just assumed the Vexxzuses pursued murder as their ultimate goal. Why else would you choose...

But John said he hadn't chosen it.

Roger sighed. "Look, I don't know you very well, but everything I need to know about you, I've learned since our duel. S'far as I can tell, you wouldn't be able to do it." When John looked affronted, Roger clarified. "That's a good thing! No one should be able to invent a killing word, and those who'd do it are bad people. And... and even if you could... Even if you knew some death spell, you wouldn't have done it anyway. You wanted to teach me a lesson. You didn't want to kill me." Roger paused, then added, "Did you?"

"No! Of course not!" As soon as John said the words, realization dawned, and he relaxed. "No. I never want that. Still. I think what I did to you... It's the worst curse I know of. And I shouldn't have been able to do it. I mean, most adults can't do it. It is still under development, after all. It just doesn't work right... But it's not the words. I've read about it, you see. A little. It must be the pronunciation. It's not at all natural. The words--they say they're ancient..."

"Like... Old god ancient?"

"Maybe," John wondered. "And it'd be easier with a wand, like you have in Oerris. There's a... A motion to it."

"I thought you said you didn't read much about it."

John's academic fixation fizzled, and he slumped. "I pick things up."

Roger muttered to himself, throwing his feet over the side of the bed. Looking through the drawers in his nightstand, he finally found his focus--a rosewood wand, carved in the shape of a panda eating bamboo. He held it out to John, who wrinkled his nose.

"Yes, yes," Roger said. "Stick-wavers and such. I've heard it all. It's a valid implement for magic!"

"Mm-hm," John conceded, taking the wand and holding it between his fingers, as if it were filth. "I told you, I can't. Most people who can do Vexxzus magic can't. Except Brian, I guess."

Undeterred, Roger reached for the nearly spent candle next to him, and puffed out the flame. "Light it. It's the easiest spell we know. You said you pick things up, right? Maybe a different View? One that's not so deathy?"

"I can't--"

"Try!"

"No!"

John pressed the wand back into Roger's hand. "No. It's--It's not..."

He pressed his lips together, eyes focused downward at his own hands.

"All right, all right," Roger said, tapping the wand to the candle's wick and setting it alight again. "I just thought--"

John vigorously shook his head. "Sorry."

Interesting.

Roger set the candle back on the nightstand, and leaned back on his pillow. Despite having slept for a week, he still felt incredibly tired. Maybe being cursed sapped all your energy, too. Honestly, the thought that it could have been worse was pretty frightening, and maybe he'd think about how lucky he was later when it all caught up with him. Maybe he'd talk about that with Brian, though, since John seemed awfully traumatized by the whole thing. He certainly didn't seem like the stereotypical mean-spirited, borderline-evil Vexxzus everyone talked about.

"Hey, John? Why'd we start fighting, anyway?"

"You don't remember?"

Roger thought for a moment. He really didn't.

Clearly uncomfortable, John shifted, appearing much smaller. His brows lowered, but he looked hurt more than angry. "You... You charmed all the words in all my books to be the same color as the pages. I'd bought new books before I realized what you did."

"Oh yeah! Yeah, I remember now." He chuckled. "You were so pissed. I never heard a first-year say those words before." John reddened, looking away. It wasn't just the incident with the books, though, Roger realized, with a rare stab of guilt. Because after that, there was the hair-color-changing incident. And the sweater-unraveling incident. And many other incidents that seemed entirely minor and extremely funny, until Roger added them all up and realized... He'd been harassing the shy kid. The quiet one who just wanted to stay out of the way. Who didn't want to bother anyone.

Because John was a Vexxzus, and so very easy to harass. The whole time, Roger felt like a hero.

It was no wonder John had been so angry by the time they got to dueling. "Oh. Damn. I mean, you have such a bad temper... It was like, ah... throwing water balloons at a bear. Hilarious, 'til it... rips out your spleen or something. Brian did tell me to leave you alone. I guess after all that, I deserved--"

"Don't say you deserved it," John interrupted. "I was scared you'd never see again. I was scared I could have killed you. That's a lot worse."

Roger always prided himself on being the easy-going, laid-back guy who everyone thought was a complete idiot. He liked to make people laugh. And he did! Of course, it meant he was a bully, which wasn't ever what he intended. And he'd driven a nice kid to cast a horrible curse. Of course Roger deserved what he got. "I'm sorry, John. I really am."

"Yeah, well, if we're going to be friends, can you maybe do that a little less often? The bear-harassing, I mean." Friends? Friends? Roger knew his face must be lit up like a Christmas tree. He didn't care, though. "You? And a stick-waving Oerris? This is so cool." He used the springiness of the horrible hospital mattress to propel himself forward, knocking John's bag to the floor, so he could wrap his arms around his new Vexxzus best friend forever. "Ain't no one messin' with me now," he said.

John tried everything to pry him away, finally gave up, and said, "You're going to have to stop hugging me at some point."

"That's a lie," Roger replied.

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #brian may #john deacon #freddie mercury #fantasy #fantasy au #reversed #ck writes #not bestiary

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my-happy-little-bean · 4 years

Text

Blossom

pairings: logan/patton (logicality) (because im trash) words: 2776 warnings: swearing, panic attack, implied toxic parental relationship, mention of an implied suicide attempt, fighting summary:

blos·som /ˈbläsəm/

verb - to produce flowers or masses of flowers. - to develop in a promising way

Or: the five times Logan couldn’t see the flowers, and the one time he did.

a/n- hello! i hope you are all doing well during this strange quaran-time! i present to you, my first non-golden slumbers flower-related fic (still logicality tho,,, y'all can rip that pairing out of my dead, cold hands :pp). i had a really strange dream last night that had something to do with this concept and hey, you know what i do with dreams :p

i hope you enjoy it ^v^

read on ao3~

---------

dedicated to the one bit of starlight that always remembers to water my garden

~*~

Logan was halfway up the porch stairs when Patton mentioned the flowers for the first time.

“I’m telling you, Lo!” Patton followed Logan into their new house, carrying boxes behind him. “They were little yellow daffodils, just sprouting behind you as you walked! It was so pretty!”

“Patton, it takes twelve to fifteen weeks for daffodils to bloom after chilling,” Logan said pointedly, setting his own boxes down by an old, tattered couch in the living room. “Besides, even if there were some growing, I would be more concerned that there is something prompting growth underneath our house.”

Patton giggled, putting his boxes down beside Logan’s. He wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist from the back, going on the tips of his toes to kiss the back of his neck.

“Our home,” he murmured in Logan’s skin. Logan smiled.

“Yes,” he said, looking around at their surroundings. “It is...a start.”

“It’ll be more than that soon enough!” Patton chirped, taking Logan’s hand and spinning himself underneath it with a squeal. Logan couldn’t help smile, moving his arm more purposefully to properly spin Patton around until he was standing right in front of him.

“I’m so happy,” Patton said with a sigh and that lopsided smile; the smile that proved to Logan that he could at least feel love.

“I am happy that you are happy, dear.” He pressed his forehead against Patton’s and kissed his nose lightly. “Now, we must continue on, or we will be late to the neighbourhood barbeque Janene invited us to.”

“Janene?”

“Our neighbour, remember?”

Patton made a small ‘ah’ noise and nodded enthusiastically, already skipping past Logan to grab some more boxes outside.

As he watched him go, Logan sighed; he could definitely love. He could love with all of the love the world had to offer him, for as long as they were offering. He could love the softest, most gentle creature he knew; one who moved with such grace and one whose mind and heart and soul was overwhelmingly admirable.

Yes, he could love him.

And he loved him.

“Logan! There’s pink roses on our roof!”

---------

According to Janene, the whole neighbourhood could see the flowers.

It was a special kind of phenomenon that no one outside the small town of Khloris ever noticed. But if you had a house on its terrain, you apparently had flowers growing underneath your feet. Upon mentioning Patton’s observations at the neighbourhood barbeque, Janene had explained the rumours that it was the land’s way of “observing” or “understanding” its habitants. Whatever that meant.

Logan found it borderline infuriating that no one had pursued further research on the matter; that people just walked around their neighbourhoods, complimenting each others’ seemingly magical gardens.

What was even more infuriating was that everyone just...accepted it. Embraced it, even. As if it was normal to hallucinate flowers growing on vines across your windows.

He was still unable to see these flowers, if they even existed. And while he wasn’t keen on keeping a sense of distrust between himself and his partner (he would have stopped playing along if Patton shared his same view) he couldn’t help but remain skeptical.

(He would never admit it to Patton, but the reason he had purchased that rather expensive machine off of Amazon was so he could test the contents of the air in certain areas of the town. It didn’t prove anything abnormal, but it was an interesting experiment.

He read his findings out loud to Patton one night, and Patton listened to every word.

And when Logan left for work the next morning, Patton complimented the chrysanthemums trailing behind him.)

Still, he didn’t have much choice other than to embrace the absurdity floating in their town. Besides, it was mostly harmless. And, more often than not, it served as the backdrop to some of the most joyful moments they had.

“Why, yellow!” Patton exclaimed as he greeted Logan on the steps to their house. “Someone has an extra poppy in their step today, huh?”

“First of all, I believe you mean ‘hello’; the standard greeting which is first exchanged between individuals seeing each other,” Logan hummed. Then, he leaned over to kiss Patton’s cheek. “Second of all...hello, dearest.”

“Hiya!” Patton giggled. Logan watched as the spot he kissed flushed a soft shade of pink. “How was work?”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. “It was...very satisfactory.”

“Very satisfactory?” Patton rocked back and forth on the heels of his feet, immediately ecstatic. “Not just satisfactory?”

“Mhm.”

“Ooh that and the yellow poppies behind you! You must have good news!” Patton beamed. “Come, come sit with me! Tell me all about your very satisfactory day!”

Usually, Logan would politely decline, telling him that he had to first shower and prepare dinner as he always did after work. And it was almost second-nature to ignore the ever-growing amount of flower observations from Patton.

But he couldn’t help but oblige upon seeing Patton rush over to their small, wooden porch swing, nearly knocking into his ball of yarn and newest knitting project. That and he did have good news. Very good news, in fact.

“Tell me about your day first,” Logan insisted as he sat down beside him, setting his briefcase at his feet. “I would rather celebrate a mutual achievement than selfishly intrude with my singular one.”

“Intrude?” Patton nudged him lightly. “Well, you’re not being int-rude if you do! So don’t worry about that kind of intrusion-confusion you’re on about, mister!”

“...did you eat the cookies Janene sent us?”

“Several.”

Logan shook his head. “She puts too much chocolate in those, you know. And those pastries surpass the recommended amount of sugar one should digest in a day.”

“I know! ”

Logan couldn’t help but laugh at how starry-eyed his Patton looked. Patton gently rocked the swing back and forth, then lifted his legs to sit cross-legged on the cushions once it gained enough momentum.

“Anyway, my day was alright!” Patton chirped. “Had a breakthrough with a client today! It’s been a slow couple of weeks, but I think things are looking up!”

“That is fantastic news, Patton.” Logan leaned his head against Patton’s shoulder, placing a hand on his thigh and smiling. “You’re doing an exceptional job.”

“Aw, Lo!” Patton giggled again. “You’re gonna make me grow peonies everywhere.”

Second-nature. Logan just chuckled.

“Now! We must celebrate you!” Patton lifted Logan’s head off his shoulder and held his hands into his own. “Tell me everything!”

A pause. Logan felt as if he too was holding his breath.

“Well, do you recall that promotion I recently inquired about at my work?”

Patton’s eyes widened.

“Shut up.”

Logan broke into a wide grin, finally exhaling as he nodded. Patton squealed, practically lunging at Logan to give him a tight hug.

“Shut up shut up shut uppp!!!”

“Do you...actually want me to–”

“No!” Patton gasped, pulling back to hold Logan in front of him by his shoulders. His grin almost hurt to look at. “Never ever ever shut up!”

“Then why did you–”

“I’m excited, you goofball!” Patton brushed the hair out of Logan’s eyes with a small giggle. “Besides, if I’m shushing anything, it’s the guilty feeling in your head that I can hear from a mile away.

(Fuck. He could love him forever.)

“Be proud of yourself, silly.” Patton wrapped Logan into another hug. Despite being shaken around so much, Logan couldn’t help but laugh. “Gosh, you deserve this so so much– I’m so proud of you.”

Logan’s breath hitched.

“You…”

Patton drew himself back ever-so-slightly, leaving a mere inch between him and Logan. He smiled.

“I’m always proud of you, Logan.” He kissed Logan’s nose, sending a rush of warmth throughout his entire being.

He then looked down at the spaces between each wooden plank of the porch and smiled.

“Peonies,” he whispered, resting his forehead against Logan’s. “I’m happy too, Lo. So so so happy.”

---------

“Patton, take a deep breath.”

“He–” Patton gasped, wrapping his arms around himself– “how– I can’t–”

“Patton.” Logan took the phone out of Patton’s hand and held them, squeezing gently. “Patton, let’s sit down, please–”

“Don’t touch me!“ Patton sobbed, pulling his hands back and covering his mouth. Tears rolled down his cheeks and over his hands. He began backing away from Logan. “It’s– I’m a– I’m–”

“Patton–”

“Fuck,” Patton choked out, stumbling past Logan and heading in the direction of their backyard. “I can’t– I need–”

Logan just nodded, carefully catching up to him and clearing out as much clutter as he could so Patton wouldn’t get hurt. He slid open their backyard door for Patton to rush through.

The cool, evening air hit Logan almost sharply, and he hoped that Patton could feel the same thing. He watched from a hesitant distance as Patton fell to his knees on their grass, folding into himself like a ball and clutching at each strand.

(He doesn’t need you to make this worse. "You don’t know how to feel, after all.”)

“Hey,” Logan finally said. He walked over to the grass and sat a comfortable distance away from Patton. “Is this enough space?”

Patton didn’t lift his head, but he nodded. Logan sighed.

“...What happens outside your workplace is not your responsibility.”

Patton let out a huge sob; one that felt like it echoed through the whole neighbourhood.

Fuck. Logan cleared his throat.

“Tell me about the flowers,” he blurted out. Patton lifted his head slightly.

“The–”

“The flowers,” Logan said again, even less sure of himself. “Tell me what they...what they look like to you right now.”

Patton let out a scratchy laugh. “You don’t believe in the stupid flowers.”

Logan’s heart broke.

(He didn’t, but he believed in him.)

“Tell me about them anyway,” he said insistently. “I assume they are in our presence, no?”

Patton sighed and, after seemingly deliberating his offer, sat up; his hands firmly gripping the grass they were sitting on. He looked around him, all spacey in that way that used to scare Logan. (It still does, but he at least knows enough about it that it’s not as worrisome.)

Finally, he spoke up.

“I– I see marigolds,” he whispered. “And– and yellow carnations.”

Logan closed his eyes in thought for a second and then opened them with a sigh.

“My dear,” he whispered, scooting a bit closer to him. “It is normal to feel grief and disappointment. Those are common reactions to a tragic occurrence such as this. I am so deeply sorry that you have to experience this because you do not deserve this, my starlight.”

Patton curled even more into himself.

“But what is important is that he is still here,” Logan continued. “And I am going to be here to assist you with whatever you need in order for you to cope during this difficult time.”

He watched as Patton took a deep breath; the first one in hours. When he exhaled, he felt as if the air around him grew still and less frigid.

“I already know with absolute certainty that I will witness you lift yourself up when we make it through this; stronger than you were ever before.” He moved closer to him again. “You did not fail, no – we are simply just trying again.”

A beat of silence. Patton sniffled. “T-There’s purple hyacinths now.”

Logan sadly smiled. A common one with Patton.

“You do not have to apologize.” He patted the space next to him. “I’m here. And so are you.”

Patton sobbed a bit more, but eventually smiled through his tears and curled up in Logan’s lap. Logan held Patton and leaned over to press a kiss in his hair.

“I got you,” he murmured in his curls. He felt Patton settle into his lap, the tenseness in his shoulders loosening. He ran his hands through his hair, kissing it again and again every few seconds.

“Forever?” He heard Patton mumble. He smiled.

“And a little bit after that,” he whispered back.

And they sat there for a while, underneath the starry skies above them, in what Logan assumed was a sea of yellow and purple flowers. Though, he was never really sure.

Later on, Patton asked him how he knew what each flower meant. And Logan, who would never admit to researching floriography (or to any accomplishment at all), just said it was a coincidence.

---------

Patton rarely got mad; but when he did, Logan could only assume there were petunias everywhere.

“You–”

“Patton, please, not today–”

“NO!” His voice bounced off the walls and hit Logan in the chest. He shut up immediately. “Just...please– please tell me you’re joking.”

Logan averted his glance. “...I had to speak with them.”

“With your parents?! “ Patton screamed. “Who– who haven’t even bothered to call you in the last, what, five years?! “

“Patton, I–”

“You promised you’d never talk to them again,” Patton hissed. “I thought we agreed that– that it’d be wrong to. Because they were miserable people– people who– who made you miserable.”

He stung more than any thorn ever could. Logan tried to imagine some growing through the floors, as if trying to sympathize with what he could be experiencing. Of course he was angry. What Logan did was stupid. And he didn’t even mention the outcome…

“They’re my parents, Patton,” he said instead. He tried to plant his feet to the floor firmly, but Patton’s pacing made him shrivel up where he stood.

“They are not your parents,” Patton snapped. His breathing was sharp and quick. “Parents– parents don’t just tell their kid that they don’t have the capacity to feel– parents don’t kick their kid out of their fucking house and– and abandon them and leave them to be fixed by someone else.”

Logan’s breath hitched.

“I…” He tried not to let it hurt him, but seeing Patton also wince at his own words made him feel somewhat validated in his pain. Still, he stood his ground.

“I did not ask you to fix me,” Logan whispered, just as sharply; as if to get him back.

Stupid.

“Logan.” Patton’s voice was even more troubling when it was quiet. “How could you...”

“It’s true.” (Why was he still talking?!) “I didn’t need you to–”

But he never finished.

Because that’s all it took for Patton to leave.

Patton found Logan outside in their backyard, surrounded by roses.

Roses of every colour; yellow, pink, blue, black, and white. The grass underneath his feet was bright green– in fact, everything around him was bright.

“L-Logan, what–”

And that was when he saw the ring.

“Patton.” It came out as a loud, choked sob.

Patton took a shaky step towards Logan, who shakily got on one knee.

“What are you…”

To his surprise, Logan laughed.

“We– we were never really good at appropriate timing, were we?”

Patton covered his mouth with wide eyes.

“I called my parents,” Logan began shakily, “because I wanted to tell them that I was going to marry you.”

Patton’s breath hitched.

“You were right,” he continued, wiping his eyes. “Parents don’t do any of the things you had mentioned a-and I know I broke that promise we made out of good intent but…” He sighed. “But they are my parents. And I wanted them to be part of this moment.”

He closed his eyes, almost shamefully.

“Ultimately, it was out of spite, wasn’t it?” He laughed quietly. “In the end, I just wanted to prove to them that I could.”

“C-Could what?”

Logan stood up from his place and smiled. “That I could feel.”

A wide grin spread across Patton’s face.

“Oh, Logan…” He sobbed, rushing over to hold Logan’s hands. He giggled as Logan’s glasses fogged up from him crying, and he reached over to take them off, opting to rest them lopsided on his head. Logan laughed again through his tears.

“Patton,” he whispered, looking up in his eyes. “I feel everything with you. I– I feel perfect, unadulterated happiness and love when I am with you. I feel joy, I feel peace, I feel...I feel things that I didn’t even know exist– ”

He held Patton’s hands and took a deep breath.

“I feel everything for– for you.” Logan rested his forehead against Patton’s and broke into laughter as their tears fell to the ground. “I want to feel everything with you– the ups, the downs, everything– for the rest of my life.”

---------

And as Patton kissed him, Logan watched as a rainbow of colours blossomed around their home.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #logan sanders #patton sanders #logan/patton #logicality #logic/morality #flower...AU?#idk what this is #but its sure as hell cute :p #gabbie writes things

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writingpuddle · 5 years

Note

The foxes and Andrew reacting to Neil with a British accent?

Hey anon im p sure you sent me this like a million years agobut I found it again when going thru my asks yesterday so here goes myattempt at a bulletpoint fic:

Neil grew up in the states, sohis default accent is American, but he is ridiculouslygood at imitating. Like give him a ten second audio clip and he canextrapolate basically an entire dialect from it

The Foxes discover this aroundHalloween when watching a spooky movie and Neil goes into a perfect deadpanmockery of the Dracula character’s terrible Transylvanian accent

It becomes a thing

The Foxes will give him an accentand just set him loose

Neil is kind of surprised bytheir enthusiasm but also secretly very pleased to have found a way to amusehis Foxes

He likes making them happy so henever denies them

Except Kevin, but that is mostlybecause the team gets more amusement from watching Kevin get frustrated and trynot to show how annoyed he is over Neil being such a petty little asshole

Also they discover that if Neilputs on an Irish accent when Kevin isn’t paying attention he will absolutelyJUMP

Give him an order in an Irishaccent and he just instantly starts to follow through before he wakes up,blinking in disorientation as he realizes what he was doing

It’s funny at first, then theyrealize it’s because he associates the accent with his mother, and then itskind of sad, and then Kevin starts telling more stories about his mum and someof the few good memories he has of her, and then it gets funny again because Foxesare Foxes and they do love a good roast

Kevin complains outwardly but itsactually kind of cathartic to talk about his mother

He tells Andrew this inconfidence and Andrew just glares at him like no shit dude, you need fuckingtherapy

Anyways

That summer is going to be thesummer of the girls graduation

So they’re all determined to dosomething big to celebrate

And they get it in their heads todo a Eurotrip

Neil isn’t really payingattention at first because he’s more concerned about whether Andrew will bewilling to do a transatlantic flight

(Andrew is obviously going tocome. Flights suck, but there is no way he can cope with his whole family beingthat far away. He does not feel the need to explain this. It should beobvious.)

That’s when the Foxes pause, alldevious.

They’ve been plotting

“So, Neil,” Allison says. “At what point are you going to introduce usto your British uncle?”

Neil does not see where this isgoing

In fact he is largely baffled bythe suggestion.

“You realize my uncle is agangster, right? Like, literally a crime boss. Possibly the most dangerousperson in Britain.”

“Mm-hmmmmm.”

Neil is ???

“But he saved you Neil,” Nicky says emphatically. “We need to thank him.”

“Uh, kind of by accident, butyeah, technically.”

“You should call him. Just toask. You know, at least give the guy some warning that you’ll be in the area.”

Neil is still kinda confused butokay, fine.

Now here’s the thing

The Foxes have heard any numberof accents from Neil by this point

Including a magnificent Godfatherimitation

And probably half a dozendifferent British ones

But those were always for the laughs

He always picked a terribleaccent or would mock the living hell out of a posh one

Neil isn’t used to being thefunny one so he’s trying his best okay

And it’s fun and all but Neil can’tbe seductive to save his life

Even if you made him speak theFrench, the language of love itself,he’d just sound like he’s talking about the next game because he has zeroflirtability

Face it his and Andrew’sflirting sounds kind of like death threats to outsiders

They deserve each other

SO the Foxes convince Neil tocall up his uncle and they huddle around the phone

Only to be utterly disappointed

Neil talks with Stuart for all ofa minute and a half, just normal voice

He hangs up and tells them thatStuart will meet them in London in May and that they’re going to get him inshit with the FBI for this

The Foxes retreat, mutteringmutinously

Andrew is well aware of what’sgoing on, but it’s halfway amusing so he doesn’t say anything

As the months pass the Foxesbecome increasingly desperate in their attempts to make Neil say something sexy

They make him quote movies, TVshows, read out flirty text messages

One memorable time they even gethim to read out a page from Fifty Shades of Grey in a stuck-up British accent

They almost die laughing

It’s like a fucking superpower

Neil can say absolutely anythingand make it come across totally non-sexual

The Foxes have pretty much givenup by the time the summer trip comes around

Neil spends the plane ridepretending not to fuss over Andrew so by the time he arrives he’s totallyexhausted

And here is what he didn’texpect:

He is totally used to listeningto the local accents and then blending in naturally

It’s very disorienting beingamong the Foxes and their various Americanism, but hearing British accents allaround him

And his instincts are snarled upin knots

Plus he’s fucking tired

So he keeps slipping

First it happens when they passthrough customs, just a little lilt to his voice to put the officer at ease

But then it keeps happening

Stuart sends a couple cars topick them up and take them to this massive place he owns right in centralLondon

Being a crimeboss comes withcertain perks okay

Neil slips up again when he’stalking to the driver, his accent washing back and forth

Everyone else isn’t really payingattention because as excited as they are about Neil’s accent they’re in London and they’re all exhausted and fora lot of them it’s the first time they’ve been outside of the States, ever

Andrew notices

But he doesn’t say anything

They get to the apartment andfind a note there from Stuart saying he’ll pick them up tomorrow for a tour

Everyone splits off into theirrooms to sleep

Neil falls into bed exhausted, but sleep doesn’t come

And Andrew knows this but is tooexhausted himself from the stress of flying to deal with it right away

So he just wraps an arm aroundNeil’s stomach and holds him there as he drifts off

And it’s not enough for Neil toreally relax but it’s enough to make him feel grounded

The next morning Stuart shows upand everyone blinks at him bleary eyed and suspicious

But he’s charming and most ofthem find it kinda disarming

Which is how the Foxes end up takingwhat is probably the most expensive tour they’ve ever had (Allison excepted),lead entirely by a crime boss

Neil is lagging behind a bit buteveryone is so caught up in it that they don’t really notice

Except Andrew

That boy is always attuned to Neil

So he drops back with him andthey have a brief intense staring contest which ends in Neil looking away

They’re standing in Trafalgarsquare watching some street performers so no one is listening

Neil is obviously chewing onsomething and Andrew waits him out

He would wait forever

Finally, Neil just says, “I’vebeen here before.”

Which isn’t much but Andrew’smemory has never failed him before

I couldn’t live there again. I couldn’t retrace my steps to any ofthose places

Andrew knows what its like to feelsick at things that other people would love

So he nods and stands next toNeil the whole day

Not quite touching but closeenough that they can feel each others gravity

At the end of the day Stuart andNeil have a very cordial goodbye and then Stuart leaves them back at theapartment

Everyone is gushing about how charismatiche is and Neil doesn’t bother to correct them

His uncle has always been a bitof a snake-charmer but at least he knows he’ll never hurt his Foxes

They’ve still got a few days inLondon and Stuart’s secured them tickets to an underground dungeon tour thingthat usually has months worth of waiting list

Neil’s a little leery of goinginto a dark underground space, but with his Foxes there he’s sure he’ll beFine™

The team breaks out drinks aftersupper but Neil doesn’t have the energy

(Honestly according to thistimeline they’ve been in London for twenty-four hours they should be jet-laggedto hell and back, but w/e)

So he retires to their room andAndrew follows him like he always will

He sits next to Neil on the bedand waits

God there’s so much fuckingpointed silence between these two dear lord guys learn to communicate

Eventually Neil sighs. “I thoughtit would be okay. With all of them here.”

Andrew mulls that over

He doesn’t know how to admit thatit bothers him too. Seeing Neil reverting back to old habits, trying to blendin like its second nature

But he knows Neil is here to stayso he just slips a hand around the back of Neil’s neck and tugs him in untiltheir foreheads touch, breathing in the same air

Gradually the tension eases outof Neil

“We can go home,” Andrew says

“No,” Neil says. “I want to stay.I want to learn how to…do all of this, as Neil.”

Andrew squeezes the back of hisneck one more time. “Okay.”

It’s a silent promise, one he’sbeen keeping for over a year now: that any time Neil drifts too far, Andrewwill keep him anchored.

Neil knows it and he can’t helpbut smile a little, watching Andrew’s hazel eyes disappear into the shadowbetween their faces.

“Yes or no?” he asks

Andrew draws back a little

“You’ve been dissociating allday.”

“I’m here now.”

Andrew scowls and let’s go ofhim, standing up to go dig out his pajamas from his luggage

Neil flops down on the bed andadmires the view while Andrew changes

(That’s a nice thing. Andrewbeing comfortable enough to change in front of him. Sure, he’s always partiallychanged out in the locker room, but in private it’s different. It’s more. And Andrew is willing to give thatto Neil.)

(It’s very nice.)

“Staring,” Andrew grunts

“Can you blame me?”

“Yes.”

Neil sits up again and tugs onthe front of Andrew’s shirt until he gives in and steps up close, betweenNeil’s legs

His hands go to Neil’s sideswithout conscious decision

“Nicky wants the genuine Europeexperience,” Neil murmurs, toying with Andrew’s hem. He still hasn’t been givenpermission to touch, so he doesn’t. “We’re going to be staying in hostels.Might be the last time we have a room to ourselves.”

Andrew bites down on a thousandimpulses, reflexes to shut Neil down, cuthim out

Instead he just kisses Neil, goodand slow, a reassurance that they’re there,they’re real, and that this isn’t going away

“Andrew—”

“Yes,” he says, and pushes Neilback onto the bed.

You know what happens next

They love each other deeply andprofoundly and all that but they also like each other’s butts ya know

So afterwards they get cleaned upand curl back up in bed to sleep

Andrew climbs over Neil andnearly knees him in the balls and Neil’s laughing a little and Andrew scowls inannoyance as Neil scoots closer

And with the most obnoxious chav accent that’s ever been heard says, “Any chance a bloke could get a bit of a snog before bed?”

It is quite possibly the worstthing Neil has ever said and Andrew does not hesitate in slapping a pillow overhis face to try and smother him

Neil is laughing his ass off andit devolves into some pretty stupid wrestling before Andrew gets Neil pinneddown, straddling his hips

“Bloody wanker,” Neil says, unable to contain his grin

“Shut the fuck up,” Andrew says,and kisses him so that he does.

#i dont think this is what you asked for but its what my brain spat out lol #anon #writing prompt #have i been sitting on this for months?#probably #aftg #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #accents #fic #my writing #Chav!Neil #the foxes go on vacation

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imjustverable · 5 years

Text

Bothersome Cuddles

Hey there everyone! Here’s the Ineffable husbands fic I promised. It might be a little sloppy because I’ve been in a sort of rut lately, but I’m happy with it regardless! I hope to put out more of my WIPs at a later date, but for now, I hope you can enjoy this little bit of fluff!

It's a rather gloomy day in Soho, London. Rain pours down in heavy waves, turning the streets into shallow rivers. Residents who are forced to walk home scramble along at a rapid pace; those who drive crawl around corners and through traffic, watching as the water is thrown up from beneath their tires. Anyone who doesn’t need to be out, isn’t. Thunder and lightning fill the sky, making the more uneducated person wonder if Heaven is having a rave party, with loud booming music and intense flashing lights; but of course, that's silly. Heaven doesn't throw rave parties. Or, any type of party really. Anything of that sort has always been Hell’s doing.

This is all besides the point, however. The point is, that a storm this bad has not hit since the day of the end of the world (that is, the end that never came). And although the more anxious resident might fear a flood, it really is only a storm.

Moving on to the corner of a usually bustling street, there rests a quiet bookshop, whose large windows supply a warm glimmer to the puddled walkway outside. But, although the lights are on, the sign on the door strictly reads 'closed'. This is because the owner of said bookshop, has absolutely no plans to offer shelter to any number of sopping wet humans, who would no doubt bring nothing but mold and torn pages to his fragile collection. No, no humans would not be entering the shop tonight. It holds shelter to only two inhabitants now; one demon-who had gotten himself rather drunk over the course of the past couple hours- and one angel- who was sitting peacefully, reading aloud to his partner.

Take note of the ‘was’.

"Aaaannngeeeelllll!"

Both entities had been- up until Crowley’s exclamation- lounging peacefully. The sudden call to attention causes Aziraphale to pause his reading; his eyes skimming over the top of his book to the sprawled out demon. Seeing nothing much amis, he silently returns to the words on the page.

"Aaaaanngeeeelll...Don- hick- don't g'norme A- hick- Angel..." Some small corner of Aziraphale wants to laugh at the uncontrollable hiccups punctuating Crowley's speech. Shoving that part of him into a dark corner, he instead quirks an eyebrow, tracking the clumsy man as he rolls off the couch, landing with a hefty 'thwump' on the floor. Very graceful.

"Having issues, are we my dear?"

"S…'s cold. M' cold Angel…"

"Cold? Crowley, how on earth can you be cold?" In his own opinion, Aziraphale actually thought it was quite toasty in the shop, "Perhaps you should sober up a bit dearest. You're quite out of it."

"M'not…I'ssss cold…" His words slurred beyond belief, the demon sits himself upright and looks towards the blonde, arms out-stretched, golden eyes pleading. “Cuddle me?”

At this point, Aziraphale can’t help but be a little shocked. As it is, Crowley had never outright asked to be held before. He never asked for any sort of affection really. If he ever wanted to be close to his angel, then he would simply seek him out and wrap around him from behind-- once, literally, having taken his snake form and noodled himself around Aziraphale’s stomach. That had been a particularly vicious winter, leaving the cold-blooded demon very desperate for warmth (and Aziraphale overwhelmed by the waves of love radiating off of his companion).

Looking at things from the other side, should the angel find himself longing for the demon's attention, he need only give Crowley a certain look. A look not dissimilar from the one he had given during when a paintball had stained his jacket; or during their time watching Shakespeare plays at the Globe Theatre. And as they move farther away from the apocalypse-that-wasn’t, the frequency of those looks continued to grow. For some reason, having the shop entirely to himself no longer holds the appeal it once did, meaning the redhead was never far off.

Keeping all this in mind, it should be known that the angel’s next response is formulated not with distaste towards the idea of cuddling. Rather, it is with the knowledge that the drunken man would be angry with himself later on- when he is of right mind- if he discovered that he’d been begging for attention.

“I will not indulge you while you’re drunk Crowley. Besides, I’m reading.”

“Aawwww, c’mon Azzy... Don’t be sssuch a- hic- a sssspoilssport. You know you looooove me.”

“His hiss is coming through. The dear boy really has drowned himself in alcohol, hasn’t he? I wonder if something has upset him? Also, Azzy? That’s new.” Aziraphale doesn’t voice these thoughts. Instead, he says aloud-

“I do love you dear. However, that has nothing to do with-Oh!”

He cuts off. Crowley had miracled behind him quite suddenly, throwing his long arms over the back of the couch and around Aziraphale’s neck. The poor angel can’t do anything about the blush creeping higher up his cheeks, nor the warmth flooding his chest, as the demon buries his face into the crook of his neck. Auburn hair tickles his cheek as he is nuzzled relentlessly, trapped in place by Crowley’s embrace.

“C-Crowley!” Aziraphale squeaks. This forward behavior is really starting to throw him off balance.

"Mmm...s'nice...waaarrmmmm Angel...my- hick- my ssssssoft Angel…” The ginger hisses sweetly into his ear, and the angel can’t help but melt into the sunny feeling that drowns the air.

"Oh…really now, you old serpent.." It was meant to be a playful reprimand, but came out in a wistful sigh.

See, everyone knows that angels have the ability to sense love when they’re in the vicinity of it. But what some may not realize is that love, to an angel, can present itself in a variety of ways. Most people know and imagine love as feeling cozy and comfortable. Like being wrapped in a hug: a big bear hug that may be just a bit too tight, but you really don’t mind because you really love the person who’s currently squeezing the air from your lungs. And in many cases, that is true. But love can also feel like a crisp autumn day; like the satisfying crunch of shedded leaves beneath strolling feet, and the lulling rustle of dry reeds in the wind. It can feel like stepping into an air conditioned building after being out in the sweltering heat; instantly refreshing, and something one wants to just lay down and embrace. Or, it can feel like a beautiful spring day, complete with clear puffy clouds, nature’s vibrant colors, and the perfect occasional breeze; it's a warmth so lovely that it can make the skin prickle, and is meant to be enjoyed until the very end.

That last sort is exactly what Aziraphale experiences every time Crowley is nearby. The demon's love is everything new and brilliant and unpredictably beautiful. It is those fault-less spring days, bringing hope to his angel's world after a miserable, unforgiving winter. Each tender whisper and gentle touch brings another bud of confidence into his garden. Every patient kiss and protective embrace allows those buds to sprout into the flowers of affection. Remarkable things, those flowers, always in the back of Aziraphale’s mind.

They’re there now as he glances briefly at his book, miracled onto the side table sometime during Crowley's onslaught of adoration. A few seconds pass...and then a small huff, paired with a loving smile.

"Very well then, you stubborn fiend. Come here.”

“Woo~!” At the resignation, Crowley jerks his head up and beams; before all but throwing himself over the back of the couch. Rather miraculously, he doesn’t land on the floor, but instead, tumbles perfectly so that his head is level with Aziraphale’s stomach, against which he chooses to rest his cheek. And like a child clinging to their favorite toy, his uncoordinated arms take to hugging his partner’s waist. “ L- hick- love my angel...love...love you! Y’r my angel.”

Loosening his grip, Crowley wiggles around a bit in a weak attempt to reposition himself, and eventually ends up lying across Aziraphale’s lap, dark glasses crooked on his face after the endeavor.

“You are mine...arn’t ya ‘Ziraphale?” Wide and dazed sunflower eyes gaze up at him with intense hope and fear. One hand tightly clutches the front of his blue plaid pajama top, as if the ginger is afraid he’ll fall if he lets go. His tension remains until Aziraphale nods and pushes back some fiery locks from his face.

"What a silly question...of course dear boy. Yours, forever and always."

The demon’s expression jumps from somber and worried to pure elation. His nose wrinkles in a cute fashion, eyes squinting as his smile splits across his face. Looking away from Aziraphale, he instead turns to stare up at the ceiling. His free hand balls into a fist, which he shakes victoriously at the sky.

“YA HEAR THAT GOD? HE’SSSSS MINE! CAN’T TAKE ‘IM BACK FROM ME!” Crowley shouts so loudly that a few strangling Londoners passing by the front door take pause for a moment, wondering if they should be concerned about the sound of a madman screaming inside a bookshop-- and then, in proper fashion, have their attention redirected to the rain, and hurry on their way. Poor Aziraphale, trapped as he is with Crowley on his lap, can only recoil slightly and press a silencing finger to his lips.

“Now now darling. Best to not challenge Her. Luck is upon us that She hasn’t smitten us already.”

“Oh I’m smitten alright!” Crowley throws his arms up into the air, and sings to an unknowable tune inside his head. “I’m smitten with you~”

The angel’s round cheeks pinken as he stares adoringly at his demon, who continues to hum along to whatever song is in his head. At this point, it's all he can do to not lie down with Crowley and kiss him senseless (that is, if he weren’t already madly drunk). He doesn’t, however, try to stop himself as he reaches out to comb his fingers through the wild red hair, noting how his lover instantaneously goes silent at the touch. The already loose-limbed man all but melts into the easy movement, eyes fluttering shut, lips parted in a breathless sigh. He shudders at the electric sensations trickling down his spine. By the time Aziraphale speaks again, Crowley is barely coherent enough to register his words.

“And I with you my dear. And I with you.”

***

(The next morning)

Sunlight, bright and beautiful and blinding, swarms through the many windows of an old bookshop seemingly frozen in time at a corner in Soho, London. Dust dances and sways in the golden rays to the song of the early morning birds.

The outside world sparkles under the appraising light of a new day’s sun, dew-coated grass glimmering as if each blade was laced with diamonds. Shop owners trudge sleepily through the doors of their establishments, just bringing to life the kitchens that will soon be crowded and bustling. Somewhere a church bell tolls...once...twice...then three, four, five times. All the humans still lost to their slumber only roll over in their covers.

Hidden away amongst shelves, sprawled out on a couch in a back room, an angel and a demon are in quite the same position. Seemingly dead to the world as they're wrapped in each others arms. The angel is trapped between the back cushions and his partner, whose upper half is curled up against his chest. Towheaded curls are left in a mess of stuck up, static-charged coils, their usual sense or order long lost.

The demon, with his head tucked under his angel's chin, takes in a deep, contented breath. He'd woken up once in the night, just to miracle away the major hangover wracking his system. In those few minutes, the events of the night had revealed themselves to him with a rushing clarity. A heavy blush had blossomed across his entire face as he looked down upon the angel, who had somehow ended up beneath him.

"...forever and always, eh Angel? Hmm...think I might just hold you to that one."

The fuzzy thought is to be the last thing he'll recall later on; as the two wake and spend several flustered minutes trying to explain themselves, before finally giving in to their emotions and spending a good portion of the day napping on the sofa.

#Good Omens #Ineffable Husbands #Aziraphale #Crowley #Fanfiction #Fluff #Domestic Fluff #Softie Crowley #Crowley's been drinking #And he's feeling drunk and insecure #And the boy #Just wants some loving reassurance #And its just a really sweet time #Oh #And God gets called out #Ineffable Idiots #I just really love these boys

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writingsofadream · 6 years

Text

Masterpiece | Part II

Pairing : Yoongi x Reader

Story : He’s looking for heartbreak and inspiration, and you’re just looking for a new laptop.

Set during the writing and recording period of Love Yourself: Tear. Involves angst, fluff, and smut. Multiple chapter series. 5.9k words in this part :)

♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬

Staring at the stranger beside you indignantly, you couldn’t help but show your surprise at his words. This earns a smirk from him, which you can’t decide if you love or hate.

“I’ll buy it for you, Y/N. If you’ll let me buy you a coffee too.” His words follow the smirk just as confidently, and you narrow your eyes suspiciously. The dingy store’s owner gives a low whistle of disbelief, seemingly just as confused as you were.

“What’s your name?” You demand, crossing your arms to close the open air between your body and his. His hard, no doubt fit body…he certainly wasn’t chubby like the blonde guy.

“Yoongi. Min Yoongi.” At this, he extends his long-fingered hand to you, waiting for you to slip yours into his. Swallowing, you reach out and grip it lightly. His hand is cold, and smooth. His skin seems to electrocute yours, and after a moment in his firm grip you wrench your hand back.

“And why exactly are you buying me a laptop, Mr Min Yoongi?” You arch an eyebrow, pulling your arms back into a somewhat stern cross again. It feels childish and no doubt looks it too, judging by the amusement dancing in his deep, dark eyes.

“Because I’d like to interview you, and paying you for your time seems only natural. Plus, I have the money for it.” He throws the last sentence out like an easy addition, shrugging his shoulders naturally.

“Yea, I noticed the ring.” You scoffed at this, unable to hold it back at how ridiculous it was to be smug but not show your wealth until someone asked. What a…snob?

His jaw hardens and a sliver of the amusement drops from his eyes. Whoops. He breathes in deeply before addressing you again. The words that come back out sound no longer lighthearted, but annoyed.

“Look, take it or not, I don’t care. Just make your mind up. Either I buy it for you and get that interview, or I can pay for it and walk away with it. I was here first.” His gaze is intent on you, and you feel your cheeks become hotter with embarrassment. How did you always manage to make yourself seem like a fool, you thought to yourself quietly. No wonder you’d been single for over a year; you didn’t give off good girlfriend vibes, whatever the fuck they were.

“I’ll take it.” The words are out of your mouth before you can properly consider it, and once they were out they sat in the cold air of the shop. A smile crept across Yoongi’s face, and then the shop owner broke the thick silence.

“So, Yoongs, I’ll ring it up?” Yoongi nods to the man, and peers at you as though inspecting you. Feeling as though you’re compelled to say something, you clear your throat and thank him. He shrugs again, as though buying strangers laptops was something he did all the time. You were certain it wasn’t. Somehow, between his dark clothes, demeanour, and his steeled gaze, you didn’t pick him for the type of guy to hand out MacBooks like Oprah.

“Where are we having coffee?” You direct towards his shoulder, as he faces the machine to swipe his Platinum credit card. Without glancing back at you he answers, throwing the words over his shoulder in your general direction.

“Wherever you want, Y/N. My shout.” The last two words come out with a wink, and he tugs his card from the machine and faces you once again.

“Here you are, Y/N. I’m Chaen, by the way.” The store’s owner hands you the bag with your new laptop in it, a grin on his face though still obviously a little confused. Thanking him and promising to come back next time you needed anything electrical, you took the bag from his hands and made your way out of the store. Yoongi followed behind you, shaking the man’s hand as though they were good friends. Grabbing your raincoat from the stand, you pushed the heavy door open into the small alleyway. Noting the rain had stopped, you shoved it into the bag with the MacBook box. It was still overcast and chilly, so you were thankful for the warm jumper you’d been smart enough to pick out. Whipping around, you faced Yoongi and bit your lip. Where should you two even go? He seemed to be thinking the same thing as he stared at you, clearly waiting for you to voice your decision.

“The cat cafe.” Pleased with your decision, you attempt to throw a friendly smile his way, only to be met with a bemused one.

“A cat cafe?” He laughs. “I could’ve guessed, Y/N.”

___

Why had he invited her? Well, he supposed, she was as good as any person to ask. A pretty girl like her? Surely she’s had her heart broken by some obnoxious jock at least once in her lifetime. And if he wasn’t any good at the questions, it was only a loss of a few thousand won that he wouldn’t miss. Plus, he would know not to do any more of them. That’s what this is then, he decided. An experiment.

She sits across from him, a white and brown kitten on her lap. Sinking into her oversized lilac jumper, the kitten seems to be falling asleep, much to her delight. Looking down at the little animal and stroking its small ears with her delicate fingers, Yoongi feels something tighten in his chest. A strand of her hair falls into her eyes and she tucks the unruly piece back behind her ear. Looking up, she meets his eyes and he coughs in a not-so-subtle attempt to hide his blatant staring.

“So, what’s this interview anyway?” Her voice is pretty and light, and Yoongi thinks for a second before answering. He has to be careful with what he says, especially since she seems unaware of who he is. She’d been a little confused at being ushered to the back and tucked away in a little booth - luckily he’d managed to convince her the rest of the cafe was too loud to record properly.

“It’s for a project I’m doing. On heartbreak.” She cocks her head and furrows her brow a little at this.

“Oh…and they’ll just be a few questions, then?” Yoongi nods at her question, perhaps a little too enthusiastically as she scoots herself and the kitten towards the window. Shuffling over so she’s directly facing him again, he tries to set her mind at ease.

“I just need reliable answers and it won’t take that long. I promise.” She seems convinced, or just like she’s giving up. Settling back into the plush of the booth, she sighs and closes her eyes for a moment. Yoongi watches her, enthralled by the way her delicate collarbones peak out from the top of her jumper. She opens her eyes again, and his own jump back up to her face.

Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans he pulls out his phone, opening the recording app and setting it in between them. Pressing the record button, he starts.

“So, Y/N, have you ever had your heart broken?”

He’s pulled his hoodie back, and you can see now that his hair is black and makes him even more fucking handsome. His question is calm and controlled as he watches you from across the small booth’s table. Nervously stroking the kitten in your lap, you paused before answering.

“No.” He doesn’t seem pleased by your answer, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his seat. As he does, his hands lay out on the table and his jumper is pulled up. Sitting on his wrist shines a Rolex, brand-new and gleaming. You instantly reach out to touch it, stopping yourself just before making contact.

“Is that a Rolex?” You ask, eyes wide. You hadn’t actually ever seen one in real life before, and no one you knew owned one, that was for sure. In fact, you weren’t entirely sure anyone bought them other than celebrities and business men with too much time on their hands…or rather, wrists. Definitely not dark, brooding guys like the one sitting across from you.

“Yea, it’s a Rolex. Says so on the face.” His smart-ass comment and smirk annoys you, and you pull your hand back quickly. He definitely was fond of smirking, you’d give him that. Frustratingly, it made him even more attractive.

“I can read.” Your retort sounds stupid as it leaves your mouth, and you regret it instantly. Hurriedly, you switch the conversation back to what it’s supposed to be about.

“Why heartbreak?” Your question seems to puzzle him, and his eyes leave yours to look out the window into the pouring rain. Outside, the trees swayed heavily with the weight of the wind, Seoul’s streets a mix of green, grey, and various lights shining through the haze. It was beautiful.

“Why not?” He’s turned his attention back to you now, resting his chin in his pale hand. It framed his face, and for a spilt second you wondered what they’d look like around your neck. Shaking the image from your mind, you motioned for him to explain.

“Love is a difficult emotion. That’s all.” He brushes it off nonchalantly, then turns the questioning back around.

“What do you do for a living? Between school, that is.” His question doesn’t seem to have anything to do with his chosen topic, but you answer it anyway. Lucky for him, you’re starting to feel a little more comfortable in the warm cafe. The kitten on your lap purrs softly, the hot hazelnut mocha relaxing you.

“I work at a cafe. It’s a little quaint, but it’s okay. It’s the best I can do for now.” Hoping he’ll leave your life at that, you open your mouth to speak but he beats you to it.

“Do you like working there?” His face seems genuine, and the question is natural enough. You shift slightly in your seat, and the kitten stirs.

“I do and I don’t. I guess it’s just one of those things.” The kitten bounces off your lap, and you pout a little as it prances across the cafe to a couple walking in from the rain.

“One of those things?” He really won’t give up, will he? You look down into your coffee, bringing it up to your lips for a quick reassuring sip.

“Yea. Life. Have to get money somehow.” He sips his coffee, which he took black, unsurprisingly. Setting it back on the wooden table, he licks the drink from his lips. You instinctively stare at his mouth, the way his tongue darts across the soft pink. Feeling a familiar warmth in your crotch, you bring your eyes swiftly back down to the brown beverage in your hands.

“I love what I do. Do you want to see?” You peer up at him. What the fuck? That probably wasn’t safe, right? Then again, you couldn’t help but be intrigued by his proposition. Besides, you had nothing better to do, and the man did buy you a MacBook.

“We can continue the interview there, if you like.” Your answer is greeted by a gummy smile, and he suddenly looks soft and inviting. Just as quickly as it appeared, though, it’s snatched away as he brings his mouth back to a smug, subtle smile.

“Cool. I’ll call a taxi.”

Why was he bringing her back to his studio? He had no fucking clue. As he paid the taxi driver and stepped out into the rain, he pulled his hoodie back onto his head. She reached into the MacBook bag for the scrunched-up raincoat, wrapping it around her body but leaving the hood down. Maybe she just didn’t care about how she looked, he thought, and the rain started to wet her hair. Grabbing her arm, he tugs her into the building. Unmarked, BigHit logos are nowhere to be seen. The company had agreed to keep it clear of anything that would bring attention to the building that held all their personal studios; that way they could work in peace, without the incessant fans and management. Keying in his personal code, the door swung open. The lobby inside was marble and modern, and he heard her gasp at the presentation of it. He hated it, to be honest. It felt cold and uninviting, though ironically people said the same about him.

Walking up to the elevator, he pressed the button to his studio’s floor. In fact, all the boys’ studios were on the same floor. It was a big fucking floor.

The silence in the elevator was palpable, but Yoongi simply felt like he didn’t know what to say. She was chewing her plump bottom lip, and between her slightly damp hair and delicate features he felt stumped on what to say. Usually he never wanted to say much at all, but now he kinda longed to say something to her. It’d be great if he just knew what to say.

He wasn’t sure why he’d suggested it, like the cafe, but he definitely wanted to show her what he did. That much was clear. He liked her sense of humour, her way of putting things. She seemed almost…whimsical.

The ping of the elevator jerked him from his thoughts, and he pointed out into the extending hallway.

“Those are a lot of rooms. Which ones is yours?” She looks at him, eyes wide at the length and breadth of the expensive-looking way ahead.

“Follow me.” He sounds smooth and his pitch is normal, thank god. For a second he thought he’d choke on his words looking into her eyes. He wanted to fuck her, dammit.

Walking into the room was a stark contrast from the marbled floors and walls of the rest of the building. It was unlit, save the grey light of the late afternoon rain shining in from an open window on the end wall. There was a couch, big enough to double as a bed pushed against one of the walls. The rest of the room contained computers, a keyboard, microphones, and a whole array of other recording devices you couldn’t even begin to guess at. The monitors were massive, and when Yoongi shook the mouse the screens displayed various softwares, all seeming to do with music. He ran a hand through his hair, then turned back to look at you. He looked almost nervous, as if searching for your approval, and you felt that feeling in your stomach again. Lit up in the grey, rainy light and the soft white of the screens, he was so good looking you thought you might pass out right there and then. Instead, you felt arousal prick at your body. Fuck. Trying to push it away, you finally spoke.

“You’re a musician?” His shoulders relax, and he leans back against the desk on a rare spot that isn’t covered in sheet music and other scribbles of paper.

“And a producer. I’m in a group.” He points at the small couch underneath the window. “Wanna finish the heartbreak and shit interview?”

“I hope it doesn’t involve literal shit.” The joke is bad and poorly timed, and you cringe at the bluntness of it. “Sorry, my jokes are…well, shit.”Surprisingly, he bursts out laughing. You join him, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders as the two of you fill the air with the sound.

“Nah, no shit.” He walks over to the couch, clearly amused. Plunking down, he pulls his phone back out again. As you sit down next to him, you accidentally read the top message on his screen as he turns it on and goes to lock it. It’s from some guy named Namjoon, and the only words you made out were ‘tear’ ‘soon’ and something about dinner with the guys tonight. Interesting, you thought. So this Yoongi guy apparently has at least two friends, Chaen and this Namjoon. And who were the rest of the guys? Before you could think more on it, though, he turned to face you.

“Can I propose we do something else instead?” He looks nervous again, but this time his eyes are…fixed. He knows what he wants. His stare runs through your whole body, and you push back a little further away from him.

“What do you suggest?” Your voice is barely a whisper as his eyes cut through you, trailing down from your face over your breasts and down to your hands in your lap. Bringing them back up, he stares at you intently from his spot just a metre away.

“I want to fuck you.”

Yea, he’d just said it out loud. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. Looking at her, watching her, showing her something so intimate to him. Her stupid little joke, her loud and shameless laugh. He wanted to fuck her, plain and simple. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually had a good fuck. It had been some girl from another idol group, and she’d been tight and compliant but…not quite what he’d needed. He’d booty called her a few times, sure, but things had ended once she’d figured out he wasn’t looking for a relationship. Of course he wasn’t looking for a fucking relationship, why the fuck would he?

You froze at his request, realising he said it in all seriousness. Shifting on your butt, you tried to push a little further away from him but your back hit the wall instantly. He spoke again, less intensely this time.

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. It would just be sex, though. I’m not looking for anything, and don’t feel obliged because I paid for that laptop.” His words take a moment to sink in, you feel nothing but shock throughout your body. But then, something else creeps in. Those lingering feelings of attraction and lust all hit the critical points in your being. Basked in the grey of the rain, hearing it pour down outside, it mixes with the soft whirr of his computers and various electronics. Looking at Yoongi, wearing his black clothes with his black hair, his handsome face with a sensual expression. You couldn’t believe it. You were actually contemplating fucking him.

He seems unnerved by your silence, and moves back on the large couch.

“The back goes down and we can pull it out, so it’s like a bed. I sleep here sometimes.” His confession barely makes its way into your ears as you continually toss about his proposition. Over and over it whirls around in your head, but finally you start to think clearly. Why not? You hadn’t had sex in over a year, and this was one of the only days you hadn’t had class, study, or work in literally weeks. Why not take the opportunity, you thought.

Heart pounding in your chest, you bolted your body towards him, practically throwing yourself on top. Inches away from his face, you nodded fast before you could back out.

“Yes,” you heard yourself say, “I’ll fuck you.” There it was, that smirk of his. This time it was more implicit than the others, the presence of sex hiding behind it.

“Just this once.” You add with a rush at the end, just to make sure he doesn’t get any ideas. He turns his smirk into a grin, then brings his smooth hand up to cup your face. His long fingers take a disobedient strand of hair, tucking it back into place with a calculated slowness to it.

“Works for me.” He gives you a dark wink, then suddenly his hand is gone from behind your ear. Your skin feels hot where he’s touched it, and despite any reservations you had you felt your panties become a little wetter. Dammit. Your body was almost betraying you.

Standing, he started clicking something on the side of the bed. You stood too, realising he was pulling it out so it could become an even larger bed. So you could fuck.

Pushing you back with one arm, he grabbed the underside of the furniture and tugged hard. It pulled back from the wall, the back falling to become the top of a bed. Clicking the buttons back into place, he then reached up into a higher cupboard to pull pillows down. Throwing them down onto the plush now-bed, he also pulls down a single white sheet.

In an instant, his lips are on yours. Kissing you hard, he places his hands on your hips and pushes you down onto the bed in a rush. Bouncing against the soft mattress, you both shimmy up to the top. He pushes a pillow under your head, still feverishly kissing you. He nipped playfully at your bottom lip, his hands now exploring up under your jumper. You could taste the coffee on his tongue, in his mouth, and no doubt he was tasting your hazelnut mocha. As he ran his tongue across yours you gasped a little, and he smirked against your mouth. You felt as though your whole body was on fire, particularly the spot between your legs. It felt like a distant, yet all-too-familiar ache.

He shifted his hard body above you, moving his top half off your body. Pulling off his hoodie, he threw it to the side with abandon. Coming back down, he supported himself with his elbow beside your head. You bit your lip, expecting more hard and rough coffee kisses. Instead, he slipped a hand between your thighs, meeting the denim of your cuffed blue jeans. He groaned a little, closing his eyes for a split second before rubbing a little harder, hard enough to meet your pussy through the fabric. Suppressing a soft moan, you bit your lip a little harder, tasting a small amount of blood in your mouth. Pulling his hand from your jeans and between your thighs, Yoongi reaches up and pulls your bottom lip out from your teeth.

“Take off your jeans, now.” The ‘now’ is said like an order, and a shiver of anticipation runs through your core. He rolls off you, sitting next to you patiently.

“Hurry up, Y/N.” That one was definitely said like an order. Unbuttoning your jeans with shaky hands, you pulled them off your body without a second thought. Throwing them to join his hoodie, he suddenly brings his body back on top of yours.

“Good girl,” he whispers, hot breath in your ear tickling your senses. “You’re good at taking orders.” Fuck, his words ran from your ear straight down to your heat. His head comes back down, his lips pushing against yours again. Opening your mouth for him, the tip of his tongue curls around yours. Now, his free hand is running along your inner thigh, slowly making its way closer to your wetness. Each inch feels antagonising, and the closer he gets the more you feel as though you’ll explode without his touch.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” His order is directed into your mouth, and you murmur back quietly.

“Touch me.” You don’t have to elaborate; Yoongi gets the message. His long fingers start to rub you through the thin fabric of your panties, and you moan against his swollen and wet lips. Through half-lidded eyes he brings his mouth from yours, his lust-filled eyes staring right into yours. It sends a twitch through your whole body, and he presses harder with his fingers. The pleasure is intense but manageable, just hard enough to feel good but not hard enough. He’s teasing you.

“Press against me.” He utters the words so lowly you could almost swear you’d imagined them if you hadn’t seen his soft lips shape out the words. Every nerve in your body is electric, tingling. Rolling your hips, you push harder against his hands and he rolls his fingers less gently. The pressing feeling becomes more intense, and you whimper against his touch.

“You’re so fucking hot.” His words are said roughly, and he latches his mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck. He sucks hard on the skin, and you can’t hold back the deep moan that comes up from your throat. The sensation of his sucking paired with the rubbing friction of his fingers pushing your panties against your clit bring you close to the edge, and you know he can sense it. His mouth leaves your skin with an audible pop, and he looks down at his handiwork with a gleam in his dark eyes.

“That’s gonna leave a mark.” You press harder against his hand, getting closer and closer to your peak. Slowly, he runs his hand away from your soaked panties and back down your inner thigh, and you let out a dissatisfied grunt. Dropping your hips back down to the mattress, you hum against his ear.

“Not gonna let me cum?” You’re bold, but you don’t care. You catch his lobe in your mouth, running your tongue over it and around his piercings. You hear his sharp intake of breath through clenched teeth, and his hand hovers over your inner thigh. Without warning, he slaps it. Not hard, but hard enough for you to bring your mouth away and yelp softly. He chuckles, nuzzling into your neck a pressing down a kiss.

“Not yet, baby.” His words vibrate against you, and he lets his teeth graze over your new hickey. Already turning a dark shade of purple, it was very…him.

He starts kissing his way down your body, making his way to your collarbones before grabbing the end of your jumper and pulling it up your torso. Arching yourself against the bed you lifted your arms up, allowing him to pull the jumper from your body. Beating him to it, you reached under yourself and unclasped your bra, pulling it off your arms and throwing it off somewhere onto the floor. He started down at your breasts, looking mesmerised and hungry. That tantalising smirk returns to his lips, and he wastes no time in latching his lips to your right nipple. Rolling the hard bud around with his tongue, he flicks at it and pulls the other with his hand. They’re erect at his movements, and he runs his tongue over your breast moving down to your stomach. Kissing past your navel, he reaches the line of your panties and breathes out softly against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. Hooking his index fingers into the waistband of your panties, you feel the cold of his silver ring against your skin. He pulls the fabric down slowly, and you close your eyes to savour the moment. Slipping them over your feet, you hear them join the rest of the clothes on the wooden floor. Daring to peak your eyes open, you look at Yoongi perched on the edge of the bed, looking directly at your pussy. His mouth was open a little, his eyes hazy, and his breath was long and deep. He glanced up at you, and you started to shut your legs.

His hands instantly grab your thighs, pushing them back apart. He winks at you, and chuckles lightly at your sudden display of modesty.

He pushes you further up the bed, and you adjust the pillow under you. Between your legs, Yoongi brings his mouth closer and closer to your wet and waiting cunt. Then, he licks you.

The wetness of his tongue brushing against your clit softly brings a moan up through your lips, and you press against him a little harder. He obliges, softly licking longer strokes until he’s passing over your hole with each one. Sucking on your clit, he brushes a finger against your opening, holding your right thigh back with his other hand. He starts to suck harder, and you mewl in pleasure at the feeling spreading from your lower half.

He slips one, long finger in, reaching his knuckle then curling up inside you. As he swipes your g-spot, you grip the white sheet hard in your fists. Arching your back, you push your pussy closer to him, begging him to give you what you need. The bastard grins before sucking hard, so hard you clit sends shockwaves through your body at the sensation. Locking your thighs around his head, you start to pant and let out a whispered curse as you feel yourself reaching towards your climax.

He slips another long finger in, stretching you a little as you realise how much you’ve missed the feeling of sex. And this was already the best fucking sex you’d ever had.

Slamming and curling his fingers inside you, Yoongi sucks relentlessly against your swollen clit. Like a champagne cork popping from a cold, fresh bottle into the air, you cum hard around his fingers. Pushing back against the sheet, you can’t stop the heavy flow of moans that leave your mouth as he continues to suck you gently through your orgasm. Curling your toes, your eyes roll back a little as you let it completely take over your whole body. Every inch of you feel intense, electric, dangerous.

As you come down from your high, he pulls his lips from your pussy and withdraws his fingers. You feel empty without them, but exhausted from the experience. Looking at him, you see your juices glistening wetly around his mouth and on his chin, Swiping with the back of his hand, he wipes it off, giving you a cheeky grin and looking down at you heatedly.

“Get on your hands and knees.” His voice is breathless but commanding, sultry-sounding to your ears. His black jeans are tight, his cock obviously swelling against the rough material. Seeing you staring, he cocks his head to the side with a smile.

Without a word, he slowly undoes the top button of the jeans. The zipper follows, the noise crisp in the air. Your breathing is still heavy, and you lick your lips at the sight of his bulging cock pressing against his black Calvins. He slips the jeans down first, and they pool down at his knees. Then, he teases you with a knowing look and he tugs down his underwear, his dick bouncing out. Holy. Shit.

Remembering his order, you flipped yourself onto all fours, pushing a pillow under your elbows. Feeling nothing, you look back over your shoulder at Yoongi. He’s pulling his wallet out from the back pocket of his jeans, fishing a condom out of one of the compartments. Wishin a couple of heartbeats he chucks the wallet to the floor, ripping open the foiled packet. Staring, you felt yourself get even more turned on at the sight of him rolling it down his length, all the way to the base. Seeing you watching, he moved forward and grabbed your hips roughly, jolting you back. He slapped your ass, lightly.

“Can I slap your ass hard?” The question is new to you, something you’ve never really done with your exes. Without hesitating or thinking, you agree. You want it. You want it so fucking badly.

The slap to your ass stings, and you cry out a little but bounce back towards his cock. You hear the soft murmur of “fuck” escape his lips, and he smacks you again. This time is harder, enough to bring tears to the corners of your eyes. As if knowing this is enough, Yoongi runs himself along your soaked slit, making sure to rub over your abused clit. Grabbing the pillow hard, you push back against him in a desperate attempt to have him finally fill you.

Grabbing your ass cheeks and squeezing hard, he pulls your body back and buries himself in your pussy. Slamming in all the way to the hilt, you both exclaim loudly at the explicit feeling. You moan sensually, while he grunts deeply. He doesn’t take more than a second, knowing you can handle it, before he’s slamming in and out of you hard. The slapping sound of your bodies meeting fills the studio, matching your moans with each harsh thrust. Gripping your hips, his fingers dig into your flesh as you bounce against him.

“Holy…fuck” you manage to gasp out, your eyelids fluttering at the feelings rushing from your core. He takes a hand from your hip and grabs a handful of your hair instead, pulling you even further back. His pulling is light, and doesn’t hurt your skull, but it’s enough to encourage you to move back harder.

“I’m gonna fucking cum.” His words are said through gritted teeth, and you realise you’re closer to your second orgasm than you thought. Whispering “me too” into the thick air, you feel him drop your hair as he brings his hand down on your ass, slapping it harder than the previous ones. The mix of pleasure and pain brings you right over the edge, without him needing to even brush against your clit. Clenching around him, you cum, screaming your release. He reaches under you and grabs a handful of your tit as he finishes, banging in and out of your trembling pussy as it clenches him tight. He starts to slow as he rides out the end of his own orgasm, breathing heavily. His long breaths continue as he pulls out of you, hopping off the end of the bed. You feel a tinge of sadness at the loss, almost wanting him to have stayed in you; even if only for a few more minutes. Collapsing against the bed, you flip over exhaustedly and prop yourself up on your elbows. He pulls the condom off, scrunching his nose up at the feeling. You hold back a giggle at the his sigh of annoyance towards the rubbery mess. Throwing it in the bin, he makes his way back to the bed, watching you with a fondness you assumed could be accounted to the satisfying sex you’d just had. He rummaged through the clothes on the floor, bringing up your jumper and his underwear. Sliding them back on, he tosses you your jumper.

“Just in case you didn’t feel comfortable staying naked.” He gives you a crooked smile and you return it, pulling the warm jumper back over your skin. You feel sore, your pussy stretched and your butt burning a little from his punishing slaps. You feel good, really fucking good.

He crawls up into the bed, lying next to you on one of the extra pillows. You both slip under the sheet without a word, facing each other in the soft glow of grey floating in through the window.

“It’s still pouring rain.” You say, hearing the drops falling outside in a calming torrent.

“It is.” he says, smiling at you with softer, less harsh eyes.

“Tell me more about yourself, Y/N.” Smiling and rolling your eyes at his predictable request, you snuggled deeper into the blanket, still facing him.

Looking at the girl he had just fucked, with her messy hair, her jumper slipping off her shoulder, the blanket tousled around her body, and her head resting into the soft pillow while she told him about her frustrating housemate and workmate, Yoongi could only muster up three words to sum up his state of mind.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

134 notes · View notes

beesartandstuffs · 6 years

Text

Who Killed Markiplier: Shot in the Dark- Chapter 3, Part 3

(Guys. Guys. This is it. I’ve been waiting to write this part for months. I’m so pumped guys. That being said, THIS IS AN EXTREMELY CRUCIAL PART OF THE STORY SO IF YOURE NOT CAUGHT UP DO THAT FIRST. Here is the masterlist if you need it!

This is also a really long one (over 2000 words) so buckle up kiddos.

Spread the word everyone! Big things are happening!!)

Because I know Celine, I recognize that she's accusing me. Whether it's simply of being out of my league or of actually killing Mark, I'm not sure, but it doesn't really matter. The goal is to deflect the attention back to me. To turn the distrust on me.

And it's working.

"What makes you think you're qualified to be a detective anyway, missy?" Chef sneers. "You think reading big books and arguing with prissy boys in suits makes you able to crack a case yourself?"

I open my mouth to reply, but Benjamin speaks up too. "And if your wardrobe is any indication, keeping up appearances isn't much of a motivation either."

Abe is looking at me uncomfortably, chewing his lip. "I guess I might've been a bit… hasty. I didn't even consider that you might not have much field experience… I'm sorry, Bailey. I shouldn't have put this on you."

I look at the Colonel expectantly.

To my surprise, he's frowning, in… pity? As if he feels bad. Is he immune to Celine's influence?

A warm hand covers mine, easing the chill from the storm. Damien's. I hadn't even realized that I was bracing my hands on the table, as if I was about to stand in protest. Damien doesn't look at me, but his open display of support and pointed glare at his sister speaks volumes.

Celine suddenly smiles, appearing sheepish. "I'm sorry. I know today has been… hard. And I know you're only trying to help, like any of us."

Nods and apologetic murmurs drift around the table like spectres.

"That's why I need your help." Her voice is soothing, coaxing. This is for the good of everybody. This is our only shot. "We can figure out who killed Mark and what else is going on, once and for all. Together. Won't you give me a chance?"

I'm nodding before I realize what I'm doing. Damien looks at me in alarm, but I've already agreed.

Celine grins. "Perfect. Come with me."

She starts to stand, but Abe slams his hand on the table. "Hey, wait a minute!" he snaps. "We may have just met yesterday but Bailey and I have endured through thick and thin, and I'm not about to let you drag her off to her very likely death!" He jumps to his feet. "I won't stand for it!"

"W-well I trust Celine with all my heart!" The Colonel stands as well. "I don't see why anybody should doubt her!"

"What other choice do we have?" Benjamin says insistently. "If this is the only way to find out what happened to Master…"

"Gotta admit something's weird about all this," Chef mumbles.

Celine sighs. "If you want to stand watch outside, you may. But my work must not be interrupted."

The Detective laughed. "Oh, I'll keep watch, all right. I'll keep watch on every single one of you… even myself." His eye twitched. "...Especially myself."

I follow Celine to the stairs, but Damien beats me to it. He slams a hand on the railing to stop his sister's progress. "Celine, wait!"

She looks up at her brother. Her voice is soft when she speaks. "Yes, Damien?"

He searches her eyes, opening his mouth to speak but stammering. "I… are… are you alright?" Celine sighs and looks away but Damien moves to try to stay in her vision. "I know this… this news can't be sitting well with you."

She pushes past him and heads up the stairs. "I'm fine for now."

"I… er…" He looks at me, fumbling, near-panic in his eyes. I shake my head wordlessly, and his jaw clenches. He turns and darts up the stairs after Celine, calling after her. "B-but all this talk of the occult, I thought you had given that up, and… and Mark's dead! Wait!"

He catches her at the top of the stairs, his outstretched hand on her arm. "I just…" he swallows. "I didn't think you would get mixed up in all of this. Not after… everything."

Celine's posture stiffens, and she wrenches her arm from his grasp. I'm standing on the landing, one foot on the next step. I look between the two of them silently, ready to jump the final few steps to rescue Damien if needed.

"There is more to this world than you could ever hope to imagine, Damien," she snaps. "I just had my eyes open to a small portion of it."

She leaves, heading down the hall and into a dark room that I could have sworn wasn't there before. "Just be careful!" Damien calls after her, before sighing in defeat.

I move to follow Celine, but he catches my hand.

"Emma, wait," he says softly.

I stop, and look at him.

He's worrying his lip. "You be careful, too."im

His eyes flicker over my face, coming to rest more often than not on my mouth. I feel heat blooming up my neck, but I don't step away. Instead, I step forward, knee-to-knee with him. Damien's free hand comes up to rest on the back of my neck, pulling me closer automatically.

Here, alone with him at the top of the stairs, I don't resist.

The kiss is brief and soft. We both know we can't afford anything more than that.

Regardless, we pull away breathless and flushed, our eyes fluttering open wide.

I place my hand on his chest and feel his heart beating as hard as mine. He huffs a laugh, and I look up into his eyes, which have been clouded over with grief for so long I'm almost startled by the delight.

"We should do that again sometime," he says.

For the first time in a long time, I feel myself grin. "Absolutely."

That moment exists in a bubble of time, and too soon, far too soon, we must retreat to the real world. So we release, with lingering fingertips and longing looks. Each of us wishing we could stay in that moment forever, away from the tragedy and the heartache.

Celine is waiting for me in the dark room. I close the door behind me and sit across from her at the velvet-draped table. A crystal ball sits in the middle of the table, and I raise an eyebrow, looking up at her.

She's mirroring my expression. "You're close to Damien," she says. It's a statement, not a question.

I nod slowly. "And you're not."

She nods back, unoffended. "It's been a long time since we've spoken," she says quietly. "He… he doesn't understand a lot of things about me. About… us."

"Us, as in you and the Colonel?" She makes a startled sound, and I incline my head. "I've been watching how he looks at you. It wasn't hard to deduce."

In the privacy of this dark room and the company of a fellow woman, Celine turns transparent, her charm melting away and leaving a raw, trembling widow in its wake. I'm taken aback, but I sit still and let her speak. "Damien never figured it out," she whispers. Her hands toy with the talisman from before, working it between her fingers on the table. It's an upside-down star. "I think… I think he doesn't want to."

"Why did you leave?" I ask, as gently as I can muster. "Why didn't you just approach Mark and ask for a divorce?"

"Mark was… he was so sweet. He would have given me anything. He would have given me the world. He tried to, he… he gave me books. He said I would like them." She gives a little whimpering laugh. "I did. I did like them."

"Books about the occult."

"He understood me." She leans forward. "He… he wanted me to be happy."

"So why the Colonel?"

Her laugh is short and humorless. "It was always William. From the beginning. But then he… he left. For the war. So I moved on. But then he came back, and… we… saw each other sometimes."

I fold my hands on the table. I dread the answer to the question I'm about to ask. "Celine…" I bring my folded hands to my mouth, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. "… Why did you leave. Really."

When I open my eyes, she's sitting up straight, looking right at me. Her gaze has grown cold, but not cold like stone. Cold like a lake that is still not yet frozen yet, still wet and churning and angry, and could kill you if you dipped a toe in. "You know," she says quietly. Dangerously. "You know why."

I remember the crib in Mark's bedroom. Pastel blue. Untouched. Carefully and lovingly maintained.

"Mark always wanted children," she whispers. "But I didn't. I didn't want them to end up like…"

Like their father. I'm not sure why I know, or why it makes sense to me. But the look on Celine's face and the feeling in my gut tells me that her years living in this house were not always happy.

She takes a breath. Calming herself. "... There was no way the baby was his. I had to get away. If he found out that it wasn't his, that it was William's, he'd… "

My blood runs cold. "... Why are you telling me this?"

She pauses, as if wondering herself.

Then she smiles.

"Because it doesn't matter anymore," she says. "Mark is gone, and we can find out what happened. We can finally find out the true nature of this… fascinating place."

The true nature…?

"I didn't quite understand before. But now that my eyes are open… there are dark forces surrounding this manor. And I feel that that's been the case for a very long time."

My eyes fall to the crystal ball. I've never subscribed to such things, but the room is unnaturally warm, and the flickering of the candles are almost hypnotizing…

I drift.

Voices and images flicker in and out of my head.

I see Celine, Damien, Mark, the Colonel, young and happy, together…

I see myself, next to Damien. We hold a small child between us. Damien is murmuring a lullaby.

I hear cutlery clattering, gentle conversation. I catch a whiff of coffee and chocolate. I feel safe and warm.

There's blood. Someone is screaming. The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't quite place it… then I realize there's more than one voice.

Another voice calls out. It's aged, but strong, confident, wise. It overpowers the screams and leaves me feeling grounded. "It's been years," it drones. "I'm starting to run down, I'm afraid… "

"Emma!"

I startle awake. Celine glares at me. "Well?" she demands as I look around in a daze. "What did you see?"

I shake my head. "I didn't…"

"You saw something! I know you did!"

"Something… some old man. I don't remember, it's all jumbled…"

"An old man."

I look back at her. Her jaw is clenched. Her eyes are blazing. The force of her fury pushes me back in my chair.

Then I realized I am being pushed, harder and harder against the back of my chair by some unseen force. It compresses my chest and makes it hard to breathe.

"This was our only shot," Celine growls, rising to her feet. "This was our only chance to find out what truly happened. And all you have to show for it is… an old man?!"

My chair clatters to the ground as I'm slammed against the wall. "You were supposed to help," Celine cries. "You were supposed to be the one who finally helped!"

I can't breathe. My toes brush the ground, scrambling in a panic as I'm pushed further and further against the wall. I can barely move my arm but I manage to shove my hand in my pocket and retrieve my Derringer.

Celine is sobbing. My vision blurs, making the colors in the room shift and warp. Her outline becomes fragmented. "WHY DOESN'T ANYONE LISTEN?" she screams. The pounding in my head adds thrumming layers to her voice.

With tremendous effort, I raise my gun in both hands. I can't breathe and I'm seeing double, but she isn't that far away. It's an easy shot.

Too easy.

I see her eyes widen just before I fire.

Tag list: @mayor-damien-protection-squad @markired @cosmic--frappucino @blackaquokat @pleaseletthisjimbetaken @gravitykaz @jojored22@neverisadork @cherrybomb-jaguar @221biotchplease @gmcfyuffins @the-asexual-reaper @satansladydoor (If I’ve tagged you and you don’t want to be tagged, please tell me! Inversely, if you would like to be tagged in these, don’t be afraid to ask!)

#markiplier #who killed markiplier #damien #celine #the colonel #WKM Butler #WKM Chef #actor mark #WKM Abe #markiplier fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #DAEmmaBailey #WKM- shot in the dark

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wrestlewriting · 7 years

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Be Here Now, Pt. 1 [Adam Cole]

Title: Be Here Now, Part One of ? This is the sequel to Insolence. To read Insolence (which is recommended) here you go: Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve Characters: Adam Cole/Brenna(OC) Genre: Fluff. Angst. Romance. Length: 4,300 Warnings: Listen. We’ve all been around for a bit now. If I’m not cursing in a story, have I really written it? Summary/Inspo: Time to catch up with the babes! The winds of change are coming.

Be here now, no other place to be All the doubts that linger, just set them free And let good things happen And let the future come into each moment Like a rising sun Mason Jennings - Be Here Now

So I tagged those that asked to be, that are on my tag list, and that liked the first story. If you want to added or removed please let me know! :)

@running-ropes @chasingeverybreakingwave @thegenericluchadora @wrestlingnoob @alexahood21 @castielscamander @cosmicswimming @spine-buster @heelturn-timesten @crookedmoonsaultpunk @morgunsilver @wrasslin-rollins @imnobodiesbitch @morgancorbin @reigningambrollins @ryrybebe @bbmbabe @allhailthe-demonking @rebelfleur22 @alynevelludo2 @im-indestructible @heelstarla @sixdegreesofsamson @vixxyvampire @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @valeonmars @pjanina13 @spot-of-bother @bolieve-that @theelitevillian @sleeplessandcynical @nopeitsnat @wweismyguiltypleasure @superkixbaybay @thedeboniardevistation @bulletbaybay @msgem @karleedaniels27 @heeltothequeen

Backstage at Ring of Honor felt... different. It seemed that everyone was somehow aware of what tonight would bring.

Tonight was the third night of the annual ‘War of the Worlds’ event, which combined NJPW with ROH and there was never a dull moment to be had. But the vibe in the locker room felt more… electric, than usual. Something in the air spoke of change and progression and loss.

Brenna knew exactly why.

Adam had grown in ROH. He had started years ago in the company, had made a name for himself in the company, held titles in the company.

And now he was going to walk away from it all.

It was just a little over two months in this exact building where Adam and Brenna had decided to give their relationship a genuine go. And it was just a week less than that since their Las Vegas tryst. Things were going well, all considered. Surprisingly, they had found it easier than anticipated to meet up in each other’s cities when not on shows. Though of course locker rooms still provided their most common rendezvous spot.

After tonight, that would change. There were two more days, one more TV taping, that Adam was to be a part of ROH. This was his last ROH PPV. This was the last big one officially.

This was Adam’s last night in The Bullet Club.

“Hey, kid.” Brenna looked up from where she’d been zoned out looking at her phone, finding Christopher Daniels sitting down in the chair beside her.

“Hey,” she replied, pretending to click off her phone, even though it hadn’t even been on. Brenna uncrossed and then again crossed her legs, adjusting herself in the beige and black sleeveless color block dress.

“Hiding out?” he questioned.

“No, just waiting to be called upon to do my part tonight.”

“Yeah? Then why are you all the way back here?” Brenna looked around the area, noticing a few people at the distant end of the hallway moving about. She hadn’t really realized she’d placed herself in a less busy area of the arena, away from the locker rooms. When she’d left the downstairs level of locker rooms, she had just wandered a bit, until she found a place to sit down that was quiet.

“Wasn’t on purpose,” she insisted. “I’m just staying out of the way.”

“So…should I start sending birthday cards to Pennsylvania?”

“Not a chance,” Brenna stated with a roll of her eyes to which he laughed. “We’re just gonna keep doing what we do, and see where it all takes us.”

“Brenna Marlow, just going with the flow? You have changed,” Christopher teased. Immediately she punched him in the arm, scrunching up her face towards him. He sold the hit, rubbing his arm and laughing, which she tried not to smile at.

“With the year I’ve had, it was bound to happen,” she pointed out, and the joking nature faded away with her words. “Guess I had to learn the hard way I can’t always have control, and you can’t always plan for everything.”

“Yeah, but you can still plan enough,” he replied. “Don’t change too much on me, alright?”

“No promises,” Brenna smirked. With his own look towards her, he stood back up to leave. He reached out towards her hair, and she anticipated what he was going to do, throwing her arm up to block him and push him away. She did not want her side fishtail braid messed up. “Go be old somewhere else!”

“Mean,” Christopher declared. She blew him a kiss, and with a chuckle, he finally turned and left. Brenna watched him walk away for a moment before looking back down at her phone to check the time. It was just under a half hour to bell time, and she figured it was a good time for her to head back to the production area. Adam was a part of the pre-show meet and greet, along with the Bucks and Briscoes, so she knew she wouldn’t be seeing them just yet. She hoped everyone was getting along.

The last she’d seen of Adam tonight had been almost two hours ago when they’d had some dinner together, along with the Bucks and Marty. The conversation had steered clear of the plan for tonight, and Brenna knew the boys had done that for her benefit. Everyone was walking on eggshells around her, she could tell. Tonight was a big change for her as much as it was for Adam, and it seemed that everyone was still handling her a bit with fragile gloves.

Coming upon the production area behind the curtain, she slid up to stand beside Kevin and Ian. Conversation flowed easily, going over match listings for the night, any last minute changes, and segment plans.

When a hand came to rest lightly against the small of her back, she startled just a bit, causing the person to laugh lowly, and Ian and Kevin to smirk.

“Easy, Bren,” Adam’s voice soothed her. “Just me.”

“I hate when you fucking do that,” she reminded him, turning to give him a short glare as he stood beside her.

“Half of why I do it,” he admitted.

“You done with the signing?”

“I am. Gonna go down to the locker room and get ready with the guys. Just wanted to see you first,” Adam explained. Brenna could feel her cheeks warm a bit, not so much at his words, but at them being said in front of her colleagues, so casually. It was still a bit unfamiliar for her to have their relationship for all to see. She’d obviously never dated a coworker before, and it was a learning experience.

“Sounds like a plan,” she stated. “Try not to suck tonight.”

“I will do my very best,” he confirmed with a stiff nod of his head before a wide grin took over his face. When he leaned down to kiss her, she couldn’t help her own smile from forming after he broke away from her. “See you later.” Her response was to kiss him again.

“Later,” Brenna echoed as she moved a bit away from him, allowing him to leave. When she looked back at Ian and Kevin, she found Cary was also standing with them. All three had matching grins on their faces. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, fuck off, all of you.”

“What! It’s just nice to see you happy,” Kevin defended the three of them, Ian nodding.

“Let’s just focus on work, please?” Cary, thankfully, took her lead and began to explain to her about the opening segment that would be introducing the G1 special that NJPW was going to have in California.

Soon enough, the PPV started. The dark matches went well, and from there the show officially began. Brenna felt like she lost track of time as she sat to the side, watching match after match. Ian announced the matches for the first half of the night, which allowed her to actually enjoy some of the show.

And then it was the second to last match.

It was truly show time. Adam had requested that she be the one to be the announcer for his match. He said he wanted her to be a part of his night officially.

Brenna had to swallow to get rid of the catch in her throat as she announced his entrance into the arena.

Watching him walk down the ramp and aisle, all swagger and confidence, dressed in his standard leather jacket and wet hair, resonated with her.

Brenna spared a short glance at Adam as he made his way towards the ring, understanding he was far more focused on his opponent for the night, and the after-match plan. After sliding through the ropes, Brenna set the mic down on the commentary table and picked up her cell phone. She missed the way Adam looked at her as she walked away, waiting until he was standing on the edge of the ring to go back up the ramp. Her eyes remained head of herself as she walked into the back behind the staging, Adam’s music playing around her.

She didn’t pause while passing any of the workers or any of the locker room that were mingling around watching the monitors.

She didn’t notice the quick look Jay Briscoe gave her. Or the longer sympathetic gaze she got from The Young Bucks.

It wasn’t until she reached the back parking lot did Brenna finally feel like she could breathe again.

There was probably about 20 minutes until she would need to head back in. She knew the match was allotted around 15 minutes of action, and then about 5 minutes for post-match chaos, give or take. Brenna planned to spend all the possible minutes she could far away from the ring. It was maybe dumb to outsiders but she knew it was the only way she’d make it through the rest of the show.

As much as she wanted to be the supportive girlfriend, she couldn’t reconcile watching her boyfriend for all intents and purposes move on from such a huge part of his career, of their lives. It was bittersweet in so many ways, and she would rather not have her emotions on display for everyone to see.

The fact that she was in a back parking lot of an arena, hiding away, wasn’t lost on her either. Somehow back parking lots at arenas had become a common setting for moments in her life and relationship with Adam.

Brenna passed the time on her phone, looking at reactions on Twitter to the show so far, scrolling through Instagram mindlessly. It seemed like the minutes went by slowly, as she did everything in her power to focus elsewhere than what was going on in the building behind her.

When the time had ticked down far enough, she headed back in. As she walked closer to the main floor, she could tell based on the sounds that the match was over. Soon enough she heard Kenny’s voice loud and clear, which confused her because she knew he wasn’t present. By the time she came to the production area, having slowed her walk, she looked at a monitor to see Adam laid out in the ring.

The monitor she was looking at cut away to a video package promoting the next match, and she was thankful for that.

A minute later, Adam was walking back through the curtain, to the applause of the production team. Cary and he embraced, and she watched as words were whispered between them. Adam shook hands with and accepted words from a few of the other workers before his eyes came to her. She couldn’t pinpoint the emotion he was showing, but it was a lot.

“I have to get out there,” she stated, indicating with her head she meant the ring. “Glad you survived.”

“Another one down,” Adam confirmed. With a smile, Brenna put a hard kiss to his mouth and then quickly left the area.

One more match to announce and the night would be done.

It went by fast, with Daniels retaining his championship. As he walked passed her to go back up the ramp, he did, in fact, ruffle her hair up a bit.

“Jackass!” she shouted after him, causing many of the fans around her to laugh. As the fans started to clear out of the building, Brenna left the floor along with the announce team and other workers. When she got into the back, she was immediately surrounded by the chaos of packing up. After making sure her mic pack was secured away, she went down to her own dressing area to change out of her dress and heels.

And then, that’s where she stayed. She knew Adam would have post-show interviews, moments with the locker room to enjoy. It was important to her that he got time with “the boys”. She was going home with him, so she’d have her time then. But tonight was the end of an era for him, and she wanted him to take as much time as he wanted to enjoy it.

Brenna passed the time by taking off her show makeup, which was always thicker and tougher to get off. She packed up her bags, making sure nothing was forgotten. After dressing down into her sweatpants and a t-shirt, she sat down to play games on her phone.

“Hey! There you are.” Brenna lifted her eyes from her phone, taking in Adam’s appearance. He was back in jeans and a flannel, all traces of his wrestling persona gone

“Hey,” she replied, locking her phone, setting it beside herself on the empty folding chair. “You done for the night?”

“I am,” he confirmed, coming into the room, shutting the door behind himself, leaning back against it. “You alright?”

“Yep.” Adam’s eyebrows went up a bit at her quick response. “…tired.”

“Keep talkin’.” With each step he took further into the room, Brenna felt her emotions that she’d tried so hard to shove deep down, surfacing. As soon as Adam reached her, and moved her phone to sit in the other chair, she was entirely focused on keeping her breathing even. If she focused on that, she could control the rest of herself.

“Just…been a hell of a night,” she quietly stated.

“Did you watch?”

“No.” Brenna continued to look away, not wanting to see his face at her answer.

“…why not?”

“Didn’t want to.” She knew she was being aloof, and her reasons for hiding away in the back were probably somewhat childish, but she couldn’t help herself.

“We talked about this….”

They had. More than once, actually. More times than Brenna really remembered.

After the meeting in Florida a month ago, it had been discussed regularly between them. Sometimes in small anecdotes, sometimes at full-length. What would happen if Adam changed promotions, if he didn’t. How it could change his career, the pros and cons. The impact it would have on them, as a couple. If they could manage long-distance, or needed to be together more often than not.

Brenna could still remember the last conversation they’d had about it when she was at his place a couple weeks ago, sharing beers in the darkened living room at night.

“I talked to Kyle today.” Adam’s statement wasn’t necessarily out of the blue, but it was. They hadn’t been talking at the time about anything, instead watching the TV playing Conan O’Brien’s talk show.

“How’s he doing?”

“Says alright,” he replied. “He and Maddie sound like they’re gonna try to have a family soon.”

“Aw! Good on them,” Brenna stated, taking a sip from her bottle. “It’s gotta be nice with him home and all more than before.”

“Yea,” Adam agreed shortly. “He uh, he was telling me though that may be changing in a couple months though.”

“Oh?” Brenna quirked an eyebrow, looking over towards Adam. While she was curled into the arm of the couch, he was in the recliner a foot away beside her.

“Sounds like he’s thinking about going about some other avenues he hasn’t been down before.” Adam’s words were vague to the casual ear, but to Brenna, a tried and true wrestler, she knew exactly what he was saying.

“I’m not surprised,” she finally said, shrugging one shoulder. “Kyle’s kind of in the same boat as you. He’s done a fuck ton, and it’s only right he gets a chance to see what else is out there, see what kind of life he can make for himself. And especially if he and Maddie wanna have kids. That consistency will mean a lot.”

“…so what if I did the same?” Adam’s gaze moved to meet hers, his fingers trailing along his beer bottle.

“That’s your call,” Brenna replied. “I’ve said that for a while now. You need to do what you want. What you think will play out the best for you.”

“You do keep saying that,” he agreed. “But you…you matter too in this situation. And I want you to tell me, honestly, from your heart, what you want for us.”

“You’re crazy,” she deflected, both of them knowing she was doing just that.

“Bren….” With his gentle chastising, Brenna looked back towards the TV. She could feel his eyes still on her, however. “Baby, please, just…just tell me your…your ideal. What, uh, what you’d want to happen for us.”

“Whatever keeps us together regularly, at least our known version of regular,” Brenna answered, not looking towards him.

“If I have to move, will you work with me on that?”

She hoped he didn’t see the way her eyes closed tightly as she took in a sharp breath. It was a question she knew would come eventually, but she hadn’t anticipated it now.

“Adam….”

“No, I know that tone. No, Bren,” he declared. “Tell me, right now, up front, if I have to be gone more than I’m close, will you work with me on that?”

She didn’t know what to say. She knew he was referencing Florida without saying it, but it was all still so hypothetical.

Adam and she had come so, so far in a few months. Going from a confused hatred, to an understanding, to a supportive relationship. It was hard to say, at least for Brenna, what she wanted or expected. This was still very new, uncharted territory.

When Brenna had gotten in this relationship, it had been a risk for her. Letting go of her past, of her pain, it wasn’t easy. Trusting Adam, taking his history in stride, defending themselves against people she loved…. No one would call it an easy road. And just went she thought maybe things were smooth sailing, there had to be a hiccup in the plan. A big hiccup, at that.

That was life though, wasn’t it?

Adam was most certainly not renewing his ROH contract, while she was still expected to continue her ring duties and occasional wrestling. He had talks with others, possibilities, but nothing solid lined up. It was all hypothetical and day by day, and how could anyone plan with life like that?

“Can we just cross that bridge when we come to it?” she questioned, looking towards him from under her eyelashes. “God dude, we’ve barely settled into ourselves as it is.”

“People get married in less time than we’ve been together.”

“So you wanna get married?” Her eyes met his fully, as she lifted her eyebrows in challenge.

“OK, smart-ass, I get it,” Adam conceded, causing her to relax her face. “I just… we’ve worked too hard to get here, for me to fuck it up. I don’t want to fuck it up. We made a deal, no secrets, no hiding shit. I need you to be open with me on this.”

“I am being open,” she argued. “I want you to do what you want. What you think will make you happy. Just…I want you to think it all through for you and do that. I’ll be here. We’ll figure this out, whatever it is. We’ve figured it out so far. I think we can keep that up.”

“Why can’t you just tell me what you want?”

“I am!” Brenna responded with force. “I want you to be happy. To choose what you want. The rest of it, us, whatever, we can work on it, figure it out. I haven’t put in this much work, this much struggle, to just walk away from you for now.”

Adam didn’t say anything at first, allowing Brenna to move her gaze from him, taking a long drink from her beer as she did so.

“I’m not trying to argue with you,” he finally spoke, his tone soft. “I just… your opinion means a lot to me. It always has.”

“And I appreciate that,” she said. Chewing at her lip, she decided to give him somewhat what he was asking for.

“Do I think going into WWE is a crap shoot? Most certainly. You either get to do good there or you don’t. There’s no middle ground. It happens or it doesn’t. And you can’t predict that. It seems you can’t have a lot of control in it either. But, if that’s what you wanna try, if that’s what you’re up for, then I won’t tell you not to.

“And if instead you want to take time away from it all, and do random indie shows, and just kind of have a calm life like Kyle’s been doing, I’m here for that too. It’s not like I’m leaving California anytime soon. Whether I fly from there to here to see your or somewhere else, it can be arranged.”

Adam just nodded slightly, and Brenna turned back towards the TV, effectively ending the conversation. Her beer was empty a moment later.

Adam had stopped pestering her after that, realizing she wasn’t going to change her stance on the matter. This was his life, his career, and he had to do what he wanted and felt was best. She couldn’t stop him or influence him overtly. She had to support him and his dreams. Because for all she knew, his career might outlast their relationship.

But either way, she did want the best for him, wanted him to be happy with his choices for his life. Of course, that didn’t mean she loved what he had decided on.

“Sweetheart….”

“Don’t, Adam,” she replied, finally turning for her eyes to meet his. “Let’s just go. I don’t want to be driving too late.” Standing up, she went to reach for her phone where he’d set it. Adam took the opportunity to grab her hand in his, pulling her between his legs.

“Sit,” he ordered, tugging on her hand to bring her closer. With a sigh, Brenna followed his direction, setting herself on his leg, perpendicular to him. He let go of her hand, sliding his arm around her back, his fingertips resting on the skin of her hip just beneath her shirt.

Brenna leaned her head onto his shoulder, her eyes closing when he turned to kiss her forehead. His lips lingered there for a moment, his breath warm as it ghosted on her skin. For some reason, it was this action that made the tears start to prick at her eyes.

“I’m being stupid,” she mumbled.

“You’re being my girlfriend, or at the very least a good friend,” Adam argued. Brenna couldn’t help but smile slightly at his words. She blinked a few times rapidly, attempting to keep her tears contained.

“It’s just… it’s stupid,” she repeated, lamented. “It’s not like I’m not seeing you ever again. Obviously.”

“But it’s going to be maybe less, or take a lot more effort to do that.”

“This is just… this is how we met, ya know? And everything that’s gone on with us, I dunno. I guess without this stupid fucking company it wouldn’t have happened.”

“We have a lot of memories here.”

“And like, I know how much this place means to you. And I’m so proud of you and all you’ve done and to just walk away…I don’t know. I just want everything to be so great for you no matter what.”

“Again, you’re a really great girlfriend.”

“Stop validating my crazy,” she demanded, making him chuckle softly.

“You’re not crazy,” Adam countered. “I agree with you on all of this. So I guess if you’re crazy, then so am I.”

“I mean, that would explain why you’re with a girl who straight up decked you once,” Brenna conceded, trying to keep her smile hidden.

“Nice, baby. Thank you for that reminder,” he stated plainly. Brenna couldn’t help the giggle that came next, lifting her head from his shoulder so she was able to look at him. He too was smiling, his eyes gliding across her face, taking her in. “I’m kind of looking forward to having free time to be with you.”

“Me too.”

“We are very much planning a vacation.”

“Oh, we are?”

“We are,” Adam confirmed.

“And where are we going?”

“That part is up for discussion,” he replied. “But I’m thinking somewhere quiet, just us, where we can just… be.”

“I will not die in a cabin in the woods for you,” Brenna said seriously.

“Stop watching so many horror movies.”

“I can’t! I love them!”

“And then you have nightmares, and all these paranoid thoughts, that I have to deal with,” Adam reminded her.

“Oh, you can handle it just fine.” He looked at her for a moment before kissing her lips softly. Brenna reciprocated the action, bringing her hand up to his face, holding him close to her. They broke apart a moment later, remaining close, each of their breaths mingling warmly with the others.

“Let’s go,” Adam whispered. “Wanna be home with you.”

“No complaints here,” Brenna agreed. She stood up from him, going to grab her bags. Adam immediately took her suitcase, which she had learned to not comment on. He wanted to be helpful to her, and she had to swallow her protests and just let him.

“Hey, you remember two months ago when we were here?” Adam asked casually as they made their way through the hallways.

“Mmhmm,” Brenna murmured, wrapping her arms around his free one, walking beside him.

“We haven’t done too bad since then, huh?” He glanced over and down at her, a playful gleam to his eyes.

“Me and you.”

“Me and you,” Adam concurred. With a bashful smile, Brenna looked forward again as they headed towards the door to leave. It was uncertain what was going to be happening in the next few weeks, but it was nice to have Adam with her to figure it out.

Everything looks different now. All this time my head was down. He came along and showed me how to let go. I can’t remember where I’m from, All I know is who I’ve become. That our love has just begun like….

#adam cole fan fiction #adam cole fanfic #adam cole imagine #adam cole fan fic #adam cole #wrestling fan fiction #wrestling fanfic #wrestling imagine #wrestling fan fic #roh fanfic #roh fan fic #roh imagine #roh fan fiction

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thetiniestcicada · 7 years

Text

Early Morning Soup

Hi hi everyone, i am absolutely delighted to announce @jaggedarchetypes wrote a piece based on this comic and its?? so good??? and once again im absolutely at a loss for words & im so very touched oh my god?? please read it under the cut he captured the feeling so well!!!!

For one who felt so exhausted, actual rest sure seemed to allude Hanzo Shimada. Midnight had him tossing and turning, one AM had him pacing, two AM had him outside jogging and walking, and three AM had him resigned to the fate of another sleepless night. But at least, if not a relaxed mind, his exercise had worked up a sizable appetite.

By three fifteen, Hanzo was showered, and by three thirty he was glaring tiredly into a pot. He’d sampled his soup perhaps a dozen times, but the flavor stubbornly refused to be like the one of his childhood. So, Hanzo sent out a text. Then one more, just for good measure.

It was painfully likely Genji would be awake at this hour, considering that sleep wasn’t a thing that mostly-synthetic beings needed as much. And sure enough, immediately after the second, slightly rougher text, he received a response. He opened the app, and re-read his own messages first.

3:36 Hey how much dashi goes in miso again

3:38 Genji I know you are awake

Genji: 3:39 lol wat r u doing up @ 3am

Hanzo rolled his eyes, and began responding in kind, a sarcastic “What are yo” began by the time he got another, more cryptic message.

Genji: 3:39 Don’t move

Hanzo’s thumbs froze, and after a pause, one raised to rub at a bleary eye. What about miso necessitated standing still? But before the gears in his brain could turn too much further, a tapping, quick sound came from the nearby window. Open, of course, as Gibraltar rarely got too cold, even in the middle of the night. Hanzo recognized, from experience, the sound of someone approaching the window, and as he began to turn, the sight of his brother appeared. Glowing vaguely greenish, even through his thin grey shirt. Why did Genji even bother with clothes? In any case, Hanzo flinched away with a hoarse sound. He did not scream, he did not scream, he totally screamed at the sudden robot ninja in the window. Genji’s greeting of “What’s up bro”, of course, reverberated over the sound of Hanzo regaining his breath and asking, “Genji, what the shit?!”

Genji leaned onto the windowsill, taking on the role of counsellor. “So.” He drew out the vowel, and Hanzo could easily sense the postponing of a stark observation in that lightly buzzing voice. “You’re making miso. At 3 AM.” Hanzo dodged the judgemental tone.

He was too tired, and too proud, to acknowledge the strangeness of his actions. “Please, get out of the window.” As Genji near-silently hauled himself in, Hanzo wondered if he might sit in silence. Wondered if Genji would actually be respectable of the night, and be respectful of Hanzo’s wish to not discuss this.

His hopes were emboldened as Genji hopped up onto the counter, leaning the edge of his face mask on his palm. Hanzo looked away, turning his attention back to the vegetables he’d been chopping a few minutes prior. He could practically feel Genji’s eyes on him, could practically see the bored expression of his younger brother.

“So.” Again with the interruptions. Hanzo pretended Genji hadn’t said anything, instead choosing to sweep the vegetable bits into a little pile. He dropped them into the pot, careful to avoid excess splattering of water.

“Can’t sleep?” If Genji weren’t behind Hanzo, he would have seen the hollow sadness that weighed down the elder Shimada’s expression. Hanzo withdrew his hand, took a deep breath, and sighed it out. How he felt about life was remarkably similar to how he felt about the soup, so he did his best to convey his true feelings through the soup’s.

Slowly, he started. “I can… never get it right, you know…” He paused for a length of time, but he was sure Genji could understand that his pauses came from needing time for his words, not being finished. Genji knew that Hanzo would reveal more in a longer time than if he was rushed. That would only result in clenched jaws and frustrated silence.

Hanzo continued, after a moment. “It’s just….” Another pause, but this one was shorter. “Not the same.” Life, when depressed, when really in the thick of it, wasn’t the same as it was for other people. It wasn’t the same as even his good days. “I’ve tried so many recipes…” Online therapeutic techniques, meditation, even yoga and ‘drawing his feelings’. “And yet, there’s always something off.” That weight on his shoulders, that hollowness in his heart. He would have likely withdrawn into his thoughts, were it not for the sound of Genji’s voice.

“Have you tried atsu age?” Hanzo turned, offered an appreciative look, and let conversation flow more easily. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to keep his mind occupied, before it could draw in tight and cold around itself. Genji’s chatter was helpful, and his storytelling of various antics were a welcome distraction as Hanzo continued to fine tune the lightly bubbling soup.

“-and then she handed me the chandelier.” A soft snort of laughter from Hanzo followed, and Genji was pleased that he’d earned this much out of him. But something caught his auditory-sensing-processors. Fake ears. Whatever. “Oh, fuck.” He pushed himself off the counter, scrambling for the window from which he’d entered. Before Hanzo could so much as process what was going on, Genji leapt from the window.

“… Genji?” He asked the empty window, but all that responded was a light breeze. And… the clink of spurs? For the second time that night, someone came up behind him. Another unexpected guest, with a voice as deep and rough as the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Someone who was also up at an ungodly hour, and who didn’t expect another person to be there.

“Oh, Hanzo, you’re up too?” Jesse spoke with a little bit of surprise, but nothing to the degree of heart-pounding anxiousness as what Hanzo was feeling. ‘Ah, right. Stay calm.’ Hanzo warned himself. Jesse approached him, peering into the pot. He didn’t seem to recognize it, judging by the fact that his exhausted expression didn’t shift much, besides to mild curiosity. “What’s that you’re making?” He asked gently, voice lowered so as to not spook the wild Shimada in his natural environment. After a beat, Hanzo got up the voice to respond.

“Miso soup��” He could feel that weariness, the one his brother had attempted to lift, press down on his back once more. Hanzo pushed his shoulders back, tried to bear it with pride. “I… make it when I feel… Troubled.” He explained, slowly. Jesse didn’t rush him. In fact, after a moment of quiet understanding, Jesse made a similar confession of ‘troubles’.

“Think I could use some right about now.” He admitted, a crooked frown indicating that he related. His tired eyes were downcast, and he, too, bore the dark circles of sleeplessness on his chestnut, freckled skin. Stepping a bit closer, Jesse reached for the ladle. “Do you mind?” He asked, a bit belatedly as it was already within his grasp.

Hanzo turned, welcoming Jesse into his space, “Ah - no.” He permitted the act, but as Jesse raised the deep spoon to his lips, Hanzo’s thoughts grew louder. A flood of them, all at once. ‘Wait!’ they begged, ‘No!’. Hanzo didn’t say anything, his eyes just fell unfocused to the counter in front of him. ‘No! It’s not good enough! It’s not- wait! It’s not the same!’ The thoughts turned onto Hanzo, cruel, ‘No! He’s going to hate it! No, no! He’s going to hate you! No! No! He’s-’. The words began to form on Hanzo’s lips, and they parted, “Wait-” but it never was voiced. He could only pause, heart pounding, as Jesse spoke again. Everything in Hanzo’s mind came to a screeching halt.

“Oh Hanzo,” That low voice was so close, and so warm. Jesse leaned onto him gently, resting his head atop Hanzo’s. “This here just about soothes my soul.”

Hanzo was motionless, for a second, the words sinking in like the warmth onto his frozen form. But when he understood, he relaxed, and the warmth spread to his cheeks and to his smile. “Oh,” he said quietly, reciprocating the little lean. Jesse put his arm around his shoulder, and he fairly melted.

“I’m glad.”

#IM SO HAPPY EVERYONE LIKE.... HE CAUGHT SO MANY SMALL DETAILS AND IM SPEECHLESS #my heart is so full & warm rn im so happy?????? this is so good???? im so very touched #i spent like ten minutes just holding my face i m gay!!!!#mchanzo #also genji is there #afaik hes still taking commissions?? go check it out if youre interested!!!!!!!#g od im just so happy lhgjjHGFHJg #than k u so so much #this means a whole lot to me im so happ y :'''')#submission

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prettysei-remade · 7 years

Text

He’s Taken

Written for @leojiweek 2017: Day 1

Prompt: Others’ Interpretation of Leoji/Social Media

read on ao3

Laura xoxo: ugh

Laura xoxo: dani im so sry but my sister saw that picture u put on insta of u and ur brother at the water park and now she's begging me 2 get his number from u

Laura xoxo: she went on his insta and found out he's a wrld famous figure sk8r and she wont shut up abt him

Laura xoxo: pls ill buy u ice cream 4 a week if u can make her stop gushing abt how hot he is

Daniela sighs.

This is not the first time this has happened.

So many people - her friends, her friends’ sisters, girls from drama club, even a couple guys at her school - have tried to get to Leo through her. They're incredibly persistent, and Dani supposes she can see why they would be, from an objective standpoint.

Even she can't bring herself to say that Leo is bad-looking. It's horrible when all her friends come over while Leo is around, because they get all stupid and tongue-tied. She loves them, but they become incredibly annoying in those moments.

She knows Leo has his reasons for choosing to stay at home after graduating high school, but honestly, him moving out would make her life so much easier.

Of course, it doesn't help that he's also a competitive figure skater on the international level, and that he's won a bunch of medals. He's pretty successful, and relatively famous, so naturally everyone wants to be with him.

It would be marginally less irritating if everyone would stop hounding her for information on him.

She sets her phone back down on the kitchen table, prepared to ignore the text until she's finished her geometry homework, when a loud laugh from outside nearly makes her drop her pencil. She rolls her eyes.

Leo's home, and he's probably talking to his skating friend from China.

It's not that she doesn't like Guang Hong. From what she's seen and heard of him, he seems to be very sweet, pretty quiet, and definitely…

Well. It's obvious that he has a crush on Leo.

Anyway, she's spoken to him a little before, during some of his and Leo's many (many) Skype calls, and she likes him. He's only two years older than her, and he's always nice to her.

She knows Leo has a crush on him, too. They're seriously so obvious. But neither one of them thinks they have a chance.

Dani would be amused if it weren't so pathetic. Boys are so stupid, especially when it comes to feelings.

She hears the door swing open, and Leo continues to laugh and talk to the person on the other end of the phone as he walks through the house.

“We'll see each other soon, you know,” he says, a smile in his voice. He mouths a quick “hola” to Dani as he passes the kitchen. “We were both assigned to Skate Canada this year.” A pause as Guang Hong replies. Then, “I know, I feel like I haven't seen you in…”

His voice trails off down the hall, and Dani rolls her eyes. She picks up her phone to tell Laura what she's told everybody else.

It's not quite true, but it might as well be.

You: he’s taken, sry

…

Dani storms up the stairs, shouting all the way up.

“Leo! Mamá already called you for dinner twice, she's gonna be...”

Stopping by his slightly opened bedroom door, she looks through the crack to see Guang Hong's face on Leo's computer screen.

She rolls her eyes and barges in.

“Hi, Guang Hong,” she sighs. “Sorry to steal your boyfriend, but it's time for dinner and Leo really has to come downstairs right now.” She directs those last words at Leo with a pointed glare.

He sputters in response.

“Guang Hong isn't - we're not dating! I'm not his boyfriend!”

Guang Hong just laughs a little on his side.

She has to give him kudos for his reaction, at least. It's still obvious he likes Leo, but he seems to be way more chill about it than Leo is.

She directs her next question at him.

“Hey, isn't it really late in China? Or, like, early?”

He laughs again.

“I'm actually in France right now, for a competition,” he explains.

“A competition he's going to dominate,” Leo adds.

Guang Hong blushes.

Dani throws up in her mouth a little.

“Sure, whatever,” she says, turning to leave. “Mamá's getting really mad downstairs, so say goodbye to your boyfriend.”

“He's not my boyfriend!”

…

The cheers of the crowd nearly drown out what the TV announcer is saying when Leo is awarded his gold medal.

A few moments later, they roar up again when the silver medalist is presented, and then a final, third time when Guang Hong goes to get his bronze.

They look good, standing side-by-side on the podium.

Dani watches them hold up their medals for pictures with matching grins on their faces. Leo says something to Guang Hong, which makes him laugh, and then Guang Hong responds, which makes Leo blush.

To anyone else, this is nothing unusual.

Well, actually, it's nothing unusual to Dani, either. She has to live with half of this. But she's pretty sure she's the only one who's noticed the massive crushes they have on each other.

She's thought about schemes to get them together, before. Like, texting Guang Hong from Leo's phone, or something. It would probably be amusing, and they'd at least stop acting like idiots all the time.

But they should figure it out for themselves. It's bound to happen, sooner or later. Eventually, one of them is going to confess, or make a move. They're building up to something, all on their own, and she doesn't want to interfere unless she absolutely has to.

They're actually pretty cute already, she supposes. Leo is skating around the rink with Guang Hong, an arm draped over his shoulder, and they're both laughing and smiling. They keep saying things into each other's ear, and it's like everybody else - the photographers, the cheering crowd, even the other medalist - doesn't even exist.

She hopes they figure it out soon.

…

Unknown Number: Hi, this is Guang Hong! I hope you don't mind, but Leo gave me your number after we talked on Skype last night. Good luck for your play tonight!

Dani is surprised Guang Hong remembers what she had said about the play, and her drama club.

Sure, Guang Hong had invited her to join the conversation, and they'd actually all talked for a really long time, until Dani realized how late it was getting. She'd thought he would mostly just focus on Leo, though, and was only including her because he was nice to everyone like that.

Apparently not.

She quickly saves his number as a contact (“Leo’s Boyfriend,” because she’s hilarious) and tries to think of how to respond.

Despite her many interactions and connections at school, and a rather large amount of social experience, she isn't exactly sure on the protocol for when your brother's almost-boyfriend texts you, completely separate from said brother.

Whatever. Guang Hong's cool, he'll be nice no matter what she says. She does try to tidy up her grammar, though. At least a little bit.

You: it's cool, i like talking to you. and thanks

Leo's Boyfriend: You're welcome! :)

He still uses smiley faces. Unironically.

That's honestly adorable.

Dani has to hand it to Leo. He's found himself a keeper.

…

Leo's Boyfriend: one time, when we were in japan, phichit made us all try sushi

You: omg no

Leo's Boyfriend: lets just say im never again forcing him to eat anything he says he doesn't want 2 eat

You: omg

You: ok ok my turn

You: so one time we went on this road trip to minnesota

You: it was winter so we decided to go skating at an outdoor rink for fun

You: of course, hes famous and everything so this one lady recognized him and asked him for a picture

You: so they take the picture, everythings great

You: but then he goes to skate away

Leo's Boyfriend: oh no

You: he somehow slips

You: and falls flat on his back

Leo's Boyfriend: did he get hurt??

You: just his pride

You: he got so embarrassed. it was hilarious

Leo's Boyfriend: omg!! XD

You: u know, i think sharing our blackmail material is the best idea weve ever had

Leo's Boyfriend: agreed

…

You: omg i know

You: its always the worst when he tries 2 rap, though

Leo's Boyfriend: don't get me started

Leo's Boyfriend: one time he tried to rap along to ceiling can't hold us by macklemore?

Leo's Boyfriend: like it was cute, but also probably one of the most awful things ive ever heard

Leo's Boyfriend: !!! pls dont tell him i said that!!

You: the cute part or the awful part

Leo's Boyfriend: …

Leo's Boyfriend: both

You: u know he wldn’t care right

You: actually he'd probably spontaneously combust if he knew

Leo's Boyfriend: u want me to tell him i think he's awful at rapping??

You: no

You: nvm

You: has he told u abt his death metal phase yet?

Leo's Boyfriend: !!!

…

“Hey, Dani?”

She looks up from her phone, about to tell Leo off for interrupting her in the middle of an important conversation about whether or not Charlie actually likes Liza, but then she sees his face.

He looks nervous. And… maybe a little upset, though he's hiding it pretty well.

“What?” she asks, turning off the screen and dropping her phone on the armrest.

“Um… can I talk to you?”

“Of course.”

He sits down next to her on the couch and takes a moment to collect himself.

“It's…”

He pauses. Swallows.

“It's about Guang Hong.”

Dani’s ears perk up at that, but she decides not to say anything. She'd rather Leo tell her what's up on his own terms.

“I…” he takes a breath. “You guys are… pretty close, right?”

Dani raises an eyebrow.

“I mean… I guess,” she answers. “I guess we text a lot.”

“Yeah. Well, you - you like him, right?”

“... yeah?”

Leo exhales.

“Okay,” he says decidedly.

Dani is confused.

Did she miss something?

“Okay… what?” she asks.

“Just… okay. You have my blessing.”

What on earth is he talking about?

“I have your blessing? Your blessing for what?”

Leo holds up his hands.

“I know, I know, you don't care what I think,” he says quickly. “I know you don't need it. But… I just thought… I know you like each other, but he's my friend, too, so I thought I'd just… tell you, I approve. Okay?”

A cold, hard pit starts to form inside of Dani’s stomach as she begins to realize what's going on.

“Leo,” she says, carefully, “what… exactly are you giving your blessing for me to do?”

Leo frowns. He runs a hand through his hair.

“To… to date Guang Hong.”

Oh.

Oh my god.

Dani lets her eyes fall shut and her head drop back against the couch.

“Leo,” she groans.

“It's okay! It's fine, I don't mind, really!”

“Leo…”

“I know, this is awkward, but I'm your brother, so - ”

“Leo, you're so stupid.”

He stops at that.

“I…” he swallows. “What?”

“Leo,” Dani says patiently. “I don't like Guang Hong like that. Guang Hong doesn't like me like that. We're friends. Just like you.”

Leo sits back.

“Huh,” he says. “Well, nevermind, then.”

Dani looks at him, sitting there all confused, getting lost in his own thoughts.

He looks a little relieved, but he doesn't know what to think, now. Dani wonders how much he had psyched himself up, prepared himself for hearing that Dani wants to date the guy he's in love with.

Probably a lot.

He has no idea Guang Hong likes him back, and Dani is just now realizing how seriously it's affecting Leo.

They can't go on this way. Dani needs to do something, if only to keep her brother from hurting like this.

“Actually, we're not like you at all,” she says, sitting up straighter. “Guang Hong and I are friends. Guang Hong and you are… I don't even know what you are.”

“What do you mean? We're friends!”

“No, you're not, Leo,” Dani insists. “I mean, you are, but don't you see you're so much more than that? God, you guys are hopeless.”

“What do you mean, more?”

“I mean, you two are in love with each other and you don't even know it! It's driving all three of us insane, and I'm the only one who even notices! I mean you're hopeless, Leo!”

She pauses at the stunned look on Leo's face, panting slightly.

Leo stares at her.

Dani stares back.

Then Leo whispers, “You think he knows?”

Dani swallows.

“Not about you,” she whispers back.

“But he likes me back.”

“Yeah.”

Leo looks at the floor.

“Wow.”

Dani grins, in spite of it all.

“Yeah. Wow.”

He looks up at her, squinting.

“Do you think I should tell him?”

“If you don't, I'll tell him myself.”

He looks back at the floor.

“Wow,” he whispers.

He looks amazed, as if the idea of Guang Hong actually liking him back had never even entered his brain.

He smiles softly to himself.

Dani rolls her eyes.

…

Unknown Number: hey, this is tara from drama club last year! ashlyn gave me your number, hope that's ok lol! i was just wondering, that's your brother and his friend in that pic on instagram, right?

You: let me guess. u want my brothers number

Unknown Number: actually, i was wondering abt his friend? he's rlly cute lol

Dani is a little surprised Tara doesn't want Leo's number, but she knows the post she's talking about, and honestly, she kind of gets it.

Guang Hong has been coming over every few days to visit, since he’s training in California in the off-season. In this particular instance, he and Leo were sitting side-by-side on the couch, Leo's arm resting casually over the top of Guang Hong's shoulders, and the lighting coming in from the bay window was absolutely gorgeous. They made a perfect picture, and Dani couldn’t resist putting in on Instagram.

Well.

She smirks as she types her response to Tara, entirely truthful this time.

You: he’s taken, sry

#leojiweek2017 #leojiweek #ruby writes #ruby originals #leoji #fic

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idontwanttowhy · 3 years

Text

Review: True Beauty (2020)

Synopsis (copied from earlier post)

Im Ju Gyeong is a high schooler who likes horror comics, heavy metal music, and spending time in the local comic book store. She is bullied by a group of students at her school because they find her “ugly”, which leads Ju Gyeong to her wits end. When she moves to a new school, she decides to change her life around by using makeup to cover her bare face. Her new “goddess” level looks bring her a lot of attention, though not without a lot of stress. Her complicated relationships with two of the best-looking guys in school (and mortal enemies), Lee Su Ho and Han Seo Jun, doesn’t exactly help. Can Im Ju Gyeong keep her secret, and what will happen if she is found out?

MZ Overall: 7.5/10, it was a fun watch!

There were some truly funny moments in this show, and despite dealing with many dark themes, for the most part True Beauty kept it light. It pretty much departs from the source material after the first half, which was good... until it wasn't. I didn't really care that much about the main couple in the end, and felt that many of the last plot points were just "eh." Ultimately if you're looking for something with a great plot combined with the best parts of this show, I'd say watch Extraordinary You (2019); it definitely helps that they make several references to EY throughout!

MZ Review: (spoilers ahead)

The strong suits of this show were definitely the humor and relationships of all the characters. Ju Gyeong's siblings often stole the show with their scenes, and her friendships and classmates rounded out the romantic elements of this show nicely. I have mixed feelings about how they handled all of Ju Gyeong's friends finding out about her bare face (though there wasn't much to find out imo) but I'm happy that Su Ah stayed her friend, and that they were able to fight the bullies that tormented Ju Gyeong and Hye Min together. Even the way they wrote Su Jin's character was understandable, and I'm glad that they didn't just write her off as a villain to the very end. Do I wish they would have explored her thought process a little further? Absolutely. But something is better than nothing, and I saw room for them to be friends again even with everything that happened. The most delightful development was the friendship between Su Ho and Seo Joon, which was so refreshing considering that usually being love rivals is the thing that ends friendships, not the thing that brings them together. Enemies to friends is such an underrated trope! Probably the only relationship on this show I didn't like was Ju Gyeong's parents', and it doesn't get better at all. Overall they make Ju Gyeong's mom pretty unlikable, which is fairly in line with the webtoon, but I guess I was wishing that they would explore her character a bit more. The dad was a welcome edition to the Im family household and their dynamic, while hard to watch at times, still added a lot to the show.

Now, this might be a controversial statement, but I hate time jumps. Hate. H A T E. Plenty of dramas I've loved (looking at you Start Up) have done this to me and it doesn't necessarily take away from my overall experience, yet I can never get fully into the relationships again afterwards. There is something so wrong to me about there being what is effectively a pause on people's whole lives for however long the jump is that just doesn't sit right. True Beauty does not escape my ire in this area, and in fact this was one of the worse experiences with a time jump that I've had. First of all, I was really thinking that they had departed from that part of the storyline when Ju Gyeong and Su Ho started dating in the first place, so to have this happen was surprising. Then, Su Ho turned around and broke up with her? For... what exactly? She said she wanted to stay together, and he broke up with her knowing that he was going to pursue her again when he got back to Korea. What would have happened if she had moved on? To that point, my third (and always my biggest) pet peeve with this was that Seo Joon didn't confess while Su Ho was gone. UGH. Absolutely the worst part of any time jump is this. Like, dude, if you are so in love with her, are you really going to wait two years to start anything? UGH.

Anyway, I'd say overall it was fun to watch and I'm glad I spent the past months watching this show with my friends. The good parts outweigh the bad, and I think it is a welcome edition to any watch list.

AC Overall: 6.5/10, I watched it

So. True Beauty started off promising, with some intriguing elements to keep me, someone who normally doesn’t watch high school and/or strictly rom-com kdramas, interested. But, I gotta say, they found their groove and stuck to it. It’s everything I imagine high school kdramas have-teenagers being teenagers, with love triangles, bullying, and friendship drama. These last 11 episodes or so became typical, and definitely veered away from the webtoon (which I’ve now caught up on, shocker!) and stayed in the less chaotic world of teen romance with decreasing focus on the whole makeup thing. I gotta say, nothing really crazy happens, so if you’re up for teenagers being teenagers and like having second-lead syndrome, True Beauty is for you.

AC Review: (spoilers)

For me, however, I was definitely less invested once I realized they weren’t going to follow the webtoon’s path of having Su Ho go away before he and Ju Gyeong could start dating, and having Seo Joon as an actual love interest. Instead, Su Ho and Ju Gyeong got cute high school bf/gf scenes, and my boy Seo Joon didn’t shoot his shot. I was disappointed, probably because I prefer that Seo Joon and Ju Gyeong got a chance in the webtoon, and Su Ho wasn’t so destructive. But no, drama Su Ho said “it’s all about me” and did what he wanted (like a stereotypical teenager, I suppose) despite Ju Gyeong’s feelings. And for two years, Ju Gyeong couldn’t let go of Su Ho, probably because they had gone too far by the time he left (and after), and thus Seo Joon didn’t get an in. So the time jump in the drama’s case wasn’t an opportunity for Ju Gyeong to move on and then (maybe-we don’t actually know yet) finally choose Su Ho after exploring other options. Instead, it was--pointless? a fake time jump? because nothing really changed but their jobs and Su Ho’s hair. Su Ho himself made it clear when he came back AFTER 2 YEARS and acted like nothing happened.

Outside of the triangle, though, I did appreciate that Ju Gyeong and Su Jin were able to make up. And it seemed like a genuine I-turned-my-life-around-and-am-really-truly-sorry-for-being-a-bitch kind of apology; they even threw her “volunteering in Haiti” in there, which was...interesting. A topic for another post. AND we got our favs! ~Grapefuit~ and Hee Gyeong got a funny proposal and wedding fitting for their relationship. Ju Gyeong’s brother was still simping for Seo Joon’s sister, which–I guess.

I did wish the premise of Ju Gyeong "being ugly” and “hiding behind makeup” was explored more...it fell of once she was found out, went through it, and then was able to show her classmates that she could still bag Su Ho with her natural face (not that it was strong to begin with but-). So, if you want more consistent commentary on beauty standards and physical appearance, check out the webtoon, maybe try out the kdrama My ID is Gangnam Beauty or try another webtoon, Lookism, for a male perspective on appearance, and some action (I’m sure there are others...these are all I’ve watched/read pretty much).

Overall, it wasn’t a bad watch, especially with others and some drinking games. Read the webtoon if you shipped Seo Joon and Ju Gyeong and want a proper time jump (with more ~developments~), and watch the show for a more developed Su Jin, more side characters, and a typical high school kdrama.

#kdrama #kdramareview #kdrama recommendations #k-drama #k-dramareview #the extraordinary you references were the best part #seo joon x su ho and su jin x ju gyeong were my ships

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