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writing-wh0re · 3 years

Note

Can we get some George Weasley x Y/N but Y/N caught Fred with Angelina (while Y/N and Fred were dating)

All writings will be #writing-wh0re-requests.

George Weasley x Reader - Fred Weasley x Reader (mentioned/past)

Words: 1,970.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hints Of Cheating(?).

A/n: I hope you enjoy this! I did and didn't make it Fred cheating but you'll have to read it to find out how I did that. Love you all, stay safe and hydrated xo

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Fred had been distant from you for a while now, almost everyday you’d wonder what had caused this distance between you. A Lot of the time you wondered if it was your age gap or if you were too involved in your studies to have time with him. You missed what you had before dating, your years of friendship slowly disappearing. You decided enough was enough and you would ask him what was going on, at least asking would give you a straight answer, one that would hopefully help you sleep at night.

You knocked on his dorm door, waiting patiently for the shuffling feet to reach the doorway.

“Y/n, uh, Fred isn’t here.” George smiled weakly at you before moving from the doorway to let you pass.

“Oh, do you know where he might be?”

“He could be studying, I know that he and Angelina have a joint project coming up.” Angelina, the gorgeous girl that made Fred’s eyes light up. George sits down on his bed, opposite to Fred’s as you cautiously walk over, sitting in front of him.

“George, can I ask you something?”

George simply nods in response as you let out a deep sigh.

“Fred, he’s been distant lately and I can’t help but think it's me, has he said anything to you?” I feel the nerves set in, knowing the twins share everything with each other, I twiddle my thumbs not wanting to look up at George and know the answer before he says it out loud.

George sighs deeply before speaking, “I have noticed him being distant towards you, honestly I think he’s a bit of a twat to be doing that to you, why do you think it’s your fault?”

I open and close my mouth, trying to find the words as my thoughts run wild as well as my emotions, unsure of which one will break free first.

“I can’t help but think it's our age gap, plus I know I’m more involved in my studies and find it hard to squeeze in time for dates or anything of the sort. Plus my parents are strict and don’t even know about him yet, I don’t want them to freak out about me dating a family friend.” I can feel myself blabbing on and on, unsure of when to stop, trying to talk to cover my nervousness. “I know it's over but I don’t think he wants to hurt me.”

George places his hand on my knee, rubbing small circles on my skin with his thumb.

“It’s not your fault, Fred should have tried more.” I roll my eyes at George, tuting slightly.

“A relationship goes both ways, I should have found time for him and told my parents, it has been three months after all.”

“You’re right Y/n, but if I was him, I would sit with you while you studied, bring the date to you.” George sits beside me, tilting my chin up to him finally making eye contact with each other. “Who cares if you parents are strict, it should make the relationship a bit more exciting.” I chuckle at George, pulling away from his hand.

“More exciting?”

“Yeah, the whole sneaking around, taking their daughters innocence.” I feel my breath hitch at the way George says the word innocence, a hint of lust behind his words. I shake the thought from my head, knowing that my longtime small, tiny, crush on George is trying to piece together emotions that aren’t there, ones that aren’t shared.

“Ah, well maybe you should talk to Fred and see if he agrees with you. Prove me wrong in believing this is all over.”

George’s face drops slightly before nodding.

“Let’s go find him then.”

I follow behind George, walking the corridors side by side.

“Do you love him?”

“What?” I stop in my tracks causing George to stop as well, turning to look at me.

“Do you love him? Or was this just because of how close your friendship was? I mean you’ve been a family friend since you were born.”

I frown at George’s questions, having to rack my brain for the answer. Although for the past few months I have been asking myself these exact questions, is it just comfortable and familiar? Did we owe it to ourselves to try?

“Of course I love Fred, I mean, yeah I love him.” I mentally slap myself for sounding unconvincing, more so trying to convince myself. I do love Fred, I have so much love for him, just like I do for all of the Weasley family. George hums in response, kicking the ground slightly before scoffing.

“Romantically Y/n, do you love him, or is it just comfortable?” George boxes me against the wall, his eyes wandering mine for an answer, one I’m not sure I can say out loud, one I’m too afraid to admit.

My heartbeat picks up, my breathing ragged as I stutter out my words. “I-uh, I’m-, lets just find Fred.” I watch George flick his eyes from mine to my lips, I quickly duck under George’s arm, walking a little faster than usual away from the interaction, turning into the library and hoping to find Fred.

I look around the room, feeling George’s presence behind me. I look over my shoulder slightly, confirming with myself that it is George.

“Can you see him?”

I look around the main foyer, before walking to the left, looking down the hallway.

“He’s not here, let's go.” George says hurriedly, grabbing my forearm.

“George stop, I haven’t looked down here yet.” I pull my arm from his grip earning a groan from George, he quickly rushes in front of me, obstructing my view. I chuckle softly, looking up at the tall ginger.

“He’s behind you, isn't he.” George doesn’t say anything, I lick my lips before letting out a deep, almost defeated sigh. “Enjoying his time with Angelina?” I look past George’s body, seeing Fred laughing with Angelina, brushing hair out of her face before kissing her. I feel a pang of sadness mixed with guilt hit my heart, before smiling at my longtime friend. Feeling guilty for ‘keeping’ him from her.

“Fred’s happy with her, George.”

George stays in front of me, his hand softly rubbing up and down my arm. Angelina breaks away from the kiss, before her eyes land on me, causing me to go wide eyed. I quickly duck behind George’s body, knowing he isn’t hiding me very well.

“She saw me.”

“C’mon, we won’t do this here.” George grabs my hand, lacing our fingers together before guiding me out of the room. My heart swells, butterflies erupting inside of me as I glance down at our hands.

George. It’s always been George.

I mindlessly follow beside George, smiling as we end up at the astronomy tower.

“You two really are identical.”

George chuckles at me before sitting down near the railing.

“Yeah, Fred and I both enjoy the view up here.”

I nod in agreement, looking at the view, the breeze flowing through my hair, deciding to lay down on my back.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can George.”

“You don’t seem upset.”

I stay quiet for a few seconds, before looking over at him.

“It’s weird, I know I should be sad, we were together for three months but nothing really changed from when we were friends.” George nods, before laying down beside me. “We just gave ourselves a title and kissed a few times.” I chuckle at how weird it was to kiss Fred at first, almost as if it was a taboo act. “When you asked me if I love him, I do, but not romantically, kissing him felt odd.” I confess causing George to raise an eyebrow at me. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

“Odd how?”

“Like I was kissing my friend, which I was but it just didn’t feel romantic.”

“Hmm” George hums in response before he can ask me any more questions, rushed footsteps pull us out of our conversation.

“Y/n.” My heartbeat picks up at the sound of his voice.

“Freddie.” I smile, tilting my head and looking up at him from the ground.

“Fred.” George says sternly, a protectiveness hidden behind his voice, I shake the oncoming thought not wanting to spiral in this moment. Fred walks over to me, before laying down beside me.

“I’m not upset with you, I’m happy for you.”

“I-, what?” Fred stutters, causing me to chuckle.

“I have been your best friend for years, I know the look you give someone when you’re completely mad about them and Angelina is a lucky lady.” I grab Fred’s hand squeezing it reassuringly as a deep breath falls from his lips.

“I’m so sorry Y/n, I should have tried more but I don’t know, I was trying to get myself to believe something was between us, but kissing you felt like kissing my friend.”

George chuckles beside me, causing Fred to sit up and look at his twin.

“What’s amusing you about this?”

“Y/n just said the same thing about you, kissing was odd and there was nothing romantic about it.” I slap George’s chest causing Fred to chuckle.

“Guess we tried, it won’t be awkward now will it?” I shake my head before kissing Fred on the cheek.

“We were definitely more friends than partners in these three months, plus I think we saw less of each other while ‘dating’.” I put air quotes around the word dating as Fred sighs in relief.

“Weird how we had to ‘date’ to figure out who we both truly wanted.”

“Wait, what?” I ask, a nervousness falling over me.

Fred stands from laying down as I rest on my elbows.

“I may give Angelina a look but I know who you look at and they feel the same.” Fred winks before turning to walk out of the tower. “Don’t blow it George!”

I facepalm at Fred’s words, knowing he can read me like a book. I turn to George, opening my mouth to try and do some damage control with Fred’s words so I don’t lose George as a friend. However before I can speak my peace, George cups my face pulling our lips together. My heartbeat picks up, my body falling hot as a tingle rushes over my skin. I place my hand on his forearm, his thumb brushing small circles on my face as our lips move in sync.

This, this is what kissing should be.

George pulls away from my lips, a small smile dancing across my face as our eyes lock together, his forehead resting against mine.

“It will break my heart if you say that is how kissing Fred felt.”

I chuckle at George’s response, quickly kissing him again causing him to smile into the kiss.

“It’s always been you George.” I whisper my confession as the younger twin hums, kissing my forehead.

“It's always been you too Y/n, don’t you remember the fight Fred and I had when you started dating?” I shake my head softly as George licks his lips. “It shocked me that you were getting together, everyday I wished it was me instead but I slowly noticed the way you would look at me compared to him. I just knew.”

I blush at George’s confession before mentally scolding myself for not being subtle.

“Did you mean what you said in your dorm? Bringing dates to me, sneaking around with my parents and taking my innocence?”

George smirks, licking his lips as he makes me look into his eyes.

“Every word.” My breath hitches, butterflies fluttering around inside of me as I close the gap between us.

My mind falls clear, no doubt, second guessing or worry wandering through me. Finally content. Finally with George.

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kyotarou · 3 years

Note

One bed scenario for izuku, shouto, tamaki and dabi? I really liked the last one

characters: izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, tamaki amajiki, dabi

plot (deku, shoto, & tamaki): you’re invited to a weekend getaway for a class celebration, but some miscalculations lead to some awkward situations

warnings: mild swearing

a/n: since dabi isn’t part of u.a. the plot for his scenario will be explained below :) also this is a bit long i apologize if it’s a lot to read

part 1

Izuku Midoriya

Class 1-A takes a trip to Kyoto during the spring when the cherry blossoms have bloomed and the city is pink

Everyone is free to do as they please as long as they meet back at the hotel by a certain time or else everyone is going to assume they were kidnapped

Deku’s excited cause he’s never gone on a trip with all his friends like this before

He’s the type of person to have a backpack full of water, snacks, money, and a map with a ton of places marked off

Drags you by the wrist all over the city and manages to cross off all the spots on the map with enough time to squeeze in some extra destinations

At the end of the day, you and Deku head up to the room you decided to share, exhausted and ready to sleep until noon

Upon opening the door, you both do a double-take

“Uh, Izuku, am I seeing things, or is there only one bed?”

“Nope, there’s only one.”

“Um, I guess one of us could take the floor?”

Neither you or Deku actually want to sleep on the floor, but you don’t want to come off as rude, so you play a game of, “No, I will,” until it gets too tiring

“Let’s just share, yeah?”

“Oh, (Y/N), are you sure?”

“Well, we’re not getting anywhere aren’t we?”

He’s trying his best to not seem flustered as you crawl into bed next to him

It’s not as uncomfortable as you thought, but you’re worried about Deku and how he looks like he’s about to have a heart attack

You scoot to the edge of the bed with your back to him, hoping it makes things less awkward, and fall asleep

You wake up to the sound of rustling and try to get up to check the time but something’s holding you back

You look down to see Deku’s arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight, while his lips brush against your neck, murmuring your name in his sleep

Your face heats up and you realize staying like this for the rest of the day isn’t so bad

Shoto Todoroki

You hang out with your friends but grow tired quickly and decide to head back to the hotel early and relax at the spa

You’re surprised to see Shoto in the spa house too, towel draped over his shoulder, no shirt, with shorts on

It makes your heart race and cheeks burn with embarrassment because holy fuck does your crush look good right now

He’s super chill about it and thinks your red face is from the steam of the hot tub or the sauna

“Hello, (Y/N), why aren’t you out with the others?”

“Oh, um, I was getting tired and just wanted to relax.”

“I see. Well, care to join me?” He hangs the towel on a hook and settles into the hot tub

You’re standing there, legs shaking, realizing you’re going to have to strip in front of him

Shoto stares at you expectantly and sees you hesitating

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I’ll look away.”

After taking off your clothes, swimsuit underneath, you get in beside him

It’s a bit tense at first, but soon you loosen up and have some good, interesting conversations

At bedtime, Iida is listing out the pairs and the room numbers and you hear him say, “(L/N) and Todoroki, room 207.”

“Huh?! Iida, are you sure? I was supposed to be with Denki!”

“Hm, it says Denki’s with Sero on the list. You two must’ve gotten mixed up, I apologize. Will you be okay or do you want to switch?”

“I’m fine with it, how about you (Y/N)?”

You feel like you’re going to collapse because your crush just agreed to be in the same room as you, but you nod a little too excitedly and take the elevator up

As if the day couldn’t get any better worse, there’s only one bed in your room

Even Shoto is a bit taken aback but, being the responsible boy he is, he offers to request a different room, or at least bring a cot up

Without thinking, you blurt out, “What if we shared?” and your whole body stiffens in embarrassment

Surprisingly, Shoto isn’t opposed to it, but he asks if you’re 100% with it first, then gets into bed

His body is cold next to yours and you shiver a little too violently, back turned to him

Shoto takes notice and you feel his breath on the back of your neck. “Sorry, let me warm you up.”

He uses his Quirk and heats up the bed, and although you know it’s an innocent gesture, your mind can’t help but wander elsewhere

“Oh, um, thank you,” you whisper, relaxing in the warmth

“Of course.”

Little did you know, Shoto’s heart was beating a mile a minute, because he too didn’t want to scare his crush—you

Tamaki Amajiki

Tamaki stays in the hotel the entire day

It’s not that he doesn’t want to be with his friends; he’s afraid of getting lost or doing something to mess up the trip for his classmates

You stay with Tamaki in his room, chatting about whatever comes to mind

“Are you sure you want to stay? I don’t want to hold you back.”

“It’s alright, we have two days left anyway. I like being with you, Tamaki!”

He hides the blush growing on his face and you smile because of how cute he looks

Tamaki’s room only has one bed, which isn’t surprising, since it was noted one person would need to be alone due to the odd number of students

Problem was it wasn’t stated who would be alone

As you’re exploring his room, gawking at the view from the window and all the cool little knickknacks, you throw open the closet doors and freeze when you see your stuff

“Huh? Why is this here? Tamaki, did you take my bag on accident?”

“Ah, no! I only brought my stuff up, someone must’ve put it there by mistake.”

You call Nejire and ask about the rooms

“Hmm, it seems like you and Tamaki must’ve been given the same room. Sorry for not checking it over, do you want to be moved?”

“Ah, it’s fine, I guess.”

You and Tamaki try to go back to your conversation but you can tell how nervous he is since night is approaching quickly

Bedtime comes and Tamaki nearly screams when he feels your body pressed against his

Guilt washes over you; “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked. I’ll go down and get a cot.”

As you’re about to slip out from under the covers, Tamaki suddenly grabs your arm and buries his face in his pillow

“Uhm, (Y/N), i-it’s okay. Y-You can stay, uhm, ah-”

He opens one eye and quickly shuts it, pressing himself so far into the pillow you swear he’s going to suffocate

Confused, you look around, but there’s nothing in the room beside you two in the dark

It hits you— “Tamaki, are you… scared of the dark?”

“What, no! I-I-”

He lets out a little squeak when you stroke his hair, face inches from his

“It’s okay, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Dabi

You were a vigilante, an anti-hero who believed in helping others but despised the flashiness and celebrity status of pro heroes

Your Quirk, Feline, which gave you the characteristics of a cat, allowed you to work in the comfort of darkness where it was difficult to catch you

You rarely got injured due to your agility, but this night, your target had a Quirk that allowed them to see in the darkness, and left you stumbling down the street with a gash in your side

“Rough night, little kitty?”

Dabi stands under a streetlamp with a smirk

You and Dabi weren’t friends by any means, but you held a certain level of respect for him; part of it was so he wouldn’t cremate you

“Shut up,” you scowl. “I’m perfectly fine- hrgh.”

You press your hand over the wound, blood slipping past your fingers

Suddenly, Dabi throws you over his shoulder, your head knocking against his back as he carries you to his place

“What the fuck- Put me down!”

He lays you on the bed, uncharacteristically gentle, and cleans your wound with a towel

“Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not gonna let my little kitty walk around like this.”

Dabi covers your wound with a bandage and throws the blanket over you

It’s past midnight and you’re getting sleepy, but you realize you’ve taken up all the space on the bed

Plus, it’d be kind of weird to crash at the place of the man you barely know

“I’ll go then, thanks for the help.”

He pushes your shoulder and you fall against the pillows

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Home?”

“Not like that, kitty.” He circles around to the other side

“Where are you gonna sleep? There’s only one bed.”

“So?”

Dabi flops onto the mattress and slings one arm around your shoulders, tugging you close— “Go to sleep, kitty.”

Unable to move from the pain and his grip, you have no choice but to snuggle close

Despite his casual demeanor, your heightened sense of hearing amplified the rapid beating of his heart

A smile spreads across your face; this is gonna be great blackmail

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chaseatinydream · 3 years

Text

pirate king (13) || atz

“Master!” You burst into the sickbay, eyes brimming over with tears as you desperately search for that head of green hair that has grown so familiar to you. You ignore the stunned faces of some of the pirates who are getting their wounds treating, the concerned glances that some give you, only to see Seonghwa standing there with a basket of dirty cloths in his arms and a startled look on his face at the commotion.

Then he sees the tears tracks winding down your face and his expression melts into one of horrified concern, he puts the basket down and moves to reach for you.

You simply throw yourself into his arms without waiting for him and sob into his chest, openly weeping in full view of all the pirates in the sickbay. The cook staggers back a couple of steps from the force of your embrace, but manages to upright himself before the two of you go bowling over onto the floor.

Seonghwa is warm. He always has been. Gentle, kind, compassionate and tender-hearted. And you’ve never been so grateful for a man like him. He lets you cry, hands softly winding in your hair, a little confused as to why it’s suddenly several inches shorter and out of its usual braid. You hear Jongho’s heavy footsteps behind you on the wooden floor, and his face must say something because Seonghwa’s body stiffens, his embrace around you tightening just a little as he folds you into his arms.

“What did you do, Jongho?”

Seonghwa’s voice is deliberately neutral. He trusts Jongho, of course. But the last person you were with was indeed the young battlemaster and he knows Jongho is terribly awkward with new people. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jongho had said something silly on accident and ended up causing you to get upset.

But Jongho merely exhales uncomfortably, looking down at his boots. “We should talk about this in private.” His voice holds no room for argument.

Seonghwa frowns a little at this apparent need for privacy, long fingers gently stroking through your hair as your warm tears soak into his shirt sleeves. “Jihyun, help me call San and tell him to come to his room immediately.”

A tall pirate nods, rising to his feet. “Of course, Seonghwa-sunbae.” He moves off quickly, disappearing from sight. Seonghwa then puts an arm around your shoulders, sweetly ushering you into the backroom where you’ve been sleeping for the past couple of weeks and sits you down on San’s bed, wiping the tears from your eyes with a tender hand. Jongho follows behind, shutting the door firmly behind you.

You feel weak, boneless, as the words run through your mind again and again on repeat.

“You will never find what you so desperately seek as long as you live.”

You reach out a hand. Seonghwa looks puzzled for a moment, but you think the experience must have at least made you and Jongho closer somehow, because he understands immediately and clasps your hands gently, almost timidly in his, as if afraid that you might break if he uses too much force.

Jongho probably could crush a man’s skull with his bare hands, but he cradles your hand like it’s a newborn baby chick.

“Just before you get the wrong idea, hyung, I didn’t do anything.” The young battlemaster says firmly, but there is guilt lingering in his voice. You know it’s not because he did anything to you, but because he regrets making you visit the fortune teller in the first place.

Seonghwa frowns in confusion as he moves to light the lamp in the room. “Then why is s-” He coughs lightly as the smoke from the lamp gets into his eyes and nose. “Why is he so upset, Jongho?”

You curl up on San’s bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if that can stop you from falling apart.

The maknae opens his mouth to explain, but then San enters the room.

His face is smoothed over, carefully blank, but you can feel the pulse of his energy spiking erratically, feeling more like a burning stove rather than a warm radiance. Jongho and Seonghwa must both feel it as well, because they both stiffen minutely.

“Hyung, we need to talk-” Jongho begins to say, but San ignores him and makes a beeline straight for you, sitting next to you on the bed and patting his lap.

“Here.”

You don’t decline the invitation, laying your head in his lap and curling up beneath the sheets like you do every time you get nightmares. You press your nose against his side, and immediately the smell of him fills your lungs. Green tea, honey, and floral notes of ylang ylang and lavender mixed with the odd herb he’s been experimenting with combine to create a scent that is uniquely his, one that never fails to calm you down even in the fiercest of storms.

His hand comes to rest in your hair, carding through the strands gently.

Only when he’s sure that you’re no longer in hysterics and on the verge of a panic attack does he turn to Jongho with sharp piercing eyes.

“So, would you mind explaining to me why my apprentice is in this state?”

You feel bad for Jongho, having to endure all this questioning by himself when he technically was only trying to help you and encourage you, but San shushes you the second you open your mouth.

“I want to hear this from him.” His eyes don’t leave the young battlemaster.

“Well, do you guys remember the first time I came to Tortuga, I visited a fortune teller?” Jongho asks slowly. His hyungs exchange looks, and then Seonghwa nods hesitantly.

“Why?”

“I brought him to visit the fortune teller.” Jongho mutters quietly, his voice small. You realise that even though Jongho may be the strongest, best fighter on board, he still submits himself to the authority of his older brothers. “And the fortune teller said some things…”

San’s eyes narrow as his fingers continue to brush through your hair. Seonghwa seats himself at San’s work table to listen to what Jongho has to say.

“She something about a jar of clay… and some secret that would ruin our trust in her...” Jongho mutters, shaking his head.

San’s fingers freeze in your hair.

“I mean… The secret that stowaway’s actually a woman isn’t quite secret, am I right?”

A terrified squeak leaves your mouth, momentarily pulling you out of your daze. You jerk up, staring at Jongho with wide eyes and your mouth hanging open in horror. Seonghwa shrugs in response to the maknae’s words.

“I did find out rather recently, so I suppose it’s no longer secret within us three then.”

You gulp. San stiffens slightly, but then you can feel his muscles relaxing next to you. “How did you find out, hyung?”

“When she hugged me earlier.” Seonghwa replies easily, much to your shock. Then he pauses, glancing at you hesitantly. “I could feel her… ah, chest through her clothes. I apologise deeply for any inappropriate actions I might have done under the impression you were a man.”

Your cheeks catch aflame as you stare at the cook in a mixture of both horror and embarrassment, your mouth opening and closing like a dying fish. Jongho’s nose scrunches up at his words.

“That’s gross, hyung.”

Seonghwa sputters incoherently at his dongsaeng’s words, looking like a rapidly reddening tomato. “Well, excuse me for not knowing she was a woman! How about you say how you figured it out?”

Jongho halts in all action immediately, jaw working furiously. His own cheeks have started turning apple red, and he looks away to the side, mumbling under his breath.

“When the fortune teller grabbed her shirt, I saw-”

You bury your face in a pillow to hide your embarrassment and scream. At this point, you don’t know what you are. Confused, shocked, mortified, everything. All you know you want to do is to crawl into a hole in the ground and slowly rot away, but then you then you remember you’re at sea in a ship and there is no hole in the ground for you to die in.

To your surprise, however, Jongho and Seonghwa don’t seem to be very affected by the fact that you are a woman. Jongho continues rambling on in spite of your mounting embarrassment.

“-her chest, okay? Well, not really her chest, but the bindings around her chest and I kind of guessed-”

“Okay, okay, we get it!” San covers your ears frantically before you can hear any more. “Let’s get back to the fortune teller bit. Jongho, do you remember everything she said?”

“Pretty much.” The young battlemaster turns to Seonghwa. “Hyung, do you think you could help me write it down before I forget?’

The cook picks up one of the stray quills on San’s worktable, pulling over a piece of blank paper. “Alright.”

Taking a deep breath, Jongho begins to recite the words from memory.

“Oh nameless one, child of the sea, you’re missing something very important to you.”

“Stowaway doesn’t have a name, so it does seem accurate.” Seonghwa mutters grimly, San nodding in agreement. The two of them are completely focused, intent on figuring out what the cryptic words of the fortune teller mean.

The sight warms you immensely despite the daze you’re in.

“And she is a pirate now, so the part of her being a child of the sea fits.” San adds, leaning his head on your shoulder. You shrug.

“She’s an amnesiac, so she’s missing her memories. We’ve solved the first bit. That’s good.” Jongho glances at the page as Seonghwa scribbles down their interpretation of the fortune teller’s words.

A frown tugs at his lips as he continues. “The secret you keep will ruin the trust you built. That’s the bit about her being a woman, isn’t it?”

Seas, it was weird hearing Jongho referring to you as her instead of he.

“I don’t see anything else that could be it.” San mutters thoughtfully, but Seonghwa cuts in.

“She could hear the voice of the sea monster that was chasing us the other time.”

Jongho’s jaw hits the ground. “You could do what?”

It almost amuses you how the young battlemaster is more shocked at the fact you could hear the sea monster’s voice as compared to the fact that you are a woman.

“Yeah.” You mumble under your breath, but Jongho’s eyes are huge with awe.

“That’s so cool!” For a moment, Jongho looks like the eighteen year old boy he is, still young, excitable, not quite a man yet, but he quickly catches himself and clears his throat. “Well, moving on. To pass the trial, one must cross into death and awaken into life. The biggest obstacle to overcome is yourself.”

He glances around at all of you. “That sounds cryptic and completely unhelpful. And I have absolutely no idea what it means.”

“What trial do you think the fortune teller could be talking about?” San scratches at his hair, frowning as he racks his mind. Seonghwa shrugs, just as confused.

“Well then. I suppose we could just leave this here for now.” Jongho mutters, shaking his head in disappointment. “A jewel resting in a jar of clay. That was when she went bat shit crazy and started shaking our stowaway here, demanding to know who’d made her.”

“Who made her?” Seonghwa questions, looking utterly bewildered as he jots them down. You feel your skin crawl at the words again. There seems to be some sort of significance to it that you can feel, something your mind screams at you to remember, but you can’t.

“She referred to stowaway as a ‘vessel that has only existed for a moon’, whatever the hell that meant.” Jongho supplies helpfully, and you feel San stiffen beside you.

Seonghwa looks equally uncomfortable as he glances at you. “A moon?” He repeats, hesitantly. You don’t know what the fortune teller was indicating when she said you had supposedly existed for a moon, but you don’t think she was referring to the silvery orb in the sky.

Your master frowns. “What I guess the fortune teller was referring to was a moon cycle. A vessel that has existed for a moon cycle.”

“Yes,” Seonghwa begins to argue, gesturing at you. “But how can she only have existed for one moon cycle?”

The two stare at each other for a while, both having some sort of internal battle as to what it could be. You tap Jongho’s arm frantically.

“How long is a moon cycle?”

At your question, Jongho swallows uncomfortably and looks away from you. “A little over twenty eight days.”

You feel like someone has just slapped you across the face.

Twenty eight days?

Your face must be a real sight, because San and Seonghwa immediately rush to comfort you.

“It could just mean that you’ve been without your memory for that long.”

“Yes! I mean, you can’t be that young. Don’t worry about it. It must be interpretation.”

You nod your head absentmindedly, still in some sort of daze. “Right.” Seonghwa gives Jongho a chastening look for revealing something that affected you so much. The young battlemaster mumbles an apology under his breath.

Then San sighs, rubbing his temples. “Honestly, we should ask Yeosang for help with this. No one on this ship is as good with cryptic nonsense, long, complicated words and obscure references as he.”

Jongho nods agreement. “Sometimes I don’t even understand what hyung is saying.”

You nod slowly. To be honest with yourself, you don’t really know what you’d do without these people by your side. Even Jongho, who you’ve just begun to talk to today, has been nothing but infinitely kind and helpful to you. You almost want to slap your past self for being such a fool, for even thinking he could have a bad bone in him.

“Thank you.” Your words come out a little choked with emotion, but the three of them accept it all the same. San doesn’t say anything, but just pats your head as usual.

Seonghwa beams at you gently. “It’s no problem, stowaway. You’re part of the family now. We’d do anything in our power to help you.”

Jongho looks at you seriously. “Wait… but we forgot one last thing. The sea witch.”

Sea witch.

Seonghwa flinches while San shudders, shoulders curling inwards. You frown at the two of them, a little unnerved by their reactions towards the word. The sea witch can’t be very terrifying, can she? Magic tended to be nothing more than the arcane, and from what Jongho has told you, only rare people like San are able to use this inner energy to their benefit.

“What is it?”

“The sea witch.” San echoes, drumming his fingers on his thigh absentmindedly. “We should probably ask Yeosangie more about this before you start to get any ideas, but if the myths are true… the sea witch is a being of immense power that lives on an island that only people in great desperation can find, surrounded by the sirens who serve her.”

“I read the legend of her when I was a child.” Seonghwa turns to you with a mixed look of both pity and worry. “The sea witch bargains with many beings, both supernatural and mortal, to make a deal. In the story I read, she gave a mermaid legs to be with the man she loved but took her voice.”

A deal.

Jongho meets your gaze, both your eyes drawn to the same object, the tiny crystal hanging at the end of your necklace.

The symbol of your bargain with the sea witch.

A headache starts throbbing at your temples, and you furiously rub at them, trying to ease the pain. Seonghwa notices almost at once and rises to his feet.

“We should let him-” He corrects himself. “-her rest.” San and Jongho nod agreement as they both rise to their feet.

“We’ll talk about this another day, apprentice.” San murmurs softly to you as you lie back on his bed, pulling the covers up to your nose. “We’ll talk to Yeosangie about this first, alright? He has a lot of books in Hongjoongie-hyung’s cabin, I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“Ok.” Your voice is small, and San gives you a warm smile before leaving the room, Jongho behind him.

But only Seonghwa lingers in the room for a moment, looking conflicted once more.

“What’s wrong, hyung?”

The cook looks at you for a long, silent moment before he speaks.

“You should tell the crew you’re a woman soon.”

Your chest seizes up. Yes, you know that Seonghwa and Jongho didn’t especially mind that you were one, and neither did they begrudge you for keeping this secret, but you knew not everyone would be this understanding.

“Especially captain.”

You swallow nervously.

“I will.”

Seonghwa manages a last, weak smile at you before turning to leave. As you lie under the covers, you wonder what might happen if Hongjoong did take the fact that you were a woman badly.

What if he left you in some town like he’d promised to do the last time?

No. No. You couldn’t have that. Not when you’d just started finding constructive clues to your past, not when you’d just started gaining family.

You needed to wait. Not now. You couldn’t tell them now.

The secret you keep will ruin the trust you built.

It was a decision you would later come to regret.

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ellohcee · 3 years

Text

Call Me

Okay so I want to throw this little bit out into the universe of one of my favorite instances of Jasper I've written. Context: He's a host for a dinky late night radio show and he has like... 10-15 listeners max and David is one of them, a college student who Can’t Sleep even between classes and his job, so he’s up late late listening to Jasper’s show. He calls in sometimes because Jasper is always offering advice and encouraging people to call in and chat, specifically about LGBTQ topics and David finds comfort and encouragement in their chats. They’ve been talking for a while but he still goes by the name Red.

- - - -

“Alright you night owls, this next one goes out to my long lost buddy, Red.”

David looked up at the radio in surprise, his pencil stilling on the page.

“It’s been a while since we’ve heard from ya and we miss you dude. And I’m gonna get hella gay up in here, but that’s on brand for me, I miss you.”

David’s breath caught in his throat painfully, his heart hammering.

“So I hope you catch this, give us a call, let me know how you’re doing buddy I’m dyin’ here, don’t leave me hanging. Cause I’ve got a question for you and you wont know what until you gimme a ring. Yes I’m gonna be that guy. So call. Please.”

The music picked back up, and true to Jasper’s word, Blondie’s Call Me started playing.

The pencil had slipped from his fingers without realizing as David tried to decipher all of that, especially that last, sincere please. Jasper missed his calls? Maybe he was just worried because David had dropped off so suddenly. It had just been too nerve wracking once he realized he was crushing on the radio host. But what could Jasper possibly want to ask him? Was it good or bad?

He was still nervous and the idea of calling in downright terrified him now, but… he at least owed it to Jasper to let him know he was alive. It must have looked bad, for him to be consistently calling about once a week and then suddenly stop with no warning, going on nearly two months of silence now. Jasper was always so nice and seemingly happy to talk to him, he must be worried. Gosh, now he had to call, he felt terrible.

David had to take several steadying breaths and about twenty good minutes to work up the nerve, but he managed to eventually press call, hands shaking as he listened to the phone ring.

“What’s up caller you’re live, how’s it hangin?”

“Um, hi...” he said quietly.

He heard a soft intake of air and a shuffle. “That you Red?” Jasper asked, sounding hopeful, the excited smile evident in his voice.

“Y-yes, it’s me,” David replied.

“Aw, buddy, good to hear your voice again man, I was gettin’ worried bout you.”

“I’m so sorry I- just- life, you know?” David hedged, feeling even more guilty because he couldn’t give an honest explanation.

“I feel that, it’s cool dude, it’s just good to hear from ya. I assume you heard my call out?”

David’s heart started beating faster, so, so antsy. If it weren’t for the guilt of worrying Jasper he probably wouldn’t have had the guts to call, but he could still be a wreck about it, easily. “Yes, I did. You... had a question?”

“Yeah! You don’t mind me askin’ live?”

“Um, sure, that’s fine,” David said nervously. It couldn’t be too bad if it was something Jasper could ask on air. Right?

“Sweet. So. Last we talked your rough waves from the coming out thing were settling. You found a boyfriend yet?” the radio host asked casually.

David eyebrows shot up in surprise, his face going so very red and he was so very grateful this was a phone call, not in person because that would make it ten times worse. “Um- n-no, I- I haven’t… um, no,” he stammered uselessly. Why was this the topic??

“Awesome!” Jasper said in delight, leading to an awkward pause. “Wow fuck that sounded hella mean I am so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Cheese and crackers, foot in mouth Jasp, good one. Anyway! I just meant because- like, stop me if this is too weird, or hang up on me, but I was wondering if I could like… take ya on a date?”

David’s heart stopped in surprise, the blush that had just started receding coming back full force. His stomach whirled in a mix of dread and excitement, trying to go one way or the other as his brain stalled for a good long moment-

“Red?”

David sucked in a breath. “Is- are you- are you serious?” he asked softly, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“Course dude!! I wouldn’t fuck around with you like that, hell no! I’m for super serious!”

“But… we’ve- you- you don’t even know what I look like,” David stammered, trying to find reason to turn him down, but so, so desperately wanting to say yes. He felt stupid for saying it the second it left his mouth, Jasper didn’t seem at all the type to place a lot of importance on appearances.

“I don’t need to! I’m sure you’re rad as hell, but I’m not a looks guy, okay? I like your personality, and I love shootin the shit with you, and you’re super nice. That’s the kinda stuff I’m into, and if you’re hella cute, which I’m sure you are, that’s a bonus!”

David stared down at his desk for a long moment, his thoughts a mess, one hand over his mouth as he took this all in. He had to take a moment to pinch the soft skin on the inside of his arm to decide that this was really happening and he hadn’t passed out at his desk into some dream where his crush happened to reciprocate-

“Reeeddd?” Jasper teased softly after another long pause, bringing him out of his panic spiral. “No pressure my dude, you can say no.”

“Yes,” David blurted shakily.

“Yeah??” Jasper asked, his voice picking up in obvious excitement and relief, despite his apparent brace for a rejection. “For real?”

“Y-yes, I’d… I’d like to,” David said softly, his face still red.

“Aw man, awesome, shit. Okay uh- no PI on air so uh- I go off air at 3, you’re usually up pretty late, yeah? Think you’ll be around?”

“Yes, I should be.”

“Supes, call back when you hear me sign off and we’ll hash stuff out, okay? Or at least do personal numbers to talk during the day.”

“O-okay,” David stammered, his mind whirling. “I’ll do that.”

“Sweet. Okay man, you sound a little wigged out so I’ll let you get back, and I will be counting the minutes til sign off,” Jasper teased.

“Okay, um, talk to you later? Bye.”

“Ta-ta for now!” Jasper sung.

David disconnected the call, his pulse still racing as he listened to Jasper on the radio once more, turning the volume back up just in time to hear.

“Oh my god, wack, holy shit you guys he said yes- fuck he’s probably listening and I sound like a giant goober- hi Red! Okay, anymore callers before we go back to music? Holy shitballs.”

A quick, incredulous laugh escaped his mouth before David could stifle it, his chest swirling with fear and elation. Jasper- Jasper had asked him on a date- and he sounded just as rattled as David felt. That helped a little to know it wasn’t just him- Jasper had just been loads better keeping a cap on his nerves while they were talking.

“You’re up caller!”

David came back from his thoughts when he heard a familiar voice, one of Jasper’s other regular callers.

“Oooooh Jasper asked a boy on a daaatteee~” she teased in delight.

“I know oh my god dude I’m still weak from it, I didn’t wanna mess up with Red but I like… really want to meet him and take him out, especially once he stopped calling? And no offense Red if you’re still there it’s TOTALLY cool cause that woke my ass up! Holy shit I still can’t believe he said yes.”

David listened all throughout the rest of Jasper’s show, all thoughts of homework lost as he leaned his elbows on the desk, hands clasped in front of his mouth. Anticipation made his nerves spike again while sitting through Jasper’s familiar sign off, where he bid goodnight to his listeners and started the after hours playlist. David waited a minute before taking a deep, deep breath and pressing the call button.

It rang only once before the line picked up, and a hopeful voice answered. “Red?”

“H-hi Jasper,” he replied.

“Hey dude! Hey, sorry to put you on the spot like that but- y’know, I figured it would be less creepy to everyone to just be upfront and ask you, instead of being like ‘hey call me after hours hoohoo wink wink,’ ya dig?”

David stifled a giggle, smiling. “I understand. It probably would’ve made me more nervous to have to wait that long, wondering what your question was,” he admitted.

“That too! I wanted to just… put it out there, figured it’d be best. So! You’re really cool with going on a date?”

“Yes, I… I’d like that. To meet you,” he added softly, flushed.

“Rad, okay, nice. So let’s just exchange numbers for tonight? I know you might not sleep anyway but it’s friggen late and I don’t want to keep either of us up too long.”

“That sounds good, I don’t want to keep you up either,” David replied. He gave his number first when Jasper gave the go-ahead, listening to the other man hum as he typed it into his phone, and a few moments later David heard a buzz near his ear.

“I just shot you a text so you have my number and can add me.”

“Got it,” David replied, pulling the phone away briefly to see a text notification at the top of the screen, a short string of peace sign emojis that made him smile.

“Awesome sauce. Well- shit, I’m really excited but again, we can talk later. Try to get some sleep, okay dude?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned and losing his usual casual tone. “I worry bout you.”

David smiled, touched by the thought. “I’ll try.”

“Okay, I’ll text you sometime tomorrow- today, whatever, much later. Give you a chance to snooze. Night Red, and thanks for- you know. Thanks. Night!”

“Goodnight Jasper, and thank you too,” he replied softly.

“No prob, catch ya later.”

David pulled the phone away and ended the call, his heart still hammering as he tried to comprehend everything. But he decided to pack it away for later, turning off the radio and closing the long abandoned textbook. Hopefully he could get a few hours of sleep and be a tiny bit more composed when he next spoke with Jasper.

Doubtful, but it was a nice thought.

#camp camp #cc david #cc jasper #jaspvid #ellowrites #but for real this is like #the most best i've ever been able to channel my vision of jasper?#when they meet for their date he's wearing that stupid bowling alley carpet shirt and i just #god it's so jasper #also a great example of me abusing the dash symbol #but it's my staple #also mentioning way too often about the state of david's heart but he's a sleep deprived nervous wreck SO

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smortbokuto · 3 years

Text

Guilt.

warnings: my shit writing, fluff?? angst to the fucking bones, major character death, mentions of death, implied cheating.

pairings: ushijima x oikawa, iwaizumi x oikawa.

a/n: enjoy my trash <3

summary: realizations always hits in the end yet hits hard. Oikawa regrets his actions and will keep regretting for his whole life..

word count: 3.6k

Sequel

❛19th January, 2023.❜

Key rattled in the keyhole as he turned them open, the voice a bit to loud for the mood. creaking the door open of his once shared apartment, with him. putting down the umbrella, which had frozen dews decorating its covers, he raided the area with tired eyes.

The windows, dusty and tainted, allowing slight light to bleed into the room, the dusty floor, marked with different stains, being illuminated. the couches covered with a pale cloth, preventing them from getting dirty. the shelf in the other corner were properly visible with spider webs all over. the rug, that was once sparkling clean now looked like had hardened mud and slit all over.

taking off his overcoat and hooking it over the rusty hooks embedded over the wall with torn off wallpapers just adjacent to the entry. nostalgia had hit him like a boulder falling over something much smaller and frail, completely crushing him as he saw all the unevenly hanging frames with them. smiling. happy.

why, why? why. why?! why??

padding into the room he scrunched his nose in frustration at the creaking sound of the wooden flooring. god, he was so used to the marble ones now. this was so annoying. so weird.

why was he even here? ah, in a week new residents will being coming here to start a new life. just like how they both had started 6 years ago...

'hope they don't end up like me' he made a mental note to wish the new family his best wishes for their journey they were going to go on.

sighing he strode towards the shelf. the lights flickered for a tad bit longer than they were supposed to. smoothly he started to pick up all the frames, empty, with photos (memories), or broken, and tossed them into the box he had brought along. what of he left them here? will the new family know about his sins of the past? he doesn't know.

moving further inside he kept picking up all the small items of misery (memories) and tossing them into the box. he wished them to burn to ashes. Oikawa just couldn't stand the pictures, the letters, the small items, gifts, souvenirs he had received by Iwaizumi in the past. with a white face he kept collecting all the stuff from room to room in a way to wipe away the remnants of the life they both had created.

cursing mentally as he stood in front of the last room, bedroom. a place where they shared everything, emotions, bodies, love, everything. entering the room he took a deep breath, eyes tight shut as he felt a suffocating gust hit his face. his breath hitched in his throat as he saw an all too familiar room. he could see his 'wasted' years in this room, doing everything and anything.

he worked upon collecting all the stuff he wanted to get rid of. he wanted to get rid of his existence. he was so close to it. he could start a new life. a free one. just a bit of fuel and a spark of flame.

after what felt like ages he felt content with the filled boxes with all the soon to be burned memories.

free? free. free!

a satisfied breath left his lungs, turning into a hazy white puff as it mixed into the chilly atmosphere of the room. the sun had already gone down with the rise of a crescent moon hanging in the sky with gloomy grey clouds. an indication to a snowy day that comes along.

snow?

his heart pang in the traps of his ribs at the thought.

┊a smiled crept on the shorter male's face, face flushed in soft hues of pink as he scrambled out from the warmth of the bed, dragging his feet towards the glass window that were draped with soft white silk curtains.

"Toru, wake up." he had called out to the sleeping male, curled up in the bed who just groaned at the call of his name.

"what is it?" voice raspy, he drawled out.

"it snowed! its so pretty outside." he chided, his morning voice heavy yet a hint of excitement laced with it. ┊

snow. his favorite time of the season. Iwaizumi's happy season.

clicking his tongue, that had the room echo with the voice he tried to forget the small memory he reminisced just now. distracting himself he looked around the room for the last time.

'nothing should be left behind..'

nodding to himself he stood up from the bed edge he had been sitting, leaving the room. once and for all.

free.

free?

his leg hit the nightside stand, the dusty lamp disbalancing and falling down. ignoring he broken pieces he picked up the head of the lamp to keep it back only for his eyes to get stuck at the small opening of the drawer.

nope.

opening the drawer slowly his eyes widened at the slightly stained hardcover diary comfortably lying caged in there.

he knows. he knows too well to not reach for it. to not open it. to not trace the pages with the tips of his fingers. to not read the date entry.

yet, he did it.

❝7th December, 2018.

today it snowed. it looked so ethereal outside. today is special for me. its the first time it snowed while my living with Toru. I wish to see more days like these with him.

-Hajime.❞

The first entry of the page.

"tsk, what's the point to write it down?" the brunette vocalized his thoughts. the thought of writing something so trivial sounded so stupid. why would he even to take the pain to write it all?

and so he flipped to the next page.

smoothing out the page he hummed as he felt Iwaizumi's clear writing under the cold touch of his fingers. so selfish.

he read all the pages. all the dates. all the events.

their first slow dance together in the dim living room on a summer evening, their first time on a rainy night, their first fight on a mid autumn season and how Hajime wished to fix it as soon as possible. everything was there in it.

it was always about them. never him alone. oikawa was always a spotlight.

humming in satisfaction that maybe, just maybe, he will be free. glad at the fact that iwaizumi didn't hold a grudge against him in any of these small snippets of life jotted down neatly in a captive of pale pages and hard covers.

pages fluttered as he flipped to another page. his brows furrowing as he found the page blank.

flip. then another and another and another. all of them were blank. pale and empty. his heart clenched and stung at the empty pages. it felt like a void of emotions. not his emotions but his long ago lovers'.

he flipped again, pupils dilating slightly as he saw a new date entry. but his stomach churned as he read the date.

❛11th September, 2020.❜

A whole year? from writing everyday, why was there a pause of a whole year? he flipped back to the previous empty pages. the pages weren't torn then why a year gap?

'unusual..'

but he shook away the feeling and flipped back to the new entry that he was yet to read.

❝I miss him... he has been working so much. i am happy that he is doing something he loves but its been long since we had done anything like we used to do...❞

a rush of guilt travelled through the span of his veins. he had fell out of love weeks before this new entry. but- did Iwaizumi knew about this fact?

┊8th July, 2020,

"will you tell him about us?" a gruff voice spoke, lying on the same comfort of bed that oikawa shared with iwaizumi. the respective owner of the voice stared up at the naked form of the brunette who was indulging himself in smoking and puffing out his lungs. a try to erase out the smell of sex? maybe.

"not yet..." oikawa slurred out as he puffed another heavy thick smoke into the traps of the four walled room "..he is too blind in love to even think about me doing such thing."

"you are not being fair with him." the voice spoke again after silence covered over the room.

"listen," he was pissed. oikawa was pissed at the accusation. he knew it was right, the accusation but he didn't want to accept that. the fact that he had fell out of love. "it's literally my life and my lover, i don't need your opinion about it, Ushijima."┊

guilt filled his system at the thought about how sick and vile his move was against someone who loved him unconditionally.

if only he had tried harder. harder to be a better person, a better partner and a better human. but he didn't. pathetic.

feeling the guilt pump up in him he flipped the page again. empty, blank, pale pages. again.

❝17th November, 2020.

Its still the same... he returns late home. we don't eat our meals together, our talks are short and have no emotions that it used to carry. i miss it. i miss it all. i will wait.❞

"why? what the fuck are you trying to do here. Hajime? are you trying to give me a guilt trip?" he voiced his deafening thoughts. how selfish of Iwaizumi to take such a step against him. his own lover.

"its working. so stop..." his voice wavered. was he really qualified enough to be labeled as a 'lover' for Hajime? after what all he had done to the other man he deserved it.

"stop. I don't deserve it." he does. he does deserve it. he knows it too well.

he flipped. then flipped. sobs raked his body as he read all the different dates all throughout the winter season of that dreaded years, 2020. he read Iwaizumi's thought, insecurities on maybe he was not good enough for Oikawa and how maybe he was done with him but staying with him out of pity.

He flipped to the page where an all too familiar date was jotted down. He remembers everything. every action he had taken that might have ruined iwaizumi bit by bit.

┊9th April, 2021.

the keys jingled as they clashed with the glass key holder in the porch area. the brunette ran his fingers through his hair and sighed out tiredly. 'work' was exhausting.

"hey." a low voice greeted him at the end of the hallway.

"hi, have you eaten?" oikawa replied back as fast as possible not wanting to hear any questions from the man standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest.

"he shorted man shook his head. "i was waiting for you."

"i was out with my friend after practice, we have already eaten. you should eat too." he didn't know the heaviness of the words he had thrown on the other male.

"oh, that's fine." Iwaizumi smiled as he tried to take in and digest whatever was thrown over him by the taller male. "by the way, i got a present for you. it's kept in the bedroom."

"present for what? what's the occasion?" oikawa was quick to whip his head to the direction of the other male, who had his back turned at him as he fumbled around the kitchen.

there was a silence, an awkward and a heavy one.

Oikawa, now anxious, took a step forward "hey, ushijim- Hajime, what's the present for?" shit. shit for fuck sake he messed up.

"hm? what?" displaying an act of not catching he turned to face oikawa, the soft smile never faltering his features.

oikawa was quick to repeat the question. to which iwaizumi casually told him it was their anniversary.

"it's okay, you have been working a lot." he had stated.┊

maybe if Oikawa was true to the man. maybe if he had tried harder to love him more and in a correct manner he wouldn't be reading this. maybe if he had given iwaizumi what he had deserved.

❝9th April, 2021.

oh, i was right... it hurts to know i was not good enough but maybe i deserved it. i hope he is happy with this other guy he is with.❞

his heart dropped to his stomach. why was he accepting that? he knew when he had uttered out that other mans' name then why didn't he confront? why did he stay quiet? why didn't he ask him to leave?

why? why? why? why?!

and then no answer to these why's.

his body went numb at how blindly Iwaizumi stood there for him even knowing he was an option. second one.

flip.

he sobbed more as he kept tuning the pages. few pale blank empty and few with dates and entries were he was not good enough for oikawa and he could have been better.

"Its not your fault. its not. stop!" finally breaking down he sobbed into the diary, staining the pages with his tears.

❝19th July, 2021.

i was... diagnosed. glioblastoma (GBM). it was undiagnosed all this time and... how will i tell this to Toru?❞

"why?! why are you still thinking about me??? you were-" too much. thats the right word for what he was feeling at the moment. how could he still love him and think about him even though he was practically dying? just why?

all the memories flooded in. all the years of time they took to build a loving relationship only for oikawa to burn it down in one day, over a fucked up reason.

it could have been so easy if iwaizumi had confronted and cut ties then and there only. he was being selfish.

there was a strong urge to just burn the diary there only and act like it all never happened. it was so easy to do it.

but,

can he really do it?

no, he is ought to drown in all the pending guilt and regrets that had been filling up all his holes, draining into his system till it was overflowing. he has to suffer.

he flipped yet another page.

❝27th August, 2021.

i have regrets. i don't want to carry them with me to a new journey. I wanted to love oikawa the way he deserved. i wanted to be him only. its selfish, i know. i was supposed to propose him on our anniversary. i was supposed to care for him and grow old and gray with him. it was all about him. it will always be about him. i love you Toru... i always will. i will be leaving soon. i want to watch you from the sidelines but i can't, not anymore. i will look at you and cheer for you still. be happy, okay?❞

was this really how it was supposed to end?

"why? why didn't you ever tell me about this?" his breath came out ragged and labored. it didn't matter right now.

❝16th September, 2021.

i still love you but i can't burden you with what i am going through not when you are finally happy. i happy that you can confine in someone now. i love you and i always will.❞

those were just mere words written over dead pages by someone that didn't exist. not anymore. then why was it affecting so much? why did it feel like all the words were the boulders that kept stacking on and on over Oikawa's lean body?

there were so many whys and no one to answer...

his last memory flashed before his red puffy eyes.

┊18th September, 2021.

the balls smashed hard against the gym floors. sneakers squeaking against the polished floors.

hair hanging over his forehead oikawa flopped down on the floor. leaning back on one arm as he sipped harshly through his bottle. he let out a satisfied hum as his thirst was satiated only to stop mid tracks as he heard a muffled vibration coming from his bag flopped beside him.

rummaging and fishing the phone out as easy as any other task but when he saw the familiar number flash he was hesitant. nonetheless he answered only for his throat to go parch at the not so familiar voice reporting something he could never imagine of.

"you were on Mr. Iwaizumi's contact. he is in emergency right now. he had collapsed during his regular visit here so please come here as soon as possible." the line was dead then.

hastily packing his stuff he ran out the doors and reached his car. his mind running miles per hour. questions filling his head up to a level where it was hard to breathe.

reaching there he grimaced as the smell of countless death and sterile filled his senses.

"are you Mr. Oikawa?" the voice came up from behind as he was filling up his entry at the reception. whipping his head back he met a man, much older than him, in white coat who looked concerned and... sorry?

"yes. yes i am. what happened?!" he trailed behind the doctor like any lost puppy would do with a stranger who was friendly enough to pet it only to get kicked in the guts.

the doctor stopped after few rooms passed. sighing he removed his glasses and hung them over his chest pockets giving it a company with two pens that were sitting comfortably in it. "he is, uh, critical. he used to come here for treatment due to his frequent headaches. today was different. he collapsed while we were going through some tests. looking into it, there are multiple organ failure right now. not much is left for him." it felt like the world has come to an end. the floor beneath hem felt like it had moved, eating him alive.

pushing past the doctor he entered the room. eyes blowing up at the view he was welcomed to. a man, so strong and healthy, tied to all sorts of machines, a tube, a mere fucking tube, helping him breathe.

"Ha- Hajime...." he could only whisper out softly. but only to response.

he looked so pale, so lifeless, his heart barely even doing its only job. it was cold to touch him, the normal warmth was not there anymore. even after trying to warm up his hand he couldn't bring the missing warmth back again. not anymore.

"please- please tell me what happened.."

there was a heavy silent. a deafening one. nothing was audible other than the faint beeps and slowed breathing of the man on the cold bed of the hospital.

he was not going to leave like this. he is not that pathetic and weak to just die on his lover. not before he could tell him he loved him and he always will. no matter what.

but?

he can't speak.

now what? love is something that doesn't need to be conveyed through words.

his cold thumb brushed over the warm knuckles of the man standing beside him. he looked like he was falling apart. oikawa's brown warm gaze widened as he looked down at iwaizumi. he looked like he was taking his last breath. he looked like he was ready to start a new journey. he looked happy. his eyes showed nothing but love. it kept showing love as his eyes dilated and stilled. the touch still reflected love even if it went limp and cold.┊

another sob. then another and another and another. he sobbed there. curling into himself. all the tears tasted like guilt and regret. none of them were salty.

"why did you tell the doc to not tell me about the disease???" he cried out. his lungs burned. they begged him to breathe but he couldn't.

regrets were there. guilt was there.

"i am sorry i was so selfish."

he thought he could be free of them. he was tied down. forever. no matter what.

maybe if he loved him properly. maybe if he loved him the way he deserved.

maybe if he loved the man named Iwaizumi Hajime.

too late.

#oikawa haikyuu #oikawa toru #oikawa x iwaizumi #oikawa angst #iwaizumi angst #oikawa x ushijima #angst #fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu angst #iwaoi angst #iwaoi fluff

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nissakii · 3 years

Text

Goodbye my dream- pt.15 [Haikyuu!!]

It has been a while since I had any dreams at all, and now that I finally was able to remember there was nothing at all beside a black silhouette which seemed to stare up at something.

Everything was white and I was even afraid to step forward since there was basically nothing to step on, no contours, no contrast, only white and the silhouette several steps in front of me.

When I decided to finally step forward it felt like despite the looks the ground that didn’t differ from anything else in this nothingless made my step echo back loudly, almost like water dripping echoes in a room sometimes, just like that my steps were the only sound amplified here.

The question is: what is here?

As I stepped closer the silhouette stopped buckling over as if in pain and turned its head towards me the features made me stop immediately before I could touch the shoulder of a girl that looked like-

"Ah", was the only sound that escaped her mouth before she turned completely and giggled, "that's a rare sight isn't it? Even weirder since people usually don't see themselves in dreams!"

An eerily identical version of myself stood in front of me only that her clothes had reversed colors than mine, she cracked a wide smile while her eyes looked unsettling.

"You know I'm you despite that you think it's weird… I mean you only get to see yourself in the mirror from time to time", she turned around and made a victorious pose, "but seeing a live-version of the moving real deal is unbelievable."

Is that how I sound?

Is my voice like that?

"Do I really move that way?

Do I look like that?", she continued my thoughts in synchronization to what I was about to think next.

I stepped back immediately.

"oh", she titled her head and her eyes wandered up gazing at the non-existing sky, "I guess you didn't expect this… Let me see, ah yes I got an idea."

Happily she clapped her hands and held them together pointing at me.

"I am sure you are much more happy", her body became a gray mass almost like water that bubbled and turned into a much taller figure.

The figure started to form wearing a black school uniform and now the face of a gray-haired man with a mole under his eye greeted me, "to see this one right? I must have been very insensitive to not get that, begone scared face and get that smile here."

Despite that I surely knew that this Sugawara right here and now looked exactly like him and sounded like him I still couldn't fully believe it.

Something is wrong, very wrong here.

This doesn't happen usually…

And I clearly saw it wasn't Sugawara before.

It's not the same.

"hm? Still not satisfied? I am sure that everything should be under perfect condition right now. If you keep that scared face I think we might lose time sooner or later", his face seemed very hurt as he tried to force a smile on his face, "and we really don't want it to happen again after having the chance to meet like this."

It's not Sugawara, it's not Sugawara.

A sigh escaped his mouth before the same procedure as before happened now shifting into an even taller figure revealing a blonde boy with glasses.

He held his head and shook it, giving me a disgusted look.

"Are you really that stupid? Why are you making it so complicated?", was the first thing Tsukishima said as he crossed his arms.

"Everything is perfect, why are you fussing about it?", he pointed at me and I shook my head.

"Because I basically saw that you are not Tsukishima nor Sugawara", I muttered before he shifted into another person I recognized as Kageyama.

"Moron, this isn't about that at all. If you cannot keep dreams together then you are of no use to me. I would much rather dream all of it by myself if it means for it to be a successful dream", he crossed his arms and towered over me as he shot me the darkest glare I ever saw on his face.

I saw Kageyama twice up until now and not once did he say something like this to me…

Out of my vision I saw that it was now Hinata standing in front of me giving me a look that sent chills down my spine, "Why are you so surprised? Kageyama, Tsukki and everyone else are all like that. It's nothing new, maybe you are the one who was wrong all the time?”, and back to Yachi who played with her hands and didn’t even dare to meet my eyes as she looked up from time to time.

“I mean… even though you had Akaashi, Ushijima, Oikawa and Kuroo explain to you so much, it’s really sad”, she shrieked before turning back to the initial figure that was supposed to be me.

“So who should it be next? Who do you want to choose next? Someone with a big heart and softcore?”, the bubbly silhouette turned into a huge man with a man-bun and beard, “Ah no nevermind you never asked for him in the first place, you think he is not useful right now, don’t you?”, Asahi rubbed his neck with a sad and anxious expression like his heart was about to break.

“That’s not true, I didn’t choose who I would-”

“You didn’t?”, the bubbling intensified and a cat with cream-coloured fur mixed with black and brown spots stared up at me, “well that was a flat-up lie, kind-of.”

While the bubbling substance grew bigger and bigger, it took much longer to manifest before splitting into many balls of the same substance each becoming one's own figure.

“Isn’t that more exciting?”, the first figure to step closer was someone I recognized as Terushima as he faced his palms towards me.

“...”, another one with no eyebrows towered over me making me feel small and intimidated.

What is this?

Why are there so many people?

This never happened before!

“Okay guys”, someone clapped into his hands before stepping closer and the soothing voice of Oikawa splitted the figures that made me feel suffocated.

“I think if this goes on, this dream is soon to end. This is just the beginning”, a little grin crawled up his face before Iwaizumi stepped next to him.

“Are we not welcome anymore? Calling us in as you please and then making us vanish when you feel like it?”, he shot me a disappointed glare before Oikawa held him back.

“I think there is a little misunderstanding…”, he mumbled, holding his chuckle.

“Come on, isn’t this much more interesting than your other lame dreams?”, the sudden breath that was next to my ear made me almost drop to my knees as I didn’t feel safe at all anymore.

Atsumu… not Atsumu.

Oikawa clapped his hands and everyone melted beside Atsumu and Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi clicked his tongue and shifted into Daichi.

“Well, I didn’t expect after so much progress that you would get it”, Daichi had a sad lonely smile on his face as he came closer and put an arm on my shoulder.

I didn’t know why but the guilt I felt for whatever reason was crushing me right now, it was as if someone was pushing me further into the ground.

The world that seemed to be only waiting slowly started to have black spots which grew bigger and bigger until there was no white left.

“Actually this is much more comfortable than white”, Atsumu smiled as he looked around and pointed at Oikawa.

“What is it?”, he asked him while heaving an eyebrow and Atsumu shrugged with a grin.

Why is this getting out of control?!

“All of you…”, I muttered while I wasn’t in my right mind and I felt there gazes focussed on me, “just disappear!”

I held my head, I couldn’t and didn’t want to hear anything anymore.

The first one to go was Oikawa.

Breathe, just breathe don’t listen.

Remember what Kenma, Kuroo, Akaashi and Ushijima told you.

Even Oikawa isn’t supposed to do that here.

Which means this is all wrong in the first place…

“You are almost there”, I heard Daichi whispering before he melted in front of my eyes turning into a puddle like the others.

“Ah, ah this is so boring”, Atsumu turned away and the same happened to him.

All that was left were puddles and the immense feeling of loneliness that slowly ate me up inside.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, I was having so many dreams lately. I was getting better and better. Why did this happen? Why do they hate me?!”, tears started to drip down on the ground in front of me mixing with the puddle that used to be Daichi moments ago.

“All I wanted was an answer to my questions and meeting them”, my voice choked out before the puddles moved away and I felt someone ruffling through my hair.

I moved my hands away from my eyes to see a man with messy hair and his glasses were not rightly placed but a bit tilted as he smiled at me.

He had a green tracksuit on and as he ruffled through my hair softly, he gave me a handkerchief that I recognized as my own and started to wipe away my tears.

“You know, dreams are much more complicated to have only one answer to your question. As you may ask yourself why this is happening or why they would hate you, you should check the state of your mind”, he looked to the side where Kageyama and Hinata stood next to each other with Yachi in-between as they waved at me.

Huh… but-

“In your first dreams those are the people you wanted to see so dearly. As you became used to dreaming the thin line between dream and reality started to become blurry”, he adjusted his glasses and Atsumu appeared behind him as he tilted his body to the side and gave me a frown.

“All he did was to tell you, to make use of that thin line between reality and dream. Don’t forget your own reality so easily”, Akaashi appeared next to him fumbling with his hand while Bokuto slapped his back with a loud noise.

“And not everyone shares the same mind, subconscious and their own reality. In your dreams it might happen that things are eerily accurate but at the same time”, everyone beside Takeda melted again and merged into Tsukishima, “they can be far away from what you expect them to be in reality.”

Tsukishima nodded, Sugawara and Asahi gave him a little smile before nodding to me as well.

My own reality?

Is that why Akaashi told me it has nothing to do with being wise?

Or smart?

Is that why he mentioned Bokuto?

“I am sure deep down inside”, he pointed at his head, “you knew when this dream started that something was off. I think after experiencing so many vivid dreams and being parted by the people you cherish and like”, Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Kenma and Kuroo scratched their heads as if they felt guilty.

“It must have been hard to want to have many special memories and take a break from reality only to for your dreams to be just as much as a burden when you wake up again”, he smiled softly and patted my shoulder.

“But I am sure it won’t take long anymore for you to be in full control. Because the one who climbs the ladder” and suddenly a white door opened revealing a golden ladder, “needs to start at the bottom.”

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

Text

I Hate You, But I Hate Me Too

Genre: Non-idol!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

A/N: This is a bit off path from my regular kind of thing. I wanted to try something different. I was really inspired by the song Hate Me Too by Emily Burns. I feel like this fic is more “adult” (and no I don’t mean smut, that rule is still in place lol) than my others. I hope you like it!

I need you.

Laughter echoed around you as your friends went about their conversations, blissfully unaware of the turmoil boiling inside you. Should you stay? Should you go? Like there was even really a choice.

The last time this happened, you told yourself that you would be strong, that you would pretend that you never saw the stupid text and that you were having too much of a good time with people who cared about you to want to leave. But the pull was always nearly impossible to resist.

You hardly remembered what life was like before you met him. Did you actually make it through Friday nights having fun with your friends without constantly jumping each time your phone buzzed in your pocket? Were you able to go home without disappointment because you didn’t hear from him?

You yearned for those days that you couldn’t remember, like standing in front of an Ansel Adams photograph and longing to be walking along the lakeshore. You had no understanding of what that experience was actually like, but you ached for it anyway.

Often, you searched for a way to sever the cord that kept you tied to him. You searched for a cure, but there didn’t seem to be one. Not for when you were addicted to another human being.

“Hey!”

A napkin made contact with your face, finally pulling you away from the glowing screen of your phone. It took will power – more than you thought you had – but you managed to put your phone down, blacking out the screen so no one would accidentally see the text. You looked at your friend innocently. “Yeah?”

Your friends stared at you with genuine concern. It had been like a switch with you, going from actively being in the conversation to completely silent. This time with your friends, the drinks and dinner, was almost enough to make you completely forget about him. You were having fun again. How quickly the tides turned.

“You kind of spaced out there for a second,” one of your friends explained. She narrowed her eyes at you, tilting her head as if she were examining a confusing, abstract sculpture and a new perspective would give her some enlightenment. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Um, y-” Your phone buzzed, the lit up screen stealing your attention.

Please?

The shattering of your willpower echoed in your ears.

“No, actually, I think the seafood and wine combination was a bad idea,” you lied, already digging out your wallet. Taking out some cash, you put it down on the table and stood up. “I really think I should go home. I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin your guys’ night.”

“No, no!” One of your other friends exclaimed. “Go home. We’ll be fine. Feel better, okay?”

Her concern was only making your guilt feel worse. Maybe the guilty churning of your stomach would become an actual illness. Then you’d have a true excuse not to go see him.

But as you waved goodbye to your friends and stood outside the restaurant, waiting for your ride to come, the guilt slowly dissolved away. In its place, that familiar buzz of excitement. He’d asked for you. He’d given you the same line he gave every time, this time adding a please. You were so easy.

The car pulled up only two minutes later and you slid into the back, resting your head against the window. Your eyes didn’t focus on anything – not the street lights or the storefronts or the couples along the sidewalk. Your mind, however, was focused on him.

Zhang Yixing was quite possibly the sweetest man you’d ever met. There was nothing special about your clandestine meeting. No meet-cute through spilled coffee or mixed up luggage. He was simply an acquaintance of one of your friends. His smile, though, was enough to draw you in. You could almost say that you had a crush since the very beginning.

The times he appeared to meet up with the group were infrequent and scattered. It didn’t matter, though, your heart still fluttered each time you saw him. And there were times that gave you hope that your feelings weren’t completely one-sided. The looks he would flash your way, the smiles, the light touches. You thought it was the beginning of something wonderful, the kind of love story you could tell your grandchild.

So how did it end up like this?

No, really. You didn’t know.

The first time something happened between you, the two of you had been drinking with the group. It was a blur how the two of you got back to your apartment, but you certainly remembered what happened after you walked through the door. Your high from the encounter, however, did not last long.

You woke up to find Yixing tying up his shoes at the end of your bed. Before you could say anything, he threw you a wink, a smile and left. The sun wasn’t even beginning to peek out yet and he was already gone. Things only spiraled down from there.

No matter how many times you racked your head against a wall, you couldn’t figure out how that one night turned into this constant game. He never sent you good morning texts or asked you how your day was. Weeks could go by with nothing but silence from his end. Then, with no warning or explanation, he would call or text, usually something along the lines of him needing you or that he was sad or lonely, asking you to come cure his ailment. You were so easy he didn’t need to put any effort into reeling you back in. All he had to do was poke at that tiny flame of hope that this might possibly one day become something a little more.

You had the driver stop at the end of the street. A weird habit you’d developed sometime near the beginning of all of this. For some reason, you liked the nuance of walking down the street to the faded blue door. You could take those extra steps to prepare yourself, to calm yourself down. It was better to face him as neutral as possible. You didn’t want him to see the small amount of excitement he brought you, how happy you were when he called for you.

God, you must be so pathetic to him. Like a puppy to its owner, you came running with your tail wagging.

Raising up your fist, you knocked softly against the blue door and waited. The paint was bleached out from the sun. It could use a new coat of paint. New spots where the top coat was chipping had appeared since your last visit.

About a minute the door swung open. Not a single syllable of “hello” was able to get out before you were being pulled into the darkness. Your shoulder blades stung from being shoved into the door, but that was only a minor thought in the back of your head as Yixing covered your lips with his. So soft, so sweet. As quickly and aggressive as he’d pulled you in, his touches were soft, like how you’d hold the person you loved.

If only he actually loved you.

It was three o’clock in the morning and yet you weren’t the least bit tired. Yixing was in the kitchen getting himself a glass of water as you shoved your foot into your boot. The two of you had had a short conversation about your lives lately (mostly prompted by you asking how he was), but it was seemingly over now. By the time you were standing up and slipping into your jacket, Yixing was waiting for you. He saw you to his door, that same intoxicating smile on his face. You never spent the night. That was one of the unspoken rules between the two of you. They were never written down or even verbally agreed upon; they simply were met.

You didn’t spend the night. He contacted you first. You didn’t tell your friends about him. You always came over to his place.

Most of them were for his convenience, but it wasn’t like you argued or pushed for anything that benefited you. The best thing would be to leave this. What a charming notion.

“Let me know that you got home safe,” he said softly. You never did, but he still said it every time. Acting like he cared was another one of his tricks that you fell for so easily.

Staring at him in the dim light from the street lamps outside - hindered mostly by the heavy curtains in front of the window – you wondered what would happen if you really did text him saying you’d made it back to your place without incident. Would he care? Would he send you a text back or tell you good night? Or would he ignore your message? Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Sure,” you lied. And like he always did, he placed a kiss upon your cheek before opening up the door to the waiting car outside. The place where his lips met your skin still stung, still vibrated from the contact.

“Good night,” he waved before shutting the door behind you.

You hardly looked at the driver as he took you home. You didn’t want to meet his eyes and feel the judgement rolling out of them. What else could be going on when a girl leaves a guy’s place so early in the morning, hair disheveled, guy shirtless, and a glassy look in her gaze?

Up the short porch steps you ran once you were back on solid ground. Your fingers shook as you struggled to find the right key to let you unlock the door. Inside the safety of your own walls where you could be alone, where you could breathe again.

The darkness engulfed you again once your feet hit the carpet of your living room. This time, there was no one waiting for you. There was no one here to embrace you. Only the empty feeling of loneliness was left to crush you.

Taking out your phone, you typed out “Made it safely”. Your eyes flickered to Yixing’s previous texts. You deleted your message and threw your phone across the room. It landed safely on the couch, the only good thing to happen to you tonight.

Under the heel of all your poor decisions, you crumbled to the floor. You’d managed to hold yourself together the whole way home, but now you let it all out, the sounds of your sobs your only company.

It’d been two weeks since you heard from Yixing. Surprisingly, you were doing fine. You hadn’t cried since that night. Once your tears dried up, you picked yourself up, stripped out of your clothes and fell asleep alone in your bed of cold sheets.

Now you were okay. You weren’t sure what happened that night, but something in you snapped. You didn’t constantly check your phone or think about him or fight with yourself on whether or not to contact him. Instead, you focused on work. You spent more time with your friends. You didn’t fake an illness or lock yourself up night after night in your apartment, coming up with excuses not to join anyone for dinner or a movie. You were living, like you were meant to be.

At the moment, you were wandering through a clothing store, stopping and looking at any piece that caught your eye. Your friend was complaining about her boss while she, too, shifted through the round rack of shirts.

“It’s just so annoying,” your friend grumbled as she picked up a shirt, held it against herself and then put it back, shaking her head. “Like, if you’re in charge, you shouldn’t say one thing is the standard policy and then go change your mind on every account. How are we supposed to accomplish anything that way?”

“Have you said anything about it?” you asked.

“No. Right now, venting about it is easier. But soon I’m go- hey, Yixing!”

You froze, a sheet of ice covering you almost instantaneously, seeping down into your veins. How could he be here? Why was he here?

“Hi!” His voice was cheerful, the exact opposite of how you were feeling.

Slowly, you turned around to face him. There was no smile on your face, especially after you caught his. It was the same polite, distant yet dimpled smile. The kind that was given to acquaintances, not someone you knew intimately. And he did know you, no matter how hard he tried to pretend otherwise. He knew every inch of your skin. He knew who you were when everything else was stripped away. The things you’d confessed to him, revealed to him before your nights together was over. That smile that kept up the wall was a betrayal you couldn’t even begin to verbalize.

“Hi, (y/n),” he greeted.

You waved halfheartedly. “Hey.”

Your friend sent you a curious look given your sudden change in demeanor, but she shrugged her curiosity away. “What are you up to, Yixing?”

“Just out buying a gift,” he said mysteriously.

“Ooo, for a girl,” your friend teased. An innocent enough joke. To you, though, it was just another twist in the knife.

“No, no,” Yixing laughed. “For my mom.”

You hated his laugh.

No, you didn’t. You loved it. The childlike way the giggles would vibrate in his throat, the way his nose scrunched and his smile grew to reveal the second, hidden dimple on his other cheek. It lit him up like the famous New York City New Year’s Eve ball that dropped at midnight. Truly, he might even shine brighter.

What you really hated was yourself. You hated how much you loved the details of him. The way he titled his head when he was listening intently. The strange way his face hardened and sharpened when he frowned or put tension in his forehead. As soon as he smiled again, everything softened, rounding out his features into that boy-next-door look that fit him so well.

You loved the expressions on his face when he was excited or surprised. His eyes would grow big and he’d look around in disbelief. When he cooked, he seemed so relaxed and concentrated at the same time. While his food wasn’t anything worth wild, you counted yourself lucky that you were able to experience a dinner or two made by him.

This boy could be playful, teasing in ways that weren’t cruel. Sometimes when you told a joke, it took him a minute or two before he would get it. The gradual transition in his features as the answer dawned on him was one you could watch for an eternity.

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” your friend smiled.

“It’s her birthday soon,” Yixing said. He kept his attention on your friend as if you weren’t even there.

“I’m going to run to the restroom real quick.” You didn’t even wait to see if your friend caught your lame excuse to get out of there. You needed to leave. Thinking about him in that way… well, you didn’t want to have a breakdown in the middle of the t-shirt section. You didn’t give Yixing a second glance as you left the store.

It took you a few minutes to find the bathrooms. In this mall they were located down a somewhat eerie hallway, but for once you weren’t concerned about that factor. You just needed a place to hide out. As rude as it was, you took the biggest stall, locking the flimsy door and sliding down to the floor.

You couldn’t keep going on like this. This wasn’t fair to you. While he could freely go about his day without the slightest bit of harm, you were constantly hurting. Even though you could numb the pain, it always came back, burning you worse than before.

There was no other choice. You had to let him go. This hatred that resided in your heart, you were afraid it just might kill you.

Your friend was a little perturbed at your sudden disappearing act, but after a few apologies on your end and an excuse that everyone with a uterus could understand, she forgave you. The two of you caught dinner at one of the nearby restaurants that served generic “feel good” food, but it didn’t do much in the ways of comforting you.

In the back of your mind you were trying to decide how to break away from Yixing. Should you simply block his number? Go to his place and tell him face to face?

Turned out, you didn’t have to make that decision as he made it for you.

You were almost ready for bed. At this point, you were simply procrastinating the actually going to sleep part. Tucked into the corner of your couch with your legs folded under you, you scrolled through different social medias. Nothing of interest was happening so you locked the screen, finally ready to head to bed.

Then it happened.

The phone rang in your hand. You stared at the device as it vibrated that familiar pattern, the one that you’d set specifically for him. The sensation ran through your fingers, up your arm, and into your heart. In turn, the muscle swelled, being torn in two. Answer. Don’t answer. Answer. Don’t answer.

The call flipped over to voicemail. You let out the breath you’d been holding, leaning your head back on the couch. You did it. You actually made yourself not answer his call. But the internal celebration didn’t last long before he was calling again. He had never done that in the past – called you back to back – so your self-control was suddenly depleted.

Your thumb swiped on the green icon.

“Hello?”

A sigh of relief. “Hey.”

You didn’t reply.

“(y/n)?”

This time you did reply. “Yeah?”

“I’ve missed you.”

No. Don’t do that. Please, don’t say that.

“I realized that… when I saw you today. Can I see you again?”

Your throat swelled as you tried to keep your composure. Taking the phone away from your ear, you held it against your forehead. You concentrated on your breathing, keeping it even, keeping it silent. You couldn’t let him know that he was breaking you.

“I can’t.” You were surprised that you were able to find those words in your vocabulary when you put the phone back against your ear. You thought they didn’t exist when it came to him. It turned out, you really were getting stronger.

“Oh.” At least there was a small amount of disappointment in his voice. “Are you… with someone?”

“No,” you answered honestly. “I just can’t keep doing this.”

A few moments of silence on his end went by before he asked, “What do you mean?”

Taking a deep breath, you unfurled the words that had lingered too long inside. “I can’t keep waiting around for you to call. I can’t keep hoping that maybe someday you’ll see me more than just something to help you feel less lonely. Because I’m lonelier than ever. I can’t keep letting you break my heart. Soon I won’t have anything less. So, no, Yixing, I can’t come over. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever again. I’m sorry.”

“(y/n), wait-”

You hung up quickly, before he could honey up the words it would take to pull you back in. With shaking hands, you went through the motions it would take to block his number. He was out of your life for good now.

So, why didn’t you feel relieved?

It’d been nearly a month since you said goodbye to Yixing. There were still nights where silent tears would roll down your cheeks. There were still times you would check your phone for missed calls or unread text messages, forgetting that you’d block any communication he could have with you. You were still weak, but as time went on, you found that picking up the pieces of your broken heart was becoming easier. The shards didn’t leave behind as many cuts on your fingers. Soon, you might be whole again, healed.

Your friends had noticed a change in you, too. You were happier, they said. When they asked what changed, you simply shrugged and shook your head. “It just happened, I guess.”

Tonight, you could really say that you were happy.

You were looking forward to a night out, hopping from bar to bar with your friends in tow. As you got ready, you found yourself smiling. There were no worries as to who you might run into or what excuse you might need to make a quick getaway. The rideshare app on your phone was only to be used to get you from different establishments, not anyone’s residence but your own. The blue door no longer haunted your dreams. You weren’t completely okay. You weren’t completely over it. That would take time. But you were hating yourself a little less. You were stronger than you thought. And that was worth smiling about.

A majority of your friends were already at the bar, given the amount of “Where are you?!” texts you’d received. You were quietly laughing at the group chat as you walked inside. They were all together and yet they still insisted on texting you separately. Following their directions, you made your way to the back of the bar where they said they were seated. But it wasn’t just your friends waiting for you.

Yixing was standing beside your mutual friend who was seated at the table. He seemed fine, engaging in conversation as if he wasn’t affected by your absence at all. Just like normal.

So focused on him, you didn’t see the poor waiter coming towards you with a tray of empty glasses until it was too late. The glass toppled down to the floor, the shattering sounds catching everyone’s attention.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Immediately, you bent down to help the waiter with the mess you’d made. He tried to tell you that it was alright and that you didn’t need to help, but you didn’t listen.

A third pair of familiar hands came into view.

Knowing that it was the wrong thing to do, you looked up anyway. When your eyes met Yixing’s, a half smile grew on his face. Your heart was thumping hard in your chest, so much so that it was nearly painful. Each breath became shallower and your world started to tilt back and forth. Quickly, straightening up, you ran for the door, barely missing other patrons and waiters on the way out.

“(y/n), wait!”

You’d scarcely hit the pavement of the sidewalk when a hand caught yours, dragging you over to a more secluded area. As soon as he stopped, you yanked your hand out Yixing’s. The last thing you needed was take that contact and turn into something more.

“Please, just talk to me,” he begged.

“No,” you shook your head viciously. “We already talked. I told you. I can’t do this anymore.” You tried to walk away, but he jumped in front of you, blocking your path.

“I don’t want to do that anymore either.”

You stood there for a second or two, trying to decipher what he could possibly mean. “I don’t understand.”

He reached out and took your hand in his. “When I said I missed you, I meant it. I promise, I’ll do better this time around.”

“Do better?” you scoffed, pulling your hand back once again. He tried to hold on, but you were able to break his grip. “How do you plan on that? Making it a once a week thing instead of every once in a while? No, thank you. I meant it when I said I can’t do this anymore. I hate you. But what’s worse is how much I hated myself. How much I still hate me even when I thought I was getting over it. Because just when I thought I was getting over you, this happens. And I’m right back in that place. All I want is to tell you yes. But that’s not fair to me.”

Yixing blinked, letting your words sink in as his eyes slowly fell to the ground off to the side. “Please, don’t hate me. I care about you. I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

“It doesn’t matter, because you did it anyway.”

“Please, give me another chance. I want to be with you.” He stepped closer to you, meeting your eyes. He brought his hand up to your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made you lean into his touch. You thought of all those times he looked at you like you were something special, worth something to him.

But that was a dangerous road that led you here in the first place.

You wrapped your fingers around Yixing’s hand and gently pushed it away. “I need to think about it.” You still couldn’t tell him no. So, this was a compromise with yourself.

He seemed to accept that answer, nodding. “When you make up your mind… even if it’s to tell me to go to hell…you know where I’ll be.”

You nodded back. Then, before you completely broke down, you walked away.

For what seemed like hours you wandered around the streets, careful stay in the more populated, well lit areas while you tried to work through your own thoughts.

Did he really mean what he said? Did he really want to be with you?

He seemed sincere. Almost as broken as you were.

Back and forth the scales went, weighing the good against the bad. The heaviest consequence was your heart. The tape holding the pieces together was already beginning to peel away. You weren’t sure how much longer it would hold now that you’d seen him again. This promise being dangled in front of you… it was too good to be true. But you weren’t walking away like you should have. That would be the smart thing to do. The right thing. Each time you closed your eyes, however, you say the desperation in his face. In your ears, his pleas played over and over again.

Your feet made the decision for you.

At the end of his street, you debated. Your feet had brought you here without you realizing it so did that mean this was what your heart wanted? Were you willing to give it away completely? The chances of the same pattern beginning again were high, astronomically so.

You took a step. And then another. Again. And again. You didn’t even try to stop until you were outside his door. That blue door that used to mock you with its depressing color was now welcoming you with open arms. Your fist raised in the air, you knocked on the door, waiting patiently. The quick footsteps on the other side matched the rhythm of your heart, reigniting the hope inside.

“(y/n).”

#exo #zhang yixing #lay #yixing x reader #lay x reader #exo images #exo scenarios #exo one shot #angst #emily burns #Hate Me Too #I Hate You But I Hate Me Too

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b--tchcraft · 3 years

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「 ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉⁿ 𝓶𝓪𝔂𝓪 𝓶𝓪𝓽𝓵𝓲𝓷 ʸᵉᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ʸᵉᵃʳ ?? ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ 𝓸𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪, 𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓲𝓻, ᵒʳ 𝓭𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓪 𝓬𝓵𝓾𝓫 ?? ⁱ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷⁱˡᵈ ʳᵘᵐᵒʳˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ 𝓼𝓲𝔁𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷 ʸᵉᵃʳ ᵒˡᵈ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵉᵐᵉˢᵗᵉʳ, ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ’ʳᵉ ᵃ 𝓳𝓾𝓷𝓲𝓸𝓻 ⁱᵗ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ. ᵃᶜᶜᵒʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ’ʳᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵗʸ 𝓭𝓻𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓷, ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ 𝓼𝓱𝓮 ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ 𝓶𝓮𝓭𝓭𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰. ʷʰᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ, ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ 𝓱𝓮𝓻 ʸᵉᵃʳ ! 」

LIGHTNING ROUND

full name: maya ruby matlin

date of birth: may 9, 2004 @ 11:50 AM (16y/o)

star signs: taurus sun, leo rising, capricorn moon

birth order: youngest

gender: cis female (she/her)

sexuality: bisexual

romanticism: biromantic

personality: ambivert, idealist, infp-t

moral alignment: neutral good

temperament: melancholy-choleric

hogwarts house: slytherin

spirituality: undecided, only vaguely spiritual

positive traits: tender, prodigious, visionary

negative traits: naive, intrusive, self-involved

faceclaim: kiernan shipka

AN OVERVIEW

tw: illness (multiple sclerosis), hospitals, overdose, addiction, eating disorder, mental illness, anxiety, depression

this interpretation of maya matlin is a little bit all over the place since i wanted to have her come in on a mostly fresh note (especially since so much is au around here so obviously a lot of her more formative plotlines didn't happen) but i wanted to keep what i consider to be some of her key character traits. so some liberties have been taken not that anyone ever cares xx

maya was interested in music from a very young age while simultaneously always having trouble with making friends. when she was in second grade and her parents noticed that she’d been invited to way less playdates and birthday parties than her older sister, katie matlin, did by her age, they figured getting her music lessons would be a good way to both enrich and socialize her.

the cello was love at first sight for maya. her parents tried to talk her down to a violin since she was comically small compared to the larger instrument, but she couldn't be swayed. she was also a natural when she got her first lesson as a sort of trial run, and so maya x cello began.

growing up hearing things like gifted and talented, even child prodigy did make her ego grow with her, but it wasn’t without reason—even she could see how much she excelled in orchestra compared to her classmates, to the point where she took up other instruments along the way just to keep feeling challenged. but other than that, she didn’t have much going for her; her overall grades were pretty good, and she was generally nice to the other people at school (even the ones she had no problem telling her family she didn’t like) but no friendships ever stuck. music really was like her one thing.

so, her parents did what they could to nourish it—including enrolling her in a middle school for the performing arts, which she loved. but in a few years when katie started high school at degrassi and was more well-rounded than ever—having friends, clubs, soccer, taekwondo, etc.—it really did highlight how little maya did outside of her little musical world. mr. & mrs. matlin started to worry that, in allowing and encouraging this, they were only enabling maya to alienate herself from other people and opportunities in the world. so, much to her dismay, the next year she, too, was enrolled at degrassi.

with lots of cliques and friend groups carrying over from previous schools, maya felt like a new kid in the worst way. luckily for her, one kendra mason noticed how much she looked like a lost puppy and took her under her wing, already knowing her way around despite being in the same grade since she had an older brother in katie’s grade and already knew most of their peers. to say that maya latched onto bonding with kendra would be a massive understatement, and the two have been best friends ever since.

although maya’s made no secret of her disdain for how undemanding degrassi’s music curriculum is, with kendra’s friendship (and the way she has no problem telling maya when she’s being a little brat) she finally started branching out more, joining a few clubs, making some more friends, getting crushes (lots of crushes) and just enjoying being a teenager for the first time, like, ever. so, imagine her heartbreak when she found out kendra was gonna be going away to boarding school the following year.

despite how much more involved she was now, maya started sophomore year feeling lost all over again. however, she at least knew that kendra’s ex, toby isaacs, would be missing kendra just as much as she did, especially since it wasn’t like they had broken up on bad terms. so the two gravitated towards each other—well, no, it was more like: maya gravitated towards him, which got them to hang out more and actually become closer friends, and that was nice for both of them...but maya also totally developed a big crush on toby in the process that was not only unrequited but unspoken about so that no one would ever know (except maybe katie, who could always read maya like a book). it really wasn’t even that she had any intention of dating him, he had just kind of become her closest friend at degrassi without kendra there and they both bonded over missing her and it was nice, and i mean, it’s toby, he’s nice, and funny, and adorable, and oh my god did maya not want to be feeling any kind of way about her best friend’s ex and had a whole lot of feelings about the whole thing and wrote a whole lot of songs about it that she never wants to see the light of day. but she never did get rid of the journal she wrote them in.

eventually she got over it, at first because the weirdness of it all turned her off from the whole idea of liking him, but then especially when she found out kendra was coming back. whether that had more to do with guilt about ever having crushed on toby in the first place or just the sheer excitement of getting her bestie again remains unclear. she just tries not to think about it too much.

A RUNDOWN

maya’s trademark savior complex is still very present, having started with her mom; with her dad usually working and katie always busy, maya grew up spending a lot of time alone with her mother, who suffers from multiple sclerosis. while, fortunately, margaret matlin maintained a lot of her independence, some days were worse than others as with any chronic illness, and maya was always checking in on her and seeing if there was anything she could do to help. her compulsion to “save” her loved ones later grew when katie wound up hospitalized from an overdose, and maya learned (from general talk among the parents and medical staff) that not only did her sister have a pill addiction but had struggled with disordered eating as well.

although none of it had anything to do with her, maya couldn’t help but feel like things might not have gotten so bad had she monitored katie more closely like she did their mother, but she didn’t want to make it about herself, so she just kept quiet about these thought patterns, only internalizing it more. at the fault of no one in particular, this developed into a sort of anxiety, which makes her worry a little too much about her friends and family—often to the point of nosiness or straight-up invasion of privacy in the pursuit of a maya matlin wellness check. the fact that she goes to degrassi, of course, doesn’t make this any better, by the way, with all of the shit that goes down there all the time.

this habit of catastrophizing has also led to a currently undiagnosed mild depression, which often even seems totally latent in her behavior but does circle back to worsening her anxiety. she tends to fixate on stressors (usually personal, but sometimes as big as world events) and will have racing/spiraling thoughts. her lower points tend to be worsened based on circumstance, so she’s more likely to “look” or “seem” depressed in times of higher personal distress, contrasting the heightened nerves and paranoia that will often come beforehand (and serves as a good warning sign). basically, the girl needs therapy, we’ll get there eventually.

ANYTHING ELSE?

i definitely played up the amount she was affected by her mom and katie (even tho i will argue that those were starting points in her mental health journey) but since we’re in a super au and i was trying to serve fresh maya realness alongside later!maya personality/mentality traits, i kinda had to chopshop her backstory a little. that’s also why this turned out so long, i knew i had some differences that needed some explaining.

(also pls note if we do get a katie who doesn’t want to keep the aforementioned plots OR wants to change it up some, i’m obviously open to that!)

i also figure that maya’s relationship with katie would be figured out more when/if we get a katie, but by default, i like to imagine they’re very close with a pretty clear “wiser big sister looking out for her baby sister who thinks she knows everything” dynamic, like best friends but katie puts on the big sister hat when she needs to.

i’m also trying to be very mindful of her mental health because i don’t want her to be quite the extent she ever reaches in next class, but i did also appreciate and apparently relate to a lot of the nuances in how her mental illness really surfaced and inevitably spiraled. so she’s going to be a little mix of happy lil early day maya and the nervous wreck she became later one, with just a splash of next class’s touches like “disaster porn” and having days where stays home from school because she just feels too down. basically, it fluctuates.

maya kind of always knew that she was bi, but like, quietly, since it’s never really been a big deal to her but she also didn’t want to seem like she was looking for attention (not for that, anyway). she definitely acts more outwardly boy-crazy though.

she is also a serial crusher and goes through them faster than even she can keep up with. other than toby, some highlights of the crushes she’s had include: adam torres, alena montanez, alex nunez, amy peters-hoffman, ashley kerwin (like, right when she started her cool goth look), danny van zandt, dave turner, imogen moreno, reggie dever, sean cameron, spinner mason, yael baron, and obviously zig novak. she’s totally got a thing for cam saunders at the moment, and she thinks that craig is, like, the coolest, but not even in a dating kinda way just in a wow-you’re-so-cool-and-talented-i-wanna-open-up-for-you-on-tour-one-day-pls-notice-me-senpai kinda way. and she’s almost definitely felt some type of way about kendra that’s more than friends, more than once, at some point, but even she hasn’t realized that.

despite the fact that she’s got a song written for almost half the school, maya has never dated anyone or even had her first kiss! obviously nothing wrong with that, but a fun trivia bit.

the basement of the matlin house is practically dedicated to being maya’s studio. it’s like half practice room, half hangout, filled with just about every instrument maya took an interest in over the years (mostly string instruments, some miscellaneous, she’s currently trying to build up a drumset that she’s convinced she’s gonna teach herself, and her next fantasy/goal is to get a theremin) as well as an iMac with a composition and production softwares, a sound system, and then just like a couch and a tv and stuff. it’s a pretty impressive amount of musical equipment that looks like a lot (and it is) but again, it’s really like her one thing and her parents want her to be happy. most of it comes from various holidays and occasions since she only ever really asks for additions to her collection as gifts, so between that and random bits and pieces she saved up to buy herself (and a few her parents just felt like treating her to) it’s built up over the years.

yeah i literally always play maya with this basement, it’s basically become a staple of my maya matlins, i’ve designed it a couple of times but i’ll probably redo it once more for this verse because it’s her favorite place to hang out.

aaand i’m gonna make myself end there because i’ll just keep going and this is already far too long but yeah welcome to the world my latest edition in maya matlins~

#ch: maya #bio: maya #*: maya #hqdintro #tw: illness #tw: hospital #tw: overdose #tw: drugs #tw: addiction #tw: eating disorder #tw: mental illness #tw: anxiety #tw: depression

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cesabutterflywrites · 4 years

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Prince in the Storm: Chapter Eleven

A/N: This is....very angsty. Also longer than normal...for reasons...

Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Virgil was sensitive. Most people saw him as some “spooky, broody dude”, when in reality he was just a private person. Teachers tried to open his mind up with a figurative crowbar. Everyone tried to get him to open up. Well, everyone except his best friend Talyn. They were the only one who understood his personality and inner workings just enough to be his friend. However, they haven’t seen his Marking. No one other than his parents have.

Contrary to popular belief, Roman was sensitive. Most people saw him as a fanciful, dreamy, somewhat egotistical thespian who wanted nothing but to be the best of the best. Everyone cheered him on in his performances. Everyone praised his original works. Anything he made others enjoyed. People would whisper about his Marking, wondering where it was and when he would reveal it. He had a whole circle of friends, yet no one except his best friend Joan understood him. Joan was the only one who saw Roman’s insecurities.

As students of Kingston High School, with zany principals and try-hard superintendents, it is up to Virgil and Roman to stay alive enough to fulfill their destiny. Ao3

Word Count: 4974

Chapter Warnings: crying, arguing, technically pinning someone down? Saying just in case, insecure thoughts, let me know what else!

Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen

Bonuses: Immune to Change

Chapter Eleven

Virgil woke up to something nuzzling into his side. It startled him awake, but something warm was trapping him from jumping at the sudden movement. He opened one of his eyes to see the thing nuzzling into his side was actually the head of one Roman King. In his sleepy haze he wondered how they both ended up in his bed. However when he rubbed his eyes he woke up enough to remember the day before.

The bus ride, the storm, the panic attack and flashback, the dinner, the games, the tension, the adorable pink blush underneath hazel eyes. The glances and the way he nearly thought they’d kiss when Roman reached for the game controller. The texts he sent to Talyn as partial torture, partial giddiness. Though he’d never admit out loud to feeling ‘giddy’.

He felt his own blush build as he turned his head to look at the brown haired boy clinging onto him for dear life. There was a thin layer of sunlight shining through the curtains shining on Roman’s face. He was snoring softly, which was a mix of a mewling kitten and snoozing puppy. Virgil’s heart beat betrayed him-the sight was adorable. He sleepily thought about brushing Roman’s hair out of his face to better see his face.

Virgil swallowed, feeling thirsty suddenly. It was warm in the bed with two bodies under the covers. Mix that with the heat Virgil was radiating from embarrassment, it was very dehydrating. He tried building a strategy for getting out of bed without disturbing Roman, but before he could the boy rolled off, still facing him, and opened his eyes slowly. He pouted in the same way he had the night before. The way that defined how full his lips actually were.

Virgil swallowed, feeling a different type of thirst, which he quickly tried to put out of his mind.

“Hey,” Roman’s gruff sleepy voice spoke out. He rubbed his eye as he looked up at Virgil. “What are you doing here?”

Virgil blushed then looked away. All of the true answers would have embarrassed him too much. He didn’t want to admit to actually caring about Roman’s nightmares, or his need to protect him in his sleep, or how his heart fluttered when his name was called in Roman’s sleep-so he tried to play it off as a joke.

“Well, you seemed so upset when I said I would take the couch, so I thought I’d ease your mind and spare you some guilt. Worry lines don’t suit your adorable face,” Virgil closed his eyes in embarrassment. He had achieved exactly what he hadn’t wanted to do. He really needed to stop flirting, but it was just so damn tempting sometimes. He blamed his filter being off on that he was just waking up.

Roman snorted, so Virgil opened his eyes. Roman was blushing that intoxicating pink, but he also rolled his eyes. “Whatever, no need to flatter me. Next time you don’t have to play the part of a modest host and you can have the bed, no hard feelings.”

Virgil sat up, suddenly offended that Roman thought that of him. “I’m wounded that you would accuse me of something like that, your Majesty.”

Roman smirked and sat up too. “Whatever. Well, thank you for at least solving the hugging something in my sleep issue," he teased before shooting a wink towards Virgil.

Virgil couldn’t avoid the red in his face that appeared. Roman stretched his arms up behind his head. Virgil tried, and failed, not to check him out. However in the little bit of daylight coming through his curtains he noticed the barest hint of black on the boy’s stomach. He immediately looked away. He didn’t want to violate Roman’s privacy like that, and he very much did not become suddenly aware that his own Marking was also on his stomach.

He suddenly felt suffocated, so he stood up. “I’m-” he squeaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m gonna go get ready then see what Dad is making for breakfast.”

He rushed out of the room like he was about to be trapped inside. In a way, he might have been if he had watched any further.

He made his way to the bathroom to get ready like usual. He looked in the mirror and cringed at his appearance. His eyes were brighter than usual. His cheeks were red in an eternal blush. His purple hair was tossed every which way, and suddenly he cared about the way he looked in his own home with having a certain guest over. His nostrils were flared, probably from how quick he was breathing.

He gripped the sides of the sink. The ceramic was cold against his hands. He looked his reflection in the eyes, those damn dark brown eyes that were both excited and terrified. He clenched his knuckles as he spoke in a heated, deep voice.

“Get a grip, Sanders. Yesterday was weird, today doesn’t have to be. Get a fucking grip, you’re just tired still and seeing things. Get a grip, it doesn’t matter,” he watched as his eyes will with tears, the excitement replaced with sorrow. “Get a grip,” he pleaded with himself, “Because it can never happen, no matter what the stupid Universe says about anybody.”

He leaned his forehead against the mirror. It was too early to be reminded of the person he wanted to speak to the most. He closed his eyes and let himself sob once. “Wish you were here to help me, Papa.”

He felt his chest constrict with pain. He never wanted to know, and really just seeing the barest hint of black in a dark room shouldn’t have triggered this panic within him, but it did, and he knew exactly why.

It was because, when he was with Roman, for a moment, he didn’t seem to mind the idea of meeting his soulmate as long as they had hazel eyes.

When he flirted to make Roman blush, a secret part of him hoped he could do it forever. When they bumped into each other, a small piece of him wanted to do it again even if it meant a screaming match. He hated Roman. Hated him from the first heartbeat that dedicated itself to the Prince’s name. From the first time they’d made contact, he felt a tug in his gut pulling him toward Roman that he so desperately wanted to ignore.

Ignore, because when Roman suggested driving home in last night’s storm, the image of him dead in a car burned into Virgil’s mind. Ignore the rapidly increasing feelings, because he didn’t want to chance that they weren’t soulmates. If he got Roman tangled up with him then found out they weren’t meant to be, it would be cruel to them both. It would be cruel to Roman, to ask for a relationship without baring their Markings, all because he couldn’t stand the pain he’d feel when he lost him.

It was a catch 22, and Virgil once again wished Papa had never died so he could enjoy having a crush rather than dread it.

After a minute of letting himself be weak, he finally pulled himself together enough to wash his face. The last thing he needed was for Roman to notice his intense emotional state again. Two days in a row of emotional storms and bonding was too much.

So Virgil washed his face with cold water. He brushed his teeth for the entire two rounds of his ABC’s. He made sure to put on his deodorant. He even brushed his hair to make it less tussled. He took as long as he needed to on his tasks to give his face time to cooperate.

He looked over his reflection, satisfied with himself. He looked decent enough. Close to normal.

His fingers buzzed. A part of him needed to see it. He lifted the hem of his shirt unconsciously. The Marking glared at him in the mirror. He clenched his abs in nerves while he stared.

The Marking was an emblem of sorts. It was right above his belly button. It took up a considerable portion of his stomach; going from the tip of his belly button to right underneath his ribs. It was purple, black, and white colored. The lining was black, with the filling a royal sort of purple. The image on the center was a storm cloud shooting a single white lightning bolt.

He felt nauseated just looking at it, so he quickly dropped his shirt.

He shook his head one more time then headed out the door, knocking into Roman one more time.

Roman steadied him while laughing. “Sorry, guess we’re both extra clumsy when tired, I see.” His hazel eyes were teasing enough. The deep voice that drummed into Virgil’s brain? Downright intoxicating and cruel.

“You’re a hazard to society, King, walking around with that large ego.” Virgil quipped. He didn’t know how else to respond that was appropriate.

If Roman noticed the edge in Virgil’s voice, he didn’t show it. He just shrugged. “I didn’t see your dad downstairs. He left a note on the dining table saying he had to leave early for some important business. So we’re on our own for breakfast.”

Virgil hummed in response. That made him feel a tad bit uneasy. It was the weekend, why did his dad need to go into work?

He eyed Roman up and down, noticing that his clothes were rumpled from sleeping in them.

“Hey, if you need to borrow some of my clothes, feel free to,” he offered without thinking. “You might wanna wear something fresh for a bit, I think.” He inwardly cringed, though the pink cheeks on Roman’s were worth it like always.

Virgil headed downstairs to let Roman get ready in privacy. He read the note from his dad.

Hey kiddos

I had to go do some last minute business with Logan, so you’ll be stuck with cereal for breakfast.

Roman, you’re allowed to eat whatever you want, and you can stay all day if need be.

Virgil, be nice to your guest and try to remember you have your vocabulary for technical theater due on Monday.

Love ya, Dad

On the bottom of the yellow paper was a poorly drawn smiley face. Virgil laughed, he loved his dad a lot. His dad could be a bit too peppy, but at the end of the day he went out of his way to show Virgil his love. Virgil was a small bit disappointed that it was just him and Roman in the house, though, and frankly a little anxious to not have someone be a buffer between them just in case he slipped in his guard.

He set the note down when he heard Roman coming down the stairs, all the while complaining as loud as he could.

The dramatic boy sighed in mock agony. “Oh Dark One, you have a very limited clothing colored collection. I hope you don’t mind I grabbed the only non-black items I saw.”

Virgil looked up as Roman made it to the bottom of the stairs, and he had to choke back a squeak. He had thought Roman in his hoodie was adorable, but this was more than that.

Roman was well built, yes, but he was lean. There was also the fact that Virgil was taller than him if he didn’t slouch. So Roman was sort of buried in the purple shirt and pajama pants. Not to the point where he was swimming, but enough to make him look more plain that his ‘perfect boy’ attire.

It was simple, stunning, and endearing. It made Virgil consider how important it was for one’s first kiss to be their soulmate. He gulped at the sight, and part of him knew he was gawking. Roman in his clothes did something to him-this was one of those moments he didn’t mind the idea of being involved.

Roman must have noticed his stare. He shifted, blushing under the gaze. “Is...is this okay? You said to help myself to some-some clothes. I could go change…” His voice trailed off. He looked almost shy. Virgil shook himself out of his daze.

“Don’t worry about it, Roman,” his voice came out husky. “Purple suits you.”

Roman blushed, and Virgil’s hands tingled in response. He wanted to cross the space to hold the blushing ball of beauty in his arms. He felt his heart rate go up. He needed to distract himself from this awkward situation. He needed a distraction to pull him away from the urges welling up inside of him.

“Um…” he trailed off eloquently.

“Your dad said there was cereal?” Roman brought up. He kept fiddling with the hem of the shirt. The confidence in him had deflated, and was replaced by a concerning amount of sweet shyness. A part of Virgil wondered just how easily that old confidence was an act.

Virgil nodded to shake himself out of the weird daze he was in. He had to remind himself that they had only just agreed to be friends the day before. That just over a month and a half ago they hated each other. He needed to remind himself of why he had just been crying in the bathroom not a few minutes beforehand. He needed to get a grip before he did something they both regretted.

He went into the kitchen to grab the bowls, cereal, and milk. He tried very hard to ignore that Roman had followed him to stand in the doorway. Virgil made sure to pay extra attention to the task at hand.

“What do you want? We have coco pebbles, fruit loops, and honey nut cheerios,” he offered in a rushed, breezy voice. Virgil sounded very casual. He felt a bit proud that he was able to play it cool when he couldn’t see the very adorable guest in front of him.

“I’ll have some fruit loops. I’m feeling bold today,” Roman chuckled. “I don’t normally consume sugary foods. I have to maintain this beauty somehow.”

Virgil snorted. “A life without junk food is not a life worth living.” He poured the cereals in the bowls. He decided to make it easier and have fruit loops, too. “I’m here for a good time, not a long time.”

“Considering how you dress like the world is ending, I would never have guessed you’d be here for a ‘good time’,” Roman shot back sarcastically. Virgil could hear the audible quotes in his statement.

Vigil snorted as he poured the milk. “Depends on your definition of good time. For you, a good time is singing show tunes and reciting poetry. For me, it’s just vibing along and being solo.”

He turned around to see that Roman was frowning. He frowned as well, not liking that he had said something wrong to upset Roman. He handed the bowl over and smirked, leaning a little too close. He whispered, “Besides, you’re not really in a position to be talking shit about my clothes, considering you’re wearing them.”

Roman sputtered inarticulate noises. Virgil smiled in satisfaction as he made his way to the dining room. It was music to his ears whenever he could make Roman squeak out offended over-the-top vowels.

They both sat in quiet for a few minutes while they ate. Virgil tried to avoid staring at Roman, and Roman seemed to be doing the same. It was nice to not have Roman talking for once, and have him far away enough for Virgil not to be tempted to kiss him.

He used the quiet to stuff down the intrusive, charming, gross fantasies of being with Roman...that way. He hated the boy a bit. If he had just asked for the controller like a normal human last night, then Virgil would never have considered kissing him in the first place. Never mind the fact that Virgil couldn’t help but flirt with him, or that his subconscious always conjured him in his nightmares, or even that his best friend planted the idea of them being possible freaking soulmates at all.

No, it was Roman’s fault, and he would stand by that.

“So, who’s Logan?” Roman asked in between bites out of nowhere.

Virgil shot him a confused look. “What?”

Roman swallowed. “Your dad said he was meeting a Logan. I was curious who it was.”

“Oh,” Virgil shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s Mr. Charles. I’ve sort of become his passion project. He meets with Dad, and sometimes Uncle Thomas, to talk about how I’m doing in school.”

“Wow,” Roman breathed out in awe. “Wish I had a dad like that, my parents stopped caring about my education after my fifth show when I said I wanted to go to Broadway. Patton is a rock star.”

Virgil couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on his face when he thought about his dad. “Yeah, my dad is pretty tight. I’ll admit, having him be so happy being involved in my life makes me feel a bit better. I’m a bit glad I gave Logan a chance. Plus, it gives my dad someone to talk to who doesn't do it out of pity.”

Roman nodded solemnly. “Well, I’m glad there’s someone your dad can lean on. Patton’s a very nice guy, I like him.”

They finished their breakfast, and Virgil gathered the dishes. He tried not to notice that Roman looked disappointed when he moved away quickly after leaning over him to grab the bowl. He muttered to himself as he rinsed the dishes.

“Get a grip, Sanders, it’s for the best.” Yet as he scrubbed he felt his willpower dwindling by the second. If his dad didn't get home soon, he had no idea what he would do.

---

Roman had moved to the couch after breakfast. He tried to steady his breathing while he waited for Virgil to rinse out their dishes. He looked down at the clothes he was wearing. He tried so hard to ignore the way Virgil had looked at him when he had come down the stairs wearing them. He also tried to ignore how comfortable he was wearing the Emo’s clothes. He had been joking in his complaints about the boy’s wardrobe.

He noticed that Virgil was acting strange since they woke up together in bed. Maybe he was disgusted that Roman was invading his space by cuddling into him all night. To be fair, he hadn’t known it was actually Virgil while he slept. He just thought he was finally able to sleep without nightmares.

He also noticed that Virgil had been crying before they ran into each other in the hallway. Roman knew what it looked like to cover tears-he’d done the same plenty of times. It worried him. Once again he remembered Patton telling him not to give up.

He sighed, closing his eyes as the events of everything built up in him. He wished they were closer. He wouldn’t have to dance the dance of avoiding Virgil’s buttons that caused him to be closed off. He swore to himself that the boy was an enigma. One moment, flirty and confident. The next, turned off and cold. The conversations they had were basically a mine field. Once wrong word or movement and boom-explosion.

Roman sort of understood. It must have been traumatic for his Papa to die like that. Hell, he saw the damage it did with his own eyes when they got home yesterday. He knew that it would take a while to get Virgil to open up to him. Plus, it wasn’t like he was being an open book about his feelings either.

It was a mess. He hated feeling this way. He knew very well that he was pining over the Emo. He was tired of denying it. It had felt so right to wake up next to Virgil. The way he looked after just waking up was amazing. He was so warm, too. Roman had finally accepted that he was at the very least crushing on Virgil. It hurt too much to consider the feelings being even deeper than that, so much so that he whimpered softly.

So what now?

He couldn’t tell him. No, Virgil would kick him out. Avoid him, call him a creep, and probably kill him. He couldn’t force himself to stay away, either. No, it would be like jumping off of a cliff and trying to resist gravity. It looked like it was keeping his feelings to himself until he truly knew who his soulmate was.

Virgil walked into the room and joined him on the couch. He put his arm up to rest behind Roman’s head. Roman enjoyed the pain accompanying the bliss from how close they were sitting.

“So, Roman, wanna play Minecraft?” Virgil asked. His dark eyes were playful. It was unfair that Virgil did all of the dazzling.

“Sure,” he answered lightly. He found it a little too easy to relax into the feel of things when Virgil was also letting go of his tension.

Virgil turned on the television and set up the game. He handed Roman a controller. “Not gonna seduce me this time, your Majesty.” He winked.

Roman choked on air. “I wasn’t seducing you!” He brought a hand to his chest. “I’m sorry, Sour Sally, but you are too bitter to even fall for a seduction attempt in the first place.”

They both giggled nervously. Roman let himself relax again as they played around in a new map on creative mode. He made his way into a cozy looking mountain and started digging inwards.

After he had set up the room, he went to go find Virgil in the game.

“Hey, Virge, wanna share a room with me?” he offered, stifling a giggle for what he was about to do.

“Nah, I don’t like underground homes.” Virgil responded, completely unaware of what Roman was going to say.

“What if…” Roman spoke in a baby voice. “We put ouw minecwaft beds togethew…” Roman set his controller down to point his index fingers together. He giggled at Virgil’s hung head. “Jus kidding...Unwess? UwU.”

Virgil smacked his forehead and groaned. “Did...did you just say ‘uwu’ out loud?” He was clearly having trouble hiding an amused smirk.

Roman cackled, losing control. He clapped his hands together as his face started to hurt from laughing. “You- you brought it....on yourself...for staying in bed with...with me last…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence as he slapped his knee. His laughter became silent. He had tears in his eyes. He didn’t know what was so funny but his body was so lost in the humor of it all. His abs hurt from clenching so hard. He was sure his face was tomato red.

He was so distracted by his hysterics that he wasn’t ready for Virgil to tackle him.

He didn’t resist as Virgil quickly gripped his wrists and threw him back against the couch. He was laying underneath Virgil on top of him. He was completely pinned, and his giggles didn’t stop despite his embarrassment.

Virgil’s long purple bangs nearly tickled his forehead. That did not help his laughing fit. He looked into Virgil’s dark eyes, which were crinkled from his own grin.

“You’re never going to let that go, aren’t you?” Virgil mused through his own chuckles. He smirked at Roman’s hysterical giggles. “You okay, Princey?”

There was that nickname again, spoken so casually. As if he knew Roman’s deepest desires and dreams. He paused immediately, feeling his heart flutter at the nickname. “Are you, Stormy Night?”

The energy between them shifted. From one second full of light banter and giggles, the next there was that damn electricity in the air. His breath quickened unapologetically. He couldn’t control the way his face reddened under the gaze of those damn dark eyes. They were a storm threatening to destroy him in the most pleasurable ways imaginable.

He noticed that Virgil was tense above him. His muscles were constricted while his expression turned panicked for a quick second. Roman was very aware he was still being pinned down in a somewhat intimate position. He waited for the second Virgil pulled away. Any second the boy with purple hair above him would pull back like always.

That didn’t happen. . Roman was very aware that he could see that Virgil’s barely visible pupils were dilated. Their chests were touching, so he could feel that Virgil was also breathing heavy, even though he wasn’t the one who just went into hysterical laughter.

Roman whimpered a tiny bit at how intense this moment was. He felt that Virgil must have been feeling something akin to attraction if he was leaning in like he was.

Wait, leaning in?

Roman felt his heart pound so loud. It was a rhythmic, roaring thunder vibrating through his every limb. Every muscle in his body ached with the stillness as they both leaned in for a kiss. His stomach clenched so hard when his lips slowly met with Virgil’s. It hurt to do this, because a small voice in the back of his head was telling him to pull away. That he was going too far.

That voice disappeared when he felt, more than heard, Virgil moan into his mouth and press into him more.

His heart rate tried to invade his ears, but Virgil overwhelmed the sound with his own passionate noises. Roman lifted his head up only to be pushed down by the force of Virgil’s kiss. Virgil was pressing into him. Roman was finally protected from the tense storm that had raged around them for months. Every piece of him wanted to scream Virgil’s name into the stars. The skin underneath his Marking tingled in insistence to continue.

He surrendered to Virgil’s request to part his lips. He pressed his torso up against Virgil, and a piece of him was detached. Convinced this was a dream. He shoved his logic aside as they started to shift. Virgil released one of his hands. Naturally his first instinct was to run his hands through that iridescent violet hair.

Virgil eventually pulled away for air. Roman whined at the loss of contact. He opened his eyes quickly to see the look on Virgil’s face. He watched as Virgil slowly opened his eyes.

Roman couldn’t help the giddy grin that made its way onto his face. He breathed a sigh of relief, like the knot in his stomach had released.

“Finally,” he breathed out. He leaned up for another kiss but froze when Virgil shuffled off of him.

“No,” Virgil’s voice broke. “No, I’m sorry, we can’t do that again.”

Roman’s heart had never been shattered that way. He heard an audible crack break across his chest as his eyes welled with tears. The room lost it’s glow, like all the color withered away as the world started spinning again. Anxiety that he only had known in his nightmares made itself known in his body.

“Wh..” He closed his eyes to stop his tears. “Why’d you do it then?”

Virgil scoffed. His eyes hardened. He crossed his arms in that stupid defense. He looked away from Roman. He bit his lip, those damn lips that Roman immediately regretted tasting. He looked like he was refusing to answer.

“No,” Roman whispered. Virgil turned to him sharply. He repeated himself louder. “No, don’t close me out. Don’t put up your defenses like that, Virgil.”

Virgil hissed through his teeth, “Don’t tell me what to do, Roman.”

“Just tell me why you keep playing these games with me!” Roman’s voice broke nearly as much as his heart as his eyes released the tears. “Why do you run me around in circles?” He ran his hands nervously through his hair. “Am I just a game? See if you can break apart the popular kid, huh? Take advantage of my romantic fantastical worldview? Tear me down to your Knock me down a peg and teach me a lesson in humility? Tear me down to your level to hate the world as much as you do?!”

“Roman-” Virgil interrupted. His face was stone but his eyes swam with an unidentifiable emotion. “It’s not like that,” he stated, his voice sounding like he was choking back tears too.

“Then how is it?” Roman shouted. He stood up angrily. “Because it looks to me like you don’t respect me enough to tell me where we stand until I’m hooked!”

Virgil stood up to shout back, “Damn it, King! You’re too hot headed to listen to me. I don’t have to explain myself! I’m sorry I kissed you, okay?”

Roman stilled. That hurt more. That was worse than the absence of an answer. Once again he felt that damn familiar regret settle in his stomach for pushing Virgil too far.

“You’re sorry?” His voice was feeble. He felt small. Virgil regretted kissing him. That explained it better. It made sense; Roman wasn't very special when he wasn't acting. Virgil was curious then he was met with disappointment. It was just a failed experiment that he immediately felt sorry for when Roman got too clingy.

Virgil crossed his arms. He smirked as he tossed his head back to shove his bangs aside. “Yeah. I shouldn’t have kissed you, Roman. We’re barely friends.” He looked over Roman’s shoulder and set his jaw. “Just forget it. Let it go. It happened, and it won’t happen again.”

Roman scoffed. He brought his hand to his chest to try to hold it together. His voice came out a broken whisper, “I can’t believe I ever thought I was your-”

Just then the door opened, and Patton walked through, creating a break in the storm the boys were brewing.

TAGLIST: @queenoftragedyandrejection (it’s not letting me tag ya, sorry), @k1ngtok1

Let me know if you wanna be on the taglist!

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maddie-grove · 4 years

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Bi-Monthly Reading Round-Up (November/December)

Playlist

“Fallin’ for You” by Sheila Nicholls (The Perilous Gard)

“Come on Over to My Place” by the Drifters (A Gentleman Never Keeps Score)

“Bobby Jean” by Bruce Springsteen (Eleanor and Park)

“Seasons in the Sun” by Terry Jacks (One Perfect Rose)

“A Sailor’s Prayer” by Ann Price and Marilyn Maltzer (Broken Wing)

“Winter Lady” by Leonard Cohen (When a Duchess Says I Do)

“Dance Music” by the Mountain Goats (What Hearts)*

“Sweet Talkin’ Guy” by the Chiffons (Jean and Johnny)

“Know Your Onion!” by the Shins (Lost at Sea)

“The Snake and the Bookworm” by Cliff Richard (Tempting the Bride)

“Everybody Loves Me but You” by Brenda Lee (Someone to Remember)

*I also seriously considered both “I’ll Meet You Halfway” by the Partridge Family and “Sports Analogies” from Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. It’s a complex book!

Best of the Bi-Month

The Perilous Gard by Elizabeth Marie Pope (1974): In the late 1550s, grave, awkward Kate Sutton is banished to a remote castle in the east of England. She’s greeted by superstitious locals, shady servants, an often-absent lord, and the lord’s guilt-ridden (and hot) younger brother. Bored and irritated by all the drama, Kate questions the circumstances of the tragedy that haunts the family. I didn’t have high expectations for this book, which I bought primarily for the gorgeous Richard Cuffari illustrations, but I was blown away. Pope creates a sublimely uncanny setting in a surprising way, and Kate is a wonderful protagonist: principled, rational, and compassionate beneath her no-nonsense exterior.

Worst of the Bi-Month

Someone to Remember by Mary Balogh (2019): In her youth, Lady Matilda Westcott rejected Charles Sawyer’s proposal at the urging of her parents, who thought him too wild. Now she’s fifty-six, loved by her extended family but stuck caring for an unappreciative elderly mother. The marriage of her niece and Charles’s estranged illegitimate son brings them together again, but she never expects anything to come of it...like a total fool. This is a cute novella with compelling family dynamics. I also appreciated the solidly middle-aged protagonists, although Balogh presents them a little too timidly, like a mom trying to get a picky eight-year-old to try asparagus.

Rest of the Bi-Month

A Gentleman Never Keeps Score by Cat Sebastian (2018): Once-popular Hartley Sedgwick is languishing in the huge townhouse his godfather left him, shunned by nearly everyone for his sexuality. Then Sam Fox, a black pugilist-turned-tavern-keeper, tries to sneak into the house to find a nude portrait of an embarrassed friend. Moved by Sam’s decency, Hartley offers his assistance in finding the portrait. As I explained in my post about my favorite Regency romance novels, I adore this book for the way Hartley and Sam’s love story is mirrored and enhanced by portrayals of many other kinds of love, between brothers and friends and parents and children and neighbors and also one very homely dog.

Eleanor and Park by Rainbow Rowell (2012): Park, a geeky half-Korean teenager in 1986, keeps his head down and barley avoids outright ostracism in his poor, mostly white Omaha neighborhood. Eleanor, the weird white girl who shares his bus seat, is tormented at school and at home. They have no interest in being friends, but they slowly bond and fall in love over music and comics. What I liked most about this bittersweet YA novel was the ways in which the protagonists improved each other’s lives. With Park and his loving family, Eleanor gets to let down her defenses, while Eleanor’s boldness inspires Park to embrace his differences. I do wish that Park’s side of things had been developed more, however.

One Perfect Rose by Mary Jo Putney (1997): Upon learning that he’s terminally ill, Stephen, the Duke of Ashburton, freaks out and goes on an incognito tour of the English countryside without telling his family. He ends up joining an acting troupe run by the boisterous Fitzgerald family and falling in love with their adopted daughter/stage manager, Rosalind, despite the many reasons they have no future together. (Or do they?) This is a good, old-fashioned weepy romance that’s elevated by Putney’s serious attention to the theme of reconciling with one’s mortality. There’s also some extremely late-1990s New-Age-ish stuff going on, which sometimes felt a little silly but was still charming.

Broken Wing by Judith James (2008): When unconventional countess Sarah finds her long-lost little brother at a Parisian brothel, she’s overjoyed, appalled, and relieved that he was protected by sex worker Gabriel St. Croix. Grateful, she offers Gabriel a reward and insists he come to live with her and her family. This is another tear-jerking, charmingly dated romance; I felt like a teenager again, reading top-shelf angsty fanfiction. It’s best in the slow-burn first half, during which Gabriel must adjust to a massive reversal of fortune after a lifetime of trauma. The more action-packed second half makes great use of the unusual late 1790s/early 1800s setting, but it does feel hurried.

When a Duchess Says I Do by Grace Burrowes (2019): Widowed Matilda Wakefield, the Duchess of Bosendorf, has been on the run since getting mixed up in her diplomat dad’s clandestine activities. An encounter with scholarly Duncan Wentworth lands her a live-in secretarial position at his rural estate. They connect with each other, but how can love grow when they’re the object of multiple sinister plots? While this entry in the Wentworth series is not as incandescently lovely as My One and Only Duke, I’m still a sucker for spooky country houses, responsible-household-management plots, and sad early-middle-aged heroes. Burrowes is also an excellent writer, and I’m glad that I discovered her.

What Hearts by Bruce Brooks (1992): Sensitive Asa excels at school but struggles at home, thanks to his mother’s severe mental illness and his stepfather Dave’s emotional abuse. Divided into four novella-like sections, the novel follows Asa from his parents’ divorce in first grade to his first love in seventh. I liked parts of this weird, sober book when I read it as a kid, and I felt the same this time. It’s got brilliant moments, most involving Asa and Dave’s relationship, but there’s a lot of telling-not-showing in between. Brooks also can’t seem to decide on the time period; it’s probably supposed to be set 1965-1971, but it always feels like 1963, and you can only blame so much of that on the North Carolina setting.

Jean and Johnny by Beverly Cleary (1959): Short, bespectacled, and working-class, fifteen-year-old Jean feels invisible at her high school until handsome upperclassman Johnny Chessler starts paying attention to her. She’s thrilled, but her parents and sister warn against chasing him. I didn’t like this book much in middle school, but I revisited it because it occurred to me that Jean was a lesbian. Having reread it, I know I was wrong on two counts: Jean is unfortunately not a lesbian (she clearly thinks Johnny’s hot), and the book’s not that depressing. Jean’s no sad sack who’s doomed to a life of grimly chaste square dancing; she’s a legit snack who becomes increasingly self-assured and assertive.

Lost at Sea by Bryan Lee O’Malley (2003): Raleigh, a Canadian eighteen-year-old, hitches a ride back home from California with some classmates she hardly knows after a meeting with her long-distance boyfriend ends in heartbreak. Lonely and a little disconnected from reality--she maintains the belief that her mom somehow sold her soul, which now resides in a stray cat--Raleigh slowly makes friends with her travelling companions and finds some piece of mind. Although nothing much happens in this short graphic novel, it’s one of the most authentically just-graduated-high-school stories I’ve ever read. I could relate to those feelings of fear and disappointment even in the face of exciting new possibilities.

Tempting the Bride by Sherry Thomas (2012): David Hillsborough, Lord Hastings, has desired Helena Fitzhugh, first-wave feminist and successful fiction editor, since they were kids together, but he’s always hidden behind insulting remarks. When Helena’s affair with a married man ends in scandal, though, she unhappily accepts David’s offer of marriage in order to cover it up. Then she gets hit by a carriage and loses every memory she formed after her mid-teens, which happens to be when she met David. Thomas always has an engaging style and deals with even outlandish plots in a sophisticated way, and her take on the 13 Going on 30 plot is enjoyable. However, it is rushed at the end.

#theme of the bi-month: oh no he's hot #books #reading

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thestuckylibrary · 5 years

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Mods’ Reads: December 2018

Here’s the list of everything the Mods have read this past month!

Mod Blue

Red Right Hand* by littleblackfox (complete | 71,532 | M) *graphic violence

"Steven,” Erskine says, his expression shifting from kindly to something sharper. “Make no mistake, there are things that go bump in the night. And we are the things who bump back.”

In 1943 Johann Schmidt attempts to open a portal to the nine realms to raise a demonic army against the Allied Forces. His efforts are thwarted by Abraham Erskine and the Howling Commandos, but not before something comes through - a child. A demon child, his body flame-red but for his silver left arm. Seventy years later Steve Rogers, still reeling from an encounter with a Djinn, is offered a job with the mysterious SSR, and comes face to face with the legendary Hellboy.

If You Ever Did Believe by wearing_tearing (oneshot | 33,192 | M)

Bucky Barnes will never die of a broken heart. The spell he cast at thirteen, in between white petals and whispered words of magic, makes sure of that.

But then Bucky murders someone, conspires with his sister to hide the body, and meets Steve Rogers.

Untitled Bullshit by hakunahistata, Izulkowa (complete | 16,678 | T)

“Date?” Steve smiles.

“Yeah, you an’ me. Dinner and a movie, or we could always skip straight to the fun stuff. I’m easy.”

Steve shakes his head with a small laugh. “Think you have the wrong idea, pal.”

“One of these days I’m gonna convince you that it’s me who has the right idea.” Bucky says, just like he does every appointment.

***

After an injury leaves Bucky Barnes armless, jobless, and back at his parent’s house, he meets his physical therapist, Steve Rogers. It’s not the best timing but it’s certainly not the worst.

The Courage In Silence Speaks Of Love* by Menatiera, Tsuminoaru (complete | 65,135 | M) *graphic violence

"Steve was used to weird things. He was used to mundane things too. What he wasn’t used to, however, was waking up at the crack of dawn to find an unconscious man in his backyard, clearly the reason behind the alarms being triggered."

Life isn't particularly exciting for an expelled Summer Knight in the human world, years after his mortal love died of old age. So he's a little surprised when his old world comes knocking on his door in the form of a wounded, masked and voiceless fey.

Turns out, the new visitor has a past, too, and when it catches up with them, the Summer Knight's life is going to get interesting again.

Unfortunately, among the Sidhe, interesting almost always means dangerous. To them, and to those who they want to protect as well.

it won't be a stylish marriage by mambo (oneshot | 1,546 | G)

Steve wants to propose.

But he's a little shy.

In My Cold Arms by alby_mangroves, coldwinterrose (Eris13), maichan (complete | 35,656 | E)

After James’ rescue in 1991, he felt like he’d built a pretty good, if slightly lonely, life for himself. He had a beautiful cabin in the woods, his cats for company, and his woodworking and knitting to keep him busy. One day though, he gets a phone call that could change everything.

When Steve woke to an unexpected and shocking future, he was at a loss for what to do with himself. There were no more wars to fight, and no home to go back to. He struggled to figure out who he is in this new world; until he finds that maybe he didn’t lose as much as he first thought.

Part 2 of blessed be the boys time can't capture

At Sixes and Sevens by Speranza (oneshot | 2,938 | M)

Part 13 of 4 Minute Window

Hearts Like Ours by FindingFrancis, wearing_tearing (complete | 100,590 | E)

“You’re kind of a weird one, aren’t you?”

Bucky gasps, all mock-offense. “We’re rolling with the insults today, aren’t we?”

Steve flushes again, shoulders tight. “Sorry. Just… Sorry.”

Bucky’s expression softens, and he goes with his gut as he reaches a hand out, fingers grazing the back of Steve’s hand on the table. Steve’s skin is warm, just as Bucky thought it would be. “It’s okay. It’s actually kind of nice knowing you can match my level of asshole.”

Today, of all days, is the day Bucky is going to meet the love of his life. Imagine his surprise when it turns out to be Captain America. Or: The Adventures of Bucky Barnes, the Shitty Psychic.

Lovecraft in Brooklyn* by littleblackfox (complete | 20,562 | E) *graphic violence

Bucky shrugs. “My brothers wish me dead. But I have claimed this world as mine, and should any dare approach I will slaughter them, and their progeny.” “Oh,” Steve says weakly. “Well, it’s tough coming from a large family.”

Part 1 of Lovecraft in Brooklyn

We Are Salmon in the Stream After Years At Sea* by littleblackfox (complete | 18,218 | E) *graphic violence

Steve sighs. “This creepy looking hobo cornered me in the store, spouting some shit about congress with an abomination.” Bucky bares his teeth. All of them. Even Steve finds it unsettling. “I will devour him.” “No!” Steve waves a finger under Bucky’s nose. “No eating people, remember.” “Rule number one,” Bucky grumbles. “No eating humans, or human-like things.” He gives Steve a sullen glare. “I will rend his foul tongue from his worthless form.” “Well, so long as you don’t eat it afterwards.”

Part 2 of Lovecraft in Brooklyn

sun falls moon lights by silentwalrus (oneshot | 1,726 | G)

'Tis the season.

Part 3 of Bucky Barnes Gets His Groove Back & Other International Incidents

back seat drive by silentwalrus (oneshot | 9,683 | E) (reread)

Bucky wants a car. Bucky gets a car. Now Bucky wants to blow Steve while he’s driving the car. It’s awful, how Steve just keeps giving him what he wants.

Part 1 of ridin'

under the hood by silentwalrus (oneshot | 17,007 | E)

Steve continues his terrible campaign of giving Bucky things. Bucky continues various terrible campaigns of his own.

Part 2 of ridin'

No Sacrifice Required* by cleo4u2, xantissa (oneshot | 8,722 | E) *graphic violence

Tentacle Gods: do not mix with Hydra.

Part 1 of Consentacles: Adventures of an Elder God

Tentacles in Love by cleo4u2, xantissa (oneshot | 10,119 | E)

No matter how Clint looked at it, the guy visiting Disneyland and window shopping while eating ice cream could not be the Winter Soldier, much less the reason for the trail of murder and mayhem he and Natasha were following. It couldn’t be the pretty, not-all-there companion either. But someone was leaving Hydra bodies, half-eaten and crushed, all along the Pacific seaboard. Someone who happened to be where the Winter Soldier and his pretty blond friend happened to be.

Part 2 of Consentacles: Adventures of an Elder God

Common Revelations and Other Catastrophes by maikurosaki, Stucky1980 (complete | 29,118 | E)

In retrospect, the moment it dawned on Bucky that he might be in love with his best friend wasn't really a big deal. In fact, as far as epiphanies went, this one was actually kind of underwhelming. Maybe Bucky had lived his whole life with the misconception that an epiphany was supposed to change him forever and doom him to a permanent state of revelation that would make him see clearly the pathway of his life.

What a bunch of crap!

Starlight* by Hopeless--Geek (wuzzy90), littleblackfox (complete | 50,707 | M) *graphic violence

There is no time. No time to process, no time to grieve. Steve pushes the horror, the guilt, down into the pit of his stomach, a lead weight that would crush him if he allowed it. The noise from the array distorts, changing in frequency as the light flares up, painfully bright. Steve turns away, shielding his eyes, and sees the Borg on the walkway before him move stiffly, its head still bowed. It slowly rises, lifting its head. The red laser sighted by its right eye strobes across Steve’s face as it turns towards him. It was human, once. It’s eyes a shade of blue that Steve hasn’t seen in half a lifetime.

I know you.

Hold My Hand Along The Shore by littleblackfox (oneshot | 5,284 | G)

So there were these two guys. They had never met, never spoken to each other, but one day one of them wrote a letter. If you held my hand, I would feel it.

Check, Mate? by talkplaylove-art (talkplaylove), wearing_tearing (oneshot | 1,938 | T)

A notification from Check, Mate? blinks back at him. Steve’s heart speeds up when he opens the app and then his face breaks into a blinding grin when sees what’s waiting for him.

James likes him back.

Part 1 of endgame

Part 5 of Happy Steve Bingo

Just About Half-Past Ten by rohkeutta (oneshot | 1,979 | T)

But as he reaches Madison Avenue, Stark Tower a mere block away, the skies open with a whoosh, and he barely manages to duck under the construction scaffolding perched over the sidewalk. Thunder rumbles overhead, and Bucky frantically checks every compartment of his bag for an umbrella he knowsis there.

It’s not. He does find some loose glitter, though, and a lipstick he wore for Pride and had thought he’d lost, plus a spare Metro Card he can’t remember buying.

He also gets a crystal clear flashback of leaving the umbrella under his desk to dry yesterday morning, and never picking it up again.

Leave Those Umbrellas At Home by rohkeutta (oneshot | 2,441 | T)

Bucky watches the watery snow come down and thinks about it, his mood deflating steadily. He imagines Steve going home the next morning, sitting down at his desk and opening his Super-Secret Sexcapade Journal and writing Bucky’s name in next to a carefully-thought Preparation & Performance Grade.

B+ for the effort to look nice naked, C- for being embarrassingly vanilla and wanting to do it face-to-face so he could scritch his fingers through Steve’s beard and hair. Not worth a repetition. Kinky Grade: F.

Bucky’s being uncharitable and he knows it, but Hangry Barnes can be a sad sack of shit when he wants to.

Get Scrooged by alby_mangroves, leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) (complete | 19,765 | T)

You'll be haunted by three spirits. The first is gonna come tomorrow when the bell tolls one. That's in the morning. The second's gonna come the next day at the same time, and the third, same again.

Bucky was keeping his head down in his tiny apartment in Bucharest, because that's what you did when you were a former brainwashed assassin and never knew who might be coming after you. You kept your head down, you didn't draw attention, and you tried real hard not to think about what you'd done, all while trying to piece together your fractured memory.

But it doesn't matter how down you keep your head—once the Bureau of Christmas Spirit has you in its sights, you're getting a visit from the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Yet to Come. No appeal, no review, and you can't lock the doors and pretend you're not home.

Luckily for Bucky his Ghosts have their own agenda, but whatever happens...someone's getting Scrooged.

buachaill sciobail by silentwalrus (complete | 5,271 | not rated)

“Okay,” Sam says. “Okay. Alright. O-kay. I just, I gotta say, man, when you told me ‘Bucky is a selkie’ this is not... really…. what I... imagined.” “What did you imagine?” Steve says. Across his lap - or rather covering his entire body from the waist down - the eight hundred pound tube of blubber that is J.B. Barnes blows a snot bubble.

Part 1 of barnacle boy

teach your man to fish by silentwalrus (oneshot | 12,835 | T)

Bucky doesn’t deign to stay in Stark Tower for much longer than it takes to completely clean out the kitchens’ fish supply. After slurping down the last oyster and sneering in disgust at the contents of the walk-in freezer, Bucky turns to Steve, pelt over his shoulder, and says, “Where do you live?”

Podfic available by the magnificent Quietnight!

Part 2 of barnacle boy

where the dread fern grows by silentwalrus (oneshot | 6,684 | G)

Sam's gotta buy a wedding present, and nothing but elf booze will do.

Part 1 of a greenhouse in brooklyn

march of the pumpkins by silentwalrus (oneshot | 2,380 | G)

Halloween in Brooklyn, bog witch style.

Part 2 of a greenhouse in brooklyn

Scenes From A Marriage: Mailbag by Speranza (complete | 17,908 | not rated)

This is the 4 Minute Window Advent calendar for 2018! As always, my goal is to tell a little bit of story each day (knock wood) between the Immaculate Conception and Christmas. Explicit eventually, the rest as it comes. This year's story features letters written, in world, to Captain America. If you want to write a letter to Cap, drop it in the comments or email me and I might use it (but no promises, because this is a terrifying tightwire act as it is.) Also feel free to request things you want to see and I'll see what I can do. Hope you enjoy: buckle up!

Part 14 of 4 Minute Window

Wrecks My Nerves by castiowl (complete | 48,344 | E)

Honestly, all Bucky wants to do is win Hell's Kitchen so he can get out of his shitty apartment and be happy for once in his life, but then Steve is there and he's awful and wonderful and terrible and ruining everything. It's the Avengers: Hell's Kitchen!

The Big American Family Cooking Showdown by dearlydraupadi (complete | 11,066 | G)

Steve Rogers is a cameraman for the Big American Family Cooking Showdown. Bucky Barnes is a contestant along with his mother and sister. Steve Rogers can't stop filming Bucky Barnes' beautiful face. It's not long before the rest of the crew is getting annoyed, Bucky is getting a clue, and Steve is getting embarrassed. Welcome to the Big American Family Cooking Showdown!

Art for Art's Sake by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) (oneshot | 4,101 | T)

“But Professor Barnes is more fun,” Steve said, smiling wickedly, pressing the tip of one long finger to Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s brain flatlined at the contact, left him blinking down at Steve. Steve watched him for a bit, then his smile softened and he let his hand fall. “James, then. And you can explain what’s so fascinating about the painting.”

Bucky pulled himself together with an effort. “I think the artist who painted this was having some fun. Maybe he didn’t like the guy he was painting it for?” Steve looked at him sharply. Bucky didn’t quite know why, maybe he'd made some sort of art faux pas, but he pointed at the shadowy spot with the pigs. “Here. You can tell me if I’m imagining it.”

Steve leaned in, following the line of Bucky’s finger, one hand settling gracefully onto Bucky’s bicep for balance. His hand was warm, his long fingers strong and supple as they curled slightly, and Bucky swallowed hard and called himself nine kinds of idiot. He was a grown man, not some high school kid with a crush. Steve’s hand was on his arm, not anywhere interesting. This was stupid.

His suddenly racing heart seemed determined to ignore the message.

no matter how long the day is (i'll come home to you) by alby_mangroves, talkplaylove (oneshot | 27,769 | T)

Steve’s spent an hour along Portobello Road before he sees the paparazzi on the left side of the street, trying to be inconspicuous by a street lamp. He crosses the street and ducks into the first store he sees, tucked behind a screaming red door and under a blue and white striped awning.

He listens, feet planted in front of the door, shoulders tense, as he looks around the shop. Row upon row of books are on the shelves in front of him, the wood creaking under their weight. Behind the counter is a dark haired man wearing a jacket, elbow on the table, stubbled chin on one hand, gloved left hand flipping the pages of a book.

No one follows Steve in.

Or, the one where Captain America travels the world, learns how to be Steve Rogers again, and meets Bucky Barnes along the way. Also: the one where two old souls fall in love over young adult books, long distance calls, and texting at strange hours of the day.

The Heart of a Dying Star by layersofart (layersofsilence), velleities (complete | 38,200 | E)

As ancient legends have it, mighty magical weapons can be forged in the heart of a dying star.

Wanda, driven by her desire to avenge her brother’s death and backed by Hydra and their secret plans, uses ancient magic to knock a star down from the sky.

Halfway across the land, Steve, the Captain of the Avengers Guard, finds a fallen star named Bucky.

Mod Julia

Steve Rogers and the minefields of social media by cpt_winniethepooh (oneshot | 1,795 | T)

Steve gets a Twitter account, then an Instagram one, then he gets Bucky back, too.

Kissin' by the mistletoe (Love came to stay) by obsessivereader (oneshot | 4,949 | E)

“I told you,” Steve wheezes, as he tries to catch his breath. “Didn’t I fucking tell you we'd fall if you didn't quit pushing?”

He’d laugh if he had any air left in his lungs. Instead, all he can do is stare up at Bucky as the sound of his carefree laugh winds its way around Steve’s heart. He barely even registers the cold seeping in through his jacket and jeans as he lies in the snow, attention catching instead on the snowflake clinging to Bucky’s lashes. Were Bucky’s eyes always that luminous? The crinkles around his eyes so endearing? Were his lips always that pink?

Bucky’s laugh dies away at Steve’s continued silence. A strange expression settles on his face, like he’s looking into the face of a stranger for the first time, studying and cataloging Steve’s features one by one—eyes, nose, mouth.

Cafe Au Écoute by littlesystems (oneshot | 3,829 | T)

No matter where Steve goes, there's always the chance that he'll overhear a conversation about himself - or rather, Captain America. This coffee shop is no different. The fact that he keeps eavesdropping well past the point of plausible deniability is another matter entirely.

the audacity by mcwho (oneshot | 2,598 | M)

“I don’t know where you all got the idea that I was giving it to Steve with the lights off under the blankets in total silence by candlelight, but you’re all wrong. Wrong.”

Home is a Smell, Home is a Heartbeat by odetteandodile (oneshot | 3,633 | M)

Bucky cooks an old recipe of Sarah Rogers'.

Steve learns that sensory memory is a bitch.

It all comes out okay in the end.

Leave Those Umbrellas At Home by rohkeutta (oneshot | 2,441 | T)

Bucky’s being uncharitable and he knows it, but Hangry Barnes can be a sad sack of shit when he wants to.

Catch of the Day by Eremji (handsfullofdust) (oneshot | 4,680 | E)

Bucky’s not laughing at him, not where Steve can see, but after Thor gives Steve an appraising look, scratching his beard absently, and says with usual cheer, “You’re most fortunate. This enchantment is only temporary,” Bucky makes sure he’s not in Steve’s direct line of sight.

It's about par for the course that Steve Rogers get himself in all manner of trouble. A couple extra limbs are really no big deal.

all the words are gonna bleed from me by doctorenterprise (oneshot | 1,151 | M)

It’s been a long time since Steve felt such an unwavering, steady rage.

A brief, dark look into Steve's devotion to James Buchanan Barnes.

What Makes a Home by i_buchanan (oneshot | 14,788 | E)

Bucky's grateful to be living with Steve again. Grateful to have another chance to keep him close, regardless of the stress of keeping his feelings to himself. It would be a lot easier to do that, however, if Steve didn't seem intent on getting him more than he could think to ask for.

Long Live the Long Lost King by Kryptaria (oneshot | 1,980 | T)

Bucky had no idea he was royalty.

To be fair, it’s not like they had DNA tests and ancestry databases when he was a kid. But now? Turns out his sisters had kids, and their kids had kids, and someone got a multi-pack discount on DNA test kits.

I Can Say The Sun Burns Much Brighter Today by Kajmere (oneshot | 5,919 | T)

Over the years, Steve has learned to choose his battles wisely when it comes to arguing with Natasha. So, when she hands him a set of keys and says they’re dropping him off at one of her secure locations in the middle of Steve-can’t-even-remember, Europe, for a few days of rest, he puts up a fight for all of thirty seconds before resigning with a sigh.

Snow way out by TyrantTirade (oneshot | 17,161 | E)

The call barely goes through, Natashas voice lagging in and out until it becomes more clear. Steve hopes that it stays that way for at least a few minutes, long enough to figure out what to do to salvage the situation. So much for a winter vacation, he thinks.

“So,” he starts, “I think there's a blizzard here.”

two strangers in the bright lights by Claudia_flies (oneshot | 7,348 | E)

It really is an accident. Steve wouldn’t even call it a slip of the tongue, because what he said and the way it was heard were two different things.

christmas traditions by belovedmuerto (oneshot | 2,091 | T)

Bucky wants to know what they used to do at Christmas.

I got that good thing for you by canistakahari (oneshot | 5,830 | E)

When it comes down to it, Steve will do anything for Bucky. Even if that involves fulfilling a very specific seasonally-adjacent fantasy.

re:spite by steebadore (oneshot | 4,150 | T)

It starts, as most things do, with spite. The problem is, it doesn't end there.

A Tree for (Not Quite) Christmas by layersofsilence (oneshot | 4,348 | T)

Steve’s been up since three in the morning to deal with these assholes. All he wants now is to go back to their safehouse and nap until Tony picks them up.

Of course, he should've known better than to ruminate on that particular subject. As soon as the thought crosses his mind his peaceful bubble is absolutely and comprehensively shattered, first by the slam of a screen door and then by a small girl who barrels from her porch to crash headlong into Steve’s legs.

Undercover by glyphsbowtie (oneshot | 1,094 | T)

Steve Rogers says these words in a matter-of-fact tone that has Bucky nodding for a second, before he catches himself. “Wait- what? You're going to kick his ass?” The tiny man next to him nods. “I don't like bullies,” he shrugs. “Anyway, I thought I would let you know because I would hate for you to get hurt.” “Gee, thanks.” Bucky is staring in absolute shock at this adorable vigilante. “Um, has it not occurred to you to call the police, pal?”

territorial by mcwho (oneshot | 2,734 | E)

The thing about Steve Rogers is that he’s a jealous, possessive, Grade-A All-American asshole

#mod picks

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newbi-ginning · 5 years

Text

You just want to sin

You probably guessed that I grew up as a Christian.

You might have gathered that I’m not a Christian anymore.

Pretty sure that I mentioned being bisexual.

To a fundamentalist Christian, Those three statements, put together, would be 100% proof that I just want to sin. I… don’t want to sin, but I do want to do some really fun stuff that many religions consider sinful. So let’s start with The God Thing.

I went to a fairly liberal church for being in rural part of a “Southern” state. But I was a biblical literalist up until I was a junior in High School, and started to move away from the attitude that bronze/iron age ideals were good for a modern world. I said some pretty shitty things to friends that were not out. Actually, nobody was out in my high school. It would have been dangerous. But I was that guy that was homophobic who would later admit to some same sex interests. Now THAT is gonna be future topic, because if all homophobes were secretly gay… the South would have a lot more “Confirmed Bachelors” than it does.

I also dated a very fundamentalist girl (first sexual partner).

For all her goodie two shoes-ness, she liked to fuck. The shame she eventually felt about the sex we were having, that I was going to hell for not being a creationist, etc., eventually led to an ugly breakup. Not my first girlfriend, but she was the first one I wanted to marry.

And I’m so glad that I dodged that bullet. It wasn’t a Neo in the Matrix dodge, more of taking punch to the gut that made me double up as the bullet passed overhead.

That breakup hurt. It hurt for a long fucking time. Chemistry can be destructive. Maybe that was why I stopped trusting that feeling of “ooh, that person there!” and ignored by occasional desire to get with a guy. Those feeling had been badly wrong once, so they couldn’t be what guided me. I was more careful with my heart. When I felt that, I would check to see if we were a good fit before I got serious. Fundie but hot? No. Liberal Christian, but horrified by the thought of blowjobs? No. Liberal Christian, hot, interest in kink, bad about returning phone calls and jealous? No. Hot, liberal Christian but not too focused on it, not kinky but very willing to learn, returns phone calls, just the right amount of possessive, and liked blowjobs so much that sometimes she came while giving me one, and has a sex drive that is a good match for mine? Tell me more, nudge nudge, wink wink. That was still in the future.

Honestly, though, Those same sex urges hadn’t even raised their (not at all ugly, but actually kind of exciting) head yet. I had the occasional wet dream where I was fooling around with a guy, but never put any stock in them. The vast majority of my wet dreams were straight, anyway. Dreams are weird, and trying to understand them is often a lost cause in my opinion.

I had a dream once where I got incredible head… FROM A FLOWER! I had watched Pink Floyd’s The Wall sometime earlier in that year, so maybe that had some relationship. I don’t think I’m a bloom-o-sexual.

Although… Maybe I could be an Orlando-sexual. Hard to argue with either of their choices in that pairing. So, bi. So very, very, very (drools a little) bi.

And I wasn’t denying my bi nature at the time. I still hadn’t really noticed that some guys gave me that feeling. But there was a part of me that did say “See everybody! Kissing a girl here! Very publicly! Stop saying I’m gay!”

Of course, gay, fag, cocksucker, and similar slurs were among the worst things you could call someone in my highschool, while also being practically meaningless insults. It didn’t mean that someone thought you were LGBTQ+, just that you were someone they didn’t like. And sometimes, you just called your friends that because guys are weird about showing affection. I’ll hug you, but I’m patting your back, so I’m also hitting you.

My PDA was performative heterosexuality, but it was also genuine. Making out is fun. But so is masturbation, and while I had season tickets to Yanky Stadium, I still prayed for forgiveness for my lust every week, silently and earnestly, but eventually gave up on asking forgiveness or feeling guilt. The Christian attitude towards forgiving sins is really weird. Consensual sex with the wrong person without telling god you are sorry gives you hell. Be a serial killer, confess, you go to heaven.

I also had noticed that an orgasm a day kept most of the wet dreams away. I get to cum and sleep soundly? Pass the porn!

College came along, and I started to get sick of the bullshit that I saw from fellow Christians, attacking the one sin they weren’t in to, while wallowing in the other. I also got a lot more accepting of LGBTQ+ people. Being exposed to them, knowing them, having them as friends will do that. Still, no same sex urges, but I was happy to say that this actor or that guy was hot. My crushes were still all women or sometimes NB. I started dating Her, and anything else got lost in the first and only emotionally, physically, and mentally satisfying relationship I have known.

Then grad school and marriage to Her. Our wedding was beautiful and in a church, and I was still very religious, even if I had stripped a lot of the Christian baggage away as less and less of the world lined up with what was in the bible or the not quite biblical dogma of Christianity. Time passes. I live my life and experience some amazing things.

And eventually, I came to understand that I no longer believed in heaven or hell, god or devil. I also no longer recognized sin as a meaningful concept. Only the good, bad, and mixed things we do that affect ourselves and others.

But I will agree that both Elisabeth Hurley and Tom Ellis both make for very sexy devils.

Did I go on a killing spree? Did I cheat on Her? Did I start stealing or lying? No to all three. Those would hurt people, and I wouldn’t want those things to be done to me, so I didn’t do them to other people. I “sin” just as often as I did before I became an atheist. And I’ll only fool around with someone if I have permission from Her. Cheating, outside of my previous religious framework, only exists if it happens without permission.

I’m not angry at god. I was angry at being convinced that the whole thing was real for so long. I am mad at bigotry justified by religion. But I’m no madder at god than I am at Santa Claus for not bringing me a pony. I don’t believe they are real. Their believers are real, but I don’t think they are.

I’m more moral now, if anything, because I reject the idea that someone should be punished for doing something that does no harm, and similarly, that doing something that harms someone else can be forgiven by talking to yourself, no reparations or actual contrition needed.

But I will say this, I don’t feel even a little bit of religion derived guilt for having the occasional same sex attraction.

Atheism is working for me in a way that Christianity never truly did. I don’t have fear for thought crimes. I don’t fear judgement by something that I don’t think is real. I’m not afraid of a heaven or hell or a god or a devil.

I’m free of religion, and its great. Because I had already taken that step, accepting that I’m bisexual was much easier. No questions about god accepting me. The only people I needed to accept me were me and Her. And I got that.

But I am occasionally afraid of people that feel like they need to tell random passers by that they are going to hell if they don’t behave the right way.

#want to sin #atheist #atheism #bisexual #bisexual visability #sin isn't real #happier this way #no shame #atheist lgbt #christian lgbt #christian closet

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cordytriestowrite · 6 years

Text

Keeping Up Appearances

Bucky x Reader

Fake Dating AU

Chapter 3 - All Other Parts

Summary: When an old friend comes back into your life you struggle to maintain the lies you've told. Bucky Barnes has no idea what he's gotten into by agreeing to be your fake boyfriend, but you have no idea what to do about the very real feelings you have for him.

Back again in the relative safety of Bucky's car you let out the breath you had been holding since leaving La Bernardin with Bucky, hand in sweaty hand.

"Holy fuck." You cried burying your face in your hands. You voice echoed through the parking garage, its range extended by the open driver's side door. Bucky had yet to enter the car, a worn leather jacket he had pulled from the back seat sitting in his place. The blue button up came sailing into the car, settling in a wrinkly ball on the center console. The arm of the shirt landed on your leg and you reached out to touch the fabric unthinkingly. The leather jacket disappeared and the seat was filled by a now jacketed Bucky.

"Hey, look at me." Bucky called in a gentle, calming voice. You turned your head without bothering to hide your distress. He pulled a half smile that stole your heartbeat for a few skips.

"Its all over. You survived." He whispered in the same calm and gentle voice. You scoffed and turned your head to face the windshield and the blank, concrete wall just beyond the car.

"I don't know." You said lowly. You knew it wasn't over, because when Pepper was standing with you, smiling and laughing and sharing her joy, you felt like you used to. You didn't want that feeling to end but there is no way in hell you'd survive this.

But how you used to feel...well that feeling existed because you could afford it. Now, you were making dumb, costly decisions with long term effects, and dragging Bucky along from the ride.

Bucky tried to meet your eye, but you were steadfast in your staring contest with the wall ahead. You couldn't look at him, couldn't admit you fucked up. Your eyes flicked to his hand as it reached toward you but stopped just short of your thigh to encircle the gear shift and put the car in reverse.

"I don't know about you but I am hungry for some real food." He said in a purposely lighter and louder voice. You nodded absently.

"Look, no offense, but oysters taste like snot."

You weren't offended, you thought they tasted like snot too.

A large pizza, fresh and hot, sat upon your lap. It smelled divine and you couldn't wait to get home, get out of your dress and into some sweats, and head over to Bucky's and Sam's and eat this giant, greasy pizza. You wanted to hear about Sam's date. You hoped your friend had a better time than you did. As if Sam knew you were thinking of him, his name appeared on Bucky's phone, which lay atop the pizza box in your lap.

"You got a text from Sam." You told him and he distractedly picked it up. He read the message at a stop sign, only taking a couple seconds to take in the contents and let his face fall into a slight frown.

"That bastard kicked me out of my own place!" Bucky exclaimed, dropping the phone back onto the box. You smirked at the dark screen. Sam's date must be going really well.

"Looks like you're sleeping in the hall tonight." You teased.

"Nah, I'll just stay at my girlfriend's for the night." He countered. It sent a jolt of panic through your chest, thinking he had a girlfriend you didn't know about, but just as quickly as your body tingled with nerves had they settled into bashfulness at the realization that he meant you. You were the girlfriend he was talking about. He intended to stay the night with you.

"Yeah, yeah of course you can." You managed to stutter out. He turned into the garage under your apartment building and suddenly let out a laugh, like he just remembered a joke.

"I'm gonna finally see what you were hanging up on your wall. It is the reason we are together after all. Better be a Monet or some shit." He winked, a brief and blurry vision in the darkness of the underground car park.

Bucky had never been in your apartment, you always going to Sam and his instead, so when he walked in behind you carrying the pizza you were nervous. You had manage to salvage a few pieces of decor and furniture from when you lived in Manhattan; a nice large L shaped couch, your bed frame, and an ornate, gold-framed full length mirror. All the other items in your apartment where either provided by the building manager or purchased from consignment shops. It was an eclectic mix of quality and convenience.

Whatever comment you thought Bucky would make was not spoken out loud. He simply parked himself on the couch like he owned the place and opened the pizza box. Without waiting for you to grab plates he dug into a hot and greasy slice of pepperoni pizza. He moaned loudly as the taste flooded his mouth. The sound sent a shiver down your spine and you busied yourself with gathering plates and napkins until your face felt less heated.

"This pizza is way better than any other food we had tonight." He said as you settled in on the other side of the couch. You nodded in agreement.

"Cheaper too." You added offhandedly. You wouldnt have said it if you had known it was bring you into a discussion you didnt want to be having with the fake boyfriend you had a very real crush on.

"So how did you get yourself into this mess? To me it seems like you used to be loaded like them and now you're not but you dont want her to know?" Bucky's finger moved between invisible points in the air between you as if he was connecting the dots to a larger picture.

"That's basically it yeah." You admitted. You had no intention of telling him more than you had to. You ate your pizza slowly, it was good but the taste in your mouth was dampened by anxiety.

"But how does she not know?" He asked incredulously.

"She's been traveling all over the world since college. We've only communicated through letters and they were very infrequent. Only one or two a month."

"Does she not have Facebook? Instagram?"

"She does," you leaned back against the couch, chewing thoughtfully as you reminisced on the days leading up to her departure. "She said she wanted to be pen pals while she was gone. She thought it would be more exciting to anticipate a letter than an email. Pepper is the kind of friend who will create something special just for you and make you feel like you mean something. She wanted to write letters, they meant something to her. And to me." You realized with a slight bitterness that now that Pepper was back that special connection would be gone.

"If your friendship is so special why hide things from her? Why lie? I dont get it." Bucky's voice broke into your head and along with bitterness you felt a pinch of guilt.

"I'm in too deep now. I've been lying for months. About my living situation, my job, my family-"

"Your boyfriend." Bucky interjected, his tone accusatory though his expression was nothing but playful. You nodded and leaned forward to drop your pizza crust onto a chipped blue plate before sinking back into the couch.

Bucky put down his slice as well and closed the distance between you. You tensed as he invaded your space, his shoulder pressed against yours heavily as he leaned into you.

"Ya know, she's probably going to be using social media more. Might not hurt to take some pictures together. Just to really sell it?" He asked it like he wasnt sure you would see his reasoning and you were doubtful, suspicious even.

"You're willing to do that for me? What about other people? What if you actually like someone and they think you're with me?"

He shrugged and pulled out his phone pressing his thumb to the camera icon. You took in the image of your two faces. You were close but not boyfriend girlfriend close. You angled your head closer and tried to smile naturally but it was obviously strained.

"No, no come on my ma's gonna see this you gotta look like you dont hate me." He laughed, staring into the phone instead of your face. You shoved him and pulled your head away to look at him.

"I don't hate you." You said in your defense, "I just dont think we look-"

"Like a couple?" He finished. He was really good at finished your thoughts.

"Here." He said and shifted into the middle of the sofa. Once he was settled he all but dragged you onto his lap. You felt like a ragdoll in the way you let him maneuver you, but when he pulled up his phone again you could not be upset at his manhandling. You two looked cute. You looked like a couple. You smiled, a small, shy smile and Bucky hit the big white button to capture your image.

"Better. Right babe?"

You smiled wider and another photo was taken. His free hand dug into your side and you laughed and the button was pressed again. His lips pressed against yours, only a peck, enough to produce one more photo. You sat frozen on Bucky's lap as he brought the phone close to his face and scrutinized the images. His hand rested warmly on your hip and occasionally his thumb rubbed back and forth.

"I like this one." He finally declared, showing you the screen. It was the one where he tickled you unexpectedly. Your head was thrown back, eyes closed and mouth open in laughter. Bucky was looking up at you, the corners of he eyes crinkled in delight as he smiled widely, and there was a crinkle in his nose. You bit your lip to suppress a smile.

"I like it to." You whispered, moving your finger over the screen to glance at the other photos. You wanted to see all of them but you mostly wanted to see the kiss, to make sure you didnt imagine his lips on yours. The proof was there, clear as day, but you didn't linger too long on the photo. You were afraid of what Bucky would think, if he would regret kissing you because you were being weird about it.

"I'll send these to you. We need to post a few online."

It was hours later as you lie in bed that you had a chance to really take in all the pictures Bucky had sent. You drank in each image, zooming in and out on your face, then Bucky's. Bucky was right, the laughing photo was definitely the best. It seemed natural and fun. But your favorite was the one where he kissed you, because he had kissed you! Your mouths were off center and the muscles in your neck were too tense. His eyes were scrunched tight too. It was a really terrible picture.

You locked your phone and plunged yourself into darkness as a creaking sound emerged in the silence. Bucky was spending the night on your couch, his attempt to persuade you to let him join you in your bed had failed almost immediately as nerves overcame you. You thought if he had been there in bed, all warm and hard against you on your queen sized mattress, that you would not be able to sleep a wink. Your instincts were right; you weren't able to sleep now with the man crashing in your living room, how could you have handled him in your bed?

The bedroom door opened slowly, bathing your dark space in light. You squinted against the sudden brightness, attempting to make out Bucky's expression but he was silhouetted in shadow.

"Its late enough. I think I can sneak into my own apartment."

You nodded and sat up, but Bucky was already beyond your doorway. You turned the corner into your living room just in time to glance his backside as he closed you front door gently behind him. He didnt turn back, didnt even say goodbye. You locked the door with a dejected sigh, suddenly feeling like your apartment was dark and cold without Bucky's bright, warm presence. You shuffled your way back to your bed. It took a minute to get settled but once you were snuggled in the blankets you pulled up your phone again, swiping through the images of you and Bucky. Somehow these moments already felt so long ago.

Knock knock knock

A gentle rasp of knuckles on drywall near your head stole your attention. You smiled and bit your lip, bringing your clenched fist to the spot where you heard the knocks.

Knock knock knock

He knocked back twice more. Your face was split wide in a grin as you posted a couple photos of you and Bucky to Facebook. You decided to keep the picture of your first kiss with Bucky to yourself for now.

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lvnafics · 6 years

Text

jungri - camping.

pairing: jeon jeongguk & kim yerim.

summary: jeongguk decides to take his good friend yeri out to go on a cool camping trip with him, until they both soon find out about a new wave of emotions.

[warnings]: a lot of f l u f f, softness ahead, pet names, tbh just a very soft friendship story, cuddling! this is just a fanfic! this does not reflect the actual actions of the idols in real life so please do not send any hate!

yerim let out a confused sigh as she reached for her sunscreen, packing it away in a small pocket of the large duffel bag she borrowed from her sister. she stood slowly from her squatting position, reaching onto her vanity to grab her hairbrush as she stared back at herself in the large mirror.

“jeon jeongguk! you could have at least planned this beforehand! do you know how hard it was for me to just cancel my plans for this trip?!” she ranted, practicing the way she would scold the elder boy. she noticed her slightly scrunched up nose, giggling to herself at how ridiculous she looked.

“i can’t believe him. just messaging me ‘get a bag packed, yerm! guess who’s going camping with me this weekend?’ and expecting me to just not have any plans!” she shouted, flopping backwards onto the tousled pink sheets on her bed. she breathed out, moving her hands up to rub her temples as she stared at the ceiling. she brought her knees up, placing the heels of her feet against the end of the bed frame as she stubbornly crosses her arms over her chest. “who said i wanted to just go camping with him anyways?”

“so you don’t want to go?”

a gentle voice rang through her ears, snapping her heads attention to the boy. he was dressed in the normal attire, an all black button up that accentuated his muscles in all the right places. paired with his black jogging pants with a small stain on the right thigh for some unknown reason that was accompanied by his trademark bucket hat. his arms were crossed over his chest and he was feigning a look of hurt from her words as his eyes stared daggers back into her own.

“not when you just spring random ideas into me and try to get me to go places with you all the time.” yeri rolled over to the side by jeongguk, sitting up and staring up at him as she paused her movements. “it gets tiring.” she exclaimed, placing a hand on his shoulder for a gentle pat as she walked past the elder to finish packing her bag.

“it’s not like you have plans or any friends to make plans with at the time. it’s either i bother you or the inevitable boredom demon will haunt you at night.” he smiled at her, walking over and plopping down on the ground as he picked up her bathing suit to help fold and stash away in her bag. “so whether you like it or not, i’m going to wisk you away for a fun friendship retreat. besides, what’s wrong with trying to spend some time with close friends?” he looked at her, awaiting an answer that was hopefully good.

yeri rolled her eyes, grabbing onto a shirt and folding it gently as she sat it on her thigh. “fine, you have a point. as long as you keep me entertained and having fun, you have yourself a deal!” she smiled at him, gently hitting him across the face with the shirt before plopping it into the bag.

“oh yes!” he exclaimed, tossing his fist in the air as a sign of triumph as yeri giggled at him.

in that moment of absolute dorkiness, yeri smiled at jeongguk like she has never before. she was so glad to have a friend like him and knew she was blessed with such a treasure.

something was... off, however. yeri felt her heart skip a beat as she watched the boy before her. he really was such a caring person and she couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him being by her side for this entire trip.

“h-hey yeri...”

she heard his voice bring her back from her daze, looking at him questioningly. “yes kookie? what’s wrong?”

he slowly brought his hand out from behin his back, a red tint hitting his cheeks as he slowly opened his hand to show her the soft lace panties in between his fingertips. “w-where do i put these?”

yeri’s eyes widened as her cheeks burned with a mix of fury and embarrassment. she snatched the panties from jeongguk’s large hands and shouted. “g-go wait for me outside, jeongguk!”

—————————————————————

it had been two days since the two had set out for the camp grounds and yeri was excited. she was having so much fun with jeongguk and couldn’t wait to close off their camping trip as the great friends they are, though yeri didn’t see them that way anymore.

yeri had felt off ever since the day they first came to this campgrounds, and she finally was able to understand why.

yeri has feelings for jeongguk.

she clenched her hello kitty hairbrush as she even thought of it. her... having feelings for her friend... was it wrong? is she wrong? what will jeongguk think? what if jeongguk hates her? her mind raced with thoughts as she finished brushing out her hair.

“what am i going to do?” she questioned, looking at her reflection in her phone screen. “is there even anything right to do?”

yeri sighed, sitting her phone and her brush back into her duffel bag. she unzipped the tent, walking out in her white cropped tank accompanied with her high waisted shorts and her flannel.

jeongguk was sitting with his back towards her as she zipped the tent back up. she turned back to him, smiling slightly as she walked to the small campfire. she rested her hand on his shoulder, moving beside him to take a seat. yeri leaned against her arm, raising her brow questioningly at him. “aren’t you tired? we’ve been out all day, even taking pictures and swimming so shouldn’t you be asleep?”

jeongguk turned his head slightly to look at yeri, a small smile spreading across his face as he handed her a stick. “we’ve done everything besides roast marshmallows together. as soon as we finish this, i’ll go to sleep.” he nudged her with the stick, hoping she’d agree as he flashed his best puppy dog eyes.

“fine fine!” she giggled, moving her arm off of him to reach for the stick.

for a while, yeri and jeongguk sat together as they spoke about little nothing’s. she’d smile and make weird jokes and he’d laugh then hand over more marshmallows. they were having a great time until jeongguk looked at the fire with sadness in his eyes.

“yeri... do you ever feel alone when you’re an idol?” he questioned, feeling the atmosphere change to a more serious one.

“i mean yeah— but isn’t that a good thing? to be alone sometimes so you don’t lose your mind?” she joked, ruffling his brown locks to try and lighten the mood.

“no i mean...” he paused, sighing and turning to look at her. “like though we have people who scream for us and want us so bad, when that curtain falls we have no one. you’re alone. you’re not the person everyone thinks you are anymore, you’re you. it’s like, the world suddenly goes dark after the light it’s shone on you is gone.” he sighed, sadness in his eyes as he continued. “i just... i wonder if i only feel that. if i am, i understand it’s just me, but if you feel that too i need you to know that i will always be here for you yeri no matter what happens.”

he grabbed her hand, holding it tightly and showing off his signature bunny teeth smile as a way of comfort.

there it was again.

that subtle skip of her heartbeat that made tears come to her eyes.

she couldn’t hold it in any longer, and suddenly she squeezed his hand a bit harder as she looked into his eyes.

“for the longest time, i had a crush on you. i thought you were this handsome idol with a sweet personality. i wanted to become your friend so i got to know you, jeongguk. i wanted to be the girl you trusted in so i deluded myself with lies that i just wanted to be your friend and nothing else. for a while now, those lies became truth and i believed i would never gain those feelings for you. but recently, you’ve shown me the truth about you. you’re not just some handsome face with a good personality. you’re a caring man with a heart of gold and a smile that could make anyone smile back. you’re the man with a voice that even angels wish to have and a soul filled with love. you have your weird quirks and your ups as well as downs but you always put others first. why... why did i have to fall for the one man i can’t have? that’s what keeps me up at night jeongguk and i can’t stand holding that truth in any longer!”

she shouted, letting the tears fall as she looked at jeongguk with eyes full of tears. “why... can’t i be the one for you jeonggukkie...?”

yeri stood, pulling her hand away from jeongguk’s as the flood of emotions ran through her. the anger, guilt, embarrassment, and pain of heartbreak told her to just go. so what if she lost her friendship with him? she just wanted to get her feelings off of her chest after so long... and she resented it.

though before she could make a single move, jeongguk grabbed her by her wrist and held onto her tightly. tears rolled down her burning cheeks as she turned to him, seeing his brown locks covering his eyes.

this was the first time that yeri didn’t know what her friend was thinking, and that made her concerned.

“jeongguk, let me go.” she stated, reaching around as she attempted to untangle his fingers on her small wrist. “please... just let me go.”

“i can’t sit here and pretend like i know what you’re feeling.”

yeri stood in silence, listening as he spoke out after so long.

“i can’t say ‘i knew you liked me all along!’ and i can’t say i didn’t know. i never knew you felt so deeply for me and i am sorry. i’m sorry i’ll never be the jeongguk you hoped for who notices everything you want and will be there for you all the time. i’m not that man, but...“

he paused, raising his head as his eyes met yeri’s for the first time.

“i want to be there for you. i want to make you smile and laugh all the time and be able to finally call you mine. i want to talk to you deeply and know you better than i have. i want to be that man for you, yerim.”

for a split second, a bell can be heard as yeri’s smile spreads across her face and she pulls jeongguk into a hug.

“you are one big idiot, you know that?” jeongguk chuckled as he heard yeri’s words, wrapping his arms around her as he rested his chin gently on her head. “and you’re my sweet angel.” he teased, pulling away a bit to show her a smile.

yeri smiles back, enjoying the soft pet name as she heard a small ring come from their tent. “oh! we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow jeonggukie so we should head to sleep!”

—————————————————————

as both yeri and jeongguk wrapped each other in their warm embraces, they chatted to each other all night until they finally fell into a deep sleep in the warmth of each other’s arms.

#this is a whole mess tbh #but we’re gonna go with it #jungri #bts jungkook #red velvet #bts fic #rv fic #red velvet fic #this isnt realistic but me h

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ghostie-stories · 5 years

Text

I’ve Fallen in Love | Eugene Porter x Reader

Hello hello h e l l o my ghostly buddies! Another requested fic coming atcha from the wonderful @eugenessix!!! Hopefully this was done how you wanted it! Fun fact, I had to look up southern sayings, because I’m about as far southern as you can get in America lmao (Michigan is practically Canada territory). I also made a little outfit you could wear but you can forget it if you don’t like it, its just something I like to do for my fics! I decided to make this a full on fit because I don’t have a life and I really don’t want to study astronomy at the moment! (This gets my mind off of my god awful cramps for the time being)

Overview: Reader is in an established relationship with another man, but she falls head over heels for a certain Eugene Porter, someone who’s always been crushing on her but never believed she liked him back. Reader is forced to end her relationship to pursue Eugene. (Three cheers for not cheating!!!)

Warnings: Slight swearing (SUPER slight)

Pairings: Eugene Porter x Reader

Only one thing had been on your mind for the past few weeks, your good friend Eugene Porter. This wouldn’t be such a bad thing if you weren’t already in a seemingly happy relationship with a wonderful and kind man. You were so guilty you felt sick to your stomach overtime you saw him, and when you were around Eugene, you tried your best to suppress your emotions and work on the task at hand.

You met Eugene through the Saviors. You desperately wanted to escape the compound, but had no way in doing so. In an attempt at a happier life, you picked up the friendship of the shy and awkward Eugene, and became very close, relying on each other to be happy under the circumstances. You feared for Eugene’s life, with his standing in the compound being the way it was, And he feared for your freedom. At the time you were single, and easy prey for Negan or one of his goons. You were beautiful and kind, but strong willed and determined, a perfect mix for the apocalypse, and you didn’t notice, but many people had eyes for you, including Eugene. Knowing Eugene, he would NEVER go to a girl like you to confess his feelings, he felt he didn’t deserve you. Because of this, you found love after Negan’s “death”, and built a happy life. Even though you and Eugene continued to talk and remained good friends, it wasn’t until just recently those friendship feelings evolved into love, and you were stuck in an incredibly hard place.

You had just left your small shared home, leaving your boyfriend with a loveless and guilty kiss, on a mission to find Eugene and spill your guts. You’d had enough, and needed to get this feeling off your chest. Spotting the mullet-clad figure sitting at a small picnic table under a tree, you make your way up to him, nervousness and guilt continuing to build in the pit of your stomach. Once again, you had no idea about his feelings for you, so you really didn’t know what he could say. He was tinkering with a small radio, probably for one of the kids in the area, looking up at you a you sat down with a shy smile. The smile made you feel a bit better, but he could tell you were upset by something.

“Y/N? What ever could be the problem?” He said obviously nervous. “You look about as nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rockin’ chairs.” You giggle softly at his cute mannerisms. You had to admit, he know how to make you laugh when you were feeling down, even if he wasn’t trying to. You had to think about what you wanted to say, knowing that he was probably as oblivious as it could get, and kind of wanted to play with him a bit.

“You see, Eugene,” You started as he tilts his head. “I’ve fallen in love with another man, and it isn’t the man I’m with.” He looks at you with a suppressed sadness, forcing a small smile. He didn’t want to see you go through another relationship with a man that wasn’t him.

“Well, that sure did surprise me.” He said, still holding the fake smile. “Who’s the lucky guy?” He finished looking down at the radio before him, unable to hold the smile any longer.

“I want you to guess,” You begin and he looks back up confused. “He’s a little weird, unknowingly funny, very intelligent, has dorky hair that fits his personality, likes to mess around with technology, says the darnedest things, and most importantly of all, is completely oblivious to the fact that I like him.” You look at him with a nervous expression, not knowing where this courage came from, and he thinks for a moment before looking back at you.

“I am indeed a smarty pants,” he starts with an elated smile “If knowledge is dropped, I do indeed pick it up. You’re smitten with me?” he ends his sentence in disbelief, and you nod with excitement. He laughs nervously before saying “Well it appears I’m not the only oblivious one, I do indeed return the feelings, I have for a while now.” You practically snap your neck to look at him, eyes wide with surprise.

“YOU DO!!?!? I mean, really?” You say, trying to hold in your excitement. You should be feeling guilty right now, knowing you were still in a relationship with a unknowing man, but all you can think about was all of the missed opportunities you could have had together. Your first instinct is to lean in and kiss him, but you stop yourself with rational thinking. “I think I have some things I need to work out...” You say and Eugene nods.

“I don’t wanna start any fights that are unnecessary.” You nod and stand up, still in shock, along with Eugene. He goes back to tinkering with a giant smile as you walk away to end your relationship, and start anew with a man you truly love.

Alrighty-o! sorry this took a bit to get out, I totally passed out from pain with my cramps so I’m a bit behind schedule, I hope you understand! Either way I hope you enjoyed! I’ve always seen Eugene as a cheesy guy, so I wanted the whole confession to be cheesy. Thank you so much for reading!!!

#Eugene porter #twd eugene #twd #the walking dead #twd reaction #twd preferences #twd imagine #twd scenario #twd fic #writing

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