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groovybaybee · 4 years

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Empty Beach (4.5k)

Three hours. It only took three hours for the tan line on my ring finger to be brought up. Three measly hours I had spent in the country, travelling to the house and unpacking, before his name was mentioned. Despite choosing a later flight in a desperate attempt to spend as little time with my distant relatives as possible, the question was inevitable.

“No Ethan this year?” my sweet but intrusive grandmother had asked the second grace had been uttered.

It took less than two seconds for the question to be answered by my mother.

“They split up, ma,” she said with a passive aggressive smile as she passed me some vegetables.

“That’s a pity… such a nice young man,” my grandmother pressed, leaning forward in her seat.

“Very nice,” I muttered under my breath, knowing fully well that my side of the story would never be accepted.

“Anyone else on the scene?” asked my uncle as he bounced a fussy toddler on his knee. “Want to get yourself settled soon, pop out a couple of these sweet things.” He added when I shook my head.

I watched as the child grabbed wildly at anything in his reach, knocking a bread roll on to the floor. My eyes followed my uncle as he reached down to scoop up the discarded food, quickly blowing at it before settling it back on his plate.

“Mhm,” I hummed before dropping my gaze to my plate, pushing the food around miserably.

The rest of the meal followed a similar pattern. Questions were asked. Digs unsubtly disguised as jokes were made at my expense. I offered half-hearted noises of agreement when reminded that my biological clock is ticking, and no man wants an old spinster for a wife.

Family has a way of making you feel terrible about yourself. They can highlight all your perceived failures and mock them to your face, delighting in their ‘progress’ comparative to yours.

Ethan used to make these visits more bearable. Having someone accompany me to these yearly holidays helped to calm the fire in my stomach, the urge to argue with my family’s traditional ideals. For a while, I convinced myself Ethan’s presence soothed my wild nature outside these trips as well, encouraging me to be practical and always plan ahead.

He was sensible and I was sensible when I was around him. So, when he asked me to marry him at this exact villa one year ago, I did the sensible thing and accepted.

My family were ecstatic, finally marrying me off and watching me become the person they expected me to become. First would be the wedding, then children, then grandchildren. I would be a wife, most likely staying home to raise our children and resenting every moment of allowing myself to be stifled like that.

Ethan and I made sense in almost every way. We just lacked that… something. Some people describe it as a spark, others a fire. Whatever it is, it never existed between us. We both knew that, so it did not shock me to see the relief in his eyes when I returned his ring.

No one could understand how we ended a four-year relationship over seemingly nothing, especially not my family members.

“Have you been trying to work things out with Ethan? I’m sure if you just talked you could resolve whatever you’re going through.” My mother urged as we cleared the table.

The scoff that left my lips was unintentional but impossible to retain.

“I’m trying to help fix your mistakes.” She snapped, clattering plates as she piled them forcefully.

“Not everything I do is a mistake.” I countered softly, exhausted from my flight and from the years of having this conversation.

“Of course not, but don’t your father and I deserve grandchildren? Have we not earned that after—”

I refused to let her finish her sentence, quickly announcing that I was going for a walk.

Blood boiled in my veins as I trudged through cobbled streets. The stomp of my sandals against the ground sounded ridiculous and only infuriated me further as I stormed aimlessly through familiar backstreets until the sound of softly crashing waves called me closer.

It was after sunset, most of the beach empty save for a few teenagers gathered around a small fire. The anger in me had subsided by the time I reached the sand, gently toeing off my shoes and carrying them with me as I walked the width of the beach.

Waves brushed my toes as I inhaled and exhaled deeply, grateful for the gentle evening breeze that seemed to soothe the burn inside my throat. I spent a few moments, still, allowing the water to cleanse my soul and pull away the negativity of the night with each receding wave.

Planting myself in the sand, I stretched out my legs to their full extent, flexing and relaxing my bare feet until the tiny grains felt coarse on my skin.

I sat for a long while, reminding myself that only I knew what was best for me. Not my family, who I purposely only interacted with a couple of times per year. They barely knew me; they most definitely did not know what I needed.

The urge to settle down at a young age and start a family as quickly as possible in order to continue the cycle had never appealed to me. Even as a child I craved excitement and adventure; something no amount of familial intervention could knock out of me.

A late-night trip to the beach like this one would be considered reckless. I could only imagine the passive-aggressive nightmare I would return to. Silent gawks and glares would surround me until I felt claustrophobic.

My desire for freedom and spontaneity most certainly was the product of a recessive gene, one only shared by my great aunt, Delilah. She stopped attending all family get-togethers when I was still a child. The memory of her pulling me back during a family walk to skip stones with her would stay with me forever.

“They won’t be around you forever,” she had told me as she bounced a rock four times across the placid lake. “One day you’ll have your own life. You’ll make your own choices and you’ll make them for yourself, won’t you honey?”

I hadn’t really understood what she meant but I nodded anyway. I idolised her. The fire I recognised in myself, I saw in her. She was the only one who understood me, which is why it hurt all the more when I had to face family gatherings alone.

It was only when I was an adult that her leaving made sense. Delilah was in her late sixties when she finally came out to her family. That evening, after we returned from the lake, I was sent to bed while my family had a ‘grown-up’ discussion. The next morning, she was gone, and no one would tell me why.

She sent presents on birthdays and Christmas, postcards from each new place she visited, always reminding me to be true to myself and do what I wanted. Now she was free, she felt alive.

I drew her name in the damp sand with my index finger, mine beneath it, and made a silent promise to keep the fire alive for the both of us.

What would DeeDee do right now? I had wondered.

An immediate grin had spread across my face when I heard her voice in my head, telling me: “I don’t know, something stupid like skinny-dipping.”

I knew that if she were around, she would tell the story of how she skinny-dipped at boarding school with the headmistress’ daughter. I could almost feel the warmth of her laughter as I sat on the sand.

Envying her liberation, I glanced around the beach to gage the possibility of being nude without being arrested for public indecency.

The teenagers had left while I was reminiscing, their fire extinguished. The beach appeared empty. No one would see. Even if it was just for a moment, it felt something that I needed to experience.

Head and heart fixed on the idea, I quickly stripped my body of the pale blue sundress. Taking a swift but deep breath, I pulled down my underwear and tossed them into the pile. A small giggle fell from my lips as my body adjusted to the new temperature. A warm gust of wind blew past me, almost as if encouragingly pushing me towards the water.

I ran without looking back until my knees splashed water around my body and the ocean became too deep and slowed me down. I stood, waist deep, under the sky. It was a clear night, save for a few light clouds which glided past in the breeze.

My eyes fell closed as I breathed in the moment, desperate to savour each salty kiss and gentle caress of the water. Everyone had disappeared. Each nag and dig had vanished from memory. This was peace.

It was peace, until the gentle crashing of waves was interrupted by a sigh.

Instantly, I crouched in the water, eager for ever the slightest touch of modesty as I turned to locate the source of the sound.

About ten metres away, waves lapping around his ribs, stood a man with his eyes closed and head thrown back as if bathing in the moonlight.

In a desperate attempt to go unseen, I squatted low. My chin just above the water, I attempted to side-step away in order to keep an eye on him and prevent any awkwardness.

I was almost crab-walking away when he finally noticed me, a misplaced footstep caused me to be plunged underneath the lukewarm tide.

“Whoa, you alright?” I heard him ask when I surfaced, spluttering and spitting so much water that I did not notice him mirror my stance, also crouched.

“Fine.” I coughed, clearly not fine but thankful that he did not press it.

The two of us stood in silence as I caught my breath, running my hands over my head to scrape back the tangling mess of hair, already wondering how I would explain this when I returned to my family.

“Nice night isn’t it?” he asked after the silence started to become thick with tension.

“Yeah, not bad,” I replied, pausing for a moment to smirk at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Know any constellations?” he had asked, turning his head back up to the sky.

“Not really,” I answered.

It was at this moment that I was given the chance to appreciate him. His head bobbed just above the water, darkened wet hair plastered itself to his head, some parts curling out in defiance. An angular jaw tilted to the stars, catching their light and softening his features. The stranger glowed and glistened as awe-filled eyes watched the twinkling wonders above us.

“You?” I questioned.

“Just the ones everyone knows… Orion’s belt, Cassiopeia…” he commented, and I copied his stance, gazing up to the night sky.

An overwhelming swell of gratitude washed across me as I stood beneath the glittering expanse. I pictured the stars looking down at us as we did to them, marvelling at their distance. Everything felt so insignificant in the most calming way. It did not matter what my family thought of me, or even the unknown man beside me (once I felt safe that he was not about to murder me and leave my lifeless body to float out with the tide). All that mattered is that in that moment, cuddled by gentle waves and illuminated by starlight, I felt alive.

“When I was a kid, I thought that night-time was like a knitted blanket and stars were the little gaps you get,” he spoke.

Not able to help myself, I turned to him with a grin at his admission. It felt like such an impossible confession to make to a stranger that I had to meet his gaze, eyes already trained on me by the time mine found his.

“Sorry, bit mental to tell a stranger.” He laughed.

“What’s your name?” I asked, sensing his discomfort from oversharing. “Then we aren’t strangers anymore.”

I learnt his name was Harry. I told him mine and we discuss childhood beliefs as if we had known each other longer than a few minutes. Mentioning my unshakable faith that lightening was just a huge camera flashing seemed to relax him. There was a sweetness to the look he gave me as I spoke. A gentle stare that paired with an equally easy smile. Lips quirked with each word I uttered, until I soon wore a matching grin.

Only when I was able to notice the deep-set dimples in his cheeks did I realise we had migrated closer to one another. By the sea or our own volition, we were only a few feet apart. He was breath-taking up close, warm but dark eyes glinted emerald and a light dusting of freckles across his nose were a testament to a day in the sun.

It was then that I began to panic. The realisation that the possibility to slip away without him seeing my nude body was quickly diminishing the more I spoke to him. But I didn’t want to stop.

“I don’t believe you.” I laughed heartily.

“It’s true! I can call my mum and she’ll tell you. My sister convinced me whenever I blinked everyone turned into a frog.” He spoke fondly, a warmth spreading across his features as he reminisced.

“Can I ask you something that’s going to sound a bit mad?” I asked once calm was restored between us. One last-ditch effort to keep some dignity intact.

“Sure.” Harry had answered with a light, throaty chuckle.

“Do you think you could wait here for a few minutes and then come meet me on the beach? I’m getting kind of cold, but I think you’re interesting.” I explained the best I could.

“Okay.” He smiled.

Almost unbelievably, he continued to follow my instructions when I had him face away from the beach and promise not to look back. He seemed respectful when I made a half-hearted comment about wanting privacy as I towelled off, so I made my way out of the water with confidence that he would not peek. Even if he did, all he would have seen was two cheeks speeding away.

As quickly as possible, I wiped off as much excess water as I could before pulling on sandy clothing. Almost instantly, a wave of regret passed over me as grains of sand covered a variety of patches of skin. However, when I saw Harry stepping towards me, equally sodden and sandy, the feeling washed away as promptly as it had arrived.

“So how come you’re out here alone?” I asked curiously as we sat.

“Doing a bit of solo travelling, kind of figuring out who I am by myself.” He answered. I felt there was more to his story that he was holding back but I did not push. “How about you?”

“Similar thing kind of... just needed a break.” I explained. I imagine he sensed the same caginess from me as I did him, but, again, we did not dive deeper.

“What’s the plan for your trip? Where you headed next?” I asked nosily, fascinated by him in all honesty.

“No real plan.” He told happily.

Again, he took my breath away. Here was someone with no plans, no aims, no pressures. He was freely living his life. The carefree and spontaneous nature of his attitude threw me off, and I sat staring at him, wondering how I could capture that feeling and keep it with me.

“What?” he asked with a smirk as I gazed at him admiringly.

“Nothing, you’re… you’re just not like a lot of people I know.”

“Shall I take that as a compliment?”

“Definitely.” I told him with a nod.

Finally, I managed to prise my gaze from him and look out to the swelling ocean, but I felt his eyes on me still. My face began to heat up as I felt his lingering looks, tracing over my features. Breath caught in my throat as my chest rose and fell heavily.

“Harry,” I uttered, voice barely above a whisper as I turned to face him.

“Mm?” he hummed, eyes softly locked on my lips.

We didn’t say anything else, there was no room for words as our bodies gravitated towards one another until our lips touched. His were salty and a little chapped from the ocean, I imagine mine were too, but they left soft, buttery kisses that left my chest aching for more. From the first moment our lips pressed, I felt addicted to them. Each kiss was another hit, more intoxicating than the last.

He held me to him. Fingertips grazed the slope of my jaw. Lips sweeter than treacle, we sank together. Soon, our bodies laid as one on the sand, water occasionally lapping at our toes as the tide rolled closer.

We kept ourselves warm despite the dropping temperature, bodies moving against one another symbiotically. Gradually, hands worked their way under clothing, cold and warm meeting in a blissful collision. A cocktail of excitement and caution filled my stomach. Each matched breath and heavy sigh sent a fizz through my bloodstream, soon drunk on his movements. Desire and trepidation battled throughout my being; a tug of war unevenly stacked against sensibility.

When a large hand reached my breast, a light gasp tumbled from my lips. His actions stoked a fire within me that even the rising tide could not extinguish. Harry moved slowly, thoughtfully, as his touch spread around me, seeming to savour every single inch. My body arched into his when his lips pulled at the soft flesh of my neck, sucking gently but enough to have my hips rolling involuntarily. Desperately seeking some form of stimulation, they jolted harshly against his. The smirk I felt pressed against my skin only encouraged the burning within me. I was in dire need for something free and a little wild, and there he was.

“I don’t want to assume anything…” I began, my breathy voice barely above a whisper as his lips travelled down my collarbones and to my chest, “But do you have protection?”

“In my bag.” He replied with a nod to his large, bulging backpack.

For a moment, we lay still, his chin on my chest as bright eyes and a matching smile looked up at me. There was a shared sense of relief at the realisation that we both wanted the same thing and wanted the best possible outcome for each other. There was mischief in our eyes, a touch of recklessness, but mainly care.

Lips returned to my skin, puckering along each peak and valley of my covered torso until his mouth reached the hem of my dress. Lifting his eyes questioningly to meet mine, he waited patiently until I gave a soft nod. Eagerly, hands slip beneath the fabric, gliding up the outside of my thighs to reach my hips. He grabbed at the flesh there, greedily kneading it as kisses worked their way up the inside of my legs.

“Harry…” I breathed out hopelessly.

His lips crooked into a smile, but he continued to take his time, seeming to enjoy the way my body fought to lay flat against the sand.

Special attention was given to each and every part of my body, his lips taking their time in dragging their way upwards until, finally, they met the ache between my thighs. His tongue licked tentatively to begin with, before the sight of my body writhing beneath him instilled a new wave of confidence. Soft licks evolved into wet, open-mouthed kisses. Before too long, his mouth moved keenly in delicate swirls as fingertips dug gently but firmly into my hips. Harry held me in place as I desperately sought more from him. Back arched and toes dug helplessly into the sand, his hair tangled through my fingers.

His eyes were on me the whole time, confidently working me close to orgasm without even a shred of doubt in his performance. Not that there needed to be, his mouth moved beautifully against me, switching between soft licks, gentle sucking, and passionate lapping. I felt his jaw moving up and down as his face pressed into me, nose and mouth gliding up and down the length of my pussy, sure to leave no area neglected. My eyes met and disconnected with his constantly, battling to watch and remember every detail of being with him while struggling to keep my eyes open at all.

“Think you can come for me?” he groaned; lips so close they sent vibrations across my flesh.

I was already a quaking mess from his actions, but his words, his desire to give me pleasure, all became too much. My fingers wound through his hair as he pulled me closer, working faster and sloppier. Messy, wonderful circles swirled around my clit as a hand reached up the length of my body. The top of my dress was pulled down, breasts exposed and sensitive in the night air. Gentle fingertips juxtaposed the passion between my legs as they caressed and rolled the freed flesh.

Overcome with sensation, my hips shuddered against him. Stomach contracting as my toes buried themselves in the sand and fingers grasped his hair, desperate to cling to the world in any way possible. My body fought this urge, convulsing and shivering as his actions became less intense, tongue moving softer against me as he pulled me through my orgasm.

Once I had stopped shaking, Harry crawled back up my body to lay beside me. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead before propping himself up on his elbow to observe me.

My breathing levelled out and muscles relaxed before I was able to open my eyes again. When I did, I noticed the way the moonlight reflected on his face, showering him with luminescent majesty. He looked ethereal as he watched over me.

“All good?” he asked softly, the slightest touch of nervousness present in his voice.

In response, I nodded my head to his backpack. I watched as an inescapable grin slipped on to his lips before he rolled over to dig through his bag.

As he searched, my hands began to explore his body. Slowly, they felt the tension of his shoulders, a firm chest, prominent abdominal muscles covered in a layer of soft flesh. The other hand ghosted across the meatiness of his thighs, urgently fighting the desire to dig my fingers in. It continued up to his hipbone, the bottom of his shirt pushed up slightly, revealing tattoos I had not had chance to see yet. I wondered if he would let me count them sometime as he turned back to face me, condom in hand.

His gaze softened as it fell on me, flickering for a second to my breasts before returning to my face. Our lips reconnected, the same warmth spreading across them and down into my chest and stomach, already hooked on the feeling.

“You’re sure, right?” I asked him when my hand reached the waistband of his shorts.

“Positive. You?”

My answer came in the form of a nod before I slipped a hand through his hair and pulled his lips back to mine.

Our hands worked clumsily together to unbutton his shorts, soft giggles shared as our fingers tangled. I pulled myself on top of him as he rolled the condom down the length of his cock. His eyes watched me hungrily as I positioned myself above him, gathering the excess fabric of my skirt in my hand before sinking slowly on to him. A gasp left my mouth involuntarily as my body accommodated his size. When the backs of my thighs met the tops of his, I paused, my hips grinding of their own volition. Rocking back and forth caused him to hit the most delicious spots, my muscles clenching around him until he was bucking his hips slightly, starting the cycle anew.

I rose from my position before returning, just as slowly and deliberately. The moans my movements elicited where otherworldly. The melting of our bodies into one another was intense, seeming to fit and move together as if that was their design. Soon, our hips rolled and met quicker, the sensation unlike anything I had ever felt. After a moment, Harry sat up, one arm around my waist and the other behind him to steady us. Lips clung to my chest, pressing kisses along my sternum before encircling my nipple and sucking softly. My hips began to move up and down at the new sensation, causing Harry to pull his head back, watching with lust-filled eyes as my breasts bounced before his eyes.

A low growl of a moan escaped Harry’s lips as both arms wrapped around my waist tightly. I was lifted and placed gently on my back on the sand before I could even register what was happening. This new position allowed so much more freedom for him, his hips instantly snapping against mine. Each thrust shook my whole body, sand certainly tangling in my hair. There would be no excusing this when I returned to the villa, but I could not have cared less. All I could think about was the feeling between my legs as Harry grabbed me by the waist and collided our hips over and over. He had pulled his shirt up, holding the bottom between his teeth to prevent it from interfering. His eyes bore into mine, watching with a small smirk as I crumbled into a moaning mess beneath him when he slipped a hand down to rub gentle circles against my clit. Still sensitive from before, the added stimulation had me writhing under him.

I became increasingly thankful for the sound of the waves, just loud enough to cover the obscenities that spilled from my lips as I was brought to my second orgasm. The sensation of my muscles tightening around him proved too much, as he stilled not soon after, a beautifully gruff rendition of my name tumbling from his lips.

After a moment of gentle thrusts, he pulled out and returned to his position beside me, grabbing a towel from his bag and laying it across us like a blanket. His arm lifted, calling me closer until my head rest on his chest. We laid for a while, regaining our breaths and waiting for our heartbeats to slow.

“I think that one is Ursa Major.” Harry spoke softly, his voice a little gravellier than before.

I looked up to the stars to seek the constellation he pointed out, quickly realised I was not that interested.

“I don’t really care about stars.” I confessed, looking up at him with a slightly exhausted grin.

“Me neither,” he replied, bottom lip tugged slightly into his mouth as he smirked at me mischievously. “Just wanted to keep talking to you really.”

Thankful that the night would cover the heat rising in my cheeks, I told him, “I think I quite enjoy talking to you.”

“Maybe we should run away together.” He joked, a look of fear flickering through his eyes as he realised how intense that could sound, quickly melted away by my breathy laugh.

“Where do you want to go first?”

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justallamaimaginingthings · 4 years

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Angel {Klaus Hargreeves x Reader}

A/n: I SWEAR this started with the pure intention of fluffiness. My hand slipped, I guess *wink*. Btw, even though this is the original version, I’d be more than happy to change it up a little so it can become gender neutral or about a male reader if anyone’s interested, so don’t hesitate to message me about it. Enjoy 💘💘

Warnings: Slight smut

Words: 1990ish II TUA Masterlist

Walking down the street, Y/n couldn’t help leaning closer to Klaus so that their shoulders were touching as he placed and arm around her waist, enjoying the feeling of finally having her by his side. After a whole year without any sign of her or anyone else, he had almost given up all hope of ever seeing her again, unaware that for the first time life was on his side. And here they were, walking together back to the place Klaus had come to call home.

"So is your cult going to be there?" She asked teasingly making him roll his eyes at her.

"For the last time, it's not that much of a cult really, more of a spiritual community" He defended himself but still he was unable to hold back a chuckle upon seeing the incredulous look she was giving him.

"Allison said it's a cult and I believe her" She insisted

"You'd take Allison's word over mine? I'm hurt, love" He replied, making an exaggerated motion of placing a hand over his heart like he was in physical pain. If there was one word she could use to describe Klaus that was extra. However, she had come to love his quirky, overly dramatic reactions just as much as she loved him and she simply adored teasing him. No matter how much he pretended to be annoyed, Klaus wouldn’t change their little fake fights for the world. Every time he made her laugh he could feel his chest swelling with pride and her smile was all the reward he needed, making his heart skip a bit and his heart flood with affection.

To say she had missed her would be an understatement. There hadn’t been a single day during the last three years that he hadn’t thought about her. Mornings were the worst and everyday he'd find himself instinctively reach for her across the bed only to be met by empty sheets as the weight on his chest returned to crush him. Sometimes he would dream of her, dream of holding her and kissing her senseless or making love to her until dawn before they fell asleep in each other's arms. Those mornings it became even more difficult for him to carry on, sobriety only adding to his struggles, but somehow he managed to pull through and it was worth it.

"What if I find a way to make it up to you later?" She asked in a suggestive tone as she turned around so that she stood right in front of him, right before lacing her hands around his shoulders. Her fingers found his curly locks and gently brushed through them, eliciting a satisfied hum from his lips. He wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her closer as his grip on her tightened, the thought about what was to follow already having an effect on him.

"I'm really offended, I doubt there's any way to get passed that" He played along but the breathlessness of his tone gave him away. She smirked at him right before checking around for other passengers, but luckily the small street was completely empty and the last rays of sunshine left little to no light to reach the alley. She took a step forward causing him to move backwards until he was leaning against the wall and pulling her with him.

The moment her lips made contact with his jaw, he knew he was done for. She started leaving soft kisses that turned more intense as she made her way down the column of his neck, gently nipping and sucking on the sensitive skin. Klaus tried -and failed- to hold back a moan when she gently bit down on his collarbone and she smirked, loving the way his body seemed to respond even to the lightest touch. Leaning back to look at him, her breath caught in her throat. He looked positively wrecked, face flushed, pupils dilated and lips parted in desire.

"I'll think of something" She whispered and he could feel her lips brush against his, sending a shiver down his spine. The loose shirt he was wearing allowed her fingers to roam around his chest while his hands moved from her waist to the small of her back and ended up gripping her hips so tightly it would leave a bruise. He leaned in for another kiss, channeling all his feelings into it and it was her turn to sigh when he licked her bottom lip as if asking for permission which she happily granted. He tangled his hand in her hair as their tongues fought for dominance. Slowly, her hand made its way down to the front of his pants, palming his straining erection.

"Love, if you keep this up we won’t make it back home" He whispered hoarsely wrapping his hand around her wrist. Truth was it would be far from the first time they'd get it on in a public space and both of them clearly enjoyed the thrill of perhaps getting caught, but that time was different. They had gotten back together two days ago, after spending three years apart. Klaus wanted to show her just how much he'd missed her during that time and a quickie in a dark alley was no way to do that, no matter how bad he wanted her. He didn’t have to say another word; she could tell what he was thinking from the look her was giving her.

Instead of replying, she placed a soft kiss on his lips before taking hold of his hand and lacing their fingers together. "Lead the way, then" She told him, an affectionate smile gracing her features and for yet another time Klaus wondered how he had gotten so lucky. He had to put on an effort not to get carried away once again, before he pushed himself off the wall and continued walking. They made their way towards the mansion, exchanging funny stories from the time they spent away from each other and laughing. By the time they reached their destination, the sun had set and night had fallen.

"Welcome home" Klaus declared as they turned down the last corner. Her eyes blew wide in surprise caused by the awe inspiring sight in front of her. The large garden was filled with all types of lanterns and lamps making it look almost magical, while a crowd of people, the cult's members she assumed, was marching around doing this and that. In the centre of the garden laid a huge white building accompanied by what appeared to be an equally huge pool.

"You live here?" She exclaimed turning to look at Klaus who couldn’t hide his amusement at her shocked reaction. "How??"

"Well, you know… Dicks, drugs, debutantes, my holy trinity" He replied casually making her laugh and playfully hit his arm.

"It’s beautiful" She noted in a more serious tone.

"Yeah" He agreed and if she wasn't so preoccupied by her surroundings, she would have noticed him staring at her with an expression of pure admiration. The way the light hit her face made her features pop out and he could easily lose himself in her sparkling eyes. He was about to say something when a group of his followers who were passing right in front of them suddenly stopped having seemingly frozen on their tracks. They looked at her with a shocked expression before falling on their knees and bowing down. It even took Klaus a moment to realize what was happening while the cult members spoke in one voice.

"But what is the use of trying when all you get is pain? When I wanted sunshine, I got rain and then I saw her face. Now I'm a believer without a trace of doubt in my mind" They chanted and she swore she had heard those words before. Realizing they were all looking at her in complete awe and a little bit of fear she turned to him for explanation.

"Klaus, I didn’t expect to say that in my life but why is your cult reciting Smash Mouth at me?" She asked with visible confusion.

"Yeah, well you see…" He tumbled over his words, avoiding looking at her as if he was embarrassed by what was going on "I may have told them you’re an angel send from heaven" He said in one breath, thankful for the fact that the poor lighting helped cover his blushing face.

"They think I'm a what now?" She repeated, thinking she must have heard something wrong, even though with Klaus nothing was too farfetched.

"An angel" He repeated quietly. She didn't have enough time to react to this revelation because a member of the group hesitantly spoke up.

"Prophet does the arrival of heaven's angel mean the apocalypse is prevented?" A bald man around his 30s asked in a small voice, afraid to interrupt the conversation of what he believed were two god blessed celestial beings.

"What?" Both Y/n and Klaus asked at the same time, almost having forgotten they were in the presence of others.

"Will we be brought eternal peace?"

"Is this the end of all wars?"

"Can you give us some advice from heavens?"

Questions kept flowing and soon the voices all blended together in an incomprehensible noise. Klaus took her hand and started running towards his room in a futile attempt to escape the increasingly large crowd only for it to chase them down the garden. When they reached the door, he shot her a helpless look and she couldn’t help rolling her eyes at him and the mess he had created.

"I'm sure you all have many questions, but the Prophet needs to medicate before he can bring you the enlightenment you seek" She said in the best authoritative voice she could muster, surprised by the fact that by the time she was done talking the crowd had already started to disperse seemingly having listened to her.

Turning around, she followed Klaus into the room, closing the door behind her so that the two of them could actually get some much needed privacy. She was about to ask him how he managed to control all those people, but didn’t even have a chance to talk because by the moment the door was shut close he had pushed her against the wall and captured her lips in a sweet passionate kiss. His thumb softly caressed her cheekbone and she melted under his touch. The way his lips moved against hers, drinking her in as if she's air and he's drowning, was enough to drive her crazy and a whine of complaint escaped her when he pulled away much too soon for her liking.

"Now, now love, I believe some making up was promised" He said in a husky tone that made her heart skip a bit. There were no words to describe how much he had missed her or how deep his affections ran but frankly he didn’t have to talk. He could just show her and show her he did. The two lovers spent the rest of the night under the sheets, making up for the lost time while the room filled with the sound of moans and muffled whispers. The morning found them curled up in each other's arms, exchanging loving words and soft caresses and for the first time in a long while everything was okay.

#tua #tua klaus #tua x reader #tua x you #tua imagine #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x you #klaus hargreeves imagine

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ashleyswrittenwords · 4 years

Text

Frogs, Fevers, and Forehead Kisses

My titles are getting more unimaginative by the day.

----------

“Her Royal Highness requested that we test the specimen she found by Death Mountain.”

The princess’s knight attendant looked between the Sheikah scientists with growing confusion, the overly respectful distance only increased his worry. Robbie and Purah inched further away as if he were a grizzly bear still debating whether he wanted to eat them.

“I don’t understand,” his brow furrowed, “Is the princess okay?”

“Oh, yes,” Robbie waved him off. “Mere symptoms.”

His heart dropped, “Symptoms? Of what?”

“Link,” Impa said crisply from behind the two. He couldn’t see her face from behind Robbie, but that sternness was unmistakable. “In the frog, Purah found a strain of the flu that was thought to be extinct.”

“Is,” he tried to swallow the dread in his throat. “Is she in danger?” Hylia, it had to be the frog, didn’t it? After incessant pleads from Princess Zelda, he quickly learned he didn’t have the strength to deny her for long. That night they roasted it over a fire with as much seasoning as he could find, then they shared it and he was bombarded with her scientific analysis.

Did he feel any more energetic? No.

Could he see any better in the dark? No.

Was he ill or queasy? Not any more than one would be when they eat a charred amphibian.

And, if he were being honest, it wasn’t that bad. The spices definitely helped with the taste, though Link doubted he would do it again on his own volition.

“Historically, no,” Purah inserted, adjusting her glasses, “Unless you are a specific subrace of Hylian, the host will only experience common flu symptoms from seven to fourteen days – which is the apparent case with Zelda.”

An itch started in his sinuses and he tried to ignore it.

“And what would happen if that specific person were affected?”

“Oh, I can answer that!” Robbie pointed his chin up, airy in his demeanor. “The Sheikah would experience symptoms such as vomiting, pneumonia, and subsequent death.”

The itching came to a head and Link sneezed loudly into his elbow, leaving Impa to yelp and run down the hall. “Send him away! Goddesses, send the infested child away!”

Purah pursed her lips, “Ah, she means we have to isolate you and the princess.”

---

They had been in the same room for two days now, which wasn’t out of the ordinary. Princess Zelda had been his charge for nearly a year. However, it had never been like this. Neither of them were allowed to leave the room nor interact with anyone that wasn’t already infected – and that was restricted to Link and Zelda.

The room was isolated in the west wing due to the lesser populated halls and, until their isolation, was meant exclusively for storage. A large bed had been moved in for the princess and a smaller cot for her knight. Other than that, the room was barren and the essentials were brought up and left by the door where he was only allowed to open it once the servant had left. It wasn’t long until the castle realized the top physicians were all Sheikah of origin who feared the possible levels of contagion.

Upon his arrival, it was obvious that Zelda had been taking the brunt of the illness. The princess was already burrowed within the quilts of her new bed with a heated fever. So, through the mahogany of the door, it was decided that Link would be her main caretaker and communicate her vitals every morning.

A knock at the door snapped Link out of his daydreaming haze and he approached it.

“Yes?”

The voice was muffled yet unquestionably regal, “How is she?”

Link gave a passing glance to the girl resting in her bed and lowered his voice, “She’s resting now, Your Majesty.”

King Rhoam sighed, “I suppose it is for the better. You’re a decent lad, Link. Look after her.”

“I’ll let the princess know you came by.”

Receding footsteps signified the king’s departure. Link turned to the sleeping form under the quilts. The princess had woken up a half hour ago, shuddering from a cold that wasn’t there. He found himself being drawn to her without needing to be. With the covers drawn to her chin, her hair formed a halo around her in tangled blonde strands. Audible breaths came from her slightly parted lips and her cheeks were flushed pink with fever. Link’s rather sleepy expression upturned.

Gently, he leaned down onto the mattress. With one hand, he smoothed down the short hairs that so often fell in her face and pressed his lips to her forehead.

It was a quick show of affection and as quickly as he had indulged, he moved away to rest his exhausted head on the cot.

After all, he was sick too.

---

Four days into isolation, the princess learned she couldn’t read for long in her condition. With a lantern wicking from her bedpost, her knight had taken up the task by sitting in a chair that looked older than his father. At her bedside, he read through a novel about a milk maid who decided she wanted to travel the world and fell in love with a highwayman. Now they were at the part where she was cornered by ruffians and this masked crusader rides in on his midnight stallion. With one raise of his sword-

“You have a nice voice,” Zelda interrupted him. He glanced up from the book to see her quietly watching him, her cheek flush with the pillow below her.

“It’s the fever talking,” he simply said, caught between the magnifying green of her eyes and the following words of the novel.

She made a small motion, “No, I mean it. I want to hear what’s going to happen next, but at the same time it’s like I’m being lulled to sleep.” Then, almost predictably, she fell into a heavy cough that haunted her when she spoke too much. Link knew it sounded worse than it really was, but it made him wince regardless, “I think that means we should get some sleep.”

A whine came from the bed, “It does not!”

“It’s already late and you need to build up your strength.”

“Link, please?” Zelda paused him as he stood. There was that look again. The look that got them in this mess in the first place. Just as he was going to deny her a final time, she hurriedly said, “I’ll fall asleep if you keep reading. And tomorrow we can read over where I fell asleep so I don’t miss anything.”

Link closed his eyes, relenting and falling back into the chair. “Fine.”

She smiled to herself and briefly he thought that if she stood in the middle of battlefield with that face, she could stop a war.

He read for an hour. The highwayman had revealed himself to the former milk maid and she gasped. It was the blacksmith’s son who she had been betrothed to since they were young. She hadn’t seen him in years and fearing her reaction, he ran from her. Link let his voice trail off.

The princess didn’t budge. Her arm hung off the bed in slumber. Slowly, in case the chair decided to creak, Link rose and set the novel on the seat. He took her forearm gingerly and tucked it into the pile of covers. Although her smile was gone, the relaxed expression she wore affected him all the same. Impulsion took over and he brushed her hair aside and kissed above her brow.

Then, uneventfully, he blew the lantern out.

---

Six days of isolation passes by and now there is splashing water.

“Link, don’t look.”

“I’m not looking.”

“I know, but just… don’t look.”

“I’m not looking!”

The tub was in the center of the room and Link was buried under a blanket. He heard a loud slosh and then water dripping into the tub. Zelda sighed from the other side of the room, finally feeling clean after almost a week. It seemed as if they were on a scale. The healthier Zelda seemed to get; the more ill Link seemed to fall. Some of her blankets were transferred over to his small cot.

“Alright,” she finally said, “I’m dressed now.”

Groaning, he sat up. Link felt every bit as awful as he looked. His hair was in disarray and tissues covered his surroundings. “I don’t think I need to bathe.”

Zelda stared incredulously, “You must.”

“I don’t want to.”

She wore a simple day gown that was so soft that she could sleep in it if needed. “It’ll make you feel better.”

His eyes drooped in her direction, “Nothing can.” Then, he let himself fall to the cot.

The princess crossed the room, eyes rolling but concern glinting, “Don’t be dramatic.” From behind, she pulled him up to a seat and, gods, was he heavy. As she whispered small encouragements, he let her pull him to a wobbly stand and towards the tub. The water was bubbly and he looked at her with absent accusation.

And bashfully, she admitted it, “I prefer bubble baths.”

Link didn’t say anything and simply stared.

“What?” Zelda felt suddenly insecure.

Tiredly, he drew in a breath, “I have to undress, Princess.”

“Oh!” she spun on her heel, face aflame. “Right.”

Clothes were heard being discarded and she could make out his tired voice, “Zelda, don’t look.”

“Oh, shush.”

He laughed and the water moved as he got in. The water was still steaming when she got out and it no doubt felt nice on his skin. And, quite unfortunately, the thought practically returned the thick blush of a fever. Busying herself with the book about the milk maid, she looked through the parts she never got the chance to read herself. He had finished the book for her last night and as she skimmed the pages, she could hear his voice read the words.

“I liked this book,” she said with a passing breeze in her tone. He hummed, “I think I did too.”

A smile played on her lips, “What was your favorite part?”

Link thought for a moment, “When you would grip the covers whenever the highwayman was in danger.”

Afterward, Zelda listened as he dunked his head underwater.

“Zelda,” he sounded frustrated. “I… I can’t reach my head.”

“What?”

“Whenever I try to wash my hair, I feel like passing out. And I really don’t want to pass out in water.”

She blinked at the wall, “Do you want me to wash your hair?”

“You don’t have to. I just don’t want you to yell at me when you see that my hair is still greasy.”

“Can I wash your hair for you?”

A beat of silence went by and then, “… I suppose.”

Zelda took the back of the old chair at her bedside and dragged in over, careful to not look at the tub unless absolutely necessarily. At most, she glanced at the wood. Link sat with his back to her. Thankfully, the bubble bath was an ingenious invention because the only thing she could see was the midpoint of his torso and his knees jutting out of the water. Even if she stared, she probably couldn’t spy anything… not that she would, that is.

“Hand me the soap,” she gently commanded as she sat.

He did and she ran a hand experimentally through a portion of his hair. The locks were wet and free, partially stuck to his neck. She spilled a generous amount of shampoo on her hand and lathered it between her palms. Then she began to entangle her fingers in his scalp and brushed.

“You didn’t touch your soup last night or today,” she stated plainly, “That’s why the heat is getting to you.”

“I wasn’t hungry,” it sounded more like a weak complaint. The princess bit the inside of her cheek and tried unsuccessfully not to look down at the water running along his neck. Admittedly, he was very pretty to look at – from behind, at least. Zelda was a simple woman, she appreciated the male physique, and his back muscles were very appreciable.

Her fingers were tender and forgiving in hair that hadn’t been properly brushed in days. So much so, that he leaned into her touch. When they found a tangled knot, she worked at it without pulling until it came free. Far too soon, she pulled away.

“Okay,” Zelda pronounced. “Dunk into the water and I’ll shake the soap out.”

He nodded, sidling into the water until fully submerged. Tautly, she ran her hands through his hair and laughed as bubbles of soap and his breath came to the surface. Eventually he came back up, breathing in air.

“Thank you.”

She nodded without him seeing and went back to the book while he scrubbed up. Once he was dressed, he allowed her to know and she turned with a question on her lips, “Would you prefer the bed? I wouldn’t mind sleeping on the cot if it meant you were warmer.”

Even then, she watched him shiver out a tentative no.

“You need it more,” Link straightened out the blanket on the cot.

“That’s not true,” she moved to the edge of the bed. “I don’t have a fever anymore. You do.”

He shook his head and croaked out, “I’m fine.”

“We can share it. It’s big enough, Link.”

Of course, he hesitated. It was a large bed with comfortable pillows and a mass of quilts. Not to mention, an inviting princess looking at him with doe eyes. But…

Zelda sat with her legs tucked under her, “The door’s locked. No one would find out.”

He let go of the cot’s blanket and walked to the bed; she smiled and pulled back the covers on his side. Without words, they rearranged the pillows so she wouldn’t hoard them all and Zelda reached for the lantern.

“Goodnight, Link.”

“Goodnight, Zelda.”

For the first time in their isolation, Link didn’t dare continue his routine of sneaking forehead kisses once she was asleep. He was far too tired and the newfound comfort of a proper mattress with all too enticing. Although, as he floating into a dream, he could have sworn someone had cupped his cheek and warm lips kissed his forehead.

#i tried talking myself into making this a smut but i couldn't do it #bc as we all know im a coward #we been knew #ily anon #ashleyswrittenwords #zelink #zelda #link #loz #legend of zelda #loz fanfiction #zelink fanfiction #zelink oneshot

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angelsunflowers-fanfics · 4 years

Text

Nathan Prescott x Female!reader (The Sketchbook incident)

Request: I had this idea for a Nathan Prescott and female reader imagine where he’s secretly her muse and she drawing him every day in her sketchbook but one day he sees and destroys her sketchbook and she gets so upset she stops drawing and he feels bad and realizes how special it was to her and buys her a new one Sorry if that long, it’s my first time Also love your writing <3

Fandom: Life is strange

Genre: Mix of Angst and fluff (Happy ending)

Linktree

~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Rough sketches, pencil marks, pen and an assortment of colors rubbed onto her fingers and arms as she shaded in a certain area of the model, of her picture of Nathan. As an artist, (y/n) needed a muse and without his knowledge, she had chosen Nathan Prescott to be it. She didn’t know how he’d react if he even found out. Would he be embarrassed? Angry?

Who knew?

(y/n) grunted in an effort as she finally finished shading the base of Nathan’s neck in her beloved sketchbook. The book itself had been used and filled up to the brim with photographs and sketches of the school, her friends but most importantly, of Nathan.

The two didn’t talk very often, but she saw how soft he could actually be; in the little moments, he let his facade vanish. She wanted to be closer to him, but… How do you approach a person like that? Not to mention, that he had a reputation for going too far.

(y/n) pulled herself away from the sketch, glancing around at the yard to admire everyone enjoying life peacefully.

Max was talking to a few people as always, being a bit nosy, but nice. Evan was taking pictures, Warren was probably watching another weird movie of his in his dorm. Everything was pretty normal except for Nathan Prescott storming up to (y/n) with rage-filled eyes and clenched fists. He was angry, anybody within 50 feet of his could see that. He was too obvious with his anger, didn’t even try to hide it.

(Y/n) gave a polite smile to the obviously Pissed off Prescott, nervous about what he might say or do. He could be a bit unpredictable. He stopped in front of her, glaring at the large sketchbook in her hands.

“Good morning Nathan. Lovely day, isn’t it?” (y/n) asked.

Nathan only continued to glare harshly, the students in the surrounding area began to stare In curiosity.

No one dared to say a word, they didn’t want the wrath of Nathan directed toward them.

He dug a hand into his pocket to fish out his phone, he found the photo that could be the cause of his anger of the day and shoved it into (y/n’s) face. It took her a moment to realize that the photograph was of one of her drawings of Nathan.

And she knew exactly how it got onto the web. Victoria Chase.

“What the fuck is this?” He asked, anger seethed into his words.

(y/n) nervously laughed but soon stared up at his eyes. Those gorgeous blue eyes and that pretty dirty blonde hair wasn’t helping. It was the perfect combination. There didn’t need to be a reason as to why she liked to draw him so much, the pretty face and different expressions he used in day-to-day life were amazing. So was he. (y/n) wanted to find a way to tell him that she actually liked him but knowing Nathan, she wasn’t sure if he would recuperate her feelings.

“Um, a drawing of you that I made… Nathan, I’m sorry. I showed it to Victoria, I didn’t know that she took a picture and posted it online,” She confessed.

The taller boy slowly pocketed his phone before he grabbed the sketchbook out of (y/n)’s nimble fingers.

“Wait, what are you doing?” (y/n) asked, panic seeped into her chest.

Nathan tossed the sketchbook into the trash can before lighting a match, (y/n) stood up quickly knowing what he was going to do. (y/n) rushed to him, trying to grab the match out of his hand but failing in the end as he dropped it into the trash can watching the sketchbook go up in flames.

The students surrounding (y/n), stared at her with empathy but didn’t say a word. Nathan slowly turned to (y/n), crossing his arms over his chest. He still looked angry, even after destroying the one thing that (y/n) held precious.

“I’m not your subject to use,” Nathan growled.

Nathan glanced into (y/n)’s eyes just in time to see her tears building up and drip from the pools in her eyes. Nathan felt a strike go through his heart, guilt. An ugly emotion that he felt all too often, but now toward (y/n)? Someone who was actually nice to him no matter what other people told her?

He clenched his jaw in anger, this time toward himself. He watched as (y/n) slowly turned around and walked into the dormitory building, needing to be alone for a while. He made her cry. Nathan Prescott made (y/n) cry. He messed up, big time. Was there even a way to fix what he broke?

The group surrounding Nathan slowly disbanded, not wanting his anger to blow up again in such a short period of time.

Nathan was left alone with his thoughts, he ran a hand over his face and picked up his phone as it rang. Victoria. Fuck, what was he supposed to say?

“Hey,” Nathan whispered, his voice hoarse.

Nathan slowly trudged back to his own dorm, he had thinking to do indeed. How was he going to make this up?

“Nathan, what the hell happened? Did you burn her sketchbook? I told you to go talk to her. There are videos all over social media… The comments are brutal,” Victoria said.

Nathan barreled into his room and sat on his bed, running a hand through his hair to tangle it lightly. He didn’t know what he was thinking. If he was thinking at all during that moment. The sketchbook that he burned… sketchbook, maybe he could try to make it up by buying her another one? It was a start…

Nathan and Victoria conversed over his previous actions and how he could fix them while (y/n) on the other side of the dormitory building, stared out the window, wanting to fly away to get away from these gross feelings. Even after what happened, she still liked him. Anybody that found out about her feelings would call her insane. She had no will to draw anymore, what was the point if her own muse didn’t want to be drawn? Right?

She fumbled with her fingers lightly before glancing at her watch, great. She had physics in 10 minutes, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about art for a while now. She slowly grabbed the bag she threw onto the ground and slowly left the dormitory building, hesitantly. If it were her choice, she’d stay in her dorm all day, but she didn’t.

She slowly trudged into the academic building and into her class, wait. No. Nathan was in this class as well, how did she not realize that sooner? (y/n) ignored Nathan’s pleading stare and sat next to Victoria, hoping for some peace and quiet before class started.

“He feels awful you know. I know what he did was terrible but–” (y/n) shrugged her shoulders, cutting off Victoria’s plea.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m done,” (y/n) whispered.

Victoria glanced to Nathan, giving him a pity look before turning her attention to the front of the class as it finally began. Maybe she and Nathan could try again later.

The class was boring and dull. All Nathan could think about was how to make it up to (y/n). For over a year now he had been trying to get closer to her but each time he talked, everything just blew up in his face.

The bell for the end of class finally rung, Nathan quickly shoved all of his things into his bag before trying to talk to (y/n). She was almost out the door now. So close. Nathan maneuvered to be right in front of her, using his arms to block her from leaving before talking to her.

“Wait, just stop for a second. Look, I feel real–” Nathan spoke, regret spilled from his lips.

(y/n) glanced around the room for a moment before ducking under one of his arms and leaving, using his height to her advantage. Nathan blinked for a few moments before leaving the classroom and trying to find a sight of her but (y/n) had quickly disappeared into the crowd of rowdy teenagers.

“Fuck,” Nathan whispered to himself.

The crowd slowly began to disperse as teenagers found their next class or left the building but there was still no sign of (y/n) anywhere. Nathan groaned and slowly walked back to his dorm to try to figure a way to talk to (y/n).

(y/n) on the other hand, was holding her breath as she watched Nathan walk past her hiding spot and to the dormitory building. She stood out of the spot and started to walk to her own dorm when she bumped into Kate Marsh, she was an absolute sweetheart.

“Hey, (y/n). I heard about what happened. Are you alright?” Kate asked.

(y/n) brushed her hair back stressfully, she didn’t even know where to begin in what was wrong at the moment. So many things. Too little time.

“Yeah, I just… I didn’t expect him to do that. I’m kind of thinking of giving up drawing,” (y/n) mentioned.

Kate’s eyes widened slightly but that didn’t stop her from pulling a brand new sketchbook from behind her back. (y/n) was slow to grab the item, she had been thinking about not going to Blackwell anymore because of what happened.

“Well, in case you want to pick it up again. You can use that. Okay? Maybe things will turn out alright?” Kate offered.

(y/n) gave Kate a genuine smile before gesturing to the dorms, “I’m gonna head to my room for the night. I’ll see you later.”

Kate stepped out of the way and watched as (Y/n) carried the sketchbook naturally and quickly walked to her dormitory. But what she didn’t know was that all of the girls in the dormitory building had a little surprise in store for her.

(y/n) rubbed her eyes tiredly and walked through the main door of the dormitory to see all of the girls crowding the hallway bearing gifts of the art variety; sketchbooks, pencils, markers, etc. She jumped back lightly at the picture in front of her.

“Um, hey?” (y/n) asked akwardly.

Max was the first to walk out and grab one of (y/n)’s hands, guiding her to the center of the hallway to talk to everyone. (y/n) wasn’t normally very social but with the girls that live in the same building as her? Quite close.

“The video of Nathan burning your sketchbook is everywhere… we just wanted to do something nice for you,” Max said.

(y/n) smiled gratefully and took more sketchbooks from her neighbors. She knew that they were only trying to help but how could someone draw if their muse didn’t want to be a muse? It was difficult to find someone else.

Max grabbed half of the gifts from all of the girls and followed (y/n) into her dorm to put all of the gifts on her desk. She didn’t know if she’d even fill these out at all considering that her will to draw was drained because of what Nathan did…

“Oh, I get it… Nathan was your muse…” Max set everything down, taking a seat on (y/n)’s bed before continuing with her thought, “That’s why you’re not drawing… he gave you the will to draw…” Max gave her friend one last smile before approaching the exit of the dorm. “Oh, before I forget, Warren had something to talk to you about. He’s In his dorm.”

(Y/n) stared at all of the art supplies given to her a few short minutes ago. It was stacked high on the desk, about to topple over. She was happy that her friends cared so much.

Without much thought, (y/n) walked to the boys’ dormitory building to visit a friend. Hopefully, she wouldn’t run into Nathan. She just needed to be careful.

(y/n) walked through the main door to the dormitory building and made a beeline for Warren’s room, she didn’t even bother with knocking on the sophomore’s door and just let herself in. She didn’t want to be caught by Nathan again. She was not ready to face him.

“Warren? Max, said you wanted to see me?” (y/n) called out.

The younger student quickly popped out of his desk chair and strolled up to (y/n), arms spread out for a bear hug. He was the most touchy of the group of friends she had, which was perfectly fine. (y/n) gave him a soft smile before slowly closing the gap and letting him hold her fragile form.

“Everyone said you were having a hard time and then Nathan… I’m sorry. Maybe everything will be better soon?” Warren apologized sympathetically.

(y/n) could only shrug lightly before slowly pulling away, letting herself become comfortable in the small room. But the thought of being in the boy’s dormitory, where Nathan lived, was peaking from the back of her mind. Warren stepped out of her space for a moment before grabbing a pack of oil paints from his desk and slowly handing them to (y/n); cautious to not scare her.

“I got you something, you said that you’ve been wanting to try oil paint for a while now, right?” Warren said.

Though, she wasn’t sure when or if she’d be able to draw again, she appreciates the kind gesture. (y/n) slowly slipped the paints into her bag for safekeeping as she slowly gave Warren a small smile.

“Thanks, Warren… I think I’m gonna head back to my dorm… Sleep everything off. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The younger classmate only nodded lightly and watched as (y/n) slowly walked out of the room to hide away for the rest of the evening. The events of the day were hectic and cruel, all she wanted to do was sleep it off and hope that the morning would be better.

(y/n) peaked around the hallway for a few moments before deciding that it was safe and leaving Warren’s room before heading toward the main entrance of the Dorm building, wanting to find her own dorm before Nathan caught onto the fact that she was even in the same building as him.

She breathed a small sigh of relief as she slowly started to pass the last dorm room and reached a hand out for the door when a pair of hands reached out from the last dorm and grabbed (y/n) to pull her inside.

(y/n) started thrashing in the arms of her unknown attacker as they placed a hand over her mouth so she couldn’t scream out for help. (y/n) stiffened as an exhale slowly reached her ear, causing her to shiver and listen closely.

“Stop squirming, It’s just me.”

(y/n) roughly shoved Nathan away and faced him, her back pressed against the door. She stared up at him with a confused stare, why did he basically kidnap her? What for? He was fidgeting with his fingers nervously, he was scared to what will come next.

Her eyes were red and puffy from crying all day. The last thing she wanted to do was face the cause of her sorrow. Nathan Prescott, prestigious figure of Blackwell Academy… he was flustered by her mere appearance. He felt guilty about what happened this morning, he felt lower than low. To make it up to (y/n), Nathan wanted to get something for her… all she needed to do was open it.

“What do you want, Nathan? I should get back to my dorm, it’s late,” (y/n) said resentfully.

It was not late, but everyone knew that (y/n) usually liked to return to her dorm after school and relax instead of partying like all of the other kids on campus.

Nathan took a step back to grab a wrapped box before presenting it to (y/n), a red hue was covering his features. He had never really apologized to someone, this was a first for him. Luckily, it was in the comfort of his own room and not the courtyard for everyone to see… again.

“Open it, please. This is my way of saying sorry… I… wasn’t thinking… I can be reckless and irritable…” He apologized.

(y/n) stared up at Nathan with an unknown look, she was not sure if she should take the gift. It could be anything, right? But Nathan didn’t go around giving just anybody random gifts… Maybe he really just wanted to try to redeem himself?

(y/n) ran a quick hand through her hair before making the mistake of glancing into Nathan’s eyes for a split second. His gaze was soft and pleading as he held the gift in his hands, his breath shaking only in the slightest from the nervousness of being near (y/n) once again; so soon.

“Fine… But if this is a joke–” (y/n) started to threaten but Nathan cut her off by carefully handing the recklessly wrapped gift into (y/n)’s paint-covered hands, their fingers brushed together lightly. The action quickly sent jolts of electricity through her and Nathan’s veins but neither person said a word about what they felt, too scared.

“It’s not. Promise. Open it,” Nathan said.

(y/n) sighed lightly but gave him a half-smile before slowly opening the present before her hands run over the cover of a brand new sketchbook. Did he buy her a new sketchbook? She slowly let the wrapping paper fall to the floor so she could look at the sketchbook as whole, quickly glancing through the paper and the little accessories attached to it. (y/n) didn’t say a word as she discovered the feeling of the new gift.

“I was angry and scared… Not about you or anything you did or said… I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I would never dream of doing that,” Nathan apologized.

(y/n)’s smile brightened as she realized that this was the sketchbook that she had been eyeballing for months now. She wasn’t able to buy it because it was far out of her price range for a sketchbook, but this one was special. It even came with pockets and sketching pencils. She glanced up and slowly placed the sketchbook onto his desk to grab both of his hands in her gentle grip.

“Nathan… I-” He was quick to cut her off, paranoid that she was going to yell at him like just about everyone in his life did. He was too used to it by now.

“I know that this will never replace what I did to your last sketchbook and I didn’t realize that I was your… Your muse. But I’m hoping that this will be a star–”

(y/n) reached her hands up to grab Nathan’s face to slam her lips onto his, surprising him surely. Nathan flailed his arms for a few moments before deciding to rest his hands; one on the door next to (y/n)’s head and the other tangled in her hair. Nathan slowly relaxed into the motions, pressing his body closer to (y/n)’s.

Nathan tugged on (y/n)’s hair as he deepened the kiss, eliciting a soft moan from (y/n)’s lips. Before Nathan could ponder on the small action further, she bit down on his bottom lip. She wanted him to know how long she had been wanting this kiss to happen.

Nathan felt the same way, but before things could escalate, (y/n) softly slid her hands from Nathan’s face down to his chest to lightly push him away. She didn’t want things to go too far tonight.

“I forgive you… I was never angry at you for what you did, just sad. It hurt to see my muse destroy my work but maybe you can help me?” (y/n) asked.

Nathan didn’t say a word as he launched himself to his bed, propping his head up with one of his hands as he brought one of his knees up; turning to the side to face (Y/n). a small smirk ignited his face as he says the simple line that made (y/n) burst out laughing.

“Draw me like one of your french girls.”

(y/n) ignored her phone as it lit up with a few texts from Warren and Max, both worried. But she couldn’t be bothered with the sweet scene in front of her.

Maybe everything would be okay?

(y/n) glanced up from her sketchbook to get a quick glance, the growing confidence in him caused Nathan to send a small smile her way.

Yep, everything was going to turn out okay. Her muse was still hers, this time with his knowledge.

Nathan liked the idea of being a muse, it felt foreign but fitting.

#nathan prescott #nathan prescott x reader #Life is strange #Life is strange x reader

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not-close-to-straight · 4 years

Text

Static (Spideypool)

(Based on THIS PROMPT)

THERE’S MORE SPIDEYPOOL ON MY MASTERLIST

****************

Peter...Peter heard everything.

Well, heard wasn't exactly the right word.

Peter felt....

...everything.

Sometimes it was a physical feeling, like bugs on his skin if someone around him was uncomfortable. Sometimes it was hard to swallow, hard to breathe if he was at a crime scene and the people were terrified.

Sometimes it was the feeling of being stared at even if no one was looking, the feeling of eyes watching, and eventually Peter realized that was the feeling of anxiety, of nervous.

Before the spider, it hadn't been as bad. Peter would get the buggy feeling when May would clear her throat and try to have one of Those Talks, or he'd walk through the halls at school and brush past someone and suddenly he felt like everyone was looking.

After the spider, the feeling amplified, magnified, until Peter couldn't deny something was off, something was wrong, he was feeling too much.

Empath was the word the internet gave him. Empath, he felt what other people felt. But empath didn't seem like a big enough word, not even close.

The first time Peter pulled a little girl from a house fire, she wasn't even crying, wasn't even screaming, she was just terrified and still and Peter's muscles locked up, his legs giving out with heart stopping, core deep fear.

The day he webbed a gun out of someone's hands to stop a mugging and the baddie turned to him and shouted, Peter felt the wall of rage as if he'd ran right into it.

It was too much and empath was not a big enough word for what was happening.

Peter learned to tune most of it out. He altered his suit so he couldn't really feel anything physical in case someone touched him, wore headphones that played white noise so he wouldn't have to hear the fear in people's voices, meditated so when he got bowled over by the mental noise of someone's scattered mind, he could pull himself out of the spiral.

It was exhausting.

Peter's friends assumed he stopped hanging around because he was busy with school and work, the Avengers assumed he never came by because he wanted to do the whole lone gun slinger act, and Aunt May assumed he kept his distance because he was busy being Spider-man.

They didn't know that Peter couldn't handle Harry's anxiety or MJ's insecurity or the way Gwen worried and worried and worried. He couldn't stomach the sting of Iron Man's blase attitude because it covered so much anger, and he couldn't handle the sadness in Aunt May that had always been there before Uncle Ben passed, but after Uncle Ben, the sadness was strangling and Peter--

--god, he just couldn't handle it.

So Peter retreated away behind his mask, there and gone when he had to save someone, avoiding friends and family, lonely in his tiny apartment but unwilling to step outside and risk being overwhelmed by everything everyone in the entire goddamn world was putting out in the universe.

Lonely.

Empath wasn't a big enough word to cover the loneliness of feeling what everyone else felt.

******

Deadpool was loud and proud and obnoxious on about eight thousand different levels. He laughed and he talked and he teased and poked and prodded and got on every single on of Peter's last nerves and then managed to turn around and be sweet to kids or stop to rescue animals or to beat the hell outta someone who messed with the nice lady that owned the flower shop.

Deadpool was all over the place, talking to Peter, talking to himself, talking to the voices in his head that never seemed to let him rest. And Peter felt bad about it, but he had to wear his white noise headphones around Wade, had to tune out alot of what the Merc said, had to wear his gloves all the time to dull any accidental touches.

Peter knew Wade was just as lonely, just as touch starved as he was, but he couldn't risk the strain on his mind and emotions to open up to Deadpool. He wouldn't survive feeling the pain that skittered beneath Wade's skin every day, or the awful headaches that Wade tried to laugh off, or the way the Merc swung between manic and depressed and back again for a stop along every marker on that spectrum.

Peter knew he couldn't handle it, so even though he ached to take some of the stress from Wade, ached to share some of the burden the Merc handled every single day--

Peter kept his distance. He had to preserve his sanity, his mental health, his emotional health--

Peter kept his distance.

Wade understood, or at least he said he understood, but that didn't make it any easier to stay away when their conversations turned serious and when the night fell into morning and Peter wanted nothing more than to slide over and rest his head on Wade's shoulder. Wade must have reached for Peter's hand a hundred different times, stopping himself just short of touching and one night when they were eating, Wade reached over and wiped the crumbs from Peter's face and then froze--

"Shit, baby boy, I'm sorry. I know you can't handle being touched."

"It's fine." Peter shook his head quickly, the brush of Wade's fingers too quick to even have registered. "It's fine, don't worry about it."

"Yeah?" Wade swallowed. "My skin doesn't bother you?"

"No, it's not that." Peter took another bite of his burger. "You know, it's the empath thing. I want to be able to touch you but I--"

"I get it." Wade assured him. "Normal people set off everything in your head, someone like me would probably make your brain explode. It's alright."

"Well, I mean." Peter shrugged self consciously. "It's not. Sorta sucks that I can spend every day with you but can't get closer than this. That I wear my white noise headphones to block out everything when really I just want to--"

"You're not wearing your headphones, Pete."

"...what?" Peter felt around his head, then widened his eyes. "Oh my god, I'm not wearing my headphones."

"Nah, you dropped them when you took off your backpack." Wade motioned behind them vaguely. "I figured you decided not to wear them today. The noise isn't bothering you?"

"I um--" Peter cocked his head and frowned. "I don't hear anything. My heads just sort of... sort of staticky."

"Sounds awful."

"No." Peter put his food down and closed his eyes to listen. "No, it's wonderful. Wade, you don't understand. Usually I hear everything, or feel everything and it hurts my head but I don't hear anything right now. It's-- this is-- it's so nice."

"That's great, sweet cheeks." Wade blew the web slinger a kiss and sauntered over towards the far end of the roof to get his bag. "By the way, I bought you something at a souvenir shop yesterday. Full disclosure, it's terrible, but I thought it would make you laugh so--"

Noise rushed in and Peter cried out loud, clapping his hands over his ears. "Oh my god! Oh my--"

Rage, from someone in the apartment below, fear from the other person in the room. Laughter, eyes staring, someone watching, too close too close, someone was touching, anxiety, nervous, giddy, fear--

Peter curled over into himself and shouted, "Wade! My headphones! Please!"

"Come here, baby." Wade was suddenly back at Peter's side, wrapping both arms around him and hauling him close. "Okay I know you don't want to hear what's in my head but it should be loud enough to drown out everything else, come here."

Wade yanked Peter's gloves off and shoved his own shirt up so Peter could touch skin, then flattened his palms over Peter's ears as if it would drown out the noise.

And Peter went still immediately.

He went still immediately and Wade waited with bated breath for the disgust, for the recoil, for Peter to look up with those beautifully wide eyes and wonder what the fuck was wrong with him.

"Oh my god, you feel good."

Okay well Wade hadn't been expecting that, nor was he expecting Peter to moan quietly and to press even closer, his fingers digging into Wade's side to clutch him tight.

"I-- I what? I what? Why are you the one talking crazy right now?”

"You feel good." Peter hooked a foot behind Wade's knee and took him down to the roof with no effort at all, and even though Wade oophed when he hit the rooftop, he didn't have time to care much as Peter crawled up his body and straddled his chest, tucking that adorable nose right into Wade's neck.

"...Pete? What um-- what are you doing?”

"The static is you." Peter laughed quietly and wriggled closer. "I thought I was wearing my headphones cos I couldn't hear anything, but the second you walked away, all the noise came back. The static is you."

"You're telling me I'm so damn crazy that it just translates to static when you hear it?" Wade teased and Peter pulled away to stare down at him.

"I'm telling you that you're the only person I've ever met that doesn't hurt me to be around. Whatever your mutation is, whatever you have going on-- it scrambles my senses and mutes everything else."

"Pete--"

"All I can feel is you." Peter breathed, and he looked almost close to tears. "All I feel is you babe. Do you know how amazing that is?"

Wade ran his hands up Peter's back to tangle in the thick hair and drag him down for a much a-waited, much longed for kiss.

"Yeah, baby boy." he said hoarsely. "I sure do."

****************

@ships-galore @ceealaina @izziebladez @cwar1864 @hausoffro @lookuplaughing @tonystarkisanangel @multishippinglife @girlnic @iam93percentstardust @water-colouredmemories @paranormalmoonlight5 @igotloki @moosette05 @wayward-student-philosopher @kaz-brekkers-gloves @atomicfandombomb @desitonystark @1fuckingshitup69 @agentlokii

#ncts fics #spideypool #sundays with spideypool #peter parker #wade wilson

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permanentlyexhaustedpossum · 5 years

Text

In Another Age

The appearance of Hashirama jarred him far more than he would ever be willing to admit. Madara felt his anxiety spike, terror swirling in his gut. He did not fear Hashirama. No, that would be highly inaccurate considering they were evenly matched in their prior lives.

He feared that Hashirama would take Tobirama away from him. That Tobirama would leave him for Hashirama's side. His hand shot over and snatched Tobirama's despite the publicness of their situation. His fingers squeezed almost too hard at the pale, long fingers he had grown to love. Madara felt Tobirama's red gaze snap to him, and the chakra building behind his own eyes, dying them crimson.

Madara shook where he stood.

Tobirama might leave him... even after all they had been through...

It all came back to him too quickly. Starting at the beginning...

He had been skipping rocks at the lake. Frustrated with being torn into the future by some unknown entity and homeless. Friendless. But worse of all, directionless. Madara was just a shinobi living in a world of civilians who neither knew nor cared what shinobi were. It was on that bank, that evening by the water's edge they met.

"Old habits die hard." A familiar voice from the past that Madara recognized without fail. He turned.

"Tobirama." The taller male approached in the evening light, jogging pants and a tshirt. Madara turned back and skipped another stone. He wouldn't admit the relief in his chest. The pale Senju was the first shinobi Madara had encountered here. When he thought he was utterly alone.

And when the other shinobi had found out he was homeless and living out of his car...

".. you're.. not serious."

"It doesn't matter. I am free to do what I want."

"So you're jobless too."

"Hmph." Madara crossed his arms and looked out the coffee shop window. They met here nearly every evening now. Tobirama rose, pulling his bag over his shoulder.

"Come on." A strong hand gripped Madara's arm and pulled him from his seat.

"W-what are you doing? Where are we going?"

"Just.. come on."

Madara moved in with Tobirama that night, taking residence up on the couch of the small apartment littered with stacks and stacks of books. He had agreed to stay one night. But one turned into.. months.

And Tobirama's break up came smashing back into Madara's mind...

"SHE WHAT?" Madara turned, watching Tobirama slump onto the floor in front of the couch with a sigh.

"It's fine Madara."

"No. That LYING WHORE." Madara could feel his rage building. "What-what are you doing? Get off the floor!"

"This is your bed-" Tobirama protested as Madara drug him up by the arms onto the couch, moving his sleeping bag out of the way.

Tobirama had been so heartbroken even if the man never mentioned a word further. But the break up had opened up a whole new side of the Senju to him...

It had never occurred to Madara how soft Tobirama looked under florescent kitchen lighting. Or reading by the window in the rainy fall afternoon. Or napping by accident on the couch, book half falling off his lap. Not until weeks after the break up did Madara realize the feelings welling up in his chest.

Other than cleaning, Madara had done nothing to return the favor of Tobirama taking him in and housing him. Feeding him. Clothing him..

He went out and applied for the police force the next day.

The Uchiha still remembered the look of surprise on Tobirama's pale face when he had told him he'd applied and been accepted.

"Where are your markings?" Tobirama looked up from his book at Madara from the window sill. Madara set his police belt down on the counter and looked up.

"I conceal them with make up. They.. are not accepted in this time period."

A pause.

"I liked them." Madara blurted. "You're...not the same without them. They.. suit you." Tobirama blinked at him but neither said another word about it.

Madara thought about the ocean and the look on Tobirama's face.

It was an early "Christmas" gift, Madara had inquired about the Senju's love of water and had been astonished to know Tobirama had yet to see the ocean. Even in this future he was certain they were stuck in together.

But the wide red eyed, moonchild before him was more beautiful in his awe than Madara had ever seen him. He memorized the way the salty wind blew Tobirama's soft white locks, the way he seemed to breathe deeper.. easier.. in the presence of seemingly endless body of water. The way he gravitated towards it only to stop at the lapping seafoam. Madara's heart yearned. He reached.

But in his hesitation, he grabbed Tobirama's arm instead of his hand and dragged him into the waves, clothes and all.

The pure joy on the man's face was payment enough for Madara. They went back nearly every other weekend.

A million memories rolled through back to back in the presence of the tall, tan threat.

Their first kiss, gentle and soft and leading to a thousand other kisses right after. The way Madara had always imagined love would be.

The day after when Tobirama left his room without concealer. Bright red marks on display. And the way it made Madara feel proud.

A week later when Madara graduated the Police Academy and Tobirama was in attendance.

The night they'd shared a bed for the first time and woke up a tangled mess in the morning.

The trust that was built.

The way Tobirama laughed.

The feel and soft smell of coconut oil cream as Madara's hands gently rubbed it into every inch of Tobirama's skin. And the way this became common place.. a routine.

The way Tobirama felt soothing. Felt strong. Felt.. like home.

"Don't leave me." Madara breathed with fresh terror as Hashirama's initial happiness at seeing them was replaced by stark confusion and question in his eyes.

Tobirama wasn't ready. It had been years since being thrown into this future timeline, and a whole year since he had given up on finding Hashirama or creating a jutsu to go home. And yet... his older brother was here now. Standing in front of him just waiting for him. Or perhaps waiting for Madara.

Hashirama had always chosen Madara over him. Over their clan. Over their family. Uneasiness crept into the Senju's skin, his heart pounding in his chest. With Hashirama here.. Madara would leave him to be by Hashirama's side.

The burning behind his eyes made him take a deep breath. But it did nothing to stop the memories from playing back.

He'd been out jogging, trying to drown out the idea that maybe.. just maybe taking his life was better than living without purpose. No one to relate to. No family. No way to get back to his own timeline. It was the odd sensation of not-so-hot-low-boil chakra that made him stop. It was the sound of skipping stones on water that made him approach to investigate.

And meeting with Madara had changed his life..

The day in and day out drone of paperwork and study without a lab was tedious. Monotonous and boring. Meeting the Uchiha.. the only other shinobi he had found after years of searching, was enough to keep him awake. It was in quiet coffee shop moments that he felt most alive.

Tobirama had been floored when he was faced with evidence that Madara had been living out of his car.

The crumpled shirts, old garments that were well worn. The extra tangledness of his hair, the way he would clean under his fingernails with his coffee stirrer. The way he ordered water, the only free thing on the menu, or the cheapest options and ate little.

Tobirama had it in his head to help him. After all, Madara more or less had saved him from himself. From lonliness. From depression.

The rest came back in patches and blurs.

The break up. The way Madara felt so warm against his side on the couch.

The gift of the ocean Tobirama had not even thought about going to since being in this future.

The way Madara was wild and domestic all at the same time. His hair in a long ponytail, mopping the tiny apartment floor.

The random movie night they'd stayed up late watching some garbage monster movie on tv. The way the tv light lit Madara's face in cool light. He had caught Tobirama staring, and turned to say something but the Senju had acted on instinct. He leaned forward, brushing their noses together and paused for consent.

Madara had thought about it only half a second before closing the distance.

The way his anxiety mounted high as he left his room without concealer for the first time in years. And the subsequent dying of it when Madara truly smiled at him for it.

The pride he had for Madara each night he came home after his shift. Or each morning.

The way Madara would hum to himself as he cooked.

The kindness they found between each other.

The night their hands couldn't let go of each other. And kisses turned to love making. Waking up with Madara in his arms, mass of hair tucked between them. The way Madara never slept on the couch again after that.

The warm-bubbly-cozy heat chakra that seeped into Tobirama's skin with the coconut oil cream. The absolute contentment that melted into his skin under Madara's hands.

The routine they had made.

All of it would be gone if Madara decided to-

The sharp snatch of his hand caught his attention and Tobirama's gaze snapped to his partner. It was unlike Madara to be affectionate in public, but he was grateful.

"Don't leave me." Madara's voice held a sharp tremor that even the Uchiha couldn't hide. Tobirama's eyes widened. Madara thought Tobirama would leave him?

His heart swelled, fears eased. Both strong hands darted out, twisting Madara to look at him instead of his brother. Sharingan swirled, and Tobirama looked into them without hesitation. He pressed his lips to the Uchiha's, cupping his face on either side. When he pulled away, Tobirama whispered,

"Not for the world." The words tumbled from his lips before he could catch them, and as he felt the heat rise in his face and tips of his ears, he snatched Madara by the hand and took a giant stride forward. Ignoring the elated-bright-burning-sunrise-bonfire heat building behind him in his partner.

"Anija." He greeted, dragging Madara behind him with an air of confident defiance. No one would take Madara from him. No one.

@madatobiweek for the time travel prompt?

#madara #tobirama #madara uchiha #tobirama senju #tobiramasenju #konoha founders #madatobiweek2019

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peanutbuttercreamjelly · 5 years

Text

Red Wine: Breakfast - Conor Maynard

Word Count: 3376

Warnings: NSFW content under the cut

So, the Red Wine Series has gotten a part two finally! Please let me know how you liked it, comment, and maybe reblog?

Conor woke up when warm rays of sunlight were filling his bedroom with a golden light. He smiled when he saw that Vee was still peacefully asleep, her hand brushing his lightly as she faced him. They must have stayed like that for most of the night. Conor admired her relaxed features, relieved that last night had not been a dream. He frowned a bit after he realized what had happened. He had kissed his brother’s best friend. He wasn’t sure whether Jack would be so fond of that. But, he reminded himself, she had kissed back, and she had smiled into the kiss. And she had cuddled him until the both went to his bed. It had felt so damn good, in fact, it still felt amazing to have her next to him like that. He decided that he would try not worry so much about it now, he would just enjoy having her in his bed, all his, at least for this moment. He didn’t dare to move, for he didn’t want to wake her up. She was slowly getting used to the different time zone, but he thought that she still had some sleep to catch up to.

Conor tried to focus on how peaceful she looked, so he didn’t have to think about what would happen next. Should he kiss her, when she woke up? He really wanted to, remembering how soft and amazing her lips had felt on his. But did she want him to?

“Did you watch me sleep?”, Vee whispered, startling him. Conor had been so lost in thought that he didn’t notice her waking up.

“Er… no?”, Conor said, grinning at her because he had been caught red-handed. Vee giggled, making Conor feel butterflies in his stomach.

What they did now, was coming so naturally that Conor wondered how he could have ever questioned it. Vee snuggled up to him, touching his cheek lightly as she beamed up at him. He cupped her face with his hand carefully, before he finally pressed his lips to hers. Although it was barely more than a peck, it felt just like it had the night before. The butterflies in his stomach were revolting now, and although that made him feel excited and giddy, having Vee here calmed him down deep within. He never felt something as confusing before. He didn’t mind though, he got to kiss her, and he could hold her, and that made him very happy.

“Good morning”, Vee said lightly. Conor watched her face light up in the most adorable way.

“Good morning”, he replied. This was by far the best morning he had had in a long time.

Vee laid her head on his chest again, enjoying how she could hear his heartbeat. She snuggled even closer to him tangling one of her legs between his. That was, until she felt something hard at her thigh. She frowned in confusion and glanced up at Conor.

“Is that…?”, she asked, amusement evident in her eyes.

“Sorry”, Conor said and blushed, moving away from her gently.

“Don’t be”, Vee chuckled. Conor was for sure not the first boy she’s been with, so morning wood was something that wasn’t new to her. She knew how to get rid of it, too. Vee contemplated whether she should help him out, or whether that was too early. Conor was important to her, she didn’t want to mess up, especially since things had gone so well until now. She looked up at him again, interpreted the faint glimmer in his eyes as lust and decided to just go with it.

“I could help you out, if you want to”, she said far less confident than it had sounded in her head. She could feel Conor tense up a bit underneath of her, and she was about to take her offer back, when he finally replied.

“You would…?”, Conor said, and swallowed. Vee loved how his face had turned a faint shade of pink, and she was sure that if she had been still in contact with his crotch, the bulge would feel even bigger now.

“Yes”, Vee said, and finally she sounded as confident as she wanted to. Conor smiled up at her, being unusually coy, and nodded.

Vee kissed him, shortly first, then with a bit more passion and tongue. Her right hand found its way in his hair while she began to straddle him, carefully avoiding his sensitive area, so she could kiss him for a bit longer. Her other hand slowly slid down his shirt, while he carefully held her by the waist. She played a bit with the hem of the fabric, until she touched his soft skin underneath of it. Vee felt him inhale a bit sharper at that, making her smile into the kiss.

“Take it off”, Vee whispered between kisses and tugged a bit at his shirt. Conor quickly pulled it over his head, eager to have her lips on his again. Vee let her hand wander over his exposed torso while she kissed him. Conor grabbed her hips a bit tighter this time, letting out a tiny moan when he accidentally pulled her a bit too far up, so she touched his boner. The sound was like music to Vee’s ears, and she couldn’t wait to find out how he’d sound when she sucked him off. She kissed him on the lips once before she moved to kiss his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. She noticed how he had let out another tiny moan as she had kissed that one particular spot, so she brushed her lips over it one more time. It was so tempting to suck on it and leave a mark.

“You have to perform tomorrow, right?”, Vee asked, purposely blowing a bit of warm air over his sweet spot.

“Y-Yes”, Conor breathily replied, one of his hands moving up to touch her hair.

“Pity”, Vee said before she slowly licked over the spot and kissed it one last time, moving further downward. She placed tiny kissed on his skin, starting at the collar bone and continued until she was at the waistband of Conor’s joggers. She let her lips hover over his sensitive skin, watching in awe as he bit his lip. Her eyes didn’t leave his as she cupped his bulge with her hand, earning another sweet moan from him. Both of his hands were now tangled in her hair, and she loved how he carefully played with it while he watched her in awe. Vee got her hands on his joggers, slightly tugging on them. Conor got the hint, moving his back up a bit so she could slide them down his legs, along with his boxers. She swallowed a bit as she saw Conor’s cock spring free and felt a certain ache between her legs as she saw how hard and ready he was. There was a drop of precum leaking from the swollen tip, making Vee wonder how he tasted. She looked back up at him, finding him studying her face. There was a slight expression of worry on his face, so Vee took one of his hands in hers.

“What’s wrong?”, she asked gently.

“I… do you like… it?”, he asked lightly. Vee gently squeezed his hand and nodded.

“Relax”, she said and smiled up at him. Conor did indeed look a bit less insecure, finally letting loose a bit. He cupped her cheek gently, before his hands moved back up to her hair.

She looked at him one more time, silently asking for permission, which she could find in his eyes and in the small smile. So she took his cock in her hand, gently stroking up from base to tip and spread the precum around his head. She could feel him tense up at her actions, and as she looked up to check on him, she found that he had thrown his head back in pleasure. She pumped his cock in her hand for a few more times, before she leaned down to put her mouth on it. She blew a bit of air on his head and the moan that she earned from Conor made her stomach clench. Vee made sure she had eye contact with Conor again, before she placed a gentle kiss on it. Seeing him squirm, hearing him make these heavenly sounds had her moan out in pleasure, too. She brushed her lips up and down his cock before she started to lick the tip lightly, swirling her tongue over his little slit and finally tasting him. She licked his shaft up and down, sometimes slow, sometimes a little bit harder, while her hand played with his balls. Conor was vocal, and Vee loved how his tongue curled around her name. It filled her with pride, how fucked out he already looked, and he had yet to cum.

“Do you like that?”, she asked after she had gently sucked on his tip.

“Y-Yeah”, Conor moaned.

She kept sucking at his tip for a bit, feeling his cock throbbing in her hand.

“I-“, Conor moaned, “I’m close. If you don’t want to get it in your mouth- “

He was cut off by her as she put his cock fully in her mouth, earning the loudest moan yet. She wrapped her hand around the part of him that she could not reach with her lips and began to bob her head up and down. Conor moaned one last time, before he shot his load inside of her mouth, panting as she moved him through his orgasm. Vee swallowed every drop of it, enjoying how Conor looked, sounded and tasted.

When he was done, she let his cock go with a wet ‘pop’ and licked her lips. She smiled at him proudly, having him all sweaty and flushed, all for her.

“That was amazing”, Conor said between his ragged breaths.

Vee beamed up at him, feeling how wet she had become, and nodded.

“I’m going to brush my teeth real quick”, Vee said and squeezed his hand, leaving him to come down from it.

Conor laid in bed for a few more moments, still processing what had happened. This had been the best blowjob he had ever received, by far. Seeing her sucking him off, her full lips wrapped around his cock, her pretty eyes locked with his, her hair a mess, just turned him on so much that he had to be careful not to pop another boner right there. And she was still wearing his shirt. It made the whole thing so much hotter. He took another deep breath, slowly coming down from his high, and decided that he should give her what she had given him, too. So, he got up, put his boxers back on, and went to find Vee in the bathroom.

He gently knocked on the door and entered after Vee had told him to. She was just rinsing her mouth; her hair was still a mess from his hands. He went up to her and wrapped his arms around her frame after he saw her smiling at him in the mirror. She dried her mouth with a towel before she turned around in his arms, flashing him that kind of smile that he had learned to love because it made the butterflies go crazy, once again. He leaned down and kissed her lips that were still plump from the blowie, starting of softly, and as he felt her respond, he let the kiss become gradually more heated. His hands found their way to her waist again, gently playing with the hem of her -his- shirt and touching her skin underneath of it. Vee’s hands moved from his neck to his chest to his waist, leaving his skin tingling in a very nice way. He gently backed her up against the counter, grabbing her bum and lifting her up to set her down onto it. She opened her legs to let him step closer to her, before she hooked them around his waist. Conor pulled away from her lips, making her pout, but he quickly reattached them on her neck. He could feel her breathing speed up even more, while he played with the hem of the shirt again, and finally began to pull it up and off her. His eyes wandered down to her bare body, admiring how perfect she looked to him.

“So pretty”, he mumbled, before he attached his lips to her neck again. Conor still had one hand on her cheek and he felt her face become a bit warmer. When he looked, he could see that she was blushing. He moved his hands slowly up her body, discovering every inch of her skin, when he finally reached her breasts, she moaned out softly, just like the one he had heard from her as she had been going down on him.

“You tell me when you want me to stop, okay?”, Conor whispered in her ear before he softly nibbled on her earlobe. She nodded lightly, before tangling her hands in his hair and lightly pulling on it. He let his lips travel down to her collarbone, before leaning down and placing light kisses on her breasts. Conor gently sucked on one of her nipples, his hand massaged her other breast. She moaned loudly when Conor bit down on her nip carefully and as he looked up to make sure she was moaning out in pleasure and not in pain, he saw how her face looked when she moaned out his name. It was driving him crazy.

He let his lips wander lower, pressing tiny kisses around her bellybutton before he was reaching her leggings. He lightly hooked his thumbs in her waistband, looking up at her for permission. She nodded and helped him to get rid of her leggings and panties, leaving her sitting naked on the counter in front of him.

She subconsciously closed her legs a bit, making him frown. He rubbed comforting circles on her thigh while he looked up at her again.

“You’re so bloody beautiful, do you know that?”, he asked and reached for her hand. She looked at him bashfully, but a small smile played with her lips.

“Trust me”, he whispered and looked up at her. He wasn’t going to do anything that would make her feel uncomfortable. She took a deep breath and nodded, squeezing his hand.

“Okay”, she said and let him spread her legs, finally letting him look at her core. Conor began to place light kisses on her thighs, gradually coming closer to where he could see she’d need him.

“So wet already, just for me”, he said contently before he hooked her legs around his shoulders, so he had better access to her sensitive parts.

He kissed her on her thigh one last time before blowing a bit of hot air to her core. He had absolutely loved it when she had done this to him earlier, and he was pleased to see that this had the same effect on her as well. Her hands tangled themselves in his curls, tugging at them impatiently. He placed his hands at her waist so he could spread her legs apart a little bit more, before he finally, finally got to taster her. He placed a gentle kiss at her clit, making her moan a little. Conor began to lick her slit in slow strokes, enjoying how she moved around him.

“Is that okay?”, he asked in between some strokes.

“Yeah”, she almost moaned. “Keep going.” Her voice cracked a little at the end.

So, Conor proceeded to lick her pussy, varying in speed and intensity, before he finally pushed his tongue inside her. She moaned loudly at that and pulled at his hair, but he loved every second of it. He fucked her with his tongue for a bit, looking for that one spot that would drive her wild. And finally, he found it.

“Con”, Vee cried out in pleasure, “r-right there.” He had a hard time holding her down on the counter right now, because her legs began to shake as he kept hitting that spot.

“I- I’m close”, Vee panted, and as Conor looked up, he could see how she had thrown her head back in pleasure.

What sent her off was Conor’s thumb pressed against her clit along with him hitting that special spot inside of her. She cried out, and he could feel her clenching around his tongue before she finally found her release. He kept licking her through her orgasm and cleaned her up when she was done.

Finally, he grinned up at her and enjoyed how fucked out she looked.

“That was amazing”, she said, before she pulled him back up for a kiss, tasting herself on him.

“You are amazing”, he said as they pulled apart.

“So… do you want to join me in the shower?”, she asked and by the way she looked up at him all innocent, he knew that she really just wanted to shower.

“Sure”, he said and helped her off the counter.

“I might have to borrow some shampoo from you”, she said and grinned at him.

“No way”, he said in mock surprise, before he laid out two big towels.

He held the shower door open for Vee to step in, took his boxers off, and went in right after her.

The rain shower head was big enough so they could both stand under it and nobody got cold. Vee waited until her hair was completely wet, before she reached for the shampoo bottle, but Conor had already grabbed it and poured some of the shampoo on his hands.

“Can I wash your hair?”, he asked with the most adorable grin that Vee had ever seen on him. She turned around so he could reach it, and she thought that he did a really good job. He even massaged her scalp for a bit. When Vee went to return the favour, Conor had to bend down so low that it just looked ridiculous to her. She burst out laughing, and Conor joined in.

“I’m just going to do it”, he said and tried to get the rest of the shampoo from her hands. They joked around for a bit until they were both clean and dry, wrapped up in their towels.

Vee combed through her hair while Conor began to shave his face.

“Don’t you think it’s crazy?”, Vee asked when she was done.

“What?”, Conor turned around, half of his face still covered in shaving cream.

“This”, Vee smiled and motioned first to him, then to her.

“Yes”, Conor smiled and put his razor on the counter, “but I like crazy.” He then pulled her into a kiss and when he pulled away, Vee’s face was also partially covered in shaving cream. She giggled.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Vee?”, Conor asked and trusted his gut, “do you want to be my girlfriend?”

And there was that smile again, one that had her all weak in the knees. It was becoming her favourite right now. It also made any doubt about asking her too soon disappear.

“Yes”, she whispered and pulled him in for another kiss, one full of smiling and shaving cream. When they parted, Conor pulled her into him by her waist and looked at them in the mirror. There was shaving cream smeared over both of their faces, but other than that, they looked very happy.

Vee tried to get most of the shaving cream from her face, and when she had it in her hands, she smeared it on Conor’s face.

“I believe you weren’t done shaving, boyfriend”, she said and giggled.

Conor really liked the sound of that, so he giggled, too, and resumed to shave his face, while Vee washed the shaving cream of.

“So, what do you want for breakfast, girlfriend?”, he asked her when he was done.

“What’s in your fridge?”, she asked. And as he was silent for a second, she added: “Is there anything in your fridge?”

“Nope, I’m taking you out.”

“Oh, like our first date?”, she asked and hugged him again. “Then I want to have pancakes.”

MASTERPOST FOR THE SERIES

MASTERLIST

#conor maynard #conor maynard imagine #conor maynard smut #conor maynard one shot #conor maynard series #conor maynard writing #buttercream squad #buttercream gang #CM

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eggsy-schmeggsy · 5 years

Text

Not my type at all (eggsy x reader)

He’s got tangled hair and cigarettes cursing like a sailor on the ocean in his eyes

You were to join the kingsmen and to be quite frank it was the most interesting job you’d ever had. Perhaps one of the most interesting people you’d meet since you joined the elite service is your now best friend eggsy. Man did the kid have a mouth though. Every sentence he said sounded straight out of a rated R movie. Yet some how he still managed to be a complete gentleman. It was a weird balance. You remembered when you first had to live with him on a mission trying to scrub the stench of his roommates cigars out of your clothes. It was definitely not something you were used to. His laidbackness was a foreign concept to you and after months of trying to show him how to properly gel his hair and yelling at him for stealing your brush you gave up. The first person to meet eggsy on the street wouldn’t have even guessed he’d be a part of something so important as the kingsmen.

But he’s not my type at all

He’s surely not who you’d expected you’d fall in love with. You two were very different. Besides he had this thing for a princess anyway. It would never work out even if you wanted it to.

Five star dinner with a T-shirt on laughing too loud and a bit too long

However, being friends with eggsy was benificial to you in a lot of ways. Eggsy managed to break you out of your shell. You always went out and did stuff together. One of your favorite things to do was go out and get desert at midnight with eggsy and then stumble in the front door because you were laughing so hard the whole way home. You grew to like him a lot more then you did when you first met him.

He’s got pieces of me wrapped around his finger tips

Anything eggsy needed you to do you were almost instantaneously there. If he needed help with a mission you were there. If he needed a laugh you were there. Even if he needed a hug, which, contrary to popular belief, was a lot, you were there.

Started slow we’re moving quickly to his heaven

You didn’t even want to think about the fact that you may have adapted feelings for eggsy let alone acknowledge them but Harry found out and the whole thing went through the roof. Harry was always bugging you about telling him and he was always talking about how great you are to eggsy. When eggsy finally found out he was over-joyed but wondered why you didn’t tell him sooner.

He’s got a plastic ring on his left hand from his girlfriend and a chip on his shoulder from his mom

though eggsy knew you loved him and that he loved you it didn’t change the fact that he was still in a relationship with a princess. At least until the kingsmen could get a good rep. Because of eggsy growing up with just his mom he always seemed to have a bad attitude when talking with peoples fathers. This, in a way, helped you because he blew it way out of the water when he started talking to the king. Leading to the princess being forbidden to talk to him ever again.

It’s all so right it’s all so wrong probably be gone by the end of this song

Your relationship with eggsy was a mess to say the least. Everything seemed to be in the right place at the wrong time. You knew you loved him but the whole princess ordeal made you feel awful inside. Missions were calling and you figured you’d return to them.

I am something else when he says my name heaven bound I lose myself

Before you’d decided to leave for the new missions eggsy decided to sit down and have a conversation with you. He didn’t want you to leave. Without you realizing it he reached over the table cupped your face and kissed you before it registered. You’d suddenly forgotten about the past. All you knew was you wanted to be with him. Completely forgetting and forgiving the past.

A/N: sorry this is really bad. And yes I changed th lyrics a little because I geared it more toward eggsy. The song is Not My Type At All by Jacob Whitesides. Requests are open please request away!!

#eggsy unwin #eggsy imagine #the kingsmen golden circle #the kingsmen imagines #the kingsmen

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theempressar · 5 years

Text

Valentine’s Day - A Danielle Mini-fic

Valentine's Day Some boys kiss me Some boys hug me I think they're ok If they don't give me proper credit I just walk away

Dani woke up with a slow stretch and tapped her foot to the beat. One of her favorite songs was waking her up today on her retro clock radio with the phone attached. She felt great in her own skin.

She remembered what day it was. The week before was a week of excitement leading up to this most important day in a young girl's life. She smiled as she kicked her feet over the side of the bed and got up doing the twist in her over-sized football jersey.

They can beg and they can plead But they can't see the light (that's right) 'Cause the boy with the cold hard cash Is always Mister Right

She thought about her 'Mr. Right.' Every day had been a special day...just getting to know the boy she once despised when she was a boy herself. She thought back to those days like a distant memory and shook her head. He had proven to her that he was kind and caring and had a huge heart. She thought of his smile. She smiled and her dimple pressed deep into her cheek.

She went to her dresser and pulled open the drawer, immediately tossing clothes to the floor and behind her head.

"Nope...no...not this one....really?" She said looking for something red. Anything red. She knew she should have chosen her outfit the night before but she was too busy daydreaming and trying to get her homework done.

She danced over to her vanity mirror and admired her body for the umpteenth time. She just loved the way she looked now...even if her hair was long and messy and definitely "slept on". She ran her tapered slender fingers through it, combing out some tangles and returned to her task. It was easy to get distracted.

Her phone rang.

"ARRGGHH...not now!!" She picked up the phone, knowing it would be Ali and sure enough, she heard the laughter on the other end of the phone.

"Dani...I know you're heading out the door right now!"

"Uh yeah...give me a minute!"

"Dani we're going to be late and we don't want to be late today!"

"I know, Ali...I know!! I can't wait to see how many carnations and candygrams I get."

There was a groan on the other end of the line.

"Keep rubbing it in. Just 'cause you're the popular girl in school now."

"Oh knock it off. You know I'm only teasing. I bet I don't even get one!" Dani said hopping around the room with the phone in the crook of her neck, pulling up her pink heart, white tights around her waist. She bent over her bed to pull up the slack and smooth them over her legs.

"I bet you get at least one..." Ali said with an unmasked twinge of jealousy in her voice. Dani heard it in her voice and couldn't help but guiltily try and put her at ease. "You know...you're gonna get a bunch too. I'm going to be the first person to buy you a dozen."

"Right...Tiger...you just worry about keeping all those suitors at bay...including the ones with floppy blonde hair and deceiving, dazzling smiles. I'll see you at school. Don't be late!" She hung up the phone.

Danielle settled on a red-hearted turtle neck, long-sleeved shirt and a red jumper coveralls and pink jelly shoes. She didn't care if she looked twelve she was going to be extra cute today. She put on pink lipstick, having perfected the art of applying it and gloss without making too much of a mess. She put on her trademark black fedora and silver bangles. She nodded to herself in the mirror and headed out the door. She grabbed her toast and air-kissed her mom, who was reading the paper and briefly looked up at her daughter, remarking how beautiful she was and for her to be careful.

"I will Ma...love you!"

'Cause we are living in a material world And I am a material girl You know that we are living in a material world And I am a material girl

Dani walked down the hall to her class. Several eyes turned to follow her. It seemed to be the usual. Dani was used to it by now. She smiled and went to her locker and got her books and pocketed the few notes that were stuck in the metal slats. She was sure they were notes from Johnny and she couldn't wait to go some place quiet to read them. They were folded like those triangle football things they all played with during class. A couple had hearts on them. She closed her locker and jumped back, startled.

Johnny was leaning against the lockers with his arms folded looking back at her with a big silly grin on his face. His boyishly handsome good looks always gave Dani's heart a little jolt these days when she saw him. She smiled but then played it cool, and walked past him waiting for him to catch up.

"So...that's it?" He said following after her, brushing past a few people in the hallway.

"So what's it?" Dani said without turning to look at him.

"No...Good Morning, Handsome? How did you sleep?" Johnny said trying to snake his arm around Dani's waist possessively to get her to walk close to him down the hallway to class.

She stayed just out of his reach. "Good morning, Handsome...how did you sleep?" She said quickly and bent to get a drink of water at the fountain. She was trying to hide her laugh.

Johnny leaned against the wall, frustrated. He ran a hand through his blonde bangs and willed her to look at him. "You haven't even seen what I'm wearing!" Danielle looked up from the fountain and gave him a 'once-over'. "You look...nice." She said and walked away. He stood there until she turned around, hand on her hip and a sweet smile on her face. She nodded her head toward the classroom. "C'mon Blondie...we're gonna be late."

Johnny caught up and grabbed Dani's books and kissed the top of her forehead. He ushered her into the classroom, holding the door for her and she went to her desk. Johnny stopped and his face fell. Dani turned to see what he was looking at.

Some boys romance Some boys slow dance That's all right with me If they can't raise my interest then I Have to let them be

On her desk was a literal pile of carnations, candygrams, valentine cards, red suckers with the white icing sayings and hearts on them. Boxes of candy hearts were falling off of the desk onto the floor beside it. There were even a couple of balloons tied to her chair. She looked at her desk in awe. She blushed, the pink tinging her brown skin as she went to take her seat at the front of the classroom.

Johnny frowned and looked at her desk again at all of the red and pink and white carnations that everyone had to spend a dollar on to buy their 'special sweetheart' and Danielle could have opened a flower shop with the amount she received...not to mention make a dentist rich for the amount of candygrams with words of "love" and goofy sayings attached...wishing...hoping....for a date with her.

He went to sit in the back with the other Cobras. They all had their fair share of candygrams on their desks. All of the girls wanted make sure that their favorite Karate Boy knew how much they thought of them. Surprisingly, Dutch had almost as much flowers and candy as Danielle did. He was grinning from ear to ear...supremely smug about his animal magnetism.

"Yeah...look at this Lawrence...I cleaned up this year! I got at least ten numbers here!"

Bobby rolled his eyes at Dutch and looked at his small pile. He didn't do so bad. He had enough...all the notes said something about his eyes and his wispy hair and how sweet he was. He kept his thoughts to himself, looking over at Tommy and Jimmy who had a couple of small piles but were not discouraged because it was only the first class and they had all day to get more candygrams and girls' numbers.

Bobby glanced over to where Ali was sitting at her desk a couple of rows ahead of him. Her head was down and she was looking at some of her notes she received. There wasn't nearly as many showerings of goodies on her desk as there was on Danielle's and she was trying so very hard to keep the smile plastered on her face in good support of her friend. It was hard and she felt the burning sting of a tear at the corner of her eye and she hurriedly brushed it away.

Bobby had hoped she at least saw that she had a flower of every color from him and at least three candygrams telling her what a good friend she was to him. He hoped that she found the note asking her on a date for Saturday night. He had been waiting all month to ask her out and thought this was the good time to do that. A lot had happened between the two of them. He didn't like seeing her upset.

Johnny's desk was covered with an equal amount of flowers and candygrams and candy hearts and balloons and crap as Dutch's was...but he didn't care. He didn't want any of it. He kept staring at Dani as she politely sifted through all of her cards and smiled up at the boys who were eagerly staring back at her wanting her acknowledgement. Johnny almost broke his pencil in two when he saw her return smiles and shyly smell all the flowers on her desk. It was going to be a very long morning.

Boys may come and boys may go And that's all right you see Experience has made me rich And now they're after me

Dani walked through her day in a daze. She felt so spoiled by everyone at the school and didn't understand why she was getting all of this constant attention. She hardly could keep a thought in the back of her mind where her friends were. She hadn't spoken much to Ali as she moved to each class. She seemed to have disappeared on her...only catching her in the bathroom where it seemed like she couldn't get away fast enough. Dani wanted to grab her and give her a big hug. But she was gone. She'd make it up to her later.

And then there was Johnny. She wanted to play and flirt and give him a hard time, but he was just as gone as Ali was. He blew out of his first period class like he was on fire. Dani cocked her head and watched him leave. It was the first time her heart felt afraid that he might not like her anymore. That all of his attention to her was vanished into air. It hurt. It hurt worse than any punch or kick she had received in the past. She was going to give him a piece of her mind when she saw him again. How could he leave her like this and not at least give her one flower or card. What was the matter with him?

She found him sitting on a bench in the middle of the courtyard at lunchtime. None of the other cobra boys was around him. He was by himself, sitting on top of the table fiddling with something in his hands. Danielle couldn't see what it was from where she was at but she was grateful that he was alone. Now was her chance to go over and talk to him. She was intending to punch him in the arm and refuse to go on another date with him...especially tonight. This was not how to treat his girl.

"Excuse me." She said stopping in front of him and put her hands on her hips. He looked up at her, blue eyes sparkling...the sun glinting off of his bangs and eyes and giving him that angelic appearance again, the one that had her insides turning to mush.

"Oh...do I know you?"

"Har Har...very funny! What happened to you?? Where have you been?!" She barely took a breath as she scolded Johnny for leaving her alone for most of the day.

"Did you get enough Valentines? " He said ignoring her rapid fire questions. She stopped abruptly and looked at him with her mouth open, disbelieving what she heard.

"So...that's it..." She said with a smirk.

"I don't even know why you want to hang out with a jerk like me...when you clearly have so many other boys to choose from." Johnny said hanging his head, looking at her through his bangs. He wasn't really upset, more teasingly making Dani feel bad...but he wasn't about to tell her that.

She moved in closer to him. "Yeah...well maybe I don't wanna choose another boy....you thought about that?" She nudged him in the shoulder.

He looked up and smiled, his bright white teeth dazzling her as Ali had promised. "Well that's good for me then...because I wouldn't know who else to give this to." He said holding up a small black box.

Danielle smiled, her whole face lighting up and her dimples in both cheeks made Johnny want to spend the rest of the day kissing them. Just as quickly she acted aloof again...like she didn't care what he had. "Oh...you have something for me then?" She studied her nails, pretending to be disinterested.

"Maybe..."

"May I see it?"

"Are you going out with me tonight?"

"That depends."

"Oh really..."

"Yes...oh really..." Dani said giving him a sassy toss of her hair and holding out her hand.

Johnny put the box behind his back away from her and she pouted and stomped her jellied shoe. She had really learned the art of flirting as her few months as a girl made her almost a natural.

When Johnny brought his hands back around he held a delicate, silvery necklace with a heart shaped pendant. It sparkled and twinkled in the sunlight and Danielle looked at Johnny in shock. It was beautiful. Johnny motioned her to come forward and she did, standing in between his legs as he expertly fastened the necklace around her slender brown neck and he lightly trailed his hands from around her and slowly adjusted her pendant against her red jumper. He never took his eyes from her face.

Dani swallowed hard. She wanted nothing more than to kiss Johnny now. She was overcome with emotion. This was the nicest gift anyone had ever given her and it meant so very much to her that it came from Johnny.

Without thinking....Dani threw her arms around Johnny's neck...surprising him and she held on tight to him, burying her face in his shoulder. Johnny was shocked but quickly recovered, putting a hesitant arm around her waist, gingerly pulling her closer to him.

"Thank you, Johnny...it's...it's perfect." Dani whispered through the tears he felt wetting his cheek.

"So I take that as a yes?" Johnny said softly...pulling her back to look at him.

"Yes!"

'Cause everybody's living in a material world And I am a material girl You know that we are living in a material world And I am a material girl Living in a material world And I am a material girl

But it was oh so much more than that. Dani was in love.

#danielle #minific #johnny #ali #bobby #dutch #tommy #jimmy

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turnupswritessometimes · 5 years

Text

The One With the Zombies - AshEiji - Ch7

Title: The One With the Zombies

Chapter: 7

Word Count: 4022

Description: Another what it says on the tin from me - it's a Zombie Apocalypse AU because how else could this anime/manga get any darker? Whilst on the run from the outbreak of zombies, reporters Ibe and Eiji stumble across a New York street gang, safely huddled in an abandoned warehouse. As if the undead weren't surprising enough, Eiji finds himself becoming closer and closer to the gang's leader, mysteriously dubbed Ash Lynx. But safety doesn't last forever and soon it's only Ash and Eiji. And they're up against more than just zombies.

Note: This is available on A03, and I would recommend you follow it there, as I remember to update it. I would post a link, but then Tumblr wouldn’t include it in search results.

Eiji had read Peter Pan once. He distinctly remembered a part that mentioned whenever the Lost Boys were growing up, Peter would take them out to the forest and would return on his own. With a grim look on his face. As he looked at Ash he decided that was what it had meant. It was exactly the look he had on his face as he walked through the door.

They'd been given one of the backrooms, still mostly full of storage boxes containing ready-made sweet n' sour sauce and curries and easy cook rice. Ash Lynx was important, apparently. Eiji had found that out as he'd sat on the air mattress, freshly washed but still with blood stuck under his finger nails. One of the boys - one of the younger ones - the one Eiji had heard Shorter call Soo-Ling - had leant against the door and stared at him.

"Do you even know who he is?" he has asked.

"Who?"

"That's Ash Lynx you're tagging along with."

"I know." Eiji's voice sounded strange to him. Much too calm and soft for how he was feeling inside. Inside was a maelstrom.

"But do you? Really?"

"He's a gang leader."

"He's the reason the gangs stopped fighting. He was the reason Chinatown was doing so good. He is a legend," Soo-Ling was almost misty eyed as he said it. "So who are you?"

"Tired," Eiji replied. Soo-Ling looked surprised at that answer and Eiji felt his cheeks grow hot. He laughed and finished drying his hair with a towel that stunk of mildew. "Eiji Okumura. I was a journalist. Kind of."

"Kind of?"

"I was mainly just along for the ride."

Soo-Ling stared at him for a long time with dark eyes. "There must be more to you than that."

Eiji shrugged. "Sorry to disappoint you."

Soo-Ling kept staring, like he was waiting for a more satisfying response. When he didn't get one, he had sunk to the floor, pulling a D.S out of his hoodie pocket and playing it with earphones in. Eiji wasn't sure if that meant they were friends or not.

It seemed like an age before he was called away to go on watch, leaving Eiji alone again. That was when Ash returned. At first he had been relieved - incredibly relieved, because the blood had been scrubbed away and his hair had never looked so blonde.

Then he had seen the expression on Ash's face.

Neither of them said a word. Eiji wished he could - wished he did know what to say. But he knew there was nothing. Something had happened - something he could guess at and he knew that Ash wasn't going to talk about it.

Ash had lay on the air mattress without saying a word, his back to Eiji. Eiji was so exhausted that he followed suit, feeling aches pulse through his body from the bicycle ride.

He hadn't been sleeping when he heard it. The gasps of air of someone trying desperately to hide that they were crying. He half rolled over to see Ash's shoulders shaking.

It was always easier not to say a word. He shuffled around and slipped an arm around Ash, pulling him against him gently. Ash turned easily, folding himself under Eiji's chin and still trying to find air to gulp down.

Eiji just kept hold of him, their legs tangled in a mess and Ash's hair tickling his face. It smelt of the carbonic soap that had been in the bathroom.

He had laid there until dawn, drifting in and out of consciousness.

Eiji's fingers hovered over Ash's hair. He had the urge to brush it off of his face, but paused. He didn't know how Ash would take that.

Instead he crept out of the room. The main restaurant was full of people sitting around. Some were cleaning guns, others knives. Eiji wished he'd kept the chainsaw, though he had no idea how they would have carried it here.

Soo-Ling wasn't around, so he found Shorter. He was easy to spot - hunched over a takeaway box of noodles and slurping them into his mouth.

"Eiji, right?" he asked as Eiji jumped up onto the table next to him. His legs swung embarrassingly off the ground.

"Yes. Shorter, right?"

"That’s right."

"Is that your real name?"

Shorter smiled at him. "A Chinese kid can't be called Shorter naturally?"

Eiji blinked and it made Shorter laugh. There was a lot less laughter here than there had been with Ash's gang and it sounded harsh against the silence. Everyone was drooping. They glanced around at the slightest of sounds or movements and moved rarely but quickly, as if they were trying to preserve their energy. Shorter seemed to be the only one unaffected, but he still had dark smudges under his eyes.

"How's Ash?" Shorter asked, continuing to eat.

"Sleeping."

"It's not his real name, you know."

"What?"

"Ash," Shorter paused to slurp some more noodles. Eiji waited. "That's not his real name. He chose it. Ash Lynx. Lynxes can't be tamed."

Eiji wasn't sure what to say to that. It made sense - Ash Lynx hadn't sounded like a name anyone could have been born with. He wanted to ask why he chose that – why it was important to him that lynxes can’t be tamed. He wanted to ask what Ash’s real name was. But it wasn’t Shorter’s place to say – he wanted to hear it from Ash. To see Ash open up to him.

It would probably never happen.

"He saw his brother, didn't he?" he asked instead.

"Did he tell you what happened?" Shorter seemed like he knew the answer already from the look that he gave Eiji.

"Not a word."

"There was a gunshot." Shorter said it so simply. It was a matter of fact. It told Eiji all he needed to know – all he had suspected.

"Poor Ash," he said, mainly to himself.

"Poor Ash, what?" a sudden, loud voice said in his ear. There was an arm around his shoulders, Shorter's too, and in the next moment Ash's face appeared between them. His eyes were still puffy and it sounded like he had a blocked nose. Eiji decided to ignore that.

"Poor Ash hasn't had a cigarette for two days," he said. He glanced at Shorter, who smiled at him.

"Yeah, and I'm not sharing mine."

"Are you kidding me? After all I've done for you?"

"Get fucked, Lynx."

"Fuck you." Ash blew his fringe from his face. "I know I should have brought that hand with us. Traded it."

"I wouldn't have let you," Eiji said. He leant against Ash slightly - just so that he could feel him there.

"What hand?"

"Eiji got a zombie hand attached to him. Snapped clean off."

"That's fucking sick!" Shorter was grinning. "Was it moving?"

"Ew, no." Eiji grimaced at the thought.

"Shame. Would have been really interesting." He gave Ash a sideways glance from over his sunglasses. “Would have been worth a pack of tobacco. Maybe even a little weed.”

“Why am I even friends with you?”

“Because I needed someone to protect my pretty face in juvie.” Shorter laughed, taking hold of Ash’s chin and making him laugh too.

"Juvie?" Eiji echoed.

"Juvenile hall," Ash explained and had the decency to look embarrassed. At the confused stare Eiji gave him, he continued. "Prison for kids."

"We got in trouble a fair bit in our youth," Shorter said. He leant into Ash, pushing him further into Eiji and almost sending the three of them off the edge of the table.

“Because you’re so wise and worldly,” Ash elbowed Shorter back.

Eiji didn't know why he was surprised. Of course Ash had been to juvenile hall. Of course he'd been arrested. He was a gang leader. But he had never thought of Ash intentionally breaking the law. Of robbing or shooting actual people - people with jobs and lives. Living people. He'd Ash would have a past like that. That made him a criminal.

But Ash was good. Ash was a good person, Eiji knew that.

So did it matter that he had been to ‘juvie?’ What if he had been to actual prison? Did that change things? Eiji didn’t think it did. It should have. But it didn’t. This was the same boy that defended his English, taught him how to shot a gun and who picked him up in a farmhouse. The same Ash. What did his past matter?

“I bet Eiji’s been in more trouble than us,” Shorter said, and he had the condescending tone of someone who knew the answer.

“No.” Eiji wasn’t sure if he imagined Ash’s arm squeezing him tighter or not. “I’m just – ordinary.”

“Yeah, that’s him. Completely ordinary, right?” Soo-Ling appeared, headphones hanging around his neck. He stared at Eiji as though he was waiting for him to come out with a confession.

“Soo-Ling – how’s it going?” Shorter asked.

The boy shrugged. “Everyone’s still dead. Found a quarter by the door, though.”

“Eiji’s not ordinary,” Ash said. His chin was buried in Eiji’s hair. “He’s Okumura Eiji, walker-slayer.”

“Just call them zombies!” Eiji turned, pushing against Ash’s arm so that he had space.

“Mmm, I don’t want to be offensive.” Ash was smirking, tilting his head to the side in mock-consideration.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re adorable.”

“We have a no kissing rule!” Soo-Ling said loudly.

That made Ash pull away suddenly – Eiji did too, fixing his gaze on the floor. He felt his face burning as Ash yelped, “what?!”

“The two of you were flirting.” Soo-Ling shrugged, taking a tray of Chinese food from a passing kid and tucking into it before they could object. They flipped the bird at him and he flipped one back. “I don’t want to see you making out.”

To his surprise, Ash laughed, slipping his arm back around Eiji’s shoulders.

“You know, one day, you might not mind it so much,” Ash said. His hand caught Eiji’s chin and suddenly he was staring into green eyes inches away from his face. He was sure that Ash would be able to hear his heartbeat. “Right, sweetie?”

Eiji froze. He couldn’t talk, swallow or blink. He could only stare at those eyes. Ash could smile with his eyes.

“Nope, still prefer a good chow mein,” Soo-Ling said, over Shorter’s loud laughter.

Ash paused, for a moment looking as though he was going to kiss Eiji’s forehead, but then he was turning away and pulling the cigarette from behind Shorter’s ear and slipping it into his mouth.

Shorter jumped up immediately, reaching for it. Ash managed to duck and weave away, still chuckling. The others started to cheer each of them on, shouting like they were watching an American Football game.

Eiji watched with a smile fixed on his face. He wanted to join in on the fun, but he felt strange. He hadn’t expected to talk things over with Ash about what had happened last night. But he also hadn’t expected the flirting. There were a lot of things he didn’t know about Ash, he realised. Then, there was a lot of things he wanted to know about Ash.

There was a lot of things he wanted to know about Ash, but he wasn’t sure if he could now that there had been the kiss. The kiss and the pet name that didn’t mean anything because it was all just teasing or adrenaline.

If his racing heart was anything to go by, at least.

Ash broke again that night. That was his own phrasing. It wasn’t like crying. It wasn’t mourning or grieving or sobbing. It was breaking cleanly in half like a geode and being completely naked. It was opening the floodgate of shit that he had done and being forced to think about it all until his brain decided to give up completely.

He had seen Griffin behind his eyelids all day. Griffin’s pale face and lank hair and defeated eyes. His smile as he said Ash was almost a man. It had almost been like he was proud. Proud. Of Ash. That didn’t make sense. And he knew he wouldn’t have been if Ash had told the truth. He wouldn’t have called Ash a man. Not in the slightest. He didn’t deserve that praise.

Eiji’s arms appeared again, pulling him close without a word. He was shaking slightly as he found a grip on Ash’s vest. But then he just lay there, holding Ash as if he would be able to catch all of the pieces breaking off of him. As if he would be able to put Ash back together with his bare hands.

If anyone could, it would be Eiji. Eiji, who had basically learnt English in two weeks. Eiji, who had stayed up with Ash every time he was on duty, just to keep him company. Eiji, who had a smile like a firework. He wasn’t jealous of that genuinely happy smile. He just wanted to watch the show.

And Eiji had been the one who looked terrified when Ash had put his arm around him. When he had turned on the charm partly to tease him – partly to see if he would go along with it. He wasn’t sure if he had wanted Eiji to go along with it. How quickly would his stomach turn? And he wasn’t sure how he felt about the blushing, staring face. He had looked almost scared.

Ash hadn’t wanted him to be scared. But it was probably better than going along with it without hesitation. Maybe it was worth it – just to see that blush. It had made Ash’s heart pound. He wasn’t sure what was up with that.

He gripped Eiji’s t-shirt in his hands to get his attention – just in case he had somehow fallen asleep.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Eiji was quiet for a moment. His hand moved up Ash’s back, as if he was expecting him to move back. He stayed frozen. There was a tiny blue light from a freezer at the back, but It wasn’t enough to see by. Just to help provide silhouettes.

“Ash?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Ash continued.

“It was what you had to do,” Eiji murmured.

That made Ash frown. It clicked in the next moment. “You’re talking about the other night.”

“You’re not?”

“I meant earlier.”

“Oh,” Eiji took a breath. “It was fine.” The breath meant that it wasn’t fine. Not really. “We don’t have to talk about it. You don’t have to talk about anything.”

“I don’t know what to talk about,” Ash whispered. He tightened his grip, pulling Eiji towards him as if he would be able to hide in his chest. “We weren’t close. Not anymore. When I was a kid. Before he left. Before I left.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

Eiji’s thumb started to rub circles into the small of Ash’s back. “Let me be sorry anyway.”

His breath escaped him a burst that strained his skin like he was a balloon. Eiji pressed him closer without saying a word.

“I don’t know what I was thinking earlier.” He continued.

“Don’t worry about it.” Eiji said. He swallowed and his voice sounded thick when he continued. “Let’s just not talk about it.”

So Ash did. He kept quiet and thought about how warm Eiji’s arms were around him. About Eiji’s smell filling his senses. Carbolic soap. He could fall asleep like this. He felt safe and comfortable.

"Ash?" Eiji asked. He managed to make a small sound in response. "Have you heard from Ibe-san?"

"No." Ash could feel Eiji's heart sinking. "He probably has his phone off. To keep his battery."

"'Mm."

"You'll be safe here, with Shorter. Until they get here."

"Why are you using 'you?'"

"What do you mean?"

"You said I'll be safe here until Ibe-san comes. What about you?"

Ash took a breath. He raised a hand without meaning to and found his fingers in Eiji's thick hair.

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to stay with me."

He had been thinking it all day. Since yesterday. It was something that was much easier to say in the dark.

"I'm not leaving you," Eiji said, like it was obvious.

"Don't be stupid, Eiji." Ash sat up, scattering the old picnic blanket and hoodies they had been using as duvets. "You'll be perfectly fine with Max and Ibe. He's meant to be looking after you, right? I'm not-"

"You've done a better job of saving my life than Ibe-san did." Eiji sat too and the blue spark from the machine was reflected in his eyes. "You saved my life."

"I'm the reason your life was in danger."

"My life would have been in danger anyway."

"This isn't up for debate. I'm not - I'm not someone you should be around."

"There's no debate. I'm staying."

Ash huffed and wiped the leftover tears from his face with the palm of his hand. He stayed staring at the door with gritted teeth so that he wouldn't fall for those puppy dog eyes.

"No. You're not."

"I am." Eiji said, and when Ash glanced over he saw that Eiji had his arms crossed. " Of course I would want to be around you. You're my best friend."

"You've known me for two weeks."

"And I feel closer to you than any of my friends in Japan."

"Eiji-"

"What makes you someone I can't be around?"

There was a sudden knock on the door. It was so loud and abrupt that Ash almost jumped. Eiji did, jogging the air mattress.

"If you're not going to sleep, then could you go on watch?"

It was Shorter's voice and he sounded amused.

"Sure," Ash replied, without looking at Eiji. He pulled the door to the storeroom shut and had every intention of just leaving. But then he glanced back. Eiji was staring at him with a determined expression on his face.

He hadn't won the argument.

"What makes you someone he doesn't want to be around, Ash?" Shorter was smiling slightly as he kept pace with him over to the door.

“You can choose from a list of slurs. Whore is a popular one.”

“You honestly think he’ll care?”

“Of course, he fucking will.”

“Because I care so much, you know.” Shorter’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. He held out a rollie between his fingers, almost taunting Ash with it. Ash took it, flicking sparks from his lighter as he lit it. He held it in his mouth, but didn’t breathe in.

“You’re different.” Ash shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets, hunching his shoulders as he stared out onto the empty street. It was normally still full of taxis and tourists.

“I’m not pretty?” Shorter raised an eyebrow. He took a drag from his own cigarette and the smoke came out in puffs.

“Oh, you’re gorgeous. And you grew up with this life.” Ash finally took a drag, taking the cigarette from between his lips. Fuck, it felt good. He had known the craving was bad – enough to drive him insane. He hadn’t known how deep the relief would be.

"With zombies?"

Ash looked at him and simply rolled his eyes. Shorter just laughed.

"What did you think would happen? That you'd never meet someone normal and settle down?"

"Did you?"

"Of course.” Shorter leant against the doorframe. “Cute house, cute kids, cute wife.”

“Cute.”

“’Course, you might want to change the cute wife part.”

“Is this a roundabout way of asking me if I’m gay?”

Shorter shrugged.

“Fucking Max asked me the same thing.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Some dick my brother knew.” Ash paused. “You know, just because some pedo made me blow him doesn’t mean I’m gay.”

It was hard to say, as if he was talking through a hard lump in his throat. He heard his voice crack and gritted his teeth. Tobacco fell from the end of his cigarette and onto the floor. It curled there like tiny worms.

“That wasn’t what I was thinking.” Shorter said. His voice was soft and gentle. Like he was trying to tame a wild horse.

Ash blew his bangs away from his face and didn’t reply. There was a sick feeling settling himself in his stomach – fighting against the anger in his chest.

“I was thinking of the way that you look at him.” Shorter continued.

“Don’t know what you mean.”

“You let your guard down around him. I’ve never seen you do that before. With anyone,” Shorter said. “The fact that he’s a guy doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it fucking does.”

“Why?”

Ash didn’t look at him. He shrugged his shoulders and felt younger than ever. It did. It did matter. Of course it did, because Ash’s body had not been his own. His sexuality hadn’t been up for debate. It was finally his. He was finally free of what everyone had stuck on his back.

“It doesn’t matter what I am,” Ash said. “He’s not. Eiji’s not-“

Not like the others. Wouldn’t be like the others. But how would Ash know? Eiji had saved his life. He trusted him. Completely. Eiji was different.

“How do you know?”

Ash tossed the cigarette onto the floor and felt the heat through the thin sole of his trainer. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter. He wouldn’t let it matter. These weren’t things that he could think about.

They were things he didn’t want to think about. It meant acknowledging too much. Dealing with too many feelings that he’d set on fire long ago.

"I don't think past tomorrow,” he said.

"We'll survive this, Ash."

"And how are you so confident?" Ash rested his head on the doorframe, turning to look at Shorter. He could feel a smile on his face, despite his better judgement.

"Because I'm me." Shorter shrugged. "And when this is all over, you better not let that boy go."

He turned to leave, the slope of his shoulders showing how utterly exhausted he was.

"Who are you, his mother?"

"If that's what it takes to see you smile."

Ash gave a disbelieving huff, turning his attention back to the street.

He had been smiling, hadn't he? He smiled all the time. No, it wasn't a smile, it was a smirk. Ash smirked at people. But there had been times where that smirk had turned into something else. Those times were normally with Eiji. When Eiji was grinning up at him with the eyes of a puppy. As if Ash was his friend unconditionally.

And maybe he was. Maybe he would be.

But Ash couldn't take that chance. He couldn’t afford to take that chance. It was selfish, but he wanted to keep those puppy dog eyes for as long as he could. Before he had to say goodbye. There was a feeling in his gut that told him this wasn't going to last. It couldn't last.

A walker was stumbling towards him. Its arms jerked in front of it as if it wanted to find its way and yet realised how cliche it was.

Ash took the shotgun that was resting on the side of the door and checked the silencer was on it. He flicked the safety off and took aim. Probably, he could have left it to shuffle past, but he was pissed off now.

It turned to him. For a moment, he could see Griffin's features staring back at him. The same blank eyes.

But then he blinked and this was an entirely different man. A man with a beard and wrinkles around his eyes.

Ash took the shot. The men fell with a soft thump to the floor.

It was easy. Too easy. The kind of easy that made him think Shorter could be right - that there was an end to all this.

And yet he could see more shapes down the road. Could hear a building front being torn into.

They may have been safe for now, but it was still impossible to think past tomorrow.

#asheiji #banana fish #banana fish fanfiction #banana fish au #eiji okumura #ash lynx #bf #turnupswrites #the one with the zombies

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seokjinstopit-blog · 7 years

Text

Maybe It’s You (1)

Word Count: 8.2k

Genre:Fluff and other things I don’t know what to call…. Synopsis: You meet a boy at the park one day….

(Sidenote: Plagiarism is a crime punishable by law, don’t do it kids, this is my original work, so I worked really hard on it, don’t make me sue you haha.)

(Author’s note: AHHH THIS IS MY FIRST STORY, I’M SO NERVOUS, please tell me if you guys liked it or didn’t…😭. Whatever it is I would love to hear some feedback! Oh this is also going to be part of my school project haha, but I truly hope you guys enjoy it! Part two will come out when I have time to write it and when people ask for the next part so I know you guys want to see more hehe, anyways enjoy! Please..? 💙~Ace)

You

Under the harsh radiant sunlight your eyes are engulfed by a blinding light causing you to shuffle in your bed contained within your ebony enclosed room. You pulled the large warm grey blanket over your messy tangled hair hoping it would keep you protected from nature’s wrath. Before you know it you’re rising from your warm queen sized bed, rubbing your eyes intensely, causing some slight pain. You stretched your pajama covered arms out feeling the cool air around you. The sound of birds chirping fused with your wind chime reminded you of some Princess movie. Remembering that food was still left in the fridge from ordering takeout again yesterday, you stood up from your bed examining the room, well organized and put together, just the way you liked things. As your feet created a rhythmic beat with the floor below, you couldn’t help but realize how cold the tiles of your apartment floor was. Your focus was quickly diverted however when you started to wonder how you were going to spend your day. The park perhaps, or maybe visiting a friend’s house? Your thoughts went on into the endless possibilities, and various futures of your day as you made it into the restroom. The laid out wool carpets could be felt under your feet, highly contrasting from the tiles with it’s warmth. After a few seconds your gaze was transferred onto the framed bathroom mirror which caused you to smile, you didn’t look too tired and you felt slightly more confident in yourself today. Normally you would look more like a hot mess who’d been drinking for too long, that was hilarious to you considering the fact that you never touched alcohol in your life. You reached for your electronic toothbrush, adding on some Colgate toothpaste before brushing away, the buzzing sound filling up your restroom. A few moments later you were in the kitchen reaching for the leftover fried chicken and French fries you had. You lifted the crispy oiled chicken thigh up taking a huge bite out of the center, allowing the delicious unhealthy flavor to melt in your mouth. Junk food wasn’t something you’d normally eat but yesterday was special. It was to celebrate the completion of your 2 month project for English class. Your friends had thought that ordering takeout while watching, “White Chicks,” was the way to go so you just agreed. You weren’t the type to argue back anyways, and besides it was quite fun. After the celebration hangout session your friends had helped you clean before leaving. You snap out of your entranced thoughts, appalled that all of the fried chicken that was present mere seconds ago were mere bones. You turned your head rapidly silently pleading that the French fries were still safe but to your dismay the French fries were only remnants of what they once were. It was tasty while it lasted, you sighed standing up to put away your trays into the sink. It was a weekend today so you didn’t have any classes. Spending the rest of the morning relaxing and watching YouTube wouldn’t be such a bad idea. By the time you were finished with that it was already noon. - You closed the door to your apartment locking it carefully, before you placed the keys inside your pocket. Already clothed in winter fitting clothing you began to make your way to the park. Your grey faux fur jacket was keeping you warm, from the cool breezes that were surfing across your skin. Glancing down at the floor you admired your cute tennis shoes, grey and simple. The black sweats you were wearing contrasted with your beige t-shirt hidden under the coat. You’d normally dress a lot more fashionably but it was the weekend, it’s not like anyone would see you anyways. Today would be great for a little stroll to the park you thought. Despite the countless amount of times you’ve been on this path to the park, you were always left in awe at the beauty of your neighborhood. You loved nature, and life itself, if something appeared ugly, there was always some sort of beauty in it. That’s what your mother had taught you. You turned your head taking in a deep breath, the air was fresh provided only by the variety of trees that decorated your neighborhood. From pine trees to oak trees, the city had planted them during Earth day and you were glad you had volunteered to help. Cars zoomed by you, while birds flocked through the clouded gloomy sky. Perhaps it was going to rain, that’d be nice considering it hadn’t rained in almost a week. Your friends had teased you before for being such a “hippie,” as they called it but you didn’t mind. It wasn’t your fault they couldn’t cherish the very home they lived on. You’d try to lecture them about it but doing that was like talking to a wall. And you’re pretty sure the wall would’ve listened better. They were college kids just as you were, what could you do? Kids at this age just wanted to party and do the dirty. You weren’t a nun per say but you certainly didn’t go around hooking up with other guys. All your life you only had one boyfriend, Xavier. He was your boyfriend all of high school until he changed. He became addicted to alcohol, and at his age that was dangerous. Countless times you’d try to convince him to quit, sadly it always led nowhere. He wasn’t the man you’d fallen in love with anymore. He reeked of alcohol all of the time, and was always tired when you saw him. It didn’t matter to you if he drank ever so often but he didn’t, it was every, single, day. You decided that breaking it off with him was the best thing you could do. If you couldn’t save him, at least you could save yourself as selfish as that sounded. By distancing yourself from him, you found a sort of peace. But at the same time your heart was broken, it was too late, Xavier was never going to be the man you fell in love with again, and you were never going to be the same again. After Xavier you grew skeptical of trusting people, if you couldn’t trust them at least you could trust the world. The beauty of the world was a comfort to you. You weren’t ignorant to all of the cruelty and disasters of it of course. It’s just you’d rather not focus on that, you could of course do the same for people, which you did. But it was difficult when it came to people becoming a potential love interest or a close friend. To sum it up you were a complicated girl, you’d probably end up being single until death and own 70 cats. Honestly you didn’t mind that, having cats wouldn’t be so bad, they would keep you company, and unlike people. They wouldn’t break your heart. You broke from your memories when you noticed you’d made it to the front of the park. The park looked like any park, simple and usually peaceful. With your eyes fixated on a bench in the corner, you quickly shuffled towards it, your shoes clattering with the hard cement below. You placed your hands in your pockets before you sat on the clean polished wood. Your irises darted around picking up the landscape surrounding you. The green slides were unoccupied, while the rusty black swings blew gently in the wind. Saturday’s were never popular days at the park, in fact most days weren’t popular, kids nowadays were always so glued to their devices. You let out a loud sigh examining the rest of the park. The empty sandbox, check. The lone water fountain in the corner? Check. The unused monkey bars, and check. Everything else? Exactly the same. You didn’t hate the park, in fact you loved it. It was a great place to relax and admire the sky. Without warning, your attention was suddenly caught when a sound of a pigeon cooing rang in your ear. That’s strange, pigeons barely ever showed up to the park. At least not when you were here. Maybe you were just scary looking. You stood up, following the amusing sound. The sound led you to a person sitting on the park’s grass hill a few meters away from you. On top of the grass hill, you spotted a pale, pink haired Asian boy, around your age you assume. He doesn’t spot you yet thankfully. Your vision was glued on the beautiful boy in front of you, the wind sweeping his light pink bangs upwards. He chuckled, causing you some slightly confusion, before your attention briefly transferred onto the pigeon on his sweater covered arm. His other hand was directly in front of the pigeon’s beak, filled with some type of seed. The boy seemed unfrightened as the single pigeon pecked into his palm rapidly causing him to chuckle again. Your eyes returned to the boy once more taking his features in. He wasn’t in any way masculine looking, he looked rather boyish in your opinion, kind of like one of those K-pop guys your best friend always obsessed over, claiming she would have “Oppa’s babies.” If you had to describe him he looked pretty, you’d never thought you’d be the person to call a boy pretty, but there’s a first for everything, right? He’s dressed in a grey plaid pullover sweater, paired with some distressed black skinny jeans. His shoes were tennis shoes just like your’s but instead of being grey, his were black and white. You stepped closer as if you had a magnetic attraction to him, and for some reason the pigeon flies away. Probably just finished its meal you thought. His eyes met your’s now, despite being approximately two meters apart you could feel his gaze piercing through you, as if questioning your very being. He rose dusting off the grass from his jeans and sweater. You took this as a signal to step closer to him, your feet sinking into the grassy terrain. You left about a feet of distance between you and him before you spoke, “Um hey there, I noticed you were feeding a pigeon,” you add in a small chuckle at the end as waves of regret washed over you. What were you even saying? What were you doing? Attempting to flirt? Or just a bird enthusiast, yes that was totally the reason. A girl who can’t trust in people is suddenly a bird enthusiast. His cheeks flushed a light pink, made even more evident by his pale skin tone, he opened his mouth as if to reply, but nothing comes out. It’s in this moment that you notice a small scar on his neck. It looked like a tiny slash indented into his skin. He quickly covered the spot, his expression darkening, “It’s from a fall,” his tone a lot harsher than you had expected, “I’m sorry but I have to go now,” he fakes a smile before turning his back towards you. What the heck….what happened? Did you somehow offend him unknowingly? You were always a good if not a decent to talk to, why had he just marched off like that. A sudden feeling of angst consumes you, who was this pink haired boy? And what did he go through to get that scar? Why did you even care? Endless questions began to form in your mind as the boy’s figure shrank with the distance, an ominous aura following him as rain suddenly begins to fall.

Him

As he walked away from you, cold raindrops trickled down his cheeks, tracing his face as if he were a canvas, which he’d been before. His face turned facing the dark sky filled with gloominess. A feeling of melancholy presented itself to him, as he recalled a day like this. The day he ran away from her. Strangely enough, the boy had forgotten that he’d met you just a few seconds earlier, falling into his past memories once more.

1 year ago

She raised her hand up, prompting him to flinch slightly, before she quickly slapped him across the cheek causing the sound to echo through the empty dining room, “I told you not to buy me these pathetic useless things didn’t I?!” his girlfriend threw his present onto the floor without a care, letting her high heels click against the tile floor as she walked away. He fell onto the floor, as if his body had collapsed from disappointment. His cheek still burning as his arms reached out, wrapping his arms around the white teddy bear with the words, “I love you,” written on the red heart the teddy bear held. After a few hours of staying on the floor the boy’s body was growing even colder, he tightened his hold on the bear, his eyes glossed over as he fights a sob, “I’m sorry Stella….I’m sorry,” were the only words uttered by him that night. He didn’t sob, nor did he cry, because if he did, Stella would abandon him forever. About a week had passed since the incident and the boy was still as disappointed as he’d been a week prior. He went through his life mindlessly, school became a nuisance to him, even eating became unnecessary, and his love life began to slowly crumble. His mind was eating away at him, everything he had believed once morphed into inner demons ready to destroy him. One particular night, Stella came home very intoxicated, her heavy leather coat shifted from side to side as her heels stumbled loudly against the tile floor. She started screaming for her boyfriend as if she was in intense pain, and instantly he came running out to her, his face filled with panic. However when he truly saw what was happening his heart broke, he could tell straight away what was happening noting his girlfriend’s smeared makeup, her unbalanced posture, and her bloodshot eyes. She was drunk yet again, this had been the fifth time in a row this week. Stella had been drinking her heart out at the bar every night with her friends from what he knew, he’d been extremely worried about her. Was this perhaps his fault? She suddenly straightened up her stance, a evil smirk plastered across her face, “You’ve been cheating on me with some b**** haven’t you?!” The boy backed away slowly, feeling the cold tile floor against his bare feet, he was startled by how upset Stella was, but she was wrong, he’d never cheat on her, why would he? His face morphed into a state of panic, chills running through his body, when he noticed that she was holding an extremely sharp piece of glass against her acrylic nails, she laughed as her heels got closer to the boy, who’s body had collapsed on the floor from the shock. His heart was palpating so quickly that it was all he heard for a while, everything else she said to him became muffled. The boy wanted desperately for someone to save him right now, anyone, he begged hopelessly for some sort of miracle. But that miracle never came. He couldn’t move, the fear instilled in him, but he was beginning to hear her voice again, hoarse from the alcohol, “Now be a good boy and accept this and I’ll forgive you, oh and don’t scream, it annoys me,” she lifted the shard of glass bending down slightly so that she would reach him. The boy’s voice was stuck in his throat, he wanted to scream, to run, to disappear, but he couldn’t because he was too broken to. After what felt like forever to the boy, he realized that there was a sudden intense stinging on his throat, he moved his pale fingers, trying to cover the intense feeling of pain. All his fingers did however, was worsen the stinging, his fingers coating in the warm blood while a new color began spreading across his t-shirt, the color of regret. He pulled his hand away from his neck, taking a glance at it, it was painted over with the color of crimson blood. The boy’s gaze turned upward only to be welcomed by the horrified look on his girlfriend’s face, as though she’d seen a ghost, and perhaps in this instant she did. Perhaps this was his ghost, bidding her farewell. He was too lost in the pain and onslaught of thoughts that he couldn’t think straight. The shard of glass, coated with his blood had been dropped on the floor, mere inches away from his reach. The boy pushed himself off the coldness of the floor, his body heavy and his vision blurring. His eyes darted to the sharp piece of glass and again to her, Stella saw this and screamed loudly, her voice echoing through their empty apartment. This shocked the boy, that she would imply such a thing. Did she really think that he would do what she did to him? How horrid. The boy started to run towards the door, his neck in agonizing pain, as drops of his blood painted the white tile floor. His cold hands began to fidget with the door lock, while Stella sat on the couch in a state of stasis, when he had finally managed to unlock the door, he pushed it open, running outside. His bare feet new to the feeling of the concrete floor full of pebbles which he felt under his toes. The cold night air, blew against him, causing his cut to burn prompting a loud hiss from the boy. The bright moon, greeted him, and for a second he felt a tiny part of himself relax to have been able to escape from her, until suddenly a burst of pain ran through his head, his body falling against the floor with a loud thud. His black hair was soaking up the blood that was gushing out of the boy’s head, while his neck kept its constant stream of blood, now dripping on the dark concrete floor. Above him, against the light of the moon stood Stella, her face resembling a demon, as she clung onto the broken glass beer bottle tightly. The other half broke when she hit the boy on the head, he wasn’t dead, she just wanted to knock him out. That’s all. He was going to hurt her if she didn’t, yes that’s right he’s a jerk. Stella’s mind began to fill with toxic thoughts, supporting her actions, but that didn’t last very long when the sound of a siren pierced through the night. The boy later awoke several days later in a hospital bed, his entire body bandaged and wrapped, to be informed that Stella had been arrested, the nurse had said that someone in the neighborhood had called the police after hearing a scream coming from the apartment. She furthered explained to him, but her words became inaudible to the boy as he was taking in the reality. Stella was gone, the person who had been with him for all of those years (3), she was truly gone. Now he had no one, he knew how foolish he was, how dumb he seemed, how broken he would forever be, but he couldn’t stop the stream of tears from rushing out from his reddened eyes. And before he knew it, he was sobbing hard, as the nurse comforted him. She thought however that he was sobbing because of what had happened to him, and not Stella. The boy stayed in the hospital for a total of 9 months, recovering from the near death experience as the doctors described it, it had been a miracle he survived they said. During his time in the hospital, the boy confessed many things to the doctor, how Stella would usually hurt him physically, and never apologize for it. The doctors were mortified listening to his interactions with her, his experiences which he described calmly. The doctor’s one day asked the boy if he knew that he was being abused, to which he replied he did although he didn’t let it bother him, because Stella was all he had. Another patient who overheard his conversation with the doctors one day asked him why he didn’t tell his family, “I don’t have one anymore,” the boy would answer, his voice shaky as if he’d burst to tears any second. When he finally left the hospital after 9 months, the boy was a new person. He finally after all of those years acknowledged that he had been abused for the 3 whole years he had spent with Stella, and that she was a horrible person. Despite his gratitude for Stella for taking him in after his parents had passed, he could never forgive her for what she had done, or for shattering his heart. He wasn’t going to be her canvas anymore, he wasn’t going to let anyone paint his body with pain anymore. He wasn’t going to die foolishly every single day anymore, he wouldn’t need to hide the bruises on his arms, or body anymore, he was going to live every single day as if it was his last.

Present day

By the time the boy had snapped out of his entranced state, he was already home in his apartment, drenched from the rain. He quickly headed into the restroom, showering and changing into a new pair of clothes before he sank down onto his king sized bed. The clothes that he left in the laundry basket messily for a week now, should’ve been folded sooner, the sink full of dishes needed to be washed, and he also was in a dire need to buy more groceries. When he lived with Stella, he would always finish any housework that needed to be done as soon as possible, but now that he lived alone, he was a different person. He was still somewhat shy as always, still as kind and caring, but what he wasn’t was trustful. His thoughts drifted to the park where he met you, an innocent like beauty radiating from you unlike anything he had ever seen. It was much different from Stella who always had more of a femme fatale aura about her, while you seemed so pure and innocent. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was about you that made him so curious, he blushed when he first saw you looking at him. You reminded him of the innocence he had back then, and lost in that small fragment of time it felt as if he had fallen in love with you in that very instant. That is until he was reminded of his scar, he didn’t blame you of course, many before you had questioned what it was before, and the boy would always say it was from a fall. But for some strange reason, when you asked him, he couldn’t lie, a feeling of remorse arose inside of him as his memories brought up past pains, regrets, and destructions something he had wished to bury deep in his heart. The boy’s thoughts trailed back to you, and for some reason he desperately needed to see you again, even if for a tiny bit, perhaps seeing you once more would heal his heart a little. The boy laid on his bed, his eyes closing as he muttered a silent prayer, hoping this time someone would perhaps save him.

You

You pulled out the key to your door, from your pocket desperately, as you tried to escape from the rain, even if you loved the rewards rain brought to the world, you weren’t exactly a fan of getting sick or freezing from the rain. A click alerts you that you’ve successfully unlocked the door, you stepped in drying your feet on the mat below you. For a few seconds you stomped and scraped your tennis shoes against the black mat before you took them off placing them in your well organized shoe rack. You skim the rack, as you take off your white socks, only 3 pairs rested on them, a pair of sparkly silver high heels, your grey tennis shoes, and a pair of snow boots. These had all been gifts from your friends excluding the tennis shoes you purchased yourself. They said you needed more shoes, comparing you to the girls at your school who had around a dozen pairs each. You were quite amused when one of your friends had purchased snow boots for you since it only snowed during winter here, and when it did you rarely left your house. It was winter break and you’d rather stay warm. Although you started to realize that it was actually quite helpful when you felt like taking walks to admire the neighborhood covered in white snow. Christmas for you wasn’t really that special, it was as a kid but as you grew older it didn’t hold as much meaning. Maybe if you had someone to spend Christmas with then perhaps it would mean more to you, and by someone you meant a love interest. It’s not like you didn’t have people to spend Christmas with, you did. Your friends always wanted to come over to watch chick-flicks,gossip about their crushes, and finally stuff their faces with your food. But you wanted something more this year, but who were you kidding, you were a girl with trust issues who had more chances at getting plowed by a snow plower than falling in love again. You shake your head at your foolish hopes, psshh, love, you? Not anytime soon. You jogged into your bedroom, heading towards your closet, you paused as you looked for an outfit. When you had found it you started to strip yourself of your clothing and began changing into another one of your warm pair of pajamas. When you finally did, you looked at yourself in the black framed mirror resting on the floor of your bedroom, your cute Easter bunny pajamas looked childish but you didn’t mind, it had been a gift from your Mom. She was always worried about you so she sent you gifts as much as she possibly could. You had asked her to stop, feeling bad that she had to spend so much money on you for these gifts, but she didn’t care, she told you that she needed to take care of her only child and that it made her feel happy to buy them for you. You couldn’t argue with that, you wanted the best for your Mom who had worked so hard for you all of her life, she was a single mom who lived with 3 dogs, and was the friendliest lady anyone would ever meet. For some reason the word friendly brought another person to mind, a person who wasn’t exactly friendly at the park…that boy. What had happened to him exactly, you were curious to find out, but you don’t think he would just randomly spill all of his life stories to you. You would need to somehow befriend him, maybe tomorrow again at the park you thought as you sank down onto your comfortable bed. You weren’t in Iove with him but he somehow attracted your attention. And you wanted to find out more about this boy. Like what was his name, how did he get that scar, who was he as a person. You couldn’t stop coming up with various questions and played out scenarios of how your encounter would go until your eyes finally drifted shut. You wake up to the blaring sound of your alarm, ugh, it was morning again and you still felt tired. You turned on your bed feeling the warmth of your blanket, maybe a little more sleep wouldn’t hurt. “BEEP BEEP BEEP!” Your alarm scares the living daylights out of you once again, you reach for it turning it off before checking the time on your phone. What?! 11:30 A.M.? You slept that much? You quickly hopped out of your bed, rushing to eat and get ready to head to the park once again. - You felt a burst of excitement surge through your body as you stood in front of the park’s gate. Would you see him again? No, this wasn’t for him…you um…had to go look at the grass on the hill! Which the boy sat on…No! This was for the pigeon you saw yesterday! That the boy fed…Okay so what if this was about him? You were a strong independent women, as your once single friend once wisely said, “I’m am an independent women! I ain’t need nobody in my life! I ain’t need no man! You don’t either!” Until she wasn’t single anymore. You felt yourself chuckle at the memory, as your feet began to create a rhythm with the sidewalk pavement of the park. Again today, there was no one present, no kids, no adults, just you and the sunny sky, and hopefully him as well. You didn’t fully trust the boy yet considering how he reacted last time but your interest in him guided you to the grass hill once more. You were a few meters away, standing in the same spot you were before when you first laid your eyes on him. And there he was, at the same location he had been last time. He was wearing a white oversized pullover sweater with black distressed skinny jeans, his features as gentle and friendly as you remembered as he laid on the grass hill sprawled out on his back, as if attempting to make a snow angel. He didn’t notice you, instead he seemed to be staring at the blue cloudy sky, you suddenly see a smile form on his face, causing you to admire how cute he looked. You turned your head towards the sky to see if there was anything which had caused his smile, and then you saw it. A cloud shaped like what appeared to be a sheep, maybe he had a thing for animals?

Him

The boy felt himself smile once more, as the sheep cloud passed by. Goodbye Mr.Sheep, he thought. He always found a fascination with animals after he’d been in the hospital. During his time there, doctors would let him visit a therapy room full of animals, usually filled a variety of dogs. They always comforted him and he felt warm when he got to play with them. Soon after when he was released from the hospital, he visited a petting zoo. He met a sheep there which he really liked, the sheep’s name was Henry, and the boy loved petting Henry. The wool against his palm felt calming somehow, so soft and gentle. He realized how childish his fascination for animals was, so he usually kept that fascination to himself. If he ever had enough free time after college and work he would visit a pet store, sometimes even a petting zoo. His main reasons for visiting these places however were to comfort his loneliness and to cope with his past. Even if he hated to admit it, without Stella he got extremely lonely, but thinking of her only made his heart ache even more. He was slowly recovering from the hell prison he escaped, but it would take a lot more time for him to slowly become normal again. A thought occurred to him remembering the girl, he did show up to the park again after all hoping he would see you. And at that like magic, you stood over him, causing a shadow over his face. “Hello, there pink haired boy..” you said nervously, as you clutched onto your navy blue backpack tightly which caused the boy’s eyebrows to furrow. The boy propped his arms as he pushed himself up to sit, his pink bangs falling messily against his forehead, “What’s in the backpack?” the boy couldn’t hide his curiosity as to why you were holding onto it so tightly. At that the boy started to blush, he hadn’t realized how open he was being with you when he dismissed you last time so harshly. He felt bad about it, so he hoped that he would be able to apologize today. The boy’s gaze caught sight of your outfit, again today you were dressed extremely casual, with an oversized black zip up sweater and a pair of black sweatpants, paired with the same tennis shoes you had yesterday. You looked away nervously when you noticed his staring, but the boy responded with a smile. He loved how casual and comfortable you looked, it made him feel closer to you somehow despite being strangers. If you had dressed fancy, he wouldn’t have been able to look at you properly without being a nervous wreck. The boy’s cheeks heated up, which prompted him to avoid staring at you for too long, he was a shy person in general so he didn’t have the confidence to say much to you until he felt comfortable enough. You noticed his shyness immediately because it was so different from your ex, his shyness was adorable for some reason, but it’s not like you would admit that to him. You took off your heavy backpack placing it beside you, as you sunk down next to the boy. The grassy texture could be felt even in your sweatpants, but you didn’t seem to mind as much as the boy did as he scooted a few inches away from you. He felt his heart starting to beat faster you were so close to him, he was going crazy, his heart was fluttering over a stranger. “So umm, what’s your name?” you began the shakiness in your voice apparent, as if you were giving a speech to your entire class, something you hated. The boy slowly looked back at you, now that a few inches were separating you both, he felt less shy, “My-my name is J-Jimin,” instantly his cheeks flared up, embarrassed by his nervousness and stuttering. He noticed your bright smile as you nodded, your simple action only intensified the heat he was feeling on his cheeks, “That’s a nice name,” you responded intrigued by the boy’s adorable shyness, “my name is (Y/N).” The boy hugged his legs with his sweater covered arms hesitant to respond, a few seconds passed before he finally cleared his throat to respond, “T-that’s a pretty name..” he hid his face burying it in his arms. Why were you making him so nervous? Was it because you complimented his name? Or maybe it was because you were so close, or may- “You know you’re really handsome Jimin,” you said interrupting his thoughts, sounding confident for the first. His heart raced in his chest, as Jimin heard the loud drumming of his heart against his chest. Why were you so nice to him, he wondered. You were only strangers after all, “T-thank you,” he lifted his head from his arms, a rosy pink color decorating his squishy looking cheeks. You suddenly remembered the pigeon from yesterday, “Hey Jimin, what was happening with you and that pigeon yesterday, do you feed pigeons often?” the boy’s head quickly snapped in your direction his eyes widened slightly as memories of his harsh response to you came back to him. “I-I’m sorry about yesterday,” his eyes were glued to the floor, as his index finger began drawing tiny circles on the grass, “I just had bad memories come back to me.” You laugh loudly, startling him, “I wasn’t mad or anything don’t worry,” Jimin exhales loudly your response easing him, “Are you okay now?” The boy simple nods his heart feeling lighter now that you’ve told him your feelings, he’d been nervous about it coming to the park, afraid that he perhaps rubbed you the wrong way. “And yes I do feed pigeons,” Jimin smiled brightly, his nervousness less apparent now, “The one you saw yesterday was my favorite pigeon, his name is Mr. Pigeon.” Your head turned slightly looking into his dark obsidian irises, he held his stare with you for a second before his head turned looking downwards, “That’s so cute, how you name animals and all,” you noticed his ears getting slightly pink at your remark, which caused you to feel warm inside. Perhaps he was a nature lover like yourself?-Both you and Jimin’s conversation went on for about an hour before he had to go home to do his chores he claimed. As his feet felt the warmth of his carpet floor he thought of you again, you made his day today, and he secretly hoped to see you again tomorrow. You felt special somehow, and spending time with you today mended his broken heart slightly. He wasn’t in love with you just yet, but he was sure that if he kept seeing you he would eventually fall for you, something he was afraid of, but also excited about.

You

You: Are you coming to the park again today? You wrote the text smiling to yourself, as you placed your phone back in your pocket, locking the front door to your apartment. You and Jimin had been meeting at the park for around 3 months now almost every single day, some days you had homework to do while other days he was busy with work or school. But seeing himself everyday somehow became a common thing, your friends had found out about it and teased you for having a crush on the boy, which you admitted you were starting to develop but it’s not like he returned your feelings so it didn’t matter, you just enjoyed his company. Although it would be nice if he felt the same way about you. You also somehow managed to convince him around 2 months ago to give you his phone number to you, he was hesitant about it but finally gave in when you constantly bugged him about it. You giggled remembering the incident.

2 months ago

“C’mon give me your number..” you whined, a puppy eyes look plastered on your face. He blushed looking away, as he scooted further away from you on the park bench. After one month of meeting him you were a lot more comfortable now, he was different from all of the guys you’ve met before, he slowly earned your trust with his kindness and you never regretted meeting him for a second. You scooted closer to him trying to get a better response from him, you felt the coldness of the bench against your thighs, today you stupidly decided that booty shorts were the way to go. The weather was cloudy this morning, you assumed it would get hot for some reason which prompted your decision but instead it didn’t, it stayed cloudy the whole day. You shivered against the wooden bench catching the boy’s attention, without saying a word he removed his black zip up jacket handing it to you, “Put it over your thighs or you’ll catch a cold,” his eyes avoided you as his ears reddened.” You smiled at his kindness and cuteness retrieving the jacket and placing it over your thighs, “Thank you for that,” he simply nods trying his hardest to fight back a smile. “So can I have your number now?” your straightforwardness surprised him, causing him to look in your direction. You looked beautiful again today, but he was to shy to tell you that despite how close you two had gotten in the past month. Jimin finally nodded, reading his number to you at lightning speed. Your mouth drops open as you unlock your phone heading to the contact page, “Wait wait! Slow down, say it again…”“I don’t wanna..” he responded mischievously as if he was a child, Jimin felt his heart warm up as he admired how less nervous he’d gotten around you. “Please..! What if I get stranded somewhere and I need you to come help me from getting eaten from a pack of hyenas?” At your exaggerated lie he slowly reads his number to you, feeling nervous that the impossible future you just named could be possible, he cared about you after all. You added his number smiling to yourself, “Done, thank you!” He nodded once again, his heart fluttering slightly as pulled out his phone reading your text, “Just added your number, Hi!” Jimin turned to smile at you, and you returned the gesture, as you both felt the cool breeze of the afternoon. Maybe Jimin was going to be even more special to you in the future somehow, but as for now you were happy being by his side. You two chatted for a while after that, watching the sunset together before the night came to a close, which meant that you had to part ways with him. Both of your least favorite part about spending time together. “I’ll see you again tomorrow alright?” you smiled back reassuring him, he nodded giving you a thumbs up before you both head your separate ways. Maybe someday, you would both head the same way, maybe someday you would not have to part any longer, maybe someday you would fall in love with him, maybe someday he would tell you he loves you too, and maybe someday he would be your’s.

Present

You shook your head, snapping out of your warm memories, you shouldn’t be so delusional right? Your weren’t even if saw you that way, for all you knew he saw you as a close friend. You began pacing down the street in your grey tennis shoes paired with some blue skinny jeans and a white flannel. Today for some odd reason you didn’t want to look like a hot mess, maybe something big was going to happen if you dressed to impress. Maybe he would finally confess to you! You cackled loudly, as you continued making it to the park entranced by your crazy fantasies of Jimin. A thought suddenly occurred to you, his scar, you never did find out what it meant. Judging from his first reaction you didn’t bring it up, but maybe now that you were closer to him, maybe he would react differently.

Jimin

The bitter alcohol burned down his throat, causing him to cough slightly. He felt the grass under his fingers as he shuffled backwards slightly on the grass hill. The cold air brushed his pink bangs upwards, before it slowly fell back into place. His dark irises embraced the sky’s sadness, it’s features painted over with a coat of darkness. Clouds decorated the sky, as the bright moon glowed above the boy, allowing him to be comforted slightly. But that wasn’t enough, he felt lonely, Jimin took another gulp of the alcohol, placing the bottle beside him as he exhaled loudly. Tears began to stream down the boy’s face as memories flowed back to him. Today was suppose to be another anniversary with Stella, but that wasn’t the case anymore. He’d been through so much, so much time has passed, he’d met you and slowly became closer to you. Yet, it ached so much, his heart felt the void that hadn’t left him. He didn’t want to be with Stella again, he wanted someone like you, someone so kind and pure. Someone who could save him this time, someone he wouldn’t be afraid of, someone, perhaps fear someone would be you. Even if it was the alcohol speaking, he didn’t care, he wanted to be your’s even if for a little, he wanted to experience your love for him. Just hearing you tell him you loved him would’ve been enough, he never heard those words from Stella for more than 3 months. In the beginning she was kind, she seemed like she actually loved him, but suddenly she changed. The boy clasped his hands together as he broke into a sob, his voice breaking into an emotional cry for help. Help from his past, help from himself, help from his fears. Maybe you were going to be like Stella, maybe you would also change, but he was willing to risk that. Because maybe he loved you, and even if he was foolish, he wanted to be truly happy again. The days he had spent with you were the happiest in his life, it made him feel special, it gave him everything he never had. So he would give you something you never had, his story, his life, himself. And the boy wished with all of his heart that you would accept him, all of him. The boy’s sobbing was interrupted by a gentle patting he felt against his back, he turned to a warm face greeting him, a smile so warm and precious, a person so special and dear to him. That person was you.

You

You continued patting Jimin, making sure to stay silent, his sobs growing weaker now that you were here. You were really confused when you saw him on the grass hill, he didn’t reply to your text, so you assume he wouldn’t be here. But on top of that Jimin had been sobbing when you saw him, you couldn’t stop your feet from running towards him, as if you desperately needed to comfort him. You suddenly noticed the alcohol beside him, causing your heart to break slightly, you knew Jimin was never the type of person to drink, he even admitted to you before that he never had before. So why so suddenly? Why was he drinking? Why was he crying? You had so many questions, but you were hesitant to ask him in his state. You bent your knees down, sitting beside him on the grass hill. Your black scarf blew with the wind, sending a slight chill down your entire body. The black trench coat you had chosen to wear today kept your body warm, while the black leggings accompanied by your grey tennis shoes kept your lower body warm. Your head turned to him slowly, your gaze fixated on the fragile boy in front of you. His navy blue pullover hoodie was paired with his usual choice of distressed black skinny jeans, he also wore black tennis shoes, but what you noticed most on him was not his clothing choices but rather the sadness he was wearing. It cloaked him in a dark aura, a mysterious tragedy, the boy remained silent, his reddened eyes embracing the moon. Jimin’s tears were beginning to dry up slowly, but you couldn’t help but feel saddened by the tear stains still painted on his pale face. The moon’s light revealed the contours of his face to you, his soft and gentle features captured you. “Hi there…” the boy whispered, keeping his gaze away from you, the sadness in his voice was unfamiliar to you considering he was a usually bright person. “Hey..” you responded, taking in the awkward atmosphere between the two of you, you looked away from the boy’s face trying to not make him uncomfortable. Jimin quickly turned his head towards you, his bangs blowing word with the gentle wind, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be coming today,” his tone more casual now, “I left my phone at home because I wanted to be alone.” His gaze dropped to the grass, as he traced small circles into it, something you picked up was a nervous habit he had. “It’s okay,” you began, feeling yourself smile, “I didn’t think you’d be here either honestly.” The boy opened his mouth as if to respond, but shut it, quickly as he kept his gaze on the floor, his fingers drawing endless circles onto the terrain. “Are you alright?” was all you could say, your voice felt constricted somehow as if you were asking a forbidden question. Jimin nodded noticing your nervousness, he looked up at your face, his irises gently piercing into your’s, “Now that you’re here I am,” he paused sighing as his gaze returned to floor below, “It’s just that today is a bad day for me.” His voice grows solemn as he fights his aching heart, trying his best to tell you his story, “Today was the anniversary of Stella and I.” He paused looking for a reaction, but you were completely clueless to the pain he had experienced. His gentle cat like eyes captured you seeking a response, for a signal for him to continue. You knew about Stella being his ex, but he never spoke of her much which led you to assume that it had just been a bad breakup, “Oh I’m sorry,” you responded, unsure of what else to say as you felt a strange sadness radiating from the boy. “Don’t be, it’s not your fault, I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” Jimin looked at you regretfully, afraid that you would hate him, the boy knew how much you hated alcohol but despite that he couldn’t stop himself from attempting to numb the pain. You rubbed his denim covered thigh reassuringly, the boy jumped back slightly, this was the first time you had ever touched him physically. As strange as it was, you both never even hugged before, despite how desperately you wanted to. “Jimin can I tell you something?” the boy simply nodded, a curious look in his eyes awaiting what you wanted to ask him, “Will you let me love you?”

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