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urf1lterr · 1 year

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lovesick | pedro pascal [4]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

previous chapter: [3] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 10.6k

status: in progress

author's note: so sorry for the long wait! but i tried making this chapter longggg. i typically have my days off altogether and the rest of the week booked with work/school. i try to post many chapters within my short timeframe (bc im booked af) so pls expect another update soon after this one! sadly, it takes me around 8-10 hours to write one bc its hard to think lol. also, i don't want this to be too long of a series and kinda wanna connect the dots- slowly but surely, ya know? not edited.

"So, he just came knocking on your door at 6am?" Joon questioned, taking a sip of his smoothie soon afterwards. "I can't even wake up that early."

"We had to do that everyday for our last job."

"I woke up ten minutes before I had to be out the door," he shrugged. "Men get ready fast."

"Anyway," you eyed him as he cluelessly did the same, confused as to why you wouldn't look away. "I don't remember him coming."

"Yeah, because you fucking freaked out and hallucinated over Lady Gaga," Jules exclaimed, you automatically cringing just at the horrible memories you've recently faced with that damn cat.

Once she explained what had happened hours after you had woken up, you were disturbingly shocked.

And the fact that your sleepiness was to blame had you going insane- imagine all the other odd things you may had committed while under the covers.

But you will admit you did remember some of that night's events clearly, again like you practically making out with Lady Gaga- although she was the one who licked your face endlessly first.

Mortified just by the thoughts, you will never be able to face Pedro again sanely.

How could you when you recently dreamed about a man 25 years older being intimate with you- that's...confusing. And the worst part of it all was you couldn't say anything to anyone with the fear of being judged or laughed at- maybe both.

The thing was you couldn't quite understand why you had to dream about that. Maybe your time of the month was coming and your hormones targeted the first guy you had nonstop contact with?

No, that would've been Joon.

Attraction may had played a part but Joon definitely had that, Pedro as well but a little different...age-wise at least. There's no way you felt allured for men with bad jokes and rough skin- no offense. Right?

He did text you that same morning he dropped by and commented on how creepy you are half asleep and whether or not you agreed to his 'business' proposal. Not trying to start a conversation you knew you couldn't finish, out of second-hand shame, you just replied a simple:

LOL but busy with school atm to make a final decision- tell ya later

That later still hasn't arrived.

Unfortunately, you forgot to ask him why he made a random visit that morning- but you weren't going to ask him days later. In your mind, you need to avoid him. There's no way you'd be able to act normal after have unholy fascinations about him.

Not that it'll be a problem, you two hadn't seen each other for weeks before your cafe encounter, you're sure you can do it again without him noticing your distance.

It's been about two days since then which meant you didn't have to prioritize so much of your time on homework, you'll just save that for Sunday when it's all due.

"Did you bother to ask him why?" Jules added, turning to you. "He obviously wasn't coming to see me- I barely know the guy."

"You do know him!" you argue as she rolls her eyes. "You literally got mad at me for not recognizing him the first time we met."

"He's a celebrity- everybody knows him," she defends before tilting her head in curiosity. "But you two are oddly close, it's kind of weird."

"No," you shake your head, trying to laugh off her suspicions. "We are casual friends who fan girl over the same things."

People did take notice how close Pedro and you were but it wasn't anybody's fault you two had so much in common. Both of you loved Starbucks, going on hikes- when you weren't lazy, and believe Matt Healy is extremely attractive.

If they have a problem with that they can sue you.

"I see it," Joon adds, jumping up a bit. "Him and I barely talk and we're men- we should be bonding easily!"

"You're...you," Jules cringes, making Joon glare in return. "I can understand why he chooses not to be close to you."

Laughing, you watch as Joon quickly flips her the finger before he continues on with the conversation. "I just feel like he always comes around only to see you, it was pretty obvious since the first time he took us home."

Furrowing your eyebrows, you didn't understand what he meant by that. Pedro offered all three of you a ride home, not just you.

Already feeling done with this topic, you wanted to switch it before things started escalating and freaky theories started unfolding. They had every right to question your friendship, but you were starting to think they might be leading down a road where they may soon develop other impressions as to what your friendship might have been.

Why are you even thinking that? That's so inappropriate to imagine.

"You two are silly, he probably needed my advice on something or wanted to workout," you suggest, their faces showing they weren't fully convinced. "But anywho, did you call Yoongi yet?"

"I don't think that's a great idea," Joon declared, adjusting in your warm sofa. "He's not really a skating kind of guy."

Since it was Friday and you had no plans, you thought it would be a fun idea to be adventurous for once and do something you would never do on a regular basis.

Ice Skate.

Your friends were extremely down with the idea, but you needed a fourth person to make the group complete. Why not a skinny, impatient blonde man who would probably spend the whole night complaining about why this plan was awful?

Right now you could use some other grumpiness in your life.

"Just tell him to go," you beam back, clapping your hands in excitement as you'll soon be able to fall countless of times on the ice. "I'll buy him hot cocoa."

"You better do it or he'll never let that go," Joon states.

After hours of sitting around and blasting random music through your speakers, the three of you were ready to set off on your journey of locating the ice rink.

If it wasn't for Joon's constant whining to stop walking to take pictures of the scenery you probably would've arrived 15 minutes sooner than your actual arrival, but too bad your friend is a nature freak.

"You taking pictures of the pigeons better not be the reason why you're late," you heard Yoongi grumble as the three of you finally found him sitting on a bench near the entrance of the rink, staring directly at Joon who just scoffed.

"I'm sorry if my happiness bothers you," Joon snapped back as Yoongi just stood up from his seat and made his way to your trio.

Grabbing your ice skates wasn't too difficult as the long line seemed to flow by smoothly, but standing on them was a different story.

"I can't do this," you squeal as your hurriedly motion your arms around to find some balance. "I'm falling!"

Yoongi sent you a questionable look as he watched your poor attempts to stay still embarrassing. "We're not even on the ice yet."

Feeling a hand grab a hold on your shoulders and practically drag your feet towards the ice, you glance up to see Jules steadily directing you to face your fears.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

"Are you going to push her in?!" you hear Joon gasp a few feet behind you but you couldn't turn your head as you rather focused your attention on yanking yourself off of Jules.

"It was her idea so she'll be the one going in first."

"Ahh!" you screech, putting all your pressure on your feet to stop her hard pull. Spiraling your ankles in the most crucial ways, you start to lightly slap her arms off you as she continues to fight them off.

One thing about her was she's going to make sure to remind you that this was your idea.

Feeling an arm gently tug you off her grip, you landed on Yoongi's side as Jules whined in return, offended that he ruined her vicious plan. Respectfully, he kept you stable with an arm wrapped behind your middle back as you gripped his other one, fearful she might snatch you away again.

"Why would you do that?!"

"I don't think watching her fall face first on the hard ice would be a fun sight to see," he bluntly returned as Jules huffed. "The sight of blood gives me the ick."

"I was waiting for that moment all afternoon," Jules sighed, disappointed that she wouldn't be seeing you fall- yet.

Waiting for her to walk away to go on the ice, you see Joon follow her before you released your friend, relieved that she wouldn't be partaking in her scandalous scheme just yet.

"You do know how to skate, right?" Yoongi asked, his uncertain eyes on yours as you crazily wave your arms in front of him to rub off his questionable thoughts.

"Do I? Of course I do!" you argue, making your way towards the ice until you were two feet away from it. Putting your feet on the edge, you hesitate as you could feel the cold breeze wrap around you legs. "I'm gonna go now."

"Yippy," he states, waiting at your poor attempts to convince him.

Giving him a thumbs up, you clap your hands together to try to reassure yourself that you could do this, forgetting that he was right behind you secretly laughing.

Taking one final breath, you placed your right foot on top of the ice steadily, trying your best not to make any harsh movements, until you felt a hard jerk on your upper body, making you lose yourself in an instant.

"God, if you don't know how to skate why would you suggest it?" Yoongi grumbled, gliding both your bodies along the ice as he held tightly onto your arms. You were practically skating like a wet dog in front of him, begging with your eyes for him not to abandon you.

"I always wanted to try."

Sending you an annoyed look, you zipped your mouth as his arms were now securing you, closing any gaps there may have been and giving you the ride of your life.

Shutting your eyes harshly, you didn't dare to witness the environment around as you felt the icy wind slap your face the faster you two- or at least by Yoongi's swaying, got.

There were times where he did pretend to lose his balance, causing you to cry in horror and him immediately placing his hand over your mouth by how loud you weaped.

But other than that, you came to enjoy his help as your two other friends rudely abandoned you guys in order to practice their poor attempts of leaping across the rink.

"Okay," Yoongi started, releasing his left hand from your side and keeping you close with only his other. "Now you try on your own."

Fear creeping up in your face, you rapidly shake your head in disagreement and try catching his recent abandoned arm, which he denied. "I can't."

"Can't or won't?" he countered back making you silent.

He did have a point.

"C'mon, it's not that hard. If Joon could do it, you can."

"He's literally on the ground right now," you whine as Yoongi quickly averts his eyes in search of your tall friend, soon finding Joon clutching his knee in pain as Jules records on her phone.

"No."

Sighing, he continues to look around, trying to plan out an idea that would at least convince you to slide a few feet alone without his help until he smirked and met your eyes.

"What would Matt Healy do?"

Widening your eyes, you were taken back by his question.

Only Pedro used that line on you.

And for some reason it felt odd when Yoongi did the same. You shouldn't be bothered by his choice of words...but you were a little.

He wasn't him to be saying it.

"He wouldn't force me to do something I didn't want to do," you reply back, causing him to groan.

"I feel like you just want to be in my arms," he retorted with a grin, immediately making you revolt and fly out of his arms, your bottom hitting the ice hard. "Well that's one way to make you skate."

Feeling immediate pain on the back of your thighs, you just knew you were going to be bruised and swollen the next day. But hey, this technically counts for your workout for the week.

Awkwardly swaying your body around, you couldn't get up off the damn ice. You were sure you looked like a fish out of water by how crazy you were moving.

"Get on your knees," Yoongi commented, causing you to send him a death glare as he lifted his hands up in defense. "It helps you stand."

Or he could just grab your arms and help you himself.

Cautiously following his suggestion, you slowly pull your right leg up and place it firmly on the ice before slowly trying to do so with your left one. As you began to feel satisfied with the weight being supported, you felt your body finally working and lifting up off the ground before he poked your shoulder- making you fall again.

"I'm going to murder you!" you threaten as you stare at him on your back, whole body restlessly laying on the ground in misery as he cackles loudly.

He may have advantage on the ice, but oh man- once you regain your balance off it you were going to end that slender man's life.

"Isn't this just a sight to see," you heard someone exclaim before hands grab your arms and soon lift you back on your feet.

Moving your eyes to the ones in front of you, you burst out in smiles. "Bella! Nico!"

"I take this as my queue to leave,'" you hear Yoongi mumbles but you swiftly grab his arm from his close proximity and halt his plans.

He was not going to desert you now.

"What are you girls doing here?"

Not seeing them for a few weeks didn't make things awkward, but different. It was like catching up with old friends, even though you barely met them less than three months ago.

"Had nothing to do tonight so why not ice skate?" Nico giggled.

Bella examined you up and down before pointing at your head. "My god, your hair grew so long. Has it really been that long?"

Rolling your eyes, you were about to answer her before Yoongi cut in. "No, it's her fake extenstions."

Gasping, you turn your body to him and smack his shoulder as he smacks you back. One thing about him, he's all about equality. You touch him, he touches you- simple.

You don't see the way Nico and Bella exchange smirks to one another before Nico slides in front of you and pulls out her phone. "We should take a selfie! You know, for memories."

Laughing, you agree. You took some pictures with them but never really out of the work environment.

Uncomfortably standing still, Yoongi hastily moves to the side a bit, not wanting to intrude this moment you were having with your friends. He was a pretty sociable person, but only if they had things in common and he fairly knew them.

Yoongi didn't know these two young girls and he sure as hell didn't want to be the one being kicked out of this picture- so why not kick himself out first?

"Where are you going, we need your long arm to get us all in the frame!" Bella exclaimed, motioning Yoongi to move back as he sent her a flustered glance.

"I can just take it with the three of you."

"Nonsense!" Nico argued back, shaking her head as you giggled. "We don't leave people out."

Biting his bottom lip a bit, he scratches the back of his neck swiftly before increasing the speed of his skates to the girl, accepting her phone. "I suppose."

Fixing your posture, you stand behind your friend as he carefully raises his right arm up in the air, positioning the phone that was able to capture all four of you in the frame.

Pulling out the gummiest smile, you bursted out a gigantic grin after seeing the rare radiant expression Yoongi was giving. He was never one to show much emotion so finding him giving in for a picture amused you.

Taking the phone out of his hands, Bella examined the screen before chuckling. "Wow, you've got one adorable smile."

You could've sworn you saw Yoongi blush as he lowered his head while shaking off her compliment, trying to act natural but he wasn't fooling anyone.

He was shy.

Gasping at the sight in front of her, Nico pointed at the concession cart near one of the exits of the ice. "They have hot cocoa! We must get some."

Faking a groan, Bella allowed her friend to drag her away but not before sending you a pout to follow, which you were happy to do. You were freezing to death without even realizing it until you stopped your attempts to skate for the picture.

"I was promised a free cup," Yoongi stated as he was gliding behind you, softly pushing your back as you proceeded to do nothing but allow him to direct you to where your desired hot cocoa was.

Scoffing a little, you shush him as you reached the exit ramp. Jumping off, the two of you slowly waddled to Bella and Nico who were next in line.

"Wait," you start, pausing your footsteps which resulted in him almost falling after slamming to your side. "Shouldn't we ask Joon and Jules if they want one?"

Peeking over your shoulder, Yoongi looks back down to you. "Nah, don't wanna ruin their fun."

Following his recent glance, you could see Joon and Jules in front of one another, both holding hands as they try to catch a faster pace while twirling in big circles.

You were sure they were eventually going to knock a small child over soon.

"Next," you hear the worker call out, sitting behind his register waiting for your arrival.

Quickly walking up, you place your order as nothing else but the hot drinks seemed to interest you. The total came out to be the cost as what four drinks at your local cafe would be, but you shouldn't be surprised since this place was pretty popular to the public.

Pulling out his wallet so fast, you didn't have to process what Yoongi was doing until you caught the view of his credit card as he handed it over to the man in front of you.

"No-" you try intercepting what had just happened by giving your card to the worker who just shrugged as he had already paid for the drinks on Yoongi's card. "Why would you do that?"

"You're too slow," Yoongi bluntly said as he grabbed the two drinks and moved to the side so the next person in line could place their order.

"But it hadn't even been three seconds since he said the total before you handed him the card," you protest.

He handed you your cup, hoping it'll shut you up as he took a small sip from his own. "And?"

Is he being serious? "'And,'" you question as he continued to be unaware as to what you were getting at. "Since the beginning I vowed to buy you hot cocoa."

Yoongi laughed at how stubborn you were becoming. "Vowed? What a great word choice for this scenario, fiance."

Rolling your eyes at his teasing, you hated the fact he was avoiding your question. You knew he did it because he wanted to be a gentleman, but the problem was he didn't want to admit he was one.

Again, he was being shy.

"I see you are kind," you smirk as he gave you a disgusted glance. "Don't worry, I won't tell people you have a heart."

Before he could leave a snarky comeback, Nico and Bella came back in giggles as Yoongi retreated back to his natural state of looking lifeless. "Oh my gosh- we went to get napkins and I kid you not I may have poured my drink on the back of this poor little girl."

Lightly gasping, you widen your eyes as Yoongi confusingly replies back. "May have? You don't know if you did or not?"

Bella makes an accountable face, scrunching her nose in the process. "Okay, I did. But she's the one who ran into me!"

"Well, she was really small and you kind of didn't search your surroundings before kneeing her," Nico exposed, causing Yoongi and you to give each other a concerned look.

"You kneed her?!"

"Only in her side," Bella excused herself, sending Nico a betrayed look. "It wasn't like it was her stomach."

"It practically was...," Nico mumbled but became silent when her co-star eyed her hard.

Coughing uncomfortably, Yoongi caught everyone's attention as he tried to avert the conversation into something that wasn't as horrific as striking a child with hot cocoa and a knee. "We should probably hit the ice again soon before Jules and Joon find out we got these drinks without them."

"Jules is here?!" Bella beamed, searching around for her through the large gatherings of people on the ice. "I missed that crazy lady, she was the only one who would get my coffee order right."

"She told me she would threaten to get the baristas fired if they kept getting it wrong," Nico recalled, chewing her mouth a little. "That's why I stopped letting her take my orders."

Sighing, you looked up in the ceiling in disapproval as you could feel Yoongi laughing his ass off beside you. That was very Jules of her to do.

After another two hours of trying to figure out how to skate, and basically latching onto Yoongi the whole time as Bella and Nico were doing laps around you guys, you finally made it home.

To say you were exhausted would be an understatement- you were drained.

No, seriously. You hadn't worked out this much since Jules and you almost missed the subway two months ago and had to run three blocks to catch it on time.

That day was dreadful, but you were sure if you went to bed you were going to wake up lifeless like a worm.

"I call the shower first!" you hear Jules scream, running to her room in order to grab her belongings but you were faster and instantly made your way to the bathroom, locking the door before she could break in. "You bitch! How dare you steal it with my back turned!"

Grinning evilly to yourself, you wanted to get your night routines over with so you could hit the pillows quickly. Even after taking off all your makeup, taking a very steamy shower, and doing your nightly skin care routine, you were sure you could easily knock out sitting on the toilet if you had the chance.

We all have done it once in our lives.

Opening the door, the steam flows out smoothly as you face your very displeased roommate on the other side, glaring at you. "All yours," you smile, stepping to the side but she roughly pushes you in response, causing you to yelp as you manage to catch your balance midway.

Mental note, burn her eggs next breakfast.

Stepping into your room, you change into an oversized hoodie and sweats before throwing yourself under your covers in excitement.

The moment you've been waiting for all day: sleep.

Closing your eyes, you feel all your senses slowly drifting away from your body as relaxation crept up from all around. It was truly intoxicating how in trance you were.

But of course with your luck, nothing goes as planned- ever.

Wildly jumping up from the loud blaring of your phone, you cover your face in agony as the vibrations and noise cause pain throughout your entire body.

Who the hell was calling you at 10 o'clock at night? This should be illegal.

After taking a minute to control yourself, the ringing stopped. Good, now you won't have to make time to engage in a conversation. Quickly falling back down onto your pillows, it wasn't even ten seconds later before you feel your phone going off like crazy again.

With you eyes shut, you move your hands around your bed until you feel the cool object underneath your pillow. Lazily pressing any button, without batting one eye open, you move the phone to your ear before releasing a groggy, "What?"

"What a lovely way to greet somebody, kiddo."

You instantly freeze, automatically thinking about the vivid dream you had about him, then Lady Gaga, and felt a blush creeping in.

Slowly pulling the phone away, you let out a loud but fast scream before moving it back. How the hell are you going to begin a conversation without thinking about his lips on yours. "What do you want?"

Pausing for a second, you can hear him move around through his end. "Did you just scream?"

It's not like you didn't just dream about him kissing all over your body two nights ago.

"Did you just wake me up to ask me the obvious answer?"

Act like you don't care. Like you are perfectly fine.

He chuckles lightly and you can tell by his tone he was close to passing out too. "Somebody's cranky, is it past your bedtime?" Pedro teased.

You were definitely not in the mood to handle his ridicules at this hour, especially by how nervous he was slowly making you. What did he want?

"Yes," you simply reply before hitting the red button, ending the call and laying your head back on your pillow. Good, just end it before you make a bigger fool out of yourself.

It hadn't even been another ten seconds before your phone was ringing once again. Pulling it up to your face, you let out a huff. What a shocker, it was him again.

"You better have an insanely good reason as to why you chose to wake me up in the middle of my dream," you immediately say as you press the 'accept' button.

Hearing him laugh, you just know he has a sarcastic comment coming any second. "Wake you up? Honey, you're still living your dream talking to me."

Honey.

No, not another nickname for him to call you in future dreams.

Shaking that thought away, you rejected the idea of him being in any more dreams- you forbid it.

Loss at words for a second, you almost let your next words trip over one another before calmly gaining your composure at the incidental choice of your pet name.

"So funny," you reply back, trying your best to sound sane. "Pretty sure I was dreaming of a very shirtless Matt Healy playing 'Please Be Naked' to me."

Why the fuck would you slip that out.

"Are you trying to hint at something?" he smirks, making you press mute and hold your hand over your mouth to hold back the screams you feared would release.

Feeling like your soul was about to leave your body, you couldn't believe he just said that.

Actually, you couldn't believe you would even recommend that song. God, your sleepiness was messing with your mind.

Finding your energy once again, you unmute the call and try to seem unfazed by his last comment. "Yes, that I want to sleep. Goodbye now."

Before you could hit the red button again, you could hear him chanting over the phone to do the exact opposite. "Don't!"

Groaning, you clutch the phone harder in despair. "I am so tired. Don't do this to me, please. I am a girl who values her sleep!" you whine as you hear him continue his light giggles in the background. "If I don't sleep I will die, is this what you want. Are you trying to kill me?"

"I can reassure you I don't plan on keeping you up long," he explains. "And I wouldn't dare wish for your death."

Your heart fluttering, you glare at your chest. "Then what do you want?"

Moving his phone from one ear to the other, he lays in his bed while smiling at his ceiling. "You," he declares, making you widen your eyes as he shuffles around in his blanket. "Tomorrow, let's hang out."

Sitting up against your bed frame, you furrow your brow. "Hang out? For what?" There's no way you will be able to act normal for a long period of time, your weak-self can't do it.

Placing a hand over his chest, he lets out a light hiss in fake hurt by your comeback before continuing. "Can't I hang out with you by choice and not by a work schedule? Unless you're so disgusted by me." That's when he started his fake cries. "I'm so sorry I am not Matt Healy and can't do a great British accent."

Shaking your head, you try to intervene as his ugly cries become louder through the line. "That's not what I meant, stop being dramatic," you complain as he instantly stops while smiling widely. "Is there a specific reason why you want to hang out?"

Taking a deep breath, he fiddles with the fingers on his non-occupied hand. "Does there need to be a reason?"

You pause for a second. He's acting too kind for your liking and it's making you question what his intentions are. In this point of time, you're sure he's going to take that moment to convince you to work with him in Canada.

"With you there's always a reason."

Scoffing lightly, he grumbles. "I just want to go on a hike and need a hiking partner."

Oh hell no, you already did enough working out this evening. You were not about to do that again, that's for sure.

"Yeah, nooo," you exhale lowly. "I already did too much working out with my body if you know what I mean and-"

"I don't know what that means," he cuts you off.

"It means I am going to be sore for days so my body has no strength to walk for more than five minutes," you declare as he falls silent.

After a few seconds that felt like forever, he replies. "Fine," he blankly states. "Have a goodnight, sweetheart."

The warmth as blood began drawing to your face became present as you quickly reply with a simple "night" before ending the call. And for some reason you felt as if you couldn't breathe normally by the pounding on your chest.

What the hell was happening to you. Looking up at the ceiling, you silently pray you don't have a Lady Gaga 2.0 fiasco.

As you were questioning why your heart made you feel as if you were going under cardiac arrest the night before, your body was currently making you feel if you really needed to make that trip to the ER by how tender you were.

It also didn't help that Jules was the one waking you up at the crack of dawn, half asleep with her eye mask clinging onto her forehead.

"W-why are you-" you grumble, rubbing your eyes as you look at the alarm clock near your bedside. "-waking me up at 6:18am? It's Saturday."

She sent you a death glare for assuming she randomly wanted to wake you up for the fun of it as she was the one who was woken up first. "Someone's here for you."

Positioning your body upwards, you squint your eyes up at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Why don't you take a look for yourself," she gritted her teeth, swaying her head towards your door.

Slowly standing up, you make your way to it before sneaking a peak of the view of your living room. That's when you see a very annoying man you were sure you both agreed on the phone last night to not go hiking.

Luckily, he didn't notice your wandering eyes as his were glued to his phone, scrolling through his social media.

What was he doing here? You can't face him without thinking about his body wrapped around yours and his lips doing dangerous things.

Oh no, you truly were screwed.

Lightly shutting your door, you nervously turn back to your roommate who looks displeased. "I told him no."

"No means yes, I guess," she replies, snaking her arms around her body for warmth. "I'm going back to bed."

You could hear her walk out of your room as you frantically begin searching for something warm yet comfortable clothes to wear on this undesired hike. You knew if you tried backing out he would stay until you caved, he was very persistent to get what he wanted.

And what he wanted was for you to get your ass up and exercise.

You were also certain you heard Jules let out a "thanks for the invite" to him before hearing her bedroom door shut.

Running out of your room, you made sure not to look in his direction so he wouldn't see your morning appearance clearly- well he already has but why reveal yourself in this state again?

Quickly brushing your hair, teeth, and washing your face, you change into a baggy green sweatshirt and some black workout leggings before slipping on suited running shoes.

Try to act natural. Give him little attention so he won't speculate anything. You aren't into old men and did not vision him smooching you on your sofa.

"You are so buying me breakfast," you deadpan as you walked straight out of your door, not even daring to wait for him to follow.

Good, be straightforward.

Laughing to himself, Pedro promptly jumped off the couch and jogged after you once you shut the door on him and continued down the halls to the elevators.

Finally catching up, he barely made it through the elevator doors as they were closing to find you leaning against the corner, mad and tired. "Good morning to you, too."

You let out a small cry as you lay your head against the wall in pain from how frustratingly exhausted you were. If one cold breeze hit you outside you were sure you were going to burst into tears.

"Oh, come one," he walks over to you and nudged your shoulder to wake up some more. If he unexpectedly touched you again you were sure you were going to rip his arm off. "In a few minutes you'll be wide awake and fine."

"How dare you assume I'm going to be fine!" you whine, trying to hit his side but he manages to capture your arm and that's when you give up and allow your worn out body to fall on him.

He instantly wraps his arms around you as your head falls just beneath his chin, your eyes slowly closing and your thoughts drifting away as his warmth was making you drowsy.

You tried to stay focus, but your poor state was taking over and you suddenly weren't as anxious as you once were. Being sleepy really made your mind roam.

"Hey, now," he whispers and looks down to see you snuggling up against him. "You can't fall asleep on me. I do not want your security guards thinking I drugged you."

Tightening your arms on how lower sides, you ignore him as you feel yourself easing closer to dozing off by the constant beating of his heart. "Stop," you mumble, clutching your ears softly before positioning your head on the other side of his chest.

"What?" he curiously glances down at you.

"You heartbeat's annoying me," you lightly whine. "It's pounding against my ears."

Pedro was extremely glad you were too tired to process his heartbeat and the bright red tint plastered across his face. Your drained-self definitely saved him from embarrassment.

Finally, the elevator doors opened and you still weren't moving. You were too comfortable to make any effort to walk on your own and if he really wanted you to hang out this morning then he was going to have to find a way to make you move.

And to him, dragging you was his best option yet. But with care.

Delicately keeping his arms secured around you, he gradually walked out with you still engulfed by him, eyes shut and only moving your feet with his pace.

Honestly, you were surprised how much rhythm you had.

Stopping to pull out his car keys, he unlocked his car and opened his passenger side door once you two reached the garage complex. Gently, laying you on the seat, you station you head against the headrest as he buckled you in. "God, I really hope security doesn't report me."

And once he made it to his side and hopped in, he laughed at the state you were in, head instantly bent to your side and legs tangled together in hope to create some kind of warmth. "Adorable."

But of course you were too dumb to not catch that.

You were awoken by a small speed bump and the instant hit of warmth through the heat vents, your eyes slowly glancing around your surroundings. Taking a quick peep at the screen indicating the time, you read that it was almost 7am.

Tilting your head and leaning against the headrest, you lazily stare at Pedro as he continues to drive to god knows where.

"Don't I look so handsome in the morning?" he jokes before meeting your eyes, sending you a warm grin.

And handsome on top of you.

Shutting your eyes tightly, you beg your imagination to please shut the fuck up.

"You mean drastic," you mutter, moving your head to the opposite side, against the window to force some sleep again.

Better to make time fly by faster knocking out where you were sure you wouldn't say anything stupid.

"Hey, no..." he whines, moving his right arm across to shake your chin softly to keep you conscious. "Don't pass out on me again, I'm lonely."

"And I'm tired, deal with it."

Shuffling in his seat, he looks over to see you curling yourself up in a ball with your legs to your knees and arms wrapped around. Not thinking things throughly, he hits the brakes hard for a split second and watches as your body jolts forward before swinging back against his seat.

"What the fuck!" you shriek, propping your body up and facing him in pure rage. "Are you trying to irritate me?!"

"I'm lonely and you're not helping," Pedro calmly states, shrugging as you continue your daggers his way.

You were beyond pissed. How could he think you would be energetic and talkative right now? How could he attempt to make you fly out the window? You could feel your nerves slowly fading away by the fury growing inside you.

If he wanted you awake then fine, you were going to be awake.

Doesn't mean you had to talk though.

Silently sitting up, you stare at the windshield in front of you and watch the cars drive as he continues to spare you a glance every once in a while.

Honestly, your silence was terrifying the fuck out of him. Normally, you would have some snarky comeback or violent punch to return to his evil tactics, but you were doing nothing.

Literally nothing.

And he knows damn well the sights of trees and cars did not interest you.

"Hey...," you feel Pedro lightly poke your side, pursing his lips once he saw your non-existent reaction. "You're not mad, right?"

Ignoring him, you continue your deep stare now onto more trees as you two were getting closer to nature than streets. You must've been out for some time as you barely noticed how far away from the city you really were.

Joon would really love this.

Gradually lifting his arm up, his places it on top of your own and gives it a small squeeze while laying it there. "C'mon, don't ignore me."

As if that would make you stop your scheme.

Blinking slowly, you acted like you paid no attention to his puppy dog pleads as the car was making its way towards an almost empty parking lot, all surrounded by a forest that only had one route starting within an old wooden bridge.

Pulling up to a nearby parking spot, Pedro parked the car before turning back to try and capture your attention but nothing was working.

You were so damn frustrating, it was infuriating. But he was still desperate to gain your attention.

"Are you just going to sit in here all day or what?" he questions as he waves a hand over your face to make you blink.

You didn't and that kind of frightened him. Work of the devil.

"I am going to cry," he warned, swatting his hand over his face to prepare for his fake tears.

Yet you showed no mercy. Sitting there patiently, you inhaled and exhaled softly, causing him to internally flip the fuck out because why were you being so aggravating when the two of you should be walking and pointing out the squirrels fighting over nuts.

And sadly, he was slowly giving up.

"Imagine if I really was crying," he began, offended you did not care one bit. "Really means a lot how unconcerned you are."

But when you suddenly started examining your nails and carefully picking at them is when he totally lost it.

Reaching over to you and moving his arm down your arm, he swiftly intertwined your fingers with his before moving you posture to face him.

His hand was huge.

"No, no-" he started, pulling a face as you gave him a blank stare back. Act natural. Pulling your shared hands in front of his chest, he sulks. "-please, for the love of whichever god you believe in, or if you're an atheist- for the love of you, please talk to me."

Watching him beg for forgiveness has always been funny in the past, but his pleading for attention now makes you feel bad.

"If you talk to me I will buy you breakfast and a very delicious milkshake that will make you extremely happy for the rest of the day," he continues, using his free left arm to wrap around you as his right one still clutches onto your palm.

He's so warm.

Pursing your lips a bit, you send him a skeptical glance. "Oreo shake with a lot of whipped cream?"

He instantly nods, a smile breaking out. "Of course, anything you want."

You look at the car's steering wheel before averting your eyes back to his. "And a red cherry?"

"I'll buy you a full jar of cherries if it makes you happy," he declares.

"And fries?"

Agreeing, he lets out a quick nod again. "With extra seasoning."

Biting your lip, you proceed to think about other stuff you may want with your milkshake and fries. "A burger?"

"My goodness, woman" he sighs, letting go of you and jumping out of the car before running around to your side and opening your door. "I'll buy you the whole menu, now let's go!"

With that, he vigorously yet cautiously pulls you out of your seat and throws you over his shoulders.

"Oh no!" you squeal, trying to find something to hold on to as he begins his journey, walking towards the bridge to start the hike. Grabbing a hold of his neck, you try not to choke him as you place your arm around it.

If you were going down, you were sure you were going to break his neck in the process. At least it would be a learning lesson for him.

"If you drop me I am never talking to you again," you threaten as he continues down a path.

"Said that before and just did it half the car ride here," he begins, moving his shoulder to give you a little fright of your life. "Now I just found out that all I have to do is buy you food and you'll yap again."

Glaring, you choke him a little to which he chuckles. "Didn't know you were into that."

Speechless, you couldn't believe his words. What the hell was he on this morning?

"Put me down!" you exclaim, immediately moving your body so he would lose his balance. Once he did so, you scowl as he ruffles your hair, making it tangle around. "Hey!"

"Can you stop being negative for a few minutes and enjoy the environment?" he asks, pulling his arms up to twirl around. "Just take in that fresh air mother nature gifted us."

Scrunching your nose, you frown. "It smells like rotten eggs."

"Because of the ducks," he pointed out before patting his pockets. "Which we will be feeding with the bread I brought."

Examining his pocket, you shoot him a curious glance. "How big are your pockets?"

"Not important," he states, grabbing your arms and dragging you along with him down the long trail. "What's important is finishing this trail to feel accomplished."

Pouting, you allowed him to drag you along as you miserably dreaded the next few hours to come. The energy you had to give off just for some damn breakfast.

Shame on you for loving food so much.

Encountering many frogs, lizards, and pigeons who loved flying right by both of your heads and scaring you to death, you had long forgotten about how anxious you were being around him. Being distracted constantly had you occupied which was a relief.

Eventually, you two finally found the drugs.

Or the ducks.

Walking by a huge pond, there were numerous amounts of ducks leaping around with their families following behind. It was really cute, but the smell wasn't.

"I wonder if they can choke on this?" Pedro muttered as he pulled out a large bread. Slowly nearing one medium-seized one in caution, he rips a piece apart and throws it. "It is kind of thick."

Taking a moment to check the bread out, you sigh. "Are you feeding these ducks bolillo bread?"

He pauses, not sure why you would care to ask. "Yes and?"

"They have thick crusts!" you exclaim. "And why not just feed them normal wheat bread?"

"Who even eats wheat? It's bland." he protests. "Plus, this is leftovers from my dinner last night."

"They're ducks! They don't care," you argue as he shakes his head.

"Just imagine if you were a duck," he began, making you huff in annoyance as you just knew he was going to say something ridiculous. "Wouldn't you love to eat this nice bolillo bread, maybe visualize a torta with some carnitas, onions, avocado, can't forget the refried bean-"

"The duck is choking!" you squeal and stare in fear as the poor duck starts to wheeze sharply.

Pedro's facial expressions drops as he sees the poor duck quacking in agony. Nervously rushing to its side, he looks up at you. "Do we pat its back? CPR? Call 911?!"

Pulling out your phone, you type away to find answers for your current problem. It was indeed true that you aren't supposed to feed ducks bread.

Especially thick Mexican ones.

"Give it mouth to mouth if you want chlamydia," you read aloud, causing Pedro to instantly leap away from the duck as it hastily begins to lay on the ground. "Wait, you get that from birds, not ducks. Silly me."

"Ducks are birds," he discloses, trying his best to softly pat the ducks back, finally giving it one powerful swat to help but instead the duck ends ups being thrown a few feet away by his force.

"Do I look like a fucking duck doctor?" you spit out, making him look up confused.

"You mean a veterarian."

Ignoring his last comment, you continue scrolling through more of google's suggestions, finally finding some information that may help. "You need to press down on its chest with 1-2 fingers or just give them water to drown it down."

Immediately grabbing the duck and placing it on its back, you worriedly watch over the duck from Pedro's shoulder as he works his fingers on the poor animal.

However, no luck was given as the duck was beginning to look weak and drowsy as pressure kept being projected on its chest. "We need water!"

Running towards the pond, you motion for Pedro to follow along with the duck as you look for a safe ramp to lead the duck onto. "Let's just lay him down near the water and splash him with it."

"He?" Pedro asks, stopping his movements. "But it looks like a she-"

"We are not arguing over its gender when its literally dying in your arms!" you exclaim, causing him to quickly nod and follow the ramp you found towards the water.

Gently, Pedro lowered his arms near the water with the poor duck taking over his hands. Trying to move the flow of water towards its face, he calls you over. "He's not accepting it, you need to scoop some up in your hand and pour it over his beak."

Rapidly nodding, you do as he says and take a handful and try not to spill it before gradually pouring it over the duck's beak. This water was not clean, but at least it was something. Nothing was happening until your third scoop once the duck began to actually swallow some of the water slowly.

"I-I think it's working! We did it!" Pedro cheered, trying to give you a high-five, failing incredibly as he somehow managed to lose his grip and dump the poor duck hard in the pond. "Oh shit!"

Squatting down, you try to reach for the duck as its face was buried underneath the water before Pedro's body slams into yours, causing you to fall into the dirty, cold pond.

The feeling of thick, muddy water overtakes your body as you lose all sight of air. Quickly moving your arms up and down, you rise back to the surface to find Pedro with his hands over his mouth and his jaw dropped.

He knew he wasn't going to hear the end of it.

"Fuck," he nervously muttered to himself before reaching out for you. "I am so so so sorry, the leaf made me slip AH!-"

He couldn't finish his sentence as you yanked his arm down with you, pulling with almighty to get him to land in the pond. The weight of the water going down with his body diving harshly against it, you knew he was completely soaked.

And probably pissed, but its okay. It's what he deserves.

Waiting for him to come up, he finally did so in seconds looking very unhappy. It made you delighted.

"You did that on purpose!"

Scoffing, you splash him and watch as he gasps harder. "You do a lot of things on purpose."

Using both hands to release bigger waves, he splashes you back. "Don't splash me!"

Growling, you slap his chest as he clutches your wrist afterwards. "You're so lucky I forgot my phone at home."

Gasping, you feel one of his hands fly underwater. "I didn't!" You hold in your giggles as he shuffles frantically before moving his gaze back up. "Wait, I never removed it from my glove department. Be fortunate I forgot it because if you destroyed it I would've made you walk home."

Furrowing your brows, you push his shoulders and make him move back by the force of it. "You're the one who started it. We're gonna get duck chlamydia now!"

Rolling his eyes, he pushed you back, causing you to fall under the water. Once you caught your breath again you notice the way he glares at you. "That's not even a thing."

"Just another STD to add to your list," you jokingly mumble to yourself, sure he didn't catch it.

You were wrong, again.

Launching himself onto you, the two of you fall underwater as he shoves you body around in revenge. Swimming back up, you gasp for air while slapping his arms off you as he tried blocking all your attempts.

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he clings his face on your shoulder as he proceeds to try and bring you down under but somehow you manage to wrap your leg around his thigh, causing him to lose his strength and fall backwards with you on top of him.

He sure has one strong grip.

Now, not saying you were going to kill him. But this was your chance to kill him with no witnesses.

Well- besides the ducks, but they wouldn't quack a soul.

Regaining his energy, he lifts himself back up and holds you up, about to drag you under again before you crazily oppose while shaking your head, "Don't! We're gonna get sick!"

"That's not a very sincere apology," he tilts his head, his wet hair scattered across his face as he awaits your alibi.

Huffing, you fight back a rude remark. "Do you understand how much poop were swimming in right now? These ducks are probably laughing at us by how much they are quacking."

Swiftly looking around, the two of you check the surrounding ducks around who blankly stare back. The older looking ones hollering nonsense, probably making plans to kill you and Pedro.

"I bet their releasing their chlamydia right now," you cry, hiding your face in his shoulder as he bursts out laughing.

"I don't think that's how it works."

Glancing down on him, you're surprised by his strength. He's been holding you up by your waist for so long you're shocked he hasn't dropped you accidentally yet. "Let's not find out, let's get out."

"You're forgetting something," he smiles, staring innocently at you, knowing damn well you can't leave without his release. "And I wouldn't wait this one out because I am pretty sure I feel toads swimming near my feet."

Instantaneously, you clung onto him tighter in fear as you could imagine the feeling of something swarming around your body. It was like hundred of spiders crawling all over you, you needed to get out of here.

Pulling yourself back up, you place your hands on his shoulders as he impassively stares back at you, waiting. "Fine," you huff. "I'm sorry for claiming you had STD's before."

Pedro just stays there, not moving an inch as if he wants more. Groaning, you knew he wasn't going to give in so easy. "And I am sorry for stimulating the idea that you would get duck chlamydia," you apologize. "But you can get E. coli."

That didn't help as he just helplessly eyed you, not impressed with your poor excuses of your so-called apologies. What more did he want? You can't necessarily beg on your knees, you're in the water!

Whining, you knew you had to pull out your sincere face. You just knew your Oscar-worthy acting was about to award you freedom.

Softly, you move strands of hair stuck near his eyes away from his face and brush his hair back before quivering your lips and looking down upon him in sorrow.

He has really pretty eyes.

"I'm really sorry," you start as you push your face inside his neck and lock him inside your arms. "I know you don't have any infections, you don't even have visible rashes or sores to prove it."

Pedro finds your plead for forgiveness charming as you squeeze him tighter. He begins to release you until he hears the mutter of your "-that are visible."

"You couldn't hold it in for a few more seconds?!" he whined at how fast you went back to insulting him.

Sighing heavily, you slap a hand to your face. "It's hard!"

Suppressing a laugh, he unwrapped his arms around you and let you get back to the sidewalk. But once you were back on your feet, you looked down to find your body filled with random pieces of dirt, sticks, and grass. "Ew!"

"You're not sitting in my car," Pedro states, waving his head side to side to release some water from his ears.

"You're worse than me!"

"My car, my rules."

Frowning, you weren't sure if he was kidding or not. "Well, you almost committed first-degree-murder so if you don't want people to know you must be my personal servant."

His instant glare turned into confusion as he abruptly moved his attention back towards the pond. "Where did the duck go?"

Widening your eyes, you forgot that you had a helpless duck in your hands minutes ago before your splash attack with Pedro. Scanning your eyes from the sidewalks to the ramps to the pond, you noticed a duck floating nearby. "I think that's them."

Pointing at a duck with the closest familiar colors than the rest, you felt Pedro let out of sigh of relief. "Thank goodness, I would have felt extremely guilty if she would have died."

"It could be a he," you snap back.

He was about to protest but honestly, you were done for the day. You just wanted to take a long and hot shower and knock back out. Not only that, but you ruined your cute running shoes you gifted yourself months ago for your work out journey.

You never really wore them, but it's the thought that counts.

"We can get breakfast another day," you plead to which he didn't argue over because he really wanted to remove the unknown substances off his body asap.

He wouldn't admit it, but he was genuinely scared he may have gotten duck chlamydia .

"Okay, but no sleeping in the car," Pedro states as you exhale loudly. All this and you still weren't allowed to doze off, how cruel is life at the moment.

Walking back to the car would've went down smoothly if the two of you weren't given disturbed looks from strangers and your clothes weren't clinging uncomfortably to your bodies, especially your shoes.

Luckily, Pedro had towels in his trunk and set them down on the seats. "God, I am definitely going to need a deep cleaning after this."

Slipping inside, your hands find the heater and turn it on full blast. Not only was it freezing outside, but your drenched state made you feel like an icicle.

Setting off back to the road, your mind begins to wander back to the question that has been flooding your mind lately. Craning you neck towards his presence, you make out his comfort state. Cool, he's calm.

Here goes nothing.

"So," you start, awkwardly playing with your hands as you try to make direct eye-contact with him as he turns his head to you. "Why did you visit the other morning?"

Lifting a brow, he pulls a face. "Other morning?"

Biting the inside of the cheek, you try to sound composed. "Yeah, remember? You dropped by around 6am-"

"-and you thought I was Lady Gaga, slammed the door on my face, and went back to bed?" he finished, grinning while finding your eyes again. "You mean that day?"

"Well if you knew what I was talking about why make me recall those mortifying details?" you grumble, leaning back against your seat. "And I thought you were a cat."

"I figured, I always questioned why Jules would ramble on about buying Lady Gaga a new electric litter box until I connected the dots," he confessed making you let out a small chuckle.

Yeah, you clearly remember how upset Jules became when Lady Gaga neglected the expensive box.

"But if you're curious, it wasn't because I wanted to go hiking," he smiled, referring to the current day.

"Then why?"

He paused for a minute, checking his mirrors before switching lanes. "I'm not really sure."

Tilting your head a bit, you express curiosity as you glance back. "I don't understand?"

Laughing lowly, he slightly shook his head. "I did wake up real fucking early that day," he started. "Maybe around 4am? Which sucked because I must've gotten like 3-4 hours of sleep."

"So you decided to wake me up so I could feel your pain?"

"No," he stifled another chuckle. "To plant trees."

Squinting your eyes, you become very confused. What is he talking about? He noticed your puzzlement immediately. "You know, go early in the morning to different areas in the city and help dig and replace old trees to plant new ones."

This whole time you were flipping out, wondering why he randomly came early in the morning just to find out it was because he's a nature boy who wants to help out the community?

It was very sweet of him to be as helpful as he was, but you were a little disappointment it wasn't something more.

"That's why?" you ask and he nods. "And why no warning?"

"Well, I was going to call but I figured all that studying you had done the evening before may have knocked you out early," he confessed.

Yet he still made you wake up early today knowing damn well you were exhausted last night. Strange.

"Why me?" you giggle. "I'm not your typical nature girl, Joon would've been perfect for the job."

Shrugging, he leaned his elbow on his middle console. "I thought about asking him, but to be honest I didn't want to pay for any damages he may have caused."

That was a very accurate insight of what Joon really was, clumsy. The amount of times he accidentally dropped his coffee cups, tripped over wires backstage, and face-planted against glass doors would be too much to count on both your palms.

You're surprised he hasn't broken his back again- but still glad he hasn't. That would really suck.

"But have you thought things over yet?" Pedro glanced your way before looking back forward. "About Canada?"

Stiffing up a bit, you move your eyes to the dashboard. You weren't dreading this conversation, but you didn't want to talk about it.

This was a situation where it was a win but also a loss.

Win as in gaining incredible experience, loss that your parent's wouldn't be pleased, it was in a different country, and you'd be missing out on your social life for almost a year.

"Not really," you admit and sense from the corner of your eyes his shoulders fall. "Still indecisive, as always," you try joking to lighten the mood.

Sending over a tiny grin, he mirrors your same expression, doubtful. His face turns concentrated again, leaning closer to you before he shuts down again, ultimately rejecting whatever idea he had going on.

The rest of the drive back to your place went by fast. The two of you made little talk about each other's life and how school was going for you, but he already knew so much already from past encounters.

Pulling up to the red curb you loathe, you crack a scowl as he only returns a smirk at his doing. "I will personally send my property manager to you so she can threaten you."

"I do love threats," he beamed, watching as you reach for the handle before stopping you by his voice. "-but I had fun this morning, despite our little uh...catastrophe," he chuckled, looking down at his clothes.

"I totally agree," you grin. "Dirt just looks so good on me."

He sniggers lightly before slightly sobering up. "But seriously, think about the offer," he begins, nipping at his lip a bit, not trying to put too much pressure on you. "It'll be good for you, you know- your future."

Sighing, you nod. You knew where he was coming from since he's been doing this for so long, but you were still young and had a lot on your mind.

"I'll think about it," you smile, reaching for the door handle and swiftly getting out, missing the way his smile slowly vanishes.

Taking your usual step back, you send him a farewell wave but he does his habitual goodbyes as he gets out of his car and grins to you. "See you around." Laughing, you walk inside the doors and make your way to the elevators, his followed soft "beautiful" being muffled by the traffic on the streets.

It seemed like both of you were screwed.

taglist: @thesapphirequeen @floralsightings @wrathofcats @avengersheart @fafik7 @chimchimjiminie16 @adriennemichelle98

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #tlou #tlou joel #pascalispunk #joel miller x reader #the last of us #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff #pedropascaledit #fanfiction

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joshuaalbert · 1 year

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Beverly Crusher or Tuvok for the ask game

ironically this took me a while because i was participating in an insane about the crusher family moment so severe i am lightheaded. anyway. i feel like i dont have a ton of meaningful things to say about tuvok yet except "i generally like him i think he has a lot of interesting moments i just wish they didnt regress his characterization gains with such regularity" but i do enjoy him and maybe i will come back to this when i have more coherent thoughts

favorite thing about them

love her confidence tbh like she knows she can do it all and do a great job of it. she has such a wide variety of skills between her actual job and her hobbies and i think that's very fun to see. i also think she's spectacular in the Some Fuckshit Is Happening To The Enterprise mystery episodes like im glad they gave those to her a lot bc it works within her skillset of like. ok this is how i would go about examining a scientific hypothesis this is how i would break the problem down to something manageable so i think that's neat, and i also just think gates mcfadden is very good at carrying the tension of those episodes.

least favorite thing about them

fucking TERMINAL picard disease. remember me is like the prime example of it to me to the point where i literally rewrote part of the script one time but just. so many of her plotlines get taken over to instead be about her thing with picard in ways that don't actually progress anything. and so many of the things that should be about her and wesley end up being about picard and wesley. and like clearly these are importantly dynamics in all their lives but it feels like there's a lot that gets sacrificed in the name of putting picard at the center

also i do think they have a problem with like. not letting her be significantly wrong a lot? i noticed this in like s6 but the plot frequently kind of curves to make sure she's right about things like with both ethics and suspicions they introduce new elements of the plot to be like yeah actually she did not do anything wrong and i just think that holds a character back.

favorite line

"If there's nothing wrong with me, maybe there's something wrong with the universe." queen of believing in yourself. i know this seems counter to what i just said about not letting her be wrong but i liked this one ok. it's about moderation. i love her confidence and i definitely don't want that disrupted in any deeply significant way but i also wish they would let her be wrong every once in a while.

brOTP

she does have really fun dynamics with like most people but hers with troi is good and i like her dynamic w/alyssa ogawa. like yeah alyssa is a subordinate so they're not like Bros bros but beverly clearly cares a lot about her as a person and i think it's neat. also riker if we uhhh. if we don't count. listen if i try to think about the host too long im gonna start setting shit on fire so we're not counting that right now ok we're just counting them in normal episodes.

OTP/nOTP

listen im combining this into one question i think her whole thing with picard is fine and despite what it sounded like earlier i actually kind of enjoy it at points i just hate the way it consumes her whole plotline. if they had just been normal about it it would have been fine.

random headcanon

god ok i know that like all the plays she stages are like Classics and all but i really think they shouldve let her at anything that was fosse-related. i think she would be a great director for that kind of deal.

unpopular opinion

i never know what opinions anyone has on any of these characters unless ive recently seen something that made me mad lmao but. idk sam @sallytwo and i were just talking about this but any attempt to reduce the beverly and wesley dynamic to like "it's good and they're close" or "it's bad and they're distant" is such a doomed endeavor. it's so much more complicated than that like they're close in that they clearly love each other a lot and they don't have a lot of open conflict but they're both deeply repressed people when it comes to expressing meaningful emotions and it definitely takes a really significant toll. again no idea where it falls on the like popular/unpopular opinion scale but it seems like a lot of people don't quite know what to do with that relationship and that's fair because it is. odd especially when you try to figure out what the writers meant for it to be.

favorite picture of them

ngl this is less about her and more about how much utility I get out of it (due to the. i have brain damage.) but it has been very useful so thank you bev

#this is for sure incomprehensible sorry ksjdfhsdkj #ty ty!!!#i do lowkey wanna come back and do tuvok i just haven't real;ly gathered thoughts about him yet yknow #ask game

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thelegendofhino · 9 months

Text

While i do enjoy zelda games and zelda lore and whatnot i have only played 6 zelda games... i know there are a lot more than 6.

Obviously ive played breath of the wild and tears of the kingdom. I dont really know what made me want to play breath of the wild. It was very unlike other games id usually play. Especially since i tend to just play the same few games over and over again... but im glad i did, because i enjoyed it immensely, to the point where i played it twice, my first time being on the wiiu.

I think one of my earliest attempts of playing a zelda game that i can remember was wind waker on the gamecube. I never managed to beat it partly since the console was at my grandmothers house and partly because i got stuck at dragon roost island because something odd had happened with the collapsing stairs that i was unable to progress. I dont know if i had gotten actually softlocked or if it was just a skill issue on my part. I was kinda young at the time. I did end up playing and beating wind waker hd later on. Then i tried to play it again on the gamecube but for some reason i lost interest at the part where i had to find the iron boots to progress.

Ive played four swords adventure way too many times. More times than id care to admit. More times than i can count. For no reason other than it was the only zelda game we had for a while and i just loved playing the gamecube and it was not a very difficult game (there was one time when i was younger i did get stuck on one level for. Possibly hours, driving my parents insane because i just kept going back and forth trying to figure it out) and it was just a fun game. As much as ive played it i absolutely would not consider it my favorite zelda game. Its a fun game but its also boring at the same time. Probably just because ive already played it so many times.

Ive attempted minish cap twice and beat it once. My first attempt i couldnt figure out how to beat vaati, but in my defense, everything else in the game with singular eyes youre supposed to shoot them with arrows. So naturally i never once thought to swing my sword at vaati because he is just eyes. And eyes = arrows. And it just never occured to me to try and hit him normally until i replayed it earlier this year. Other than that, its a fun game, and i love how it looks.

I played links awakening dx. I dont remember much about that game actually. I enjoyed it. It looked cute. I had no means of playing the original. Thats all i have to say about it.

Now. Those are games that ive finished a playthrough of. Ive also attempted twilight princess. Unfortunately i attempted it right after having played botw for a while, so i had to get unused to being able to climb things. And... embarrassingly enough, i got stuck at the very first temple of the game where you get the boomerang. I just couldnt figure out where to go. And being very aware that this was so early in the game and i already got stuck did make me feel discouraged. Not that i thought the game was too hard, but that i shouldnt be struggling as much as i did... nobody was watching me play but i was still embarrassed anyway. So, perhaps in the future ill give it another shot.

Now i am playing ocarina of time and will hopefully play through majoras mask. I have a feeling i may not end up ever beating majoras mask, but... i will at least try.

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mariska · 2 years

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dude. idk how relatable this is as a Digitized Thought cus idk if its something other people see on tv as often as i do or if it doesnt air in other regions etc etc but as someone with graves disease that i've been struggling to maintain serious symptoms of for almost 10 years now alongside other co-morbid diseases and health problems. it is so ridiculously panic inducing to see those psa ads that air at least once per hour and a half some days/nights where it literally just says "if you have graves disease theres a FIFTY PERCENT CHANCE you're going to develop a horrible additional eye disease and your eyeballs are going to feel like sunburned lava for the rest of your miserable life!!! heres a bunch of dramatic slow-mo shots of people with your disease having super bloodshot eyes and exhausted expressions because they have the eye disease and you're probably gonna have it too so count your days!!! also google our site or whatever no we arent going to give you any actual helpful information in this ad we just wanted you to know how much this shit sucks lol. anyways bye"

like!?!?!? i know by life experience and the reactions of people around me over the years that i'm definitely not in the majority of popular opinions when it comes to any psa ads in general (i also struggle with serious panic inducing paranoia often that is almost always triggered by a fear or worry or bad possibility being presented to me without an immediate clear and understandable resolution to that problem) because i am very very afraid of like 90% of them but. it just feels extra cruel to do that on a platform where i as a viewer have so little control over whether or not that very real disease progression that probably will affect me sometime soon in my life is just thrown in my face when i'm trying to do anything with a tv on somewhere. i understand that information about under-researched diseases and auto-immune diseases and symptoms is vital for many people but the reason i understand that is because *i* am one of those people???? i have to think and worry and problem solve about these symptoms every minute of my life and i am not rich, i don't come from a rich family, most of my diseases began progressing into dangerous symptoms when i was a literal child before i had even turned 18 and there is no proper health care system in place in the country i do not have any resources or ability to leave probably ever. like. man. i'm just exhausted of having to see it all the time. with all the personal data the internet steals about me 24/7 you'd think i could maybe get a break from being reminded that i was born a bit too early to get all of the hypothetical treatment i'd need to live a long and fulfilling life with genetic diseases in between bumpers on comedy central at like 9 pm.

anyways. once again i know this is a niche thing to ramble about, apologies for the random block of text out of nowhere, i'm just so stressed about it because it just happened again a little while ago and the painful eye symptoms have always been one of the worst graves disease things i've had to just live with since i was a teenager. i woke up with weird severe pain on my eyeball this morning, not the lid or like a stye or pink eye, like as if someone strained my literal eyeball muscles somehow, and it came back really bad again right when that stupid ad popped up on tv before i took my night medications and it just felt like such a gut punch for no reason. now i'm all paranoid again that It's Happening and im at The Beginning Of The End Of Having Sight In Both Eyes and there was no reason for me to be sent into an anxiety spiral about it.

#long post #it'd be cool i think if i could just exist in peace for however long i have left to do so actually #like i truly literally never want to see a psa ad again in my life. please leave me alone 😔#especially the health related ones that dont even mention a possibility of treatment or assistance or anything #hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh well. anyways

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el-im · 3 years

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a scene from chapter 5 of My Favorite Things <3

#trek #spirk #s'chn t'gai spock #james kirk #star trek tos #i literally. know im annoying #but anyway im saying this counts as progress because im at least... thinking.. about the fic #anyhow. the vulcan on spocks robe is a little modeled after what he had on in tmp but. not enough to mean anything #my art #all art #anyway i think this is the best spock ive drawn in a long time???#UPDATE i just realized i put jim in the wrong fucking uniform because hes supposed to be a cadet here i am idiot

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too-gay-for-marvel · 3 years

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just this once pt.5

a/n: yall. yall im on a roll. and no i will not apologise for anything that happens in this chapter. also, still learning how to do taglists so if it doesn’t work or you weren’t included, send me a message and i’ll try to get it fixed!

Word Count: 4,285

Warnings: canon typical violence, non-explicit mentions of torture, mutant experimentation

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

(pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6.1 pt.6.2 pt.6.3 pt.7 pt.8)

“I think Fury is giving you a sign.”

Natasha looked up from her paperwork to see Maria leaning against the door frame to her office. She herself had just gotten back from a mission, evident in her slightly mused ponytail and gun still on her hip. A very beyond attractive look, if Natasha had to say it.

“What do you mean?” Natasha asked, leaning back in her chair to give her full attention to her fiancee.

“So he didn’t tell you,” Maria said with a nod. She pushed herself off the door frame and moved to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

“I’ll admit that gives me a clue,” Natasha said with a small frown. She didn’t like where this was going.

“He’s sending you on another mission,” Maria replied. “With Y/N.”

“I thought we told him emergencies only,” Natasha mused more to herself than to Maria.

It seemed like Nick was sending the both of you on every mission he could possibly come up with. He needed some information. Then he wanted the layout of a base. Then he wanted some recon on security in another location. All were things that Natasha not only could have done with someone else, but she could have gotten them done on her own.

He seemed to think differently.

“He wants you to leave tomorrow,” Maria continued, bringing Natasha out of her pouting. “Personnel recovery.”

“At least that gives us a few hours together,” Natasha said with a small smile.

“Maybe we can finally get some planning done,” Maria nodded as she stood up. “Maybe a colour scheme?”

“Red and black,” Natasha shot back.

“We’ll argue about it later,” Maria smiled. She walked over and tilted Natasha’s chin up to give her a quick kiss before leaving the office, presumably to get cleaned up.

Natasha looked down at her paperwork for not even five minutes before deciding she was going to rush upstairs and surprise Maria in the shower. She had just started piling the papers up when you walked in, harpoon on hip and soaking wet.

“Did you ask Fury for another mission?” You asked as you plopped into the chair opposite her, water instantly dripping down the sides of the seat.

“No,” Natasha said curtly, hoping she could get you out of her office sooner if she didn’t invite conversation.

“Then why is he sending us together?” You asked. Your fingers started combing through your hair, the webs gathering whatever was stuck. Drops of water splashed onto Natasha’s pristine papers.

“I don’t know,” Natasha said again, turning her lip up when you put a piece of seaweed on her desk.

“I thought you knew everything,” you huffed, staring intently as a shell you had pulled out of your suit sleeve.

“Well clearly not,” Natasha mumbled to herself.

You leaned over to rest your elbows on the desk, your dripping wet hair leaving puddles on the mahogany and her papers. Natasha set her jaw and gave you a look, keeping eye contact. But your eyes gave off that mischievous sparkle, the one that would make any woman swoon. And Natasha’s heart raced.

“Think I can get that in writing?” You asked with a raised brow. “You know, for the next time you act like a know-it-all.”

“Did you just come in here to act like an ass?” Natasha asked as she picked her papers up and started walking out.

“Actually,” you started as you pushed away from the desk and stood up, “I’m here to bring you this.”

You held your open hand out, palm up, and Natasha looked cautiously to see what it was. In the middle of your palm was a whole shell, with a small black pearl in the centre. It looked absolutely stunning, and Natasha reached out to gently take it.

“Why did you bring this to me?” Natasha asked, although she feared she already knew your answer.

“Cheeseburger found the shell the other day,” you shrugged, “and Roger got the pearl out.”

Natasha did her best not to chuckle at the silly names you had given the octopus and otter that usually inhabited your moon pool. Cheeseburger, the octopus, had lost two limbs and had a nasty habit of stealing your cheeseburgers (hence the name), while Roger was an in-progress rehabilitation project. Unfortunately, the three of you were like peas in a pod.

“It’s beautiful,” Natasha mused, her eyes still glued to the pearl. “But I can’t take this home to my fiancee.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. The space between the both of you increased as you visibly took a step back, and Natasha missed the closeness. Things had seemed normal only a moment ago, and now she could feel you closing yourself off to her, going cold once again.

“Then give it to Maria,” you shrugged. “Get some brownie points before going off on another mission with her favourite person.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Natasha shot back. “I just don’t want to waste your gift.”

“It was just cluttering up my space,” you replied, voice cold.

“Give it to Yelena,” Natasha said softly, holding the shell and pearl back out for you to take. “She would love it.”

“Yelena,” you huffed with a small smile. A sad smile. You grabbed the shell from her hand rather roughly, causing Natasha to flinch. “Thanks for the input.”

“Y/N,” Natasha started, but you were already walking away in the opposite direction, head high and feet dragging.

Natasha sighed and started her own way back to her floor. She wanted Maria to distract her. From you.

———

“What’s our objective again?” You shouted from the back of the quinjet.

“Personnel recovery,” Yelena answered. “Some scientist wanted out of AIM.”

“Why is that my responsibility?” You continued. Your boots echoed off the floor and you popped your head in between Yelena’s and Natasha’s chairs.

“Because something smelled-”

“Don’t,” Natasha interrupted.

“-fishy,” Yelena finished anyway, and both you and Natasha groaned as she just laughed at herself.

“I’m not paid enough for this,” Natasha mumbled to herself before turning her head and looking out the windows.

“I’ll throttle you,” you said as you lightly slapped Yelena upside the head.

“Listen,” she tried to say around another round of giggles, “if Fury ever told me his plans, I wouldn’t be stuck here with you two.”

“Well why don’t you find out? I wanna know why he’s sending me on this mission.”

“I already told you, I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you know? Surely you must have some kind of-”

“Can you both shut up?” Natasha shouted. The both of you grew silent immediately, and Natasha finally let out a breath and tried to rub her growing migraine away.

“Should’ve just sent Nat,” you grumbled. “She’s grumpy enough to scare everyone away all on her own.”

Yelena snorted, and when Natasha shot a look her way, she tried her best to look out the window. You, on the other hand, held up to her challenge and met her eyes. That ridiculous smirk refused to disappear, and Natasha wanted so desperately to wipe it off your face. But instead she just turned back around and looked out the window once again.

The rest of the trip was silent, only the occasional update being spoken aloud. Yelena managed to drop the both of you off and stayed in the jet, more than ready for when you both got back and could get back to the Tower for a well-deserved weekend.

It was a quick jog to the location, with tents and cages set up all around the landing port. The building was a few stories tall, but well fortified with guards around every corner. The majority of cages were empty, but every now and then you could hear a bear, a dog, a human.

“I thought these guys were scientists,” you whispered from where you were crouched beside Natasha.

“They are,” Natasha nodded.

“Must be pretty paranoid then,” you continued.

“You would be too if your work relied on illegal mutant experimentation,” Natasha clarified. You didn’t say anything else, but she could see your knuckles going pale.

“Let’s get our man and go,” you practically growled. “Before I kill them all.”

Natasha knew you weren’t joking.

You both went in opposite directions, you heading to the back door and Natasha heading to the side. There was no guaranteeing that the scientist was even inside at all, but that was the easiest place to check. There was too much vulnerability outside and Natasha wasn’t going to risk getting caught and failing another mission.

“How are we supposed to find one nerd in a facility full of nerds?” You asked over the intercoms, and Natasha assumed you had made it into the building.

“Be nice,” Natasha whispered, “not all scientists are nerds.”

“Bruce and Tony are,” you replied. Natasha pulled herself against a wall when she heard voices. “Everyone here is.”

“Hush,” Natasha whispered. You remained silent as Natasha listened to footsteps getting closer, and then turning into the opposite direction. She let out a quiet breath.

“Do we really want to help someone who’s torturing mutants?” You asked again, a barely contained anger in your voice.

Natasha rounded another corner, trying to come up with an answer for you. You weren’t wrong; she didn’t like the idea either. Why save the scientist when you could save the people instead? But Fury wanted him, and there had to be a reason for it. The location was known, so someone could always come back to save them another day.

“Nick will send us back another day,” Natasha finally said out loud. You huffed on the other end of the comms.

You both continued through the facility, methodically clearing rooms until finally you indicated you had found him. Some wiry man with broken glasses, according to your description. Natasha gave confirmation and headed to the meet up point, somewhere on the second floor. Once Natasha was about to round the corner to the location, she could hear your voice carrying through the halls.

“You’re lucky I don’t wring your neck myself.”

“What’s the problem?” Natasha asked as soon as she saw you.

You were right. The man was wiry and nerdy, something you would expect from a mad scientist in a comic book. White tape was wrapped around the nose piece of his glasses in stereotypical fashion and he was hunched over like the world was resting on his shoulders.

No surprise, considering you were hovering nearly a foot over him.

“He called me an animal,” you seethed, your hands visibly shaking with the desire to have them around the man’s neck.

“Look at your arms and neck, what else could you be?” He asked in a gruff New Jersey accent.

“You want an animal? I’ll show you an-”

“That’s enough,” Natasha demanded. She stepped in between the both of you and pushed you away, not even bothering to get near the man.

“If he has to go with us, then so does one of the mutants,” you said, leaving no room for argument in your voice.

“We can’t risk it, we’re leaving them here,” Natasha said quickly. The hair on the back of her neck was starting to stand up and her stomach felt like it was dropping.

“I’m not leaving them and taking that,” you said through clenched teeth while pointing at the scientist.

“You’re going to risk my life for one of them?” He asked, his face drawn in disgust at the mere thought that his life was equal to a mutant’s. Natasha wanted to strangle him.

“We will come back for them another day,” Natasha said again, but you didn’t look convinced.

“I’m not leaving without them, so you’re gonna have to wait,” you shot back.

Voices could be heard in the stairwell a few halls away.

“And I’m not risking another mission,” Natasha argued, walking closer to you and forcing you to step backward to keep your space.

“If you think I’m taking that and leaving one of those kids then you’re-”

Click.

The both of you froze, your eyes boring into Natasha’s. A heavy silence fell upon the both of you, so thick Natasha struggled to draw breath. Her heart was pounding in her ears and that feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach returned.

And then your eyes left hers, trailing down to the too-tight cuffs that were now keeping you chained to the pipes against the wall. They weren’t the usual police handcuffs, but the kind that they had used on Loki after the invasion of New York.

You weren’t getting out of them.

“Natasha,” you started, your eyes moving back to meet hers.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha whispered. She took one heavy step back, never taking her eyes off of you.

“Unlock them,” you continued. Your chest was starting to rise and fall slightly faster.

“Someone will come for you,” Natasha said again with a slight nod.

Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

“Get back here, Romanoff,” you said as Natasha started leading the scientist down the hall.

Away from you.

She didn’t answer. She just felt her leaden boots take step after step, leading her further away from where you were chained. When she didn’t answer, she heard the sound of metal pulling against metal and your grunts and groans as you tried to yank the cuffs off.

“You can’t leave me here!” You shouted, your voice echoing down the hall after Natasha had turned the final corner.

She heard other voices coming from the same direction as yours, quickly followed by shouting and the solid thuds of blows being landed.

“Natalia!” You shouted again once Natasha had opened the door to lead the scientist out.

Only moments after the door shut, Natasha heard your scream. A scream of anger and frustration, a scream that reached down Natasha’s throat and ripped her heart out. The prick of tears in her eyes left a sinking feeling in her gut, left her feeling empty and a broken shell.

But she had a mission. And she was going to complete it.

She shoved the scientist in the direction of the quinjet and didn’t look back. Ignoring the whining and complaining coming from the man and eventually just throwing him into the back of the quinjet, ignoring the way Yelena jumped at the sudden noise.

“Where’s Y/N?” Yelena asked, moving her head around, trying to see if you were close behind.

“Get us in the air,” Natasha ordered. Tears pricked her eyes once again.

“Are they coming?” Yelena asked again, ignoring Natasha’s order.

“I said get us in the air, now.”

Yelena gave Natasha a look that sent a shiver down her spine, but turned around and got the jet in the air nonetheless. The scientist pulled himself into the seat next to Natasha. He seemed much more relaxed, and Natasha couldn’t blame him. He probably didn’t realise just how much had been risked to get him back to SHIELD.

“You made the right choice,” he said after some unbearable silence. Natasha turned to look at him, her brows pulled together.

“Excuse me?”

“You made the right choice,” he said again with an enthusiastic nod. “You never know what those animals might do-”

He was cut off with a choked gasp as Natasha slammed her elbow into his face, and he quickly lost consciousness.

“Just shut up,” she mumbled to herself, knowing he couldn’t hear her.

It didn’t make her feel any better.

———

It was six weeks before the party had been dispatched to get you back. The party had consisted of Natasha, Yelena, and Wanda, and there was going to be nothing extra. They were going to get you out and get back to SHIELD, no side missions, no stops, no questions.

Maybe it just so happened that the only way to get you was to burn the facility to the ground and get the rest of the mutants out. Maybe they had called for a second quinjet to arrive to make sure everyone was able to get out safely.

Yelena and Wanda were tasked with getting everyone on the jets and eliminating the few soldiers remaining while Natasha had scoured the facility top to bottom to find you. There was a large portion of the basement that Natasha had found, filled with surgical equipment and things that would have been enough to give anyone nightmares.

And you were there, nude, in a too-small empty glass tank with a chain around your ankle. There were rips and tears in the thin membranes between your spines, and a dark black mark on your left shoulder blade. From her angle, it looked like some kind of gunk was stuck in your gills. You were curled up into a fetal position and kept your eyes glued to the ground directly in front of you.

“Y/N,” Natasha said, her gun still drawn but lowered.

“I should thank you, Miss Romanoff,” a voice called, and Natasha spun with gun raised to find a scientist walk forward, standing near a panel by your tank. “You gave me my greatest obsession.”

“How about you just let them out and I don’t kill you,” Natasha shrugged.

“I’ve learned a lot from our little friend,” he continued, ignoring her. “And you’re in time to see the results of something I’ve been working on.”

“Let them go,” Natasha said again. She cocked the gun, but the man laughed.

“I hear drowning is a horrible way to die,” he said, still ignoring her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Natasha saw you raise your head and look at her. The dark spots under your eyes were beyond evident, sticking out against the sickened colour of your skin. There was no emotion in your eyes, not even a silent plea for help.

You looked like you had already accepted death.

“How long do you think a sea creature can hold its breath underwater before it needs to breathe?” He asked, his fingers typing against the panel.

“Don’t,” Natasha shouted, her trigger finger pulling instinctively and burying a bullet into the man’s chest. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Water started filling your tank, and you stood up to get your head as tall as it could get. Natasha nodded at you once, and you covered your head as she fired shot after shot at the tank. But there wasn’t even a dent, nothing to indicate that the tank could be broken.

“What do I do?” Natasha asked as she ran up to the tank, watching the water slowly rise to your ankles.

You didn’t speak, didn’t open your mouth, instead pointing as best you could to a discrete pipe against the opposite wall. Natasha looked at it and followed the direction until she saw a lone wheel connected to the wall. A wheel that could control the water flow.

“Stay here,” Natasha told you as she ran off, grimacing to herself. It wasn’t like you had anywhere to go.

She grabbed the wheel and pulled, but it didn’t budge. It felt like she was trying to pull a quinjet with her bare hands; an impossible task in and of itself. Her eyes trailed over to see the water had reached your waist. There had to be something else she could get, something to help.

The thud of your hands on the glass made her turn, and you were pointing in another direction. Her eyes followed, but there wasn’t anything she could see that would immediately-

A pipe.

Natasha sprinted to grab it from the table, nearly dropping it in her haste to get back to the wheel. The water was up to your neck, and Natasha could already see that your gills weren’t filtering anything. They stayed terribly still, and Natasha had to drag her feet to get back to the wheel.

She stuck the pipe into the empty spaces of the wheel and pulled, yelling in frustration until it finally moved. She continued pulling until she heard the flow of water stop, and a tired smile etched itself onto her lips as she turned back around to see you.

But the water was over your head, and now she was leaving you to drown.

She couldn’t break the glass; the water was off and you were still drowning. Your eyes were wide, and the fear of the situation finally made its way onto your face as you curled in on yourself and started pulling at the chain around your ankle, air bubbles escaping from your nose at a rapid rate.

Natasha got an idea. She didn’t hesitate as she started pushing the pipe, the flow of water rushing back. Only this time, she didn’t stop until the pipes rattled with the flow, barely able to contain the volume inside. She pushed until the pipe stuck, and she turned and ran back to the tank.

Your eyes were closing, the air bubbles almost nonexistent, your struggle against the chain ending. Natasha started banging on the glass, trying to keep you awake, but you didn’t move, instead just floating, and Natasha felt her heart sink.

The glass creaked under her fingers. Natasha’s eyes shot open and she watched the glass, noting the single crack that started to web across the entirety of the tank. She barely had time to step aside as the glass shattered, water shooting out and leaving you to drop to the ground.

When you didn’t move, Natasha jumped forward, dropping to the ground and immediately starting CPR. She could feel a rib break, maybe two, but she didn’t stop. She wasn’t going to stop until you could breathe. You just needed to fucking breathe-

Your body shuddered as you choked, coughing up water before your eyes shot open. Natasha felt herself let out a shaky breath, but she didn’t let herself rest. She grabbed her gun and shot where the chain was connected to the floor, listening to it break before grabbing you and pulling you up.

“You need to lose some weight,” Natasha groaned as you leaned on her side, your feet barely moving.

You didn’t say a word the whole trip out of the facility. Just managed to drag yourself out, eventually walking more on your own when you neared the quinjet. Yelena ran up to the both of you and got on your other side, sharing a look with Natasha.

“I’ve got it,” Yelena said in a tone that told Natasha to let go and give her some space.

Natasha did, watching as Yelena finished dragging you to the quinjet and putting you in a seat before wrapping a blanket around your naked form. Your eyes fell back to the ground when Yelena finally got the jet in the air, and you refused to look at anyone when you got back to the Tower, leaving Natasha without a second thought.

———

Natasha was sitting at the bar on the common floor, picking apart her food. She had tried to see you multiple times over the past two weeks, only to be turned away by doctors or Yelena. There was something wrong, but Natasha couldn’t find out because no one would let her.

The ding of the elevator had her turning her head, not necessarily eager but casually curious on who had appeared. To her surprise, Yelena walked out with a McDonald’s bag in hand, some drink in the other. She didn’t look happy, but Natasha could’ve expected that.

After all, Yelena hadn’t forgiven her.

“How are they?” Natasha asked.

“Alive, no thanks to you,” Yelena shot back. But she had stopped and was talking back; that was an improvement from the past two weeks.

“I had a mission,” Natasha said, but her voice was small, weak.

“They were part of that mission,” Yelena answered.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha said quietly. She said it to assuage her own guilt. It didn’t work.

“You’re stringing them along,” Yelena said, her voice taking a different tone that Natasha hadn’t been expecting. “Just marry Maria already and end the suffering.”

“I’m not stringing them along,” Natasha defended.

But she knew she was wrong. Yelena was right. And Natasha wasn’t going to stop because what would her life be without you? How could she go about her day-to-day life if she knew you weren’t going to be there in some fashion? Maybe she was in love with Maria and was going to marry her, but that didn’t mean she wanted to throw you away.

“Just be gentle,” Yelena said with a sigh. “Everyone has feelings at stake.”

“And you?” Natasha asked, causing Yelena to freeze. “What feelings do you have at stake?”

A small, sad smile made its way onto her face.

“Desire,” Yelena shrugged, but just like that her demeanour changed. “Y/N said I couldn’t eat before them, and I very much desire this McChicken.”

“You’re disgusting,” Natasha chuckled.

“And this McFlurry. You know the good stuff,” Yelena teased again, causing the both of them to laugh.

“Then go on,” Natasha motioned toward where she assumed you were waiting. “I’d hate for the two of you to starve.”

Yelena gave her a smile, one like the good old days, and continued her walk. She stopped in the doorway and turned around.

“Oh, Fury wanted me to tell you something.” Natasha gave her a look for her to continue. “You and Y/N are going undercover. As a couple.” With that, Yelena continued off, leaving Natasha to deal with the news.

Why couldn’t things ever be easy?

Taglist: @wickedmuses @m-zne237 @noodlybees @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @gottacamz @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday @santasbitch @when-wolves-howl @madamevirgo @hopingforromanoff

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #my writing

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cupajoscafe · 2 years

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Three Strikes, You're Out | Yakuza!AU Shikamaru Nara x OC

HELLO FRIENDS I AM SO EXCITED TO POST ANOTHER FIC FOR YOU I HAVE BEEN WRITING THIS ON AND OFF SINCE SEPTEMBER 2021 AND I FINALLY FINISHED IT LAST NIGHT AAAAAAAAA i'm obsessed with this au okay???? i know it says yakuza but this is kind of a mix between the japanese yakuza and the american/italian mafia, because typically women didn't play prominent roles in the yakuza so i kind of went a little off script with that. i have been,,,,obsessed with this AU since i started thinking about it and my best friend and i have been brainstorming ideas!! this fic actually stems from a lot of the headcanoning we've done together!!! the opening scene is based on a mini comic i drew while we were talking together and if yall want i can post that here too 👀👀👀 i just,,,i love this au so much LMFAO ANYWAYS. I AM. SO EXCITED SO IM GONNA SHUT UP AND GET TO POSTING AHAHAHAHAH I HOPE YALL LIKE IT 💜💜💜 Tagging @whatelsecouldgowrong because I know she's been waiting for this HAHAHHAHH

Pairings: Shikamaru Nara x OC

Word Count: 9.2k

Genre: Yakuza!AU, Smut

Warnings: None

Contents: 18+ MINORS DNI. Oral (m&f receiving), face fucking, dirty talk, creampie. Shikamaru is kind of a dick in this AU because I say so. Entirely self indulgent. No editing, we die like women.

Summary: Shikamaru gets transferred to Naruto's gang, and his right hand woman doesn't take too kindly to their new addition.

The first strike was their very first face to face meeting. He was subjected to a trade; moving from Haruki Yukimura's gang to Naruto Uzumaki's, trading brains for brawn. Haruki needed strength, and Naruto needed intellect. To solidify their relationship in public, he would send over his bodyguard Rock Lee, and she would send over her financial advisor Shikamaru Nara. From the moment she knew about the trade, Yuuna was less than thrilled. She thought it was a stupid idea. They were already a close syndicate, they didn't need to lose man power and have a total stranger join their ranks. She thought it was dangerous and would only cause problems within their gang.

When the trade happened, both gangs were present. Naruto had sent Lee over, and Haruki had sent Shikamaru over.

"To think I'm gonna have to start working with a whole new gang," He groaned, dragging his feet along the hardwood floor of Naruto's office towards him. He reached a hand up to scratch at the back of his head. "Damn, this is gonna be such a drag."

Yuuna's eyebrow twitched. In an instant, she hopped down from her place sitting on the edge of Naruto's desk and she stood in front of Shikamaru so he couldn't progress any further. He stopped in front of her and glared down at the brunette.

"Do you need somethin', Princess?" He inquired, raising an annoyed eyebrow. "'Cause if not, you should get the hell outta my way."

With a glare, she straightened her back and stared up into his narrow mocha eyes.

"It's in your best interest to play nice, Mr. Nara. I know more about you than you think I do." She started, her voice low. "You try and pull any funny business, and I'll have your name, birthday, address, and social security number plastered over every rival gang's territory, you understand me?!"

What started as a low growl in her tone escalated to a firm raising of her voice by the time she finished. Naruto swallowed nervously, shifting slightly so he could move to de-escalate the situation if he needed to. Haruki glared at the woman that threatened her former right hand. She was not impressed. She understood where Yuuna was coming from and appreciated how fiercely loyal she was, but she wouldn't tolerate threats.

Shikamaru, on the other hand, found it intriguing to say the least. Oh, how amusing this little mouse was. He took a drag from his cigarette and pulled it from his lips, then exhaled a cloud of smoke against her face. She coughed and brought her hands up to her face to fan the smoke out of her eyes. He simply smiled at her and leaned in close, pressing his cheek to hers and whispered,

"Is it really a smart idea to be threatening the guy who handles your paycheck?"

The shit eating grin on his face when he pulled back and took a drag from his cigarette made her blood boil.

"C-Cocky bastard--!!" She exclaimed, face hot from his husky voice in her ear, moving to lunge forward to smack that sneer right off of his face.

"Yuuna!!" She heard from behind her. She stopped in her tracks and turned around to see Naruto glaring at her from his desk. "That's enough. Back off."

She gritted her teeth and reluctantly stepped back, looking up at the scarred face that stood in front of her. The smirk that rested on his lips ignited a rage filled flame in her body.

"You heard the man." He said. The mocking tone in his voice nearly made her jump at him again. "Back off, sweetheart."

He took another drag of his cigarette and walked past her, being sure to flash her another condescending smirk as he did so. She stood there and grimaced, her long nails digging into the meat of her palm as she balled her hands into fists.

"I'm sorry about her, Mr. Nara, Miss Yukimura." Naruto stood up from his regal desk chair and bowed an apology to the syndicate head and her former right hand. "I'll be having a very thorough discussion with Miss Misaki when we're done here."

Haruki hesitated for a moment before she spoke. "I think it's best you let her, and anyone else who feels similarly, know that you and I have been working together for quite some time now." She explained, taking a slow step forward towards him. "This is just our first public move."

As she progressed forward, she stopped when she found herself beside the brunette.

"All that dirt you have on him, I also have on you." She whispered firmly, almost menacingly. "Keep that in mind when you decide to smear his info across the city."

Haruki shifted to look at the woman next to her and smirked, then continued on her path towards greeting Naruto with a handshake. Yuuna swallowed and let out a shaky breath as soon as the attention had been shifted from her to the syndicate heads.

"Anyways, before we were so rudely interrupted, I'm sure you'll find Shikamaru to be a valuable asset to your gang." Haruki announced as she walked over to his desk. "His intellect and financial advisory are unrivaled."

Naruto leaned over his desk to extend his scarred right hand out to the smaller woman in front of him. Haruki gave it a firm shake.

"He's been my right hand since day one." She explained. "You'd do well to remember to treat him with the utmost respect."

"Of course. We'll welcome him with open arms." He smiled, placing his left hand over Haruki's as they shook. "I'll be sure that everyone here sees to that."

He shifted his attention to the man beside him and gave a friendly smile.

"Good to have you, Mr. Nara." He extended his hand out to shake. "I'm sure you'll be a valuable asset to us."

Shikamaru paused for a moment and took another drag from his cigarette before giving Naruto's hand a firm shake.

"Getting used to all these new people is gonna be such a pain," He sighed. He shifted his gaze from Naruto over to Yuuna, who was glaring at him from the middle of the room. He couldn't help the smirk that pulled at his lips. "But I'm sure we'll eventually get along just fine."

---

The second strike was when she attempted to expose him for espionage. Since day one, she hadn't been convinced he was a loyal member of their group. So she took it upon herself to keep an eye on Shikamaru in case he tried to sabotage Naruto's position of power. Yuuna had noticed that a few times a week, once Shikamaru was finished with his duties with Naruto, he would take a drive to meet up with Haruki and have dinner. She saw no reason for them to be having these meetings and was convinced that he was relaying top secret information about their business doings to his former employer. With a confident smirk, she carefully made her way back to Naruto's office in a taxi to relay her findings to the boss she respected so much.

What she hadn't expected was to see Shikamaru there when she burst through the doors.

"Hey, Naruto!! I've got somethin' to tell you--" She exclaimed, heels clacking to a dead stop on the ground as she laid eyes on the coal haired advisor standing next to her boss.

"Yuuna. I thought I told you to head home for the night." He inquired, turning his attention from Shikamaru to the woman in front of him. "What's so important you came rushing back here so late at night?"

She stood there gritting her teeth, eyes wide and staring daggers into Shikamaru's skull. Regaining her composure, she turned her attention to the blond man before her.

"Sir, I need you to listen to me." She demanded, stepping forward until she was at the edge of his desk. "Mr. Nara isn't the loyal advisor you think he is."

"What?" Naruto asked, furrowing his brow. Shikamaru scoffed and took a drag from his cigarette.

"I haven't liked him since day fucking one. He's always given me a bad feeling, so I've been watching him carefully to make sure he's not up to anything." She explained, pressing her palms flat on his desk as she leaned forward to address him. "He's been having secret meetings with Miss Yukimura three times a week to discuss our affairs with her. That's top secret information, sir. He's been divulging classified information to your so-called 'colleague'."

She pulled back from his desk and stood up straight, shifting her gaze over to the spy in question and flashing him a triumphant smirk. It faded almost as soon as it came on when she realized that he looked cool as a cucumber and was smirking right back at her.

"Yuuna…" Naruto sighed, scratching the stubble on his cheek. "I know about the meetings."

She whipped her head around to look over at Naruto and her eyes almost popped out of her skull.

"S-Sir…?!"

"They were my idea." He explained, exhaling and sitting down in his chair. He laced his fingers together and looked up at her from his seat. "I thought it would be better if our two syndicates were as transparent as possible with one another, so I arranged for Shikamaru and Haruki to meet and discuss our standings. They strategize about things that will work well with the businesses we already have while also not stealing businesses from her. That way we don't step on each other's toes. He's the go-between from Haruki to me."

She stood there dumbfounded, staring at Naruto as if she'd seen a ghost.

"...So he hasn't been divulging classified information in those meetings then." She squeaked, feeling her face begin to burn up from a mixture of shame and embarrassment.

"No, he hasn't." Naruto leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "They're both very smart individuals and it's clear they've been nothing but honest with us about their affairs."

She balled her hands into fists, long painted nails digging into the meat of her palms. She shifted uncomfortably in place, heels scraping against the hardwood floor of his office. She grimaced and bit her lip, trembling ever so slightly with agitation. A chuckle erupted from next to her and she shifted her emerald eyes to see Shikamaru's mocha hues staring back at her, glistening with delight as a maniacal grin stretched across his lips. He took a long, almost exaggerated drag of his cigarette, and blew the smoke out of the side of his mouth with a chuckle.

"Well. That's oh-for-two." He sneered, giving her a teasing smirk as he flicked the ashes from his smoke into the ashtray on the desk. "I wonder if Naruto's a baseball kind of guy."

He replaced the cigarette between his lips and began to exit the office at a lazy pace, dragging his feet across the floor with his hands in his trouser pockets. As he did so, he sang quietly under his breath but made sure he was loud enough for Yuuna to hear as he passed her.

"'Cause it's one, two, three strikes you're out at the old ball game."

Without saying anything more he opened the door and walked out of the office, then shut the door behind him. Her blood boiling from the utter humiliation she'd just put herself through, Yuuna let out a frustrated wail and brought her hands up to her head, pulling her hair from her skull.

"That cocky motherfucker!!" She squawked. She ran her hands through her hair and took a moment to collect herself before turning to Naruto, averting his gaze but straightening up to address him. With a deep sigh through her nose, she closed her eyes then finally met his eyes. "...I'm sorry, sir. I made an ass of myself again."

Naruto sighed and scratched the back of his head.

"What the hell am I gonna do with you?" He mumbled, pulling his arm from his neck to drum his fingers along the wood of his desk top.

"I just--..." She started, trailing off after a moment. With another sigh, she closed her eyes and continued. "...I just don't want all of your hard work to be ruined, Naruto. You've built something amazing here and I don't want anyone taking that away from you."

He paused, listening to her words before he spoke. He leaned back in his chair, recalling what Haruki had told him in private on the night of the trade.

That one is fiercely loyal. You'd better be treating her well.

He drummed his fingers against the wood again and sighed, then then laced his fingers together and looked up at her with furrowed brows and a stern expression.

"Well...nothing really came out of those accusations. And I know your intentions were good." He spoke, his features softening. "So I suppose this time you're off the hook."

She let out the breath that she was holding and sighed with relief. "Thank you, sir. I'll be more careful going forward."

He smiled at her, taking her word. Yuuna was a trustworthy member of his gang, and he knew that if she said she was going to do something, she would absolutely do it. When the air of tension dissipated from between them, his smile grew wider and he chuckled, narrowing his eyes and squinting over at his subordinate.

"Soooo, you and Mr. Nara seem to be getting along well."

She froze in place and her body stiffened, her face flushing red; though this time it wasn't from embarrassment. With a twitch of her eyebrow, she scoffed and whipped around to the side so he couldn't see her blushing.

"Like hell we are." She snapped at him, digging her nails into the flesh of her forearms as she crossed them over her chest. "He's a fucking asshole and the less I get to work with him the better."

Naruto giggled, leaving forward in his chair and resting his chin on top of the back of his hands as they held his head up.

"Oh really?" He prodded, tilting his head to the side. "'Cause that's not what your red-ass face is saying right now."

---

Sometime in between the first two strikes, Shikamaru had found himself in an unfortunate situation. As it turned out, at some point he had caught feelings for her. He wasn't sure if it was the time she asked for a smoke from him when he knew she'd never smoked in her life, or if it was the time he came back to the office plastered after a meeting and she ended up taking care of him throughout the night, or if it was when she was being followed by some delinquents and she called him to help her out and then proceeded to walk her home every day so they wouldn't bother her again. Would he act on those feelings he ended up with? No, of course not. She hated him, after all. At least that's what she was trying to make him think; he could see through her act and knew it was all for show, but he played along for her sake. He recognized the tension between them when they were alone together and it only made it worse. He was constantly pushing those feelings back; he had a job to do as Naruto's right hand, and no woman, no matter how attractive or how confident, was going to stop him from that.

But he was waiting. Waiting for Yuuna to slip up again, to accuse him of a lie, or to corner him with "proof" that he was planning something again. Because this time, he wasn't letting her off the hook. This time, it would be her third strike.

He had offered to stay at the office late tonight, going through paperwork and documents to sort out what needed to be discarded and what needed to be transferred to receipts. He sat back in Naruto's desk chair and flicked the ashes from his cigarette into the ashtray on the desk, sighing deeply and scratching the top of his head.

"Man, maybe I should have gone home when he offered, this is such a drag." He grumbled to himself. He pushed the chair back and stood up, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. He crossed them over his chest as he looked down at the paperwork scattered around the desk. "Maybe I'll call it for the night."

He began to pull all the papers together and replace them in the file folders they were organized in, save for one sheet that he needed to take home to look over more. He sighed as he pulled open the filing cabinet beside the desk, replacing the folders to the alphabetical places they belonged.

Suddenly, there was a click of the doorknob turning. He hadn't been expecting anyone to still be in the office so late, so the sudden noise made him jump a little as he whipped his head up to look at the door. And he was absolutely delighted when he saw who entered the room.

"Hey, Naruto? Sorry, I know it's late, but I came to ask you someth--"

Yuuna stopped dead in her tracks when she entered the office and saw Shikamaru behind her boss's desk. Her gaze flicked to the opened filing cabinet and the loose sheet of paper on the desk.

"You sneaky little fucker." She growled, eyes narrow and glaring daggers into his skull. "I should have fucking known you would try and pull some shit like this while he's gone, you god damn snake!!"

He simply looked at her with a smirk on his face. She was all bark and no bite. Despite all of her threats, she'd never once acted upon them. Shikamaru knew from the get-go the type of person Yuuna was, and he wasn't scared of her. It was quite the opposite, actually. He was very fond of the brunette. Fond enough, in fact, that she was the center of his thoughts. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about her. When he wasn't focused on work or in a meeting with Naruto or Haruki, she was all he could think about. The way she walked with a confident stride in her step. The way her emerald eyes caught the light and glimmered. The way her fingers drummed against the hardwood of the meeting table as she reviewed important documents.

But he found himself most often thinking about her lips. How the pink hue of her lipstick glistened and drew him in. How cute they looked when she was pouting or claiming she was upset at him. He oftentimes wondered just what would happen if he kissed those pretty, pouty, pink lips of hers. What would they taste like? What would it feel like to pull her lower lip between his teeth as he ran his hands along her bare skin? How would it feel to have those soft lips of hers wrapped around his cock, tears spilling from her eyes in a blissful expression as she choked on his girth?

That last thought rotted through his brain nearly every time he looked at her. Every time her tongue grazed over her lips absently in thought, he felt the blood rush between his thighs and he had to force himself to get a grip and cool down. But now...

Now it was just the two of them, and the tension in the air was palpable. He knew it, and he knew she knew it too. That sooner or later, something was going to happen. And oh, did he ever hope that something was going to happen tonight.

He stared at the woman on the opposite end of the room with a smirk on his face. He looked down at the document on the table and took it into his hands. He folded the paper into a neat little rectangle and opened his blazer, placing the document into the inside pocket. He returned his mocha hues to meet her glare, reaching down and shutting the filing cabinet. At a snail's pace, he began to make his way around the desk and walk over to her.

"What the fuck is your problem, huh?!" She shouted, watching as he took his sweet time. "You gonna say something or what?!"

Shikamaru stopped to reach into his pocket and pull out a new cigarette. He placed it between his lips and plucked out his lighter, igniting the end and replacing the metal back into his trousers. He took a deep inhale and then pulled the cigarette from his lips, exhaling the smoke with a smug grin.

"Naruto needed to go home and get some rest. I offered to stay. He gave me a list of things that needed to get done tonight." He stated, shifting his gaze back and forth between her eyes. "I'm just doing what I was told to do."

"Bullshit." She accused, standing her ground and staying firm. She watched as he fiddled around in his pocket to produce a scrap piece of paper that indeed did have a list of to-dos scribbled on it in Naruto's handwriting. He smirked and stuffed it back into his pants and watched as she became increasingly more antsy, shifting slightly in place, but still remaining firm.

"I gotta say," He started, taking another long drag from his cigarette. "I'm surprised you still have it in you to keep going with this. I mean, come on, I've proven I'm a decent guy time and time again and you're still suspicious? This whole thing is starting to turn into such a drag."

Yuuna scoffed and straightened up, looking directly into his eyes and running her tongue along her upper lip. He watched as the muscle slid along her flesh, feeling the blood rush to his stiffening erection. Shikamaru stifled a low groan with a drag of his cigarette as he kept his eyes fixated on her lips.

"I'll keep looking." She griped, furrowing her brows and frowning. "I don't care how fucking long it takes. I will get you."

His eye twitched minutely and he flicked the ashes off the end of his smoke, holding it between his right index and middle fingers. He strutted towards her with a smirk, backing her up against the door as he caged her in with his left hand. He leaned in close, face mere centimeters from hers, and he chuckled.

"Listen here, lapdog," He muttered, his voice low and husky, lips stretched into a sly smile. It was almost threatening. "Search all you want. You won't find any dirt on me. I'm squeaky clean."

She could feel her heart beating in her throat and her breathing quickened, shifting her gaze back and forth between his eyes. She pressed her back up against the door, dragging her nails against the wood as she glared up at him. The tension was unbearable. With a scowl, she suddenly lifted a hand up to his head to grasp at his hair, loosening it from its confines a little as she pulled his head to the side. The sudden motion caught him off guard and he winced at the pain, but let out a low, hungry groan at the stinging sensation. He looked down at her and panted.

"Fuck you, Nara." She hissed, baring her teeth but pushing her back off of the door to press her chest lightly against his. He pulled his hand down from its spot above her head on the wood, then mirrored her movement, grabbing a fistful of her hair and snapping her head back. She let out a moan at the abrupt movement, loosening her grip on his hair and falling back against the door again. She looked up at him through heavy lashes as her breathing became labored.

"Strike three, doll-face." He muttered, then surged forward to capture her lips in a heated kiss. She returned it instantly, opening her mouth to allow his tongue to roam around as it pleased. He pressed his body up against her, lifting his right arm up to rest against the door and pinning her against it. He began to rut his hips forward against hers, groaning into her mouth as he felt his cock twitch beneath his trousers.

Yuuna pulled her hand from his hair and ran it down his neck until it rested against his chest, where she began to shift it under his blazer to slip it off. He pulled back from her lips for just a moment, placing his cigarette between his own and shucking his jacket off of his shoulders. He let it fall to the ground, then pulled the cigarette from his lips and exhaled the smoke. He dove forward again to capture her in another fiery kiss, fiddling with his belt as he let his tongue explore her mouth. She let out a soft moan as she felt him grind his throbbing cock against her, finally free from its confines. She pulled back to catch her breath, resting her head against the wooden door as she gasped for air. Shikamaru took the opportunity to pull her head to the side, exposing her neck, and placed open mouth kisses along the skin. He licked at her flesh, sucking it until he left a mark, then moved along to an empty space and did the same thing there until her neck was covered in bruises. She let out a string of quiet moans as he did so, reaching her hand down to curl her fingers around his girth, stroking him in a steady rhythm. He groaned against her skin, releasing his grip on her hair to slip his fingers under her dress and drag them over her clothed slit.

He smirked against her skin when he felt how damp her panties were, gliding the pad of his middle finger over her clit and circling it lazily. She trembled underneath his touch, pulling her other hand up from the door behind her to grasp at his shirt and pressing her forehead into his neck.

"You like that, Princess?" He asked, but he already knew the answer when she let out a whimper underneath him. He pulled back just enough to watch her, holding his smoke in between his long, thin fingers. He then used that free hand to grope one of her breasts, pulling it out from the low-cut fabric and kneading the flesh between his unoccupied fingers. He slipped the digits on his other hand under her panties, gliding them through her folds and chuckling as he heard her whimpering again. She let out a low moan feeling his fingers dipping inside of her, clenching onto the fabric of his dark green button-up.

She gave his cock another steady pump, pulling her head back from his neck to look into his eyes. They exchanged a lust-filled glance before she shot forward to kiss him again, shifting her hand from his chest to the back of his head where she held him against her lips. She ground down against his fingers, moaning into his mouth and stroking his girth quickly.

"Fuck--" He muttered against her tongue, pressing himself up harder against her and quickening the movement of his wrist. She moaned as she felt him slip another finger into her heat and in turn flicked her own wrist faster. He groaned again, pulling away just enough to catch his breath as he snatched her lower lip between his teeth. He pulled his fingers from her cunt and began pressing tight circles against her clit with his middle finger. He shifted his head back just enough to prop his cigarettes between his lips, holding it between them as he took a long drag and blew the smoke out from the side of his mouth. He took his now free hand and shifted it down to pull at her thigh, lifting it up and pressing her leg back under the crook of her knee.

The shift in position caused Yuuna's head to tilt back against the door, a soft moan resonating from her lips as her eyes rolled back. She lifted her arm to wrap it around his shoulders and rested the other hand on his cheek, huffing as she refocused her gaze onto the scarred face in front of her. Shikamaru rutted his hips forward, grinding his cock against her, running the tip along her soaked panties. He groaned at the feeling, letting his head fall back a little as the cigarette between his lips threatened to fall to the floor. He tilted his head forward, brow furrowed and face hot, and ground his cock against her heat again.

"You want it?" He rasped, shifting his hand to his face to pull the cigarette from his mouth. He exhaled the smoke to the side and circled his hips against her again. She tilted her head back against the door again and nodded. He chuckled and grabbed her face, squishing her cheeks slightly, pulling her head down and forcing her to look into his eyes. "I'm not doing shit until I hear you say it."

"Fuck me." She hissed with a pant, then pulled his head towards hers to capture him in a hungry kiss. He smirked against her and chuckled through his nose, then pulled back to release his grip on her cheeks and replace his cigarette between his lips. She had to stop her eyes from rolling back into her head as she felt him slip his fingers inside of her again, breathing out a heavy pant and biting down on her bottom lip. Her brows furrowed and she looked up at him through heavy lashes. "With your cock, you shitty bastard."

He scoffed and glared down at her, maintaining eye contact for a moment. In one quick movement he removed his fingers from her soaking hole and pulled her panties to the side, then slammed his hips forward until his cock was buried inside her to the hilt. They moaned in synchronization, her body trembling as her pussy adjusted to the sudden stretch. His cigarette fell to the vinyl tile beneath them as he panted, pressing his forehead hard against hers. He stomped out the cigarette and refocused his vision on her, pressing her leg back farther and smirking.

"Fuck, you feel as good as I hoped you would." Shikamaru huffed, the grin still present on his face. He slowly shifted his hips back, sliding his cock out of her slowly. The lazy movement elicited a moan from the woman in front of him. He shifted his hips forward, sliding back inside of her, and repeated the slow action a few times. He wanted to feel every inch of that intoxicating wet heat that wrapped around him so deliciously. He chuckled as she huffed beneath him, leaning in closer to her face. "Feel good, sweetheart? C'mon, you like it, don't you?"

Yuuna furrowed her brow and huffed, the movement of her hips synchronizing with his betraying the look of annoyance on her face. She tried desperately to keep up her facade but the moan that escaped her lips was enough of an answer to his question. He scoffed down at her, lips mere inches from hers, as he slowly pressed his cock back inside her cunt. He pressed her leg back again until it was nearly flush with her chest. She gasped as he deepened his thrusts, and he took the opportunity to close the small space between their faces.

He pressed his lips to hers and she parted her own upon contact, allowing his tongue to traverse inside the wet cavern of her mouth. She shifted her leg from his grip, resting her calf up onto his shoulder. He groaned into her mouth and held her thigh as he thrusted his hips forwards. She let one of her hands snake its way behind his head to hold his mouth against hers while the other found its way to the buttons on his shirt. She began to unbutton the fabric as he fucked into her, slipping it off his shoulders so it met his blazer on the ground.

Yuuna's hands wandered the expanse of bare skin in front of her, dragging her long, painted nails across his flesh. She pulled at his hair to separate them, huffing against his face as she caught her breath.

"F-Fuck, 's so good," She mewled, lost in the pleasure and dropping her facade. Shikamaru smirked at her and shifted one of his hands down her body, letting his thumb drag over her clit as he slowed his pace considerably. She keened at his touch, furrowing her brow upward and looking into his sultry mocha eyes.

"You like that, yeah?" He inquired, flicking his thumb against her nerves at a lazy pace. "You like getting stuffed and having your pussy played with?"

She nodded in response, moaning as his thumb hit a sweet spot against her nerves. "S-So good, 's so g-good."

He grinned wickedly at her and halted his movements entirely. He pulled himself out of her sopping cunt and gave his cock a steady stroke as he looked down at her. The rage in her eyes was absolutely delectable.

"H-Hey, what--" She stammered, heaving for breath. "What the fuck? Why did you stop?!"

He simply smiled down at her and cocked his head to the side.

"'Cause I wanna hear you say it."

Her eyes widened and her face flushed. He couldn't be serious. She frowned and gave a little snarl, baring her teeth at him.

"W-What the fuck do you mean?" She growled, still panting to catch her breath. He chuckled again, stroking his cock and leaning forward to ghost his lips over the shell of her ear and whisper.

"I wanna hear you say how much you want me to fuck you." He grinned wickedly, his breath hot against her ear. She shivered and her eyelids fluttered, swallowing thickly as her head lightly tapped against the wood behind her. He chuckled through his nose, shifting his hips forward and slipping his cock between her thighs, rubbing it along her folds. "Wanna hear you beg for it."

The sound of his husky voice rang in her ear and that alone nearly made her moan. Her knees trembled as she felt his girth sliding between her legs. Every part of her body was screaming at her to give in to his request. But she was stubborn, and even though he pretty much had her figured out, she couldn't give up her facade. Not yet. She met his gaze when he pulled back from her ear, furrowing her brow.

"I don't beg for anyone." Yuuna spoke quietly, keeping her eyes fixed on his. "Especially not for you, Nara."

Shikamaru gave an annoyed frown, sucking the air between his teeth and scowling down at her. He pulled his cock from between her legs and fixed it back into his trousers, stepping away from her and leaning down to pick up the articles of his discarded clothing. Realizing what was happening, the panic settled on her face and she watched as he collected his things.

"Wh-What are you doing?" She asked. He stood up straight and loomed over her almost threateningly.

"If you're not into it, I'm not gonna bother wasting my time." He retaliated, moving past her to grab the door handle. He swung the doors open and began to step out of Naruto's office, but stopped when he heard her call out to him.

"I--..." She started, but trailed off as if she didn't know what to say. She stared at his back, clenching her fists tightly to help soothe the anxiety that was running through her. The jig was up. He'd had her figured out, and there was no point in her trying to bluff anymore. With a shaky sigh, she straightened up and looked at the back of his head. "I--...I want you to f-fuck me. Please."

If his back hadn't been turned, she would have been able to see the devilish grin that stretched across his lips. Just as he had planned. He paused for a moment before slowly turning around to look at her. Their eyes met and he watched her throat tighten as she swallowed. He shifted his attention to her lips, those beautiful pouty lips, and he smirked. He felt his still hard cock twitch and he casually strolled over towards her until they were standing face to face. He loomed over her, gaze burning through her, and leaned his head forward until their lips were mere centimeters apart.

"What was that, doll-face?" He whispered, that cocky smile still present on his features. "You're gonna have to be a little more specific."

The tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife. She stood there, breathing heavily, watching him closely as her cheeks burned hot. She swallowed again, shifting to press her body up against his, trailing her hands along the expanse of his bare chest. She felt his cock pressing against her underneath his pants and it had her almost salivating. Poking her tongue between her painted lips to lick them, she panted again before rutting her hips forward against his.

"W-Want you to fuck me, Shikamaru," She huffed, calling him by his first name for the very first time since they'd met. "Want to feel your cock inside me, w-want you to fill me up. I-I need it."

Every single word that rolled off her tongue had him groaning. He dropped the clothes he was holding to the ground and immediately grabbed hold of the back of her head, crashing his lips against hers. She let out a moan on impact, parting her lips right away so his tongue could brush up against hers. He began to walk forward, pushing her back, until he backed her up against the edge of the couch that resided in the corner of Naruto's office. As soon as her calves hit the couch, he shoved her down onto the cushions. Yuuna landed with a soft oof and she looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, huffing softly as the tension between her legs was building up again. He reached into his trousers and pulled out his aching cock, stroking it steadily a few times as he watched her. She licked her lips, rubbing her thighs together as her hands found their way to the waistband of his trousers. She tugged them down just enough so they hung around his thighs and immediately dove forward to swallow his girth, pressing her nose against his hips.

Shikamaru gave a hungry groan as he watched his length disappear behind her lips, fisting her hair and working his hips into a rhythm. He watched her carefully as she slid her tongue along the length of his cock. It was just how he'd pictured it in his head. Even better than he'd imagined. He worked himself up to a steady pace, holding her head still as his hips slapped against her face. She gripped onto his pants tightly and clamped her eyes shut, holding her breath as he fucked into her mouth. He slammed his hips forward, holding her head against them and staring down at her as he caught his breath. She finally opened her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked up to meet his gaze, panting as she caught her breath too. The look on her face was absolutely sinful. It was everything he'd thought it would have been and more. It was just what he was waiting for. He pulled out of her mouth with a groan and she sputtered as the air rushed back into her lungs, coughing and heaving for breath.

Without warning, he shifted downwards and pressed her legs back towards her chest, situating his face between her thighs. He tugged her soaking panties to the side and Yuuna gasped when she felt his tongue gliding through her folds, squirming around and desperately trying to bite back a moan.

"No point in holding it in, Princess," He growled, kissing her inner thighs and nibbling lightly against her flesh. He looked up at her and smirked as he licked a stripe up from her entrance to her clit, circling her nerves lazily. "I wanna hear just how loud you can be for me."

As if on cue, she let out a lewd moan that echoed through the empty office as he lapped at her clit. She pulled one hand up to her head to run it through her hair, and moved the other down on top of Shikamaru's to grasp at his. He smirked against her skin as he continued to devour her cunt, wrapping his arms under her thighs and holding her against his tongue. She draped her legs over his shoulders, squeezing his head lightly between her thighs as she rutted her hips against his mouth.

"F-Fuck--..." She whimpered, panting as she ground down against his tongue. She threw her head back against the sofa and moaned again as she began to feel the pressure build in her gut. "Good, s-so good."

He smiled smugly against her, sliding his tongue through her folds again. He pulled one hand from her thigh and sunk his middle finger into her heat, curling it upwards as he began to thrust the digit in and out of her entrance. He held her against his tongue as her hips rolled and her breathing became heavy, slipping a second finger inside of her to stretch her out more. He could feel her thighs tighten around his head and he knew she was close. Lashing his tongue aggressively against her clit and flicking his wrist quickly, it wasn't long before she came undone under his touch.

Her thighs clenched as her orgasm crashed over her, a lustful cry falling from her lips as her vision went white and she slammed her eyes shut. She ground down against his face, tugging his hair tightly as she held him against her, tongue falling from her lips as she panted to catch her breath. He pulled his fingers from her trembling pussy and shifted his position so he was hovering over her, the head of his cock just barely kissing her entrance. He slid it through her folds, gathering her slick and pressing ever so slightly into her hole.

"This what you want?" Shikamaru asked rhetorically; he very much knew the answer already by the way her eyes were glued to his girth pushing into her. She nodded vigorously and bit down on her lip, wiggling her hips to invite him to fuck her. He snickered and leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers in a sloppy kiss before pulling away and looking into her emerald hues. "Then fucking say it."

"Want your cock," She whimpered immediately, chasing his lips and pulling him into her for another kiss. Their tongues met on impact and she tried to grind her hips down against him to push him into her further, but he pulled his own back just to tease her when she tried. She whined against his mouth and pulled away from his lips, grasping at his biceps as she looked up desperately into his eyes. "P-Please, Sh-Shikamaru, I need it. N-Need you to fuck me. Wanna feel your cock inside me."

That was all the invitation he needed. Without another word, he smirked and shoved his hips forward, burying his cock inside of her again. It felt just as good the second time.

"Fuck, you feel so fuckin' good, Yuuna." He groaned, pressing her legs back towards her chest and leaning forward to capture her in a searing kiss. He began to punch his hips forward, slamming them against hers as he pounded into her cunt relentlessly. He pulled back to look down at her and watch her expression. Her eyes were crossed and her tongue lolled from between her lips, a string of saliva dribbling down the side of her mouth. She looked absolutely beautiful. His lips pulled into a smug grin and he slapped his hips against hers, halting his movement to not only catch his breath but to admire the sight beneath him again.

"You like that don't you?" He muttered with a pant, pulling his hips back and grinding them forward slowly. She nodded furiously, digging her painted fingernails into the flesh of his arms. He continued to rut against her painfully slowly, making sure to feel every inch of her velvet walls wrapping around him. "Such a slut for my cock, aren't you, doll-face?"

He resumed his feral pace after she nodded, pounding into her heat and sealing her mouth with a kiss. He shifted one hand from under her knee to rest on her pelvis as he flicked at her clit with his thumb again. She moved to wrap her arms around the back of his neck where she held him pressed tightly against her, moaning loudly against Shikamaru's lips.

"Good girl," He groaned, slowing his pace just a little to emphasize the praise. He traced slow, lazy circles around her clit, eliciting another moan from the woman beneath him. He smirked and pulled away from her just enough so their lips were barely touching. "I wanna hear just how much you love it, yeah?"

"S' g-good," She whimpered, choking out a sob. Yuuna cracked her eyes open to see his mocha hues staring back at her with so much intensity that it made her quiver. "S-So fucking good, l-love your c-cock."

He groaned, rolling out his neck in a circle and smiling down at her. He quickened his pace again and began slapping his hips against hers, flicking tight circles against her nerves and watching her mouth grow wider and wider as her climax approached.

"Be a good girl for me and cum on my cock, yeah?" He grunted, working hard to push her over the edge. He kissed her and pressed his cheek against hers, his hot breath fanning against her ear. "Cum all over my cock, Princess. I wanna hear you scream my fuckin' name."

The coil in her gut snapped and she was sent spiraling into her climax, arching her back off the sofa and crying out Shikamaru's name so loud he was sure the building across the street could hear. The thought sent a jolt of electricity through his body and his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head.

He retracted his hips and kicked off his trousers, then sat down on the couch next to her. He pulled Yuuna on top of him and she straddled his lap, resting one hand on his shoulder and slipping the other behind his head to pull him in for a lustful kiss. He slid one hand from her waist to the back of her neck where he pulled the ties of her dress down, allowing her to pull away from him to remove the garment. She tossed it onto the floor next to his pants and dove back in, their tongues meeting on impact. He ran his hands up and down her waist as she ground her hips back against his girth, grabbing a handful of her ass as a growl vibrated in his throat. He pulled her down and they moaned together as she sunk down onto his length.

She began to move her hips slowly at first, looking down at him and watching him with half-lidded eyes. He ran a hand up her waist to her chest where he grabbed at her tits and pulled one into his mouth, lapping slowly at the bud as her hips circled around his cock. He flicked his tongue quickly, kneading the supple flesh between his fingers as his eyes closed and he groaned against her skin. He bucked his hips upwards as she ground down on him, using his other hand to squeeze at her ass again. She let out a lewd moan and adjusted her pace, speeding up as she bounced against his girth. Yuuna rested her hands on his shoulders as leverage as she moved. He separated from her with a pop, sliding his hands under her ass to guide her along the length of his cock.

"Yeah, that's it," He praised, watching himself disappear inside of her. He bit down on his lip to stifle a groan, breathing deeply as the pressure began to build up in his gut. "Fuck yourself on my cock, just like that, doll-face."

He leaned forward and kissed her, tugging at her lip with his teeth as he shifted one hand to her pelvis. He began to trace circles around her clit again, determined to make her cum at least one more time before he gave in to his own rapidly approaching pleasure. He snapped his hips upwards, meeting her pace and making quick work of his fingers against her sensitive nerves. He watched her closely, observing every little shift in her face. When he noticed her mouth widen and her brows arch upwards, Shikamaru knew that she was close. He smirked at her and chuckled, grasping at her hip and digging his nails into her flesh as he fucked into her sopping cunt.

"Gonna cum?" He asked rhetorically. The expression on her face said it all. She nodded her head vigorously and squeezed his shoulders, huffing as she bounced along his length.

"C-Close, s-so close," She murmured, her body hot and tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. "G-Gonna c-cum, n-need to c-cum--"

He groaned with a snicker and sealed their mouths once more, flicking his thumb aggressively against her swollen clit. "Good girl. Cum for me, doll, all over my cock."

She continued to circle her hips against his, grinding down against his thumb and edging herself closer and closer to release, until finally the knot in her gut snapped and she was sent hurtling towards her climax. She arched her back forward, bucking her hips against his cock and pressing her forehead against his as her mouth fell open and her eyes sealed shut. A sultry cry left her lips and she panted as she came down from her high.

He pulled his hands away and wrapped his arms around her back, then pressed his temple against her cheek as he began to thrust upwards to meet his own release. He grunted as he drew closer, his once meticulous and meaningful thrusts becoming more and more sloppy. He was desperate now to chase after her high, pounding into her used cunt like a feral animal.

"Gonna fill you up," He growled as his body trembled and his vision began going white. "L-Like the desperate slut you are."

With a snap upwards of his hips he finally allowed himself the release he had been searching for so desperately. His hips stuttered and slowed as he came, shooting thick spurts of cum inside of her with a grunt. Shikamaru panted to catch his breath, then moved his arms from her back to slide his hands along her waist and lifted her off of his lap to disconnect from her. Yuuna pulled back from him and smiled down at the man beneath her, cupping his face and running her thumb along the scars on his cheek. She leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips, basking in the afterglow of what had turned out to be quite an amazing turn of events. She pulled away and he flicked his gaze between her emerald eyes.

"You're a horrible liar, you know." He smiled, running his fingers along her salty skin. She raised an eyebrow and chuckled.

"What are you talking about? I wasn't lying about anything." She said, tilting her head to the side. "I really did hate you when we first met."

"Oh come on. I know you were probably convinced that you had me fooled into thinking you hated me," He started, letting his hands rest on her hips. "But you're the easiest book I've ever read, doll-face."

Yuuna furrowed her brow and scoffed at him. He responded by flashing her a sly grin, drawing his lips closer to hers.

"That smoke break thing was the first red flag." He explained, shifting his eyes to look at her lips. "Why in your right mind, if you hated me, would you willingly drag your feet over to stand next to me, and then ask if I had a smoke I could spare? Especially when there are so many other guys around here who smoke too? You don't even smoke, so why in the hell would you ask a guy you hate for something to fuel a habit you don't even have?"

She sat on top of him and said nothing, simply continuing to trace the lines of his scars along his cheek.

"And that night when I came back to the office and was drunk off my ass." He began, looking into her eyes. "You could have just left me on this couch for someone else to deal with. But you stayed with me all night to make sure I was okay. If you hated me as much as you said you did, you wouldn't have given a rat's ass about what happened."

He leaned forward to press his lips against hers, nibbling at her bottom lip and tugging it gently between his teeth with a cocky smirk.

"You wanna know what the biggest red flag was?" He whispered. "After that night when those punks started following you and you had to call me to get you home safe, I've been walking you to and from work every single day. I know you're not a pushover, Yuuna. You can take care of yourself." He kissed her again, running his hands along her sides. "If you didn't want me escorting you to work, you could have told me to fuck off or threaten me at any time. But you never did. Not once."

He looked into her eyes and gave her a teasing smile, to which she responded by narrowing her gaze and furrowing her brow. He leaned forward again before he spoke, lips barely touching hers

"You've got it bad for me and you're just too stubborn to admit it."

She looked down at him. The jig was officially up. He had her figured out; read her like a book, just like he'd said. Finally, she smiled down at him and chuckled.

"Alright, you got me." She admitted with a roll of her eyes. Yuuna traced her thumb along his scars again, humming softly as she looked between his eyes. "I guess you won this little game of baseball between us, huh?"

He watched her eyes and smiled, leaning forward to close the gap between their faces again. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled her over onto her back, pinning her down on the couch. He slated a knee between her thighs and shifted forwards, hovering his lips over hers. They pulled into a sly grin before they met hers in a slow, deliberate kiss. He pulled away and snickered.

"I won the second you locked eyes with me that very first time, Princess."

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cacoetheswriting · 2 years

Note

Hey there, beautiful!🌹

Can I request the prompts - 17: "Why do you hate me?", 44: "I lied" and 2: "Can I kiss you?" with Marsella from Lcdp please? Thank youu, you're the best! 🥰

hi gorgeous 💘 i hope i did your vision justice! (and im super sorry it took so long)

pairing: marsella x fem!reader warnings: age gap (reader is in her early to mid 20s), a swear word or two, a little self-doubt, mild arguing, forbidden love?, brief mentions of alcohol consumption word count: 1.4k summary: tasked with making sure nothing happens to you, marsella makes it known he would rather be doing anything else. but not for the reasons you may think.

There are many things The Professor asked Marsella to do over the years. The list got progressively longer as the seasons changed and the tasks… Well, the tasks got arguably more and more difficult. Now, it was nothing Marsella couldn’t manage. And not like he was ever going to complain or stop working for The Professor altogether. He owed the man his life. The least he could do is repay some of that debt with some grunt work.

This particular task however, this one topped them all.

When The Professor entrusted Marsella with what he described as ‘the most important undertaking he would ever assign anyone’, Marsella did not think it would involve you.

You. The Professor’s adoptive sister — younger sister at that.

It wasn’t a big deal at first. A job is a job, and this one was clearly important. And not to mention also quite simple: keep you out of harm's way. Marsella could do that. He could keep you safe.

But the more time you spent together, the worse it got.

The older man fell for you. He fell hard.

What made everything one-hundred times more insufferable was Marsella knew he could never do anything about it. He could never act on his feelings. You were off limits. The baby sister of his employer, his friend. The person he was tasked with keeping safe and instead he developed strong emotions for.

Like, fuck. If The Professor ever found out, all hell would break loose.

Therefore he did what he believed anyone in his situation would do. He distanced himself. Well, as much as he could anyway.

It was hard considering the two of you were always together. Day and night. Sharing a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, where you pranced around in clothing that left little to the imagination…

But Marsella did his best to stay clear of you.

The conversations you once held, stopped. The silly jokes and laughter ceased. If you entered the living room, he would excuse himself and leave for an extended cigarette. You no longer ate your meals together. No more card games or enjoying a cheap bottle of whiskey together. Nothing.

To you, it felt as though you were suddenly an inconvenience. Like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

And to say that simply hurt would be an understatement.

“Why do you hate me?”

The question slipped off your tongue one evening, as the older man stepped inside the apartment following one of his ‘cigarette breaks’.

“Why do you hate me?” you repeated with a little more confidence, while getting up on your feet.

Marsella’s gaze locked with yours, albeit only for a split second, the door closing behind him with a soft thud.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he grumbled.

“No,” you protested, “You’re not walking away until you answer me.”

Marsella exhaled, “Kid, let’s not do this now.”

“No, you are not blowing me off. I deserve to know what I did wrong to make you hate me so much, you have to leave the room every damn time I enter!”

He clenched his jaw at your words. He didn’t hate you, far from it. But even if he could tell you the truth, how would ever begin to explain what he was really feeling.

“What is it?! B-because maybe I can work on it, fix it somehow and then we could go back to how we were—”

“You can’t.” Marsella cut in, the tone of his voice causing tears to form in the corners of your eyes.

It took everything you had not to break down completely, “What do you mean?”

“There is nothing you can do that will change things, okay?” Marsella stated, taking a firm step towards you. “I don’t want to be here. Yes, it was fun at first but babysitting isn’t a part of my job description.”

“Oh.”

“Will you drop it now?” Marsella demanded with a raised brow, but he didn’t quite wait for a response. Instead he retreated into the bathroom, leaving you alone with your tears.

The salty droplets trailed down your cheeks as you stared at the empty corridor ahead. Everything was closing in around you. Your worst fear was in fact reality. You were an inconvenience to him. He thought of you as nothing more than a chore.

You never expected anything except for friendship. He was older than you. He was a friend of your brothers. There were so many reasons why nothing could ever happen. Yes, you thought about him all the damn time (in various capacities), threading a dangerously thin line between friends and lovers, but you knew it was wrong. So you didn’t say anything.

Never in a million years however, did you think he would hate you.

You felt sick.

You needed to get away. Be anywhere but here.

By the time the sound of running water ceased, your essentials were packed. You hastily threw a black hoodie over yourself before reaching for your backpack and heading out the front door.

The distinctive sound of the automatic lock alerted Marsella. He stepped out of the bathroom, calling your name out into the dark apartment. No answer. His first thought was you probably fell asleep, it didn’t explain the clicking of the lock but he could have just imagined it. But then he heard an engine start. His eyes snapped to the counter where his keys were usually placed. Usually.

“Shit.”

By the time he ran out into the parking lot, you were gone.

“Shit…”

Days passed. Days and no contact from you.

Marsella had no idea where you were or more importantly if you were okay. He had no idea if you were planning on returning, but he guessed not.

He tried to call the burner phone he gave you on numerous occasions. No answer.

Truthfully, he was beginning to lose all hope in seeing you anytime soon and was gearing up to call The Professor, tell him what went down, when his own phone rang.

“I’m just calling you to say I’m okay.”

Hearing your voice should have brought him some sort of relief, but it didn’t. You were still out there all alone, in danger, and it was all his fault. He should have just been honest with you from the start. No matter the consequences.

“I lied,” Marsella exclaimed, “I didn’t mean what I said.”

“You’re just saying that to get me to come back.” A hint of annoyance in your tone, masking the hurt. “Look, I ain’t coming back. We’re both better off alone.”

“y/n…” he sighed, nervously running a hand through his hair, “I-I need you here.”

“Why?” you questioned, “I was a chore and now I’m not. You can run free. You don’t gotta be my glorified babysitter anymore.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? I lied.”

“Whatever you say, but your behaviour prior matched your words so forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“y/n—”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait! Don’t, please don’t hang up.”

Pause.

“Give me one good—”

“I think I love you.”

Silence. The air caught in your throat, his words leaving you speechless. On the other end of the line, you could hear his ragged breathing. Begging, aching for a response.

He was about to ask you to say something, anything, but the line went dead. The long beep signalising the end of the call unpleasantly tugged at his heartstrings.

A faint “hey” hailed Marsella back to reality. The unlit cigarette between his fingers fell to the ground as his eyes caught yours.

“W-what are you doing here?”

“You asked me to come back, so uhm, so here I am.”

Marsella licked his lips before the corners twirled upwards into a faint smile.

The bag you were holding found itself at your feet as your arms made their way around his neck, your fingertips gently tugging at his hair. Marsella’s shaky hands made home on your waist. He gave you a light squeeze before shifting them slowly to the small of your back. Your whole body instantly relaxed, your muscles became loose and you let yourself sag completely into his affectionate embrace.

“Did you mean what you said—”

You began to whisper into his neck, but couldn’t quite muster any sort of coherent sentence. Partially because you were distracted by the scent of his cologne, and partially because you were afraid to get hurt again.

He broke the embrace. Eyes searching yours as if he was reading a treasure map and his hands cupped your cheeks ever so delicately, “Can I kiss you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

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hhjs · 3 years

Text

forget me not.

♡ based on — "During times of war. I want to say: I only love you, And I cling you, Like the peel clings to a pomegranate, Like the tear clings to the eye, Like the knife clings to the wound." and the song nightlife by daydream masi.

♡ summary — Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

wherein, putting your heart on the line for the sake of doing favours isn’t a frequent component in your schedule. But what happens when this favour is asked for by the boy you may or may not have fancied for far too long?

You accept it.

For a very embarrassing reason, really, which is — you think Hwang Hyunjin needs you.

♡ pairing— hwang hyunjin x reader

♡ word count— 8.8k whoopsies

♡ genre and alternate universe — angst, fluff + hanahaki au.

♡ author's note— this was supposed to be a drabble and then i sort of lost my fucking mind ehe...also this is easily the worst thing i have ever written im so sorry aaa but this is a lil present from my end hahaha

♡ warnings— suggestive content, vomiting, mention of blood. allusions to depression and heartbreak.

Amongst other things, you're extremely bad at saying 'no'. You don't mean the word per se...but the underlying connotation of this very monosyllable which may come at the expense of letting another person down.

It's sort of stupid, you understand, your friends have constantly voiced their worries for your extremely complacent nature more often than you'd think actually. But it all goes over your head. See — old habits really do die hard.

When you're eight, this very defect takes you to dreadful saxophone lessons your mum spoke so highly of. When you're 15, it gets you called to the principal's office for flashing Jeongin trigonometric functions in Mister Choi's pop quiz, when you're older, things are definitely no different.

The passenger seat is occupied, Hyunjin's holding a tangled muffler to his suede jacket clad chest. At 21, he's become someone you used to know. A friend of a friend, Felix's to be very specific. But the man in question, who was supposed to be his ride, passes off this duty for kegstands and you just happen to be the designated driver for the night, shuffling Jisung beside Changbin and Chan, who claims to be 'sober' even though he's half asleep.

Hyunjin is uncharacteristically quiet.

There's a polite smile on rendered your way as your eyes meet. A small curvature along his plump bottom lip, tighter around the edges. Still this simple formality is so beautiful that you feel something inside you come alive.

When Jisung starts snoring, you flip on the radio and Pink Floyd's Wish You Were Here comes on.

Your fingers feel numb when they come to tap out a rhythm to the track. It's nice. Tingling guitar riffs swelling, David Gilmour's gruffy voice pours in from faulty speakers. The more the song progresses, the more you find yourself attempting to think about anything that will distract you from the boy beside you, in the flesh no less.

So late at night, the main road is eerily silent. Cobblestones reflecting the sound of tires thumping against its layout, streetlights blinking at you from their drooping heads. Across the street, a baker is tucking away leftover bread and buskers are packing up their beat up guitars, a man in his late 50's pulling his blanket to his nose as he rests a head full of gray hair on the cold pavement.

You glance at Hyunjin from the corner of your eye and find that his staggering smile has completely disappeared. Now there's a distant glaze in his eyes. It's like he's here, in this moment, with you, but at the same time, he's somewhere else.

Under the impression you've done something wrong, you immediately begin to panic. But the thing is, you don't actually know if you should ask. Would it constitute as crossing a line if you had anyway?

Hyunjin covers his mouth with a sleeve, muffled retching building beyond fabric.

The reasonable assumption is obvious. It's not abnormal to be nauseous when you've got one too many drinks in you. He motions for you to pull over, incoherent sentences practically melding together, words forming and dissipating between choking fits.

You scramble to dig out a bottle of mineral water you habitually deposit in the glove compartment, offering him the tissue first. Ears perking up in satisfaction when a garbled thanks escapes his parted lips. But then... something weird happens.

As your eyes flicker to unintentionally glance at the contents discarded on the pitch grey sidewalk, you freeze in your seat.

You were never a big believer of superstition, not someone who buys into myths only meant for the fiction genre. Sure, you can be gullible sometimes...but what's happening falls no way under the realistic category.

The lethal Hanahaki disease, only inherited by some unlucky descendants, every moment in your head prior to this one, was something that's obviously non existent.

Yet... there's so much blood, too much blood attesting to your blatant ignorance. The petals are of a white rose, smudging together in swirls of grotesque crimson in mimicry of a sheen of red sticking to the inner corners of his lips. It has happened before, you can tell, from just how unsurprised he looks.

Hyunjin's stare flits to commit every detail of your to memory, in what only seems a quick study of gauging your forthcoming reaction, though even before you can produce a coherent thought, he says,

"You can't tell anyone." His voice drops a few octaves as though he's afraid your snoring friends in the back might've noticed. "Please."

Hyunjin's face softens by the slightest, contrary to his firm demand, there lies a desperation you couldn't overlook.

In retrospect, what you're about to tell is ultimately a promise that'd come back to bite you in due time. However, see now, you're extremely bad at saying no. Somehow you're even worse when it comes to Hyunjin. So you blink, turn the radio off and say,

"Okay."

—

The pool is preheated. For that you're most thankful.

Frankly, you couldn't imagine what it'd be like being pushed into a chilly body of water mid winter. Not that it's pleasant otherwise, you can't swim.

Well at 15, you hadn't quite learned to. The other kids have scurried inside to hog freshly baked Snowman biscuits Seungmin's mum is renowned for.

Then and you think you'll never quite forget it, Hyunjin's wearing an orange power ranger t shirt, it's darker now that it's wet, his glasses are marked with uneven splatters. His face scrunches up at the sudden splash of wetness engulfing his body. He wasn't planning to get in the water.

"Hold on tight." He says, wounding your arms around his neck, your calves tighter to his sides to support your shivering body. Back then Hyunjin's hair was black, cropped short and swept to the side, he smells like fabric softener and skittles. A water donut is discarded in the middle of the pool.

Everybody you know and don't know, from the birth of superheroes stuck in comic books to valiant protagonists behind fuzzy television screens, has this inherent desire to be saved. From the world, from themselves. No, no, it doesn't have to be a grand gesture, swooping them off of their feet from the grasp of surly men in dark alleys, sometimes it's really just simple. Sometimes people save you in the most ordinary way there is.

The weight of your form on his bright pink water donut while he stood on his toes to merely rest his elbows so the item wouldn't flip, a small act, certified this very claim, had not the nimble touch of his cold fingers, brushing away wet hair from your face, to anxiously ask if you're okay met the purpose. He talks to you like the sound of his voice has the power to injure you.

You nod slowly. Like this, it feels like you're going to be.

Hyunjin pouts, looking perfectly unconvinced. He paddles the pair of you to steel stairs spiraling into the pool, so he can stand without just his nose peeking out of the water, he looks at you once again, a wrinkle between his dark, arched eyebrows and says solemnly, "Jisung's such an idiot sometimes, isn’t he?"

But isn't he your friend? You want to ask. Something stops you though —his tone tells you you aren't the only one to fall victim to Jisung's practical jokes. Not that they were offensive or anything. Han Jisung, the same person who twiddles his thumbs when he wants the last chicken nugget and cries every time you watch Howl's Moving Castle together, genuinely doesn't mean any harm. It's just that...when he's comfortable with people, who aren't many, he tends to do a lot of dumb things. Dumb, endearing things that Minho will kill him for someday.

"A little bit," You mumble under your breath. Heat rising to your face at the possibility of Hyunjin being concerned for you. He sounds almost angry. "Thanks by the way."

It's rather pitiful to remember. Because with time, Hyunjin's world becomes so big that your interaction stands to be too insignificant to not forget. Before you know it, he's the shooting guard of your school's basketball team, just a handsome face who dates better girls, makes better friends. It's superficial and a little sad.

No, no, a little sad is an understatement actually.

To see someone you understood intimately, a boy who always described details too much just to stray from the main story, a boy with too many emotions bubbling to an awfully animated surface; someone who was passionate, sensitive and so nauseatingly big hearted...change into a man who is indubitably untouchable...is tragic. At least.

Yet funnily enough — you can't quite imagine a world without Hwang Hyunjin. His ringing laughter rippling through loud ambiences, his distant humming of Christmas carols whilst he absently skimmed through spines of children's novels and his eyes glimmering in adoration whenever he spoke of something he loved — Without him, you imagine, there would be a massive deficiency in your world, in the world. Like if birthday cakes came with the biggest slice carved out.

Hyunjin grins, a big sort of candid grin that turns his eyes into upturned crescents. His previous temperament long forgotten. Suddenly, this utterly atrocious happening seems to not be so bad. Suddenly you don't mind that Jisung is an idiot sometimes.

"Of course."

—

Hyunjin is not perfect. Hyunjin is no prince charming.

People don't know this. They don't understand this.

He ends up paying for dinner when he's out with a big crowd even though they were supposed to split the bill, he ends up crying when he gets angry and he is an abysmal liar, in every sense of the phrase. Hardly ever succeeding to hide his emotions when he should. When he was a kid his parents reminded him that it's a good thing to be unapologetically himself, that being honest is a good thing.

But as your eyes meet from across an ocean of people quagmired by crunchy leaves, sticky remnants of rain and his ex girlfriend who he now claims to be okay with being friends with, on her toes to poke his cheek whilst Chan's arm wraps around her waist, the soft white roses ornamented on a bow she loves wearing all the time, he thinks it's far from an agreeable trait to have.

Actually whilst you balance a newspaper under your arm and bring your coffee to your lips, it's like you're looking through him, past his skin, his flesh, something secret inscribed on his bones, embedded into his soul. You know everything, you know everything, you know everything.

The thought itself... surprisingly enough, doesn't appal him.

Hyunjin raises his palm in the air, feeling the autumn prickling against his skin. He waves at you.

—

Working at a library can be taxing. But it sure has its perks.

You can just about turn the place upside down and put it all back together without getting in trouble. Albeit another reason, besides your profession could be that Minho owns the place. Frankly, he may or may not have been the only cause behind your employment. It's hard to tell now that your co-workers really do recognise you've a knack for arranging things.

But to you, your job is very personal. A precious thing which relieves you from various worldly tensions. Velvety spines under your roughened fingertips, the burst of minted pages hitting your face every time you walk in, your love for reading, for a world of stories is so immense that you think you wouldn't have traded it even if your life depended on it.

For a disease that's not very well known, it's ironic how an entire section of mythology is dedicated to it. Past closing hours, amongst many novels mounted on your desk, you fixate on the one that made most sense. There's a few things you've picked up in common from all of them though — the hanahaki disease is extremely rare, it doesn't affect all those who suffer from the qualms of unrequited love.

Possible remedy according to findings entail

growths can be surgically removed, if the patient consents to eradication of memories of their loved ones.

Clanking of keys alerts incoming and you pause your tapping pen to look up.

"Burning the midnight oil, are we?"

Minho leans against the doorframe, he's half yawning, half talking and fully concerned for you.

"Yeah, looks like I'm gonna be a while." Your monotonous tone provides that you are not paying a lot of attention. You blurt without looking up. "Are you leaving?"

"No, still haven't finished archiving for that Pfizer project...But I'm going to get a bite to eat..." His inky eyes remain on you as his tone falters, "You want anything?"

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"Wow you're like...really uh invested." He tilts his head in thought, "You seeing someone again?"

You know Minho long enough to know he has a teasing side to him, from diaper days to play dates ending in pillow fights because he kept offering you his last Pringle just to pop it into his stupid smirking mouth — but you have no idea where he's going with this.

So you look up, finally. Furrowing your brows.

"No. What does that have to do with anything?"

He shrugs, "I haven't seen you concentrate so hard since you dumped Jeongin."

Your right eye twitches. Because you know exactly what he's referring to, and simultaneously, for the sake of your well-being, you much prefer being in denial. "What?"

"C'mon. Remember how you always ended up doing his homework?" He reminds you. "It's like when you like someone, you go out of your way to do charitable stuff for them. But...this? Too much. Even for you."

You ignore Minho's comment. To the world, Hwang Hyunjin's place in your life is not significant. After all this is the most natural undulation in the vicissitudes of life — for someone who once was your friend to eventually drift apart, to become a has been. It's too hard to explain why you care. After all this time.

"I was just being nice." You narrow your eyes, unimpressed. "Clearly this concept is lost on some people."

"Sure you are, bud. If being 'nice' is synonymous with whipped." Of course, there's a smug grin gracing his pouted lips that tempts you to fling something at him. Not that you can though. Seeing as Minho breaks out into a full fledged sprint, his singsongy voice a thinning echo bouncing off of shelves and windows and doors.

Still somehow his footsteps manage to travel through walls, permeating into your office with such great amplitude that you could be bamboozled into thinking he hasn't left at all. Or maybe you've stopped paying attention, your eyes zoom in on any other helpful detail you can put to use in wrapping your head around what you have witnessed firsthand.

At the same time, you can't really ignore how hungry you're feeling just from the mention of a bite to eat. So when Minho's shadow forms again on the page you've been 'reading' for the last few seconds you sense a gigantic wave of relief washing over you.

"You know what I changed my—" slamming the book shut, you blink against scanty provision of light, with raise your head and a bleary vision, recognise him in an instant. Except...it isn't Minho. "mind..."

The only source of brightness is a small emerald lamp perched on the corner of your desk, light green catches onto one of the ornamented corners and speckles of golden caress his supple skin gently. You hadn't realised how cold it might've been outside until you see how heavily dressed Hyunjin was, a long overcoat worn over woollen sweater, a Santa hat and muffler pulled to his chin. It's no one other than your boss himself who has given him directions to your office, you know this, Hyunjin has never been inside before.

So when he marvels absently, you sense yourself feeling a little self conscious about not cleaning up. All around you, a comforter and love seat pushed against the window, cigarette butts discarded in ashtray and then...the books strewn before you tell him you practically live here.

For some reason, Hyunjin only seems to loosen up at the spectacle.

"Hi." He says finally.

"Hi..." you arrange the reading materials quickly to one side so you can rest your elbows. A small (successful) attempt made to hide your research. "Something up?" You say, but what you really mean is, what are you doing here?!

Did he suspect you were going to tell on him? Right that's it, that must be it, you tell yourself, believing, knowing, of all the years Hwang Hyunjin has known of you he has never been one to care about your whereabouts.

"I just...um," He starts, forwarding his mitten clad hands. It's the back of a crumpled coffee cup on which straight handwriting reads a bucket list...of sorts. You immediately understand that his coming is an act of impulse. Urgency of living every moment like it's slipping through it's fingers, that he just needed to tell the only person who knows, be it by accident.

Hyunjin clears his throat. "I wanna do all this before I die."

In lieu of giving an instant response, baffled, you gawp at him. Despite knowing, hearing Hyunjin say it out loud somehow makes everything...too real.

It's as though someone's reached inside your throat, pulled your heart out and crushed it with their bare hands. Hyunjin, the boy who smelled like fabric softener and skittles and wore power ranger shirts, the boy with the fantastic smile and cold fingers, is dying. You won't let him. You can't let him.

You thumb along the numbers scribbled in hasty penmanship, look up and blink rapidly, "Okay," you say, a small whisper, barely there words. "That's okay."

Even with the hat covering tips of ears, you could tell the same faint blush coating his cheeks had rushed to that particular area. His eyes drift off to the sight of pens discarded inside a wooden holder because he can feel your gaze on him. "and I...I need your help."

"Alright."

Hyunjin's eyes widen to a great degree, he sits straighter, as if he hadn't expected you to comply so quickly.

And honestly? Neither had you.

It's quiet. Awkward.

"You know it's not like I haven't thought about dying. I just figured I'd get to grow old first, settle down, have kids and all that," A wry laugh escapes his parted lips. "Everything's happening too fast."

You hesitate, thinking he's making a mistake. Frankly he shouldn't feel obligated to give you an explanation.

"You...you don't have to tell me."

"No—I mean...can I?" He gives you a sheepish look, disliking his own whimsical tone, somehow endearing still. You find yourself wondering how long he had to keep his burdens to himself, not just pertaining to his illness, but everything. His dreams, his hopes, his fears. Anything which requires a certain amount of depth. And you almost ask him, the question sitting at the tip of your tongue, yet the realisation rather simple, stops you. Maybe you've mistranslated 21 year old Hyunjin all along — moulding himself into someone who's convenient around people who only liked him for who he appeared to be, maybe even with all that popularity, parties and glamour, he's just...lonely.

You push your reading glasses into your hair, press your knuckles under your chin and hum in consent.

He shifts in his seat, "Have you ever... been in love?"

You release an amused huff. Let your eyes linger on him for a long minute.

"Once."

Hyunjin half expects you to laugh. Poke fun at him for his melodramatic backstory. That's the sole reason why he doesn't tell his friends (funny, for people he considers close, they seem to know not much about him or care to know, that is. ). But you... you look at him with something in your eyes that tells him the rubbish reasons he posited makes all the sense in the world. Hyunjin's unsure of the tingle in his gut, why it's happening. But he thinks, just for a second, it feels a little like hope.

—

Midnight rendezvous.

As someone who has lived a fairly extraordinary life, Hwang Hyunjin's bucket list is bafflingly ordinary. He's more of a finding joy in small things kind of a person, punctilious at best.

Things change. People notice. They hesitate, whisper about you and last night while you were out on last minute cheap wine run, the grocerer, a girl who looks around sixteen asks you if you're dating Hyunjin. Underneath the thinly veiled curiousity, there's something like anger dripping from her words.

You furrow your eyebrows in simple insinuation that it's weird for a stranger to take interest in your life. Maybe it was written on your face, the fact that you're a dying man's beck and call is for reasons far more complicated than it looks.

You go to his parties. Greet him as a friend would and not just for the sake of maintaining formalities. He comes to the library more times than he does, waits for you to get off work so you can check something off the list at least. People notice. People understand. Hyunjin's different around you. He's bright, talkative when he forgets to contain himself. You sense your heart swelling with pride just at the understanding that he can be himself around you.

You drive to the beach, sit in your trunk and drink straight out of the bottle.

Hyunjin laughs a little. Suspends his feet in the air. With time, he's gotten paler, exhausted. "Rough day?"

You hum.

"Very. Our children's collection is usually low in stock around the weekends."

Hyunjin crosses his arms over his chest. Curious.

"And?"

"And if I say I got yelled at by a toddler would you believe me?"

Hyunjin feigns contemplation, even with the realisation that his body is becoming less and less cooperative, he manages to remain perfectly cheerful.

"I can actually," he grins, "At that age, I was a real pain in the ass."

"Were?"

Your smile is just a slight curl against the bottle's mouth as he grumbles under his breath about your 'insensitive' remark.

You think of your life after Hyunjin, think of his absence like a gaping hole you'll never be able to fill out. It makes you sick to your stomach.

—

Bake something from scratch.

Hyunjin's face twists in apparent thought, eyebrows rising. A pink tongue poked against his cheek, whilst he chews carefully, trying really hard not to flash an accidental reaction whilst you clasp your butter and oat flour soiled hands together, some of the batter on your cheek, neck to anticipate his answer like your will to live depends on it.

You ask yourself how it got to this. Why you didn't care that you were awake so early on a Sunday morning with flour powdering every kitchen appliance in sight in spite of being awfully restrictive about who you let into your kitchen. But it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter because it's nice like this.

Hyunjin has his hair pulled away from his bare face, a mole under his eye, a small birthmark on the back of his ear.

When you first met, you thought he was a kind of handsome that couldn't be real. Something formidable about it. Only destined to exist behind fuzzy television screens and flashy magazines.

But in retrospect, you realise, that that's not true at all.

If you look close enough, if you really pay attention, there's a softness underneath, something goofy, something warm, the sharp jut of his nose circling into a soft button, his eyes are big, black and his mouth jutted out into a natural pout, he looks innocent, like he doesn't quite realise the extent of his charms.

"It's..." His soft voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you look up to find his eyes glimmering jovially. Every time it surprises you, the lack of regret in them and the abundance of nonchalance. You wonder what it means to love someone like that, to love someone to the point of martyrdom. It shouldn't be like this. "perfect,"

"This is like, the only batch we didn't burn, right?"

You snort, "Yeah." Fully turn to him, "You know what they say, fifth time's the charm."

Hyunjin's laugh, you think, is so contagious that it makes it an imperative to smile in return. In shaky compartments the sound comes, like being 8, laying wide-eyed in a paddling pool and staring up at a crayon blue sky, raindrop rippling beyond all that noiseless water. His eyes curve to upturned crescents, an unconscious hand covering up the seams of his lips whilst he shakes his head. You don't even notice when he starts speaking again.

"Huh?"

"I said you got a little...something..."

You almost lose a fraction of your sanity when his nimble fingers come to wrap around your wrist while you hold onto the spatula employed into the whole snickerdoodle batter mixing business, a liberated hand coming up to gently wipe your cheek. It means everything to you. And nothing to him.

Later, when you're alone at night, really alone, you put your palm to your chest and feel the unsteady beat of your heart. A warning, a reminder. I can't. I can't. I can't.

—

You hold Hyunjin's hair up. His hands resting on the cold toilet seat, he's whimpering and bleeding. It happens every time he sees Haseul, or something which reminds him of her. Like the song.

This time she's drunk. And it's because she impulsively rises to her toes and presses a tender kiss to Chan's lips.

Hyunjin's just a feet away, across students and solo cups and streaks of neon falling irregularly through his line of sight.

He can never confess, not to her. The last thing Hyunjin wants is for her to feel bad for him. To say she feels the same as an act of service. He tells you. You understand. Somehow... you always understand.

They met in college, Hyunjin and she. And Chan was an upperclassman who seemed to be good at...well everything. At first, he couldn't figure out why it never occured to him before, the fact they were getting together maybe before, after or during the length of their relationship.

Though the answer is simple.

Hyunjin thinks the pillar to good relationships is trust. Call him a sappy romantic or whatever but he had seen true love manifest from it through generations before him and his parents and their parents. To think a different fate was woven for him...used to be unimaginable.

How ironic is that?

Hyunjin presses his cheek against your chest because he doesn't want you to look at him when he cries.

Then for the first time....he tells you he's scared. He's scared of what will happen to him. Of what is happening to him.

He's falling apart.

You cradle him, press him closer to your body like you're trying to put him together. People can't fix each other. Not really. But sometimes... they're worth the try.

"Hey...hey...it's alright," You shush him, run your fingers through his hair. Your voice almost breaking, faltering. Still this, this you mean it with every fibre of your being. "It's okay to be scared."

—

Self bleach hair.

It's Christmas and you're late for a late night dinner he's putting together. (As reluctant as he was about getting along with Hyunjin, he seems all too eager to make invite him whenever a get together takes effect.)

His apartment smells like floor cleaner. There's a queen sized bed pushed against an electric blue wall, a Fleetwood Mac poster taped to his door, small reading desk where Canon EOS New Kiss rests, polaroids of things checked off the list littered all its wooden surface.

You pick up the only photo he hasn't labelled, it reminds you that your friendship isn't just based off a pursuit. This is natural. Pizza box discarded between you two, on your roof top. It's a little too dark, you're holding a cigarette between your fingers, you're laughing and Hyunjin looks like he's going to complain the minute he's done taking the picture. (And he does.)

You smile, pressing your fingers against it like the touch could transport you to a simpler time.

"Ready to go?"

Hyunjin rakes a tentative hand through his newly dyed hair, grey (a suitable colour he says.). You can tell he's put a lot of effort into cleaning up, his usual hoodies and sweats alternated with a red satin shirt tucked into dark dress pants and a coat of the same colour. Hyunjin is beautiful. Perhaps even more like this. In fact, the extent of this quality is so Goliath-like that it obliges dolled up attendees to marvel up in awe. While you fully agree with their unsaid ponderings, you really do, you find yourself missing a less sophisticated version of him.

"Yeah, but first..." you fish out a wrapped squarish material from the depths of your pocket. Hyunjin's eyes widen, two bunny-like teeth showing for the extent of his grin.

"You got me a present!" He all but rips it out of your hand, shaking the material eagerly. He’s a Christmas person, a supreme holiday enthusiast if you will. The sheer excitement in him projects itself in every physical aspect possible. Slight jumping on the balls of his feet. "It's a cassette...?"

You speak too much, nervous he doesn't like it. "It’s a Christmas mix. I thought...since you like carols. I know it's a little old school, I'm sorry if that’s not what you were hoping for—"

Hyunjin pulls you into a big hug, wrapping his entire body it feels like; his arms around your waist, he squeezes you tighter against him, "Thank you." He whispers into your hair, it's not just about the cassette, you can tell.

There's a small light bulb dangling from his ceiling, he hasn't fixed it since the first time you pointed it out. You can tell with your eyes closed, you've begun to know more intimately than your own home. It's safe here. A place that deludes you into thinking that he's not running out of time, that even in his absence in the world, whenever you should walk into this room, it would be an imperative to find Hyunjin lazying about in its confines. Familiarity can be quite tricky, can't it?

His gratitude is not unknown to you. It's in the guilty smile that threatens to show every now and then, it's in this and it's in that. In many ways, it is not something you're a stranger to.

And yet the words manage to tears your heart at the seams. Just a little.

—

Make a snow angel.

From above, he imagines, he may appear to look like a chunk of cookie dough in an ice cream pint.

The snow is not as comfortable as it appears, its frigid temperature seeps into Hyunjin's clothes (and what feels like his internal organs, if that's even possible). He waves his hands and legs inward, outward.

Your head tilts towards him. Face twisted in annoyance. "You're getting on my wing!" You say. "Have you no respect for personal space?!"

Hyunjin narrows his eyes jovially. And people tell him he's the one with a penchant for theatrics. He leans closer in rebuttal, waving his leg around your design with more purpose. You give up. Sit on your knees, fumble with the snow. He’s still in the same position. Smug as ever...

"This is what happens when you disrespect your elders." He fake-warns. "Oka—"

What he doesn't anticipate, however, is the snowball you launch on his stupid grinning face. Now it's your turn to laugh. You clutch your stomach and point at him whilst he glares at you having barely managed to blow the snow off of his mouth.

"Oh, you're gonna get it now!"

You let out an animalistic screech, Hyunjin’s already trapped you under his weight, his thighs wound around your waist, hamstringing your plan to escape, now you're merely squirming. His fingers come down to attack your sides, digging into the flesh so mercilessly to the point you’re not sure if you’re laughing or crying. It's like there's a wildfire inside your lungs.

For a moment you forget, you let yourself forget what's to come.

“Alright, alright I’m sorry!” you press your palms against his chest in an attempt to push him off, Hyunjin has a dumb smile on his face that seems to give the impression of a hanger stuck inside his mouth. But... there's something behind his entertainment as the sound of his laugh dies down, chest heaving with exercise. His smile drops.

You can count each lash, each freckle and line on his face. The dark in his eyes. The pink of his lips. Your sweater's ridden to your ribs. And the warmth of his fingers shifting against your bare skin hits you with an earthshattering force.

Hyunjin kisses you. For a fleeting second, you freeze. Rigid with shock. Then it passes as soon as it comes.

You let out a noise of content,indubitably grateful that your neighbours forgot to put on their porch light for the night. See it’s like this, the act of kissing is not as special as is the person himself, you muse, you can kiss anyone, you can touch and be touched by anyone. But none of that truly compares to this. Not when they aren't him.

You’d be lying if you said you never thought about it. Just like you’ve thought about a lot of things. But just the realisation that the boy you’ve harboured in your heart for more complicated reasons than you disclose, to yourself even, touches you with so, so much care...it’s tearing you apart.

It’s too good to be real.

You suddenly push him away. The tugging and pulling at your heart too much to handle. For the fact remains — Hyunjin doesn't love you. He doesn't even like you. You never expected him to. Actually, you've never felt what you feel with that condition in mind either.

See when the feeling of having everything you could ever want is cradled between your palms...it ought to be hard to let go. (Maybe he’s just doing this because he feels bad for you, the little voice in your head says. You listen.)

Hyunjin speaks up first.

“I love Haseul.” he tells you, but it sounds more like he’s telling himself. “That’s why...that’s why, all this...I love her.” Not you.

You swallow, “I know.” Your hands come up to dust your pants. Hyunjin’s still on his knees, as if the answer to his conflicts are deposited under all the snow. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, it’s not okay. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have done—”

Now you hear it, the hint of pity in his voice. You don’t mean to sound as bitter as you do. Seeing as you’re usually very good at keeping calm , breaking that very reputed front frustrates you even more.

“Look just forget about it, okay? We don’t have to talk about this.”

Hyunjin looks like he didn’t expect this side of you to exist. At least, you think, at least it got him to stop talking.

—

Learn to skate.

"If I fall, I'm taking you with me."

"You say it like I have a choice."

Hyunjin shoots you a warning glare even though you can't see. His choppy skidding steps supported by the vice grip he has on your arms. You haven't skated since you were in highschool. But when you're pretty good at it still, the smooth blade of your beaten skates gliding through ice with much dexterity, it's like floating, freeing, the wind hitting your faces, snow catching in your lashes. It's peaceful, you try not to think about the warmth of Hyunjin's arm circling around body, the vague rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. His laboured breaths on your neck. It's torturous. But spending so much time with him has taught you to hide your feelings better.

The park welcomes a large crowd around holiday season, children with toothless grins, tugging onto their mum's coats, small chin resting onto a parents' head, teenagers moving in together in school uniforms. It's the happiest time of the year. When you move past an elderly couple, they smile and tell you make a wonderful couple.

You're just about to make a correction. This puts you in an awkward position... doesn't it?

But then Hyunjin grins toothily and says, Thank you, like it's the most amusing thing in the world. You ignore the wrenching inside your chest.

Hyunjin leans forward, his plump lips brushing against your ear. "Where did you learn to skate so well?!" There's something like excitement in his kiddish laugh aside from admiration. It's not much of a question as it is an exclamation.

"I am pretty good, aren't I?"

He laughs, doesn't let you go. "Yes, yes...really good."

Out of breath, you slow down, move your feet steadily, careful not to lose balance.

"Oh my God! It is you!"

You raise your head, blink against flakes hindering your vision. Jeongin's voice used to be thinner before. As far as you remember. Now it has a weight to it.

You let out a nervous laugh.

"And it's you..."

Jeongin's eyes travel to the arms around your waist, to the stiffened figure behind you and you immediately liberate yourself. Moving to let Hyunjin use your arm as purchase, you don't fail to notice the pinch in his forehead, a frown on his mouth.

"This is my friend Hyunjin. Hyunjin, this is Jeongin—"

"We used to go out." Jeongin smiles, forwarding his hand, which is returned with an unenthused shake and a demure reply. Hyunjin never speaks to anyone this way, not even people he claims to hate.

The former male looks to you again, "I was, uh... wondering if you'd like to go out for a cup of coffee sometime."

Things between you and him ended amicably at the event of his departure for further studies, which deprives you of awkward tension which is expected when exes meet.

Besides, a cup of coffee never hurt anyone.

Right?

Without thinking, you nod slowly, "Yeah that sounds good,"

"Text me anytime."

"Sure."

“I'll be out of your hair then," he beams. "It was very nice meeting you too, Hyunjin."

"Right."

Hyunjin, you realise, has released your arm. He leans on barricades fencing along the skating area, smiling briefly. You know it’s wrong...yet you sense that you almost need him to be upset.

Then he tilts his head back towards you, "He seems like a really nice guy," he whispers, genuinely meaning every word. Your heart sinks. "I see the appeal." Underneath the lurid glare of fairy lights brandished overhead, Hyunjin's ash hair glints like it's threaded out of silver. You wonder what he's thinking.

—

Watch every Disney movie ever made.

You never end up texting Jeongin back. Just stalling for when you're ready, you tell yourself. Even though that's not true at all.

"This brings back so many memories. My parents used to belt out A Whole New World with me, like every time we watched Aladdin."

Hyunjin wipes his face with the back of his hand, technically you’re not very sure what he’s saying exactly because he’s mumbling into a paper napkin you've passed over for the umpteenth time. You find yourself picturing a small but happy family of three, of Hyunjin in Scooby Doo pajamas and gap between his teeth. (Contrary to your previous convictions, he hasn't changed all at much, save for the teeth bit. ) It's cute.

He looks to you expectantly. Can't be the only one telling embarrassing stories.

You shrug, "I had a thing for Simba. Let's just say my mum and dad were nice enough to indulge me."

Hyunjin reaches for the remote and pauses the ending credits of Lady and the Tramp. He turns to you fully now, gives you a judgemental stare. "Simba...?" He says, "Like the...lion?"

"What? It's normal to crush on fictional characters, okay?!"

"Okay,sure," Hyunjin snorts, putting a pillow between you and him so you can't kill him. "furry."

A part of you is tempted, obviously. But the much bigger part is more invested in how he looks happier, healthier. You want to think that means something.

—

Hyunjin invites you over for movie night. It's getting colder and you keep poking him with your cold feet. There's an extra set of blankets in his cupboard, he informs you, he isn't sharing his with you — and that's when you see it.

The deflated pink donut folded to the side, his and yours sharpie inscribed initials on one side.

"Found it yet?"

You don't even notice when he comes to stand behind you. So the question effectively makes you jump out of your skin. Hyunjin has a bowl of popcorn pressed to his chest, there's a pink hair band holding his hair away from his forehead. For the lack of a answer he takes it on himself to find the source of your silence. As if you've been caught red handed.

You think this is where he'll ask you to leave, that or he'll least scold you or something. You prepare for the worst.

Hyunjin just smiles, it's a big smile that succeeds in bringing out the small dimple indented on the side of his cheek. You've never noticed before. It's kinda weird. Because when it comes to him, your attention hardly ever falters.

"You probably don't remember. That’s from Seungmin's 15th birthday,"

You want to scoff under your breath. All this time you had told yourself that you were the only one to be affected by your estranged friendship growing up. Now...the same logic colours you every bit of ridiculous.

You blink away, swallowing. Voice solemn.

"I remember." Hyunjin's gaze is heavy on your shoulders. An emotion you can't quite put a finger on crosses his delicate features. It's something between surprise and relief... something else too. You don’t understand it.

—

It's disconcerting that he can’t remember the last time he got sick. Not the usual discomfort inside his chest, not the blood, not the thorns or petals. Hyunjin's just gotten so used to it, you know? What if he gets his hopes up for no good reason? What if it just comes back?

There's no possible explanation, he explains over a hasty 3 A.M message he had to leave on your answering machine because he's freaking out.

Then Haseul texts Hyunjin, tells him she misses him. Everything's adding up. Everything's falling into place. This is what he wanted, isn't it? She loves him, she finally loves him back. That must be it. He doesn't know what to say.

But he tells you, and when he does, it sounds a lot like an apology.

—

Kiss underneath a mistletoe.

“Chan and I broke up.” She says it like it’s something he should be happy about. So when he remains quiet, it only prompts her to speak more, fill up the big mighty silences.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Look Jinnie, I know I made a mistake, but...can’t you give a second chance? Just this once?”

Hyunjin has thought about this particular moment a lot. Kissing her instead of producing a response, pulling her off of her feet and mumbling of course, of course, of course. Back then, there were little doubts in his head pertaining to her, back then he believed that she was the only one for him. The love of his life at the wrong time, in the wrong place.

Now...something doesn’t feel right.

The thing about wounds, sometimes, of the heart in particular, is when they close up, it’s hard to make head or tails of the kind of person you become in their wake. Hard to adjust. Like when he suddenly shot up 7 inches in ninth grade, a late bloomer at that, and the weight of his new sneakers felt..odd.

He glances at her and also understands what it’s like to be lonely, the constant need to compensate for it by grasping at the last straw. He used to be in her shoes too. This isn’t any different. Albeit, he isn’t exactly taken by her presence. Just that he doesn’t know if what he’s doing is right. He looks over your table a few feet away from where he’s standing. Having gone out to take a call. You notice his absence and then from your seat, do your best to locate him. (he thinks of kissing you on a bed of snow, thinks of the sizzle of your skates against ice, thinks of his list on a coffee cup and his pink water donut and it’s okay to be scared. Why did it have to be you of all people, through everything? It’s not really a work of coincidence. Not at all actually.

Maybe he just wanted it to be you.)

When your eyes do lock...seeing him with his hands in his pockets, her standing beyond the barrier as she tries to say something, you smile, even if it’s a little sad. Hyunjin thinks to the conversation some nights before. Thinks of you reminding him that there's nothing to lose at this point, that he should do what his heart tells him. That it’ll be alright, if he just takes a leap of faith. Hyunjin smiles back. Through the glassy exterior and mini water fountains running down its slanted form. The realisation is not as dramatic as he thought. It’s just late.

He tears off the false mistletoe decoration glued along the periphery of an arch.

And like always.

He takes your advice.

—

Cohorts of guests pour into the colossal hotel, heads turning in quiet admiration for bejeweled arches breaking out against buttery white architecture, the roof is impossibly naked, translucent glass baring a starlit sky to your watchful eyes. Showing little mercy to a frail chute held over your head,costumed characters wade through oceans of gossamer, twinkling silver and swaying movements to slow jazz. You prop a heeled foot up on the bar platform, which strangely resembles a pedestal, in a futile attempt to catch your breath, with clammy digits settled atop the risky surface of a marbled counter. A soft voice speaks over the ambience, uttering your name with much care. You lift your head. And there he is.

Jisung is scouring through the Spotify playlist you’ve put together for New Year’s Eve. He’s complaining about the lack of Beyoncé while your friends go around the buffet table. When he calls you, you’re sipping your drink, laughing at something Changbin is saying, his eyes brighten just at the sound of your laugh. Hyunjin isn’t surprised to see his friend taking a liking of you even though he hardly knows you. That’s just the effect you have on people.

Excusing yourself, you allow him to walk you to a less densely populated area where a stone pillar faces expensive paintings of nameless painters. With the effect of alcohol settling in and your inhibitions effectively lowered, your steps sway a little. You lean against the massive build rising from tiled floor. “So what’s up?” you murmur, the lump in your throat thickening just at the thought of him speaking the good news into existence. “I take it went well?”

Hyunjin doesn't answer. He looks distracted for a bit. Then in an instant he snaps out of his daze. “What did you mean when you said ‘once’?”

Your brows come together in inquiry.

“What?”

"When I asked you if you have ever been in love, you said ‘once’." He persists, his fingers come up to your shoulder, grazing slightly as if they’re trying to carve out words against the skin. "You weren’t talking about Jeongin.”

He knows. He’s always known. Hyunjin can’t believe he’s been so stupid.

“Took you long enough.” You let out a sardonic laugh.“Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

"It matters to me..." Hyunjin sounds offended, you gather, but he manages to quell his temper for the sake of coaxing your confession. Is he purposely embarrassing you? "I don’t think...I love Haseul anymore...I didn’t realise...I haven’t for a long time."

A big chandelier beams over withering plants pushed against the ceiling, in this poor supply of light, you can tell exactly how he looks, eyes glimmering adoringly, you've spent something-teen years of your life wondering what it's supposed to mean. And it still manages to confuse you.

"Why are you telling me this?" you ask, albeit you already know. Because funnily enough, before he got his braces removed and dyed his hair a scandalous blonde, before bucket lists and heartbreak, he was just the boy who told you he liked your stupid reindeer sweater even though it had officially made you the 7th grade laughing stock. You remember being fifteen and in love with Hyunjin. And you've never actually stopped. You need to hear it to believe it.

It drives you crazy. The way Hyunjin brushes his fingers against your cheek, shifting strands away from your eyes. But you can't help it, you've always wanted this. You lean into the caress, peering up at him as his large hand cups your jaw, thumb traversing from your tilted chin to your glossy lips like he's trying to smooth out all the creases. His voice is small, a whisper.

"Because I need you to know I think I’m falling in love with you.” he says. His palm opens and there’s a plastic mistletoe nestled between his fingers. You’re smiling and sniffling whilst his forehead comes to press against yours. Hyunjin grins. “And there’s still one last item on my list.”

“Are you seriously asking me to land one on you now?”

“Oh hell yeah.”

—

"Move."

You press your fingers against the slick, sweaty skin.

In rebuttal, Hyunjin grumbles under his breath. Only half awake, half aware that he was mumbling in his sleep. His naked chest seems to be, if it’s even possible, glued to your bare front as he sprawls out like a starfish over your body, using his gangly arms to accommodate the strange position.

Though and you know he knows it too — it’s anything but uncomfortable.

See by now, you aren't exactly a stranger to Hyunjin's sleeping habits. Or really, any habits of his.

All the windows are cracked open, moonlight percolating through a thin sheet of curtains in rendering evidence that it’s still night time. You can make out the faint sound of honking in the distance, a few stray dogs here and there, probably producing strings of complaints about the blatantly unbearable heat.

The strong stench of sweat and an aftermath of what happened before is a quick reminder of where you are, what you’re doing and that your arm’s going cold for a lack of circulation under his weight. Beads of sweat collected against his skin and trickle down the side of your face, the crook of your neck, which only prompts you to apply more force to the pads of your index and pointer — albeit it did nothing to move him, "Gross." You groan. "You're sweating like a pig!"

This comment, of all the things you've tried to get him to sleep on his side, succeeds in making Hyunjin raise his head, his grey hair matted down, a few rogue strands pushed out to fall over the unamused look in his eyes.

In an unprecedented minute of absolute clarity, something inside your stomach started to churn at the shocking sight. You’re impossibly, absolutely and nauseatingly in love with Hwang Hyunjin and the funny thing is, you don’t have to think twice to know he is too.

"Gross?" Hyunjin lowers his face to brush his pouted lips along your jaw, grinning when you let out a shaky but involuntary breath and as if he is looking to make a point with his digits traversing from your bare stomach, just along the hem of your underwear, "After all that?"

"I hate you." You say — but more like, stutter. The sound of his giggles eliciting a strange sensation in you, reverberating against your chest, knocking against his ribs and your skin, like it’s trying to reach out to you, like your bodies insist on melding into one.

"I don’t think you’re being honest, baby." He laughs, squeezing your side, coming up to plant a warm palm to your butt to repeat the action, which in turn, drew a mewl from you. “Because you looove me.” Hyunjin smirks, his finger thumbing along your throat to your chin. You think this is what all those great poets meant in endless litanies of lovers torn apart by time and war woven together in a simple caress, like a longing, like a secret. Guarded from prying eyes, greedy hands, and you keep it, you keep it. For him. With him.

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jeojahari · 3 years

Text

02 | kiss it better | myg

🠒 summary: you're one of the lucky ones, everyone else tells you. finding your soulmate the day you turn 18 isn't something that happens to a lot of people... but you and your other half are going to have to make a lot of progress to be able to tolerate each other.

or, you and yoongi can feel everything the other feels, and you're hell bent on causing each other pain.

🠒 pairing: yoongi x reader

🠒 genre: angst, fluff, e2l!au, soulmates!au, college au, crack?

🠒 warnings: profanity, implied smut

🠒 word count: 2.6K

🠒 notes: omg tysm for all the love im literally about to start happy sobbing rn TT i hope you enjoy this chapter!! <3

btw if my writing is not up to par at any time pls let me know, i'd hate to give you low effort writing TT

part 02: two band-aids

(series m. list)

"I am so fucking stupid."

"I know."

"I can't believe I just ran out of there without saying anything!"

"Ah. I can."

"How is it Yoongi, though? I don't understand! How can two people who are so obviously different and have zero chance at getting along be paired like this?!"

"Hey," Jimin places a comforting hand on your shoulder, "maybe this is the universe trying to prove that you can find love where you least expect it!"

You shoot him the nastiest glare you can conjure up in the moment. "You sound like a children's fairy tale synopsis. Please shut up."

"No, but think about it!" Jimin sits upright, pulling the nearest pillow into his lap. "You don't like him, and he probably doesn't like you. You hate coffee, and he's practically in love with it. The only reason you guys ever interact is Taehyung, who you happen to be in love with."

"I'm not in love with him!"

"Sure," Jimin rolls his eyes. "Anyways, this is literally the perfect recipe for romance. I feel like I have front-row seats to the best enemies to lovers story ever."

"Don't make me hit you."

"It's true, though," Namjoon pipes up from beside you. You're sandwiched between both of them in an attempt to extinguish the growing dread in the pit of your stomach. "You don't really know what he's like, Y/N. People aren't always what they seem at first glance."

"I had more than just a glance," you snap. "And I know him for exactly what he is. A fucking sociopath."

"I mean, he's nice enough," Jimin explains. "I've spoken to him a few times in passing. Maybe he just wasn't having a good day when you talked to him?"

You pause and think, because your friends are right. It's plausible, isn't it? Not every grumpy person you meet goes out of their way to be antisocial... but you can't shake off that feeling you've harbored ever since you first met him.

"I don't like this," you whine, hiding your face under the blanket. "I don't like him. I don't want to be his soulmate."

Namjoon chuckles. "Soulmates aren't always lovers, Y/N. If he's actually a sociopath, or you genuinely despise him after giving him a chance, you're not obligated to love him."

"True," Jimin nods. "My parents were never soulmates, but you know how well they get along. They had me, after all," he adds as an afterthought. "They couldn't have done that without loving each other."

Namjoon winces. "Okay, no. Didn't need to hear that."

You let out a frustrated groan, kicking your legs under the sheets. "I hate this," you grumble. "And I can't even do anything ab — oh!" You sit up, suddenly enlightened and an imaginary lightbulb over your head. "I can!"

"You can what?" Jimin asks, clearly confused. In response, you simply beam at him before doing an impromptu somersault over his legs and tumbling right off the bed, landing on the ground with a loud thump.

"Y/N?!"

"She's insane!"

"She's gone mental!"

"Is she having a seizure?"

"Do we need an ambulance?!"

"Is she okay?"

"Joon, I'm too broke to pay for the ambulance!"

You throw them both off of you. "I'm right here, very much alive, and very sane, thanks."

"Well, what was that, then?" Jimin demands. "If you were trying to show off your gymnastics skills, it didn't work. You look like a clumsy baby koala."

You point at Namjoon. "He's the clumsy one. And no, I wasn't trying to show you my nonexistent gymnastics skills." A huge smile spreads across your face. "I just discovered a great way to release all my frustration."

"By falling off the bed?"

"No, but yes." You lean in like you're about to tell them a secret. "You know... I bet Min Yoongi is cursing the heavens right now, isn't he? For pairing him with someone like me."

Namjoon stares at you incredulously. "Don't tell me..."

"She's going to do it anyway," Jimin tells him, before turning to you. "You're just going to hurt yourself to hurt him, Y/N? Are you for real?"

"It's perfect!"

"It's stupid, and usually I would tell you to go for it if you were planning to kick some dumbass's butt, but not if you're getting hurt in the process."

"Well, I'm doing it anyway," you say. You're 100% decided; you've just found the one part of your bond with Yoongi that delights you the most, and with that comes your singular goal: irritating him to no end. "And this isn't even that bad, Jimin. Wait until I'm on my period. Then he's really going to wish he never knew me."

Actually, you're screwed.

"Ouch!" you hiss, your body jerking at the pain that courses through your arm. You're forced to stop writing mid-word, the dark blue ink a mess on your paper due to these constant interruptions of your sudden movements. "What the fuck?!"

The girl sitting across from you raises her eyebrows at you, half concerned for your sanity.

"Sorry," you whisper apologetically. "My soulmate's a jerk. Honestly, I probably caused this, but I don't regret it at all."

She laughs, eyes turning into small crescents. "Hate at first sight?"

"More like at first conversation." You sigh, letting the pen fall from your fingers. "I don't know how I'm supposed to get along with him, let alone love him. We have absolutely nothing in common, and I'm pretty sure this dislike is mutual. Which reminds me��"

You bang your knee against the table in retribution for Yoongi's attack on his own arm, a satisfied smile on your face.

"Wow." The girl stares at you, rather taken aback. "That's some serious beef you two have got."

"Yep. Can't stand him," you confirm. "What about you? Have you found yours yet?"

"Not yet," she says, trying to look indifferent — but you catch that wistful look in her eyes. "Someday soon, hopefully."

"You'll find them," you say, the exact words you've repeated to Jimin multiple times over the years. "Time is all it takes. I hope yours is less of a jerk than mine... and if they are, I'm more than happy to instruct you in the ways of torturing them."

"Noted," she smiles, before returning to her book.

You, though, can't focus. Actually, you haven't been able to concentrate on anything lately — ever since this trivial back and forth between you and Yoongi turned into something more desperate and warlike, it's all that's ever on your mind.

Sighing, you stand up, leaving your place at the table to go fetch a book from one of the many shelves lining the opposite wall of the library. It doesn't take you long to find what you're looking for, but you immediately stumble over and hit the ground, nearly knocking your head against the wood of the shelf.

"Fuck," you hear someone curse in the next aisle. You know that voice, you realize after a few seconds, immediately ducking your head around the corner in amused curiosity.

"What'd you do to yourself this time?"

Yoongi scowls at you from the ground, as irked as always. "None of your business."

"It kind of is, actually, now that I feel it too."

"Oh, really? Where was that concern when you were hurting yourself just to get back at me for doing absolutely nothing?"

"You did it back! You have no right to be telling me what I did was wrong if you decided to do it too!"

"Why the hell did you do it in the first place?"

"Shh!" The librarian walks past the two of you, giving you a sharp glare as she replaces a few books with the ones in her hands. You nod apologetically to her, head bowed.

"You're so loud," you whisper a few seconds later, just as Yoongi gets himself off the ground and has managed to gather the books he'd dropped.

"You literally started yelling first, Y/N."

A deep frown makes its way onto your face. "You know what? I still don't understand why you're like this. Can we not have a civil conversation for once? Every time I talk to you it turns into a goddamn argument!"

"Yeah, well, maybe if you'd just minded your own business, we wouldn't be having this argument!" Yoongi pauses for a breath. "You always make it an argument, Y/N, I don't go out of my way to pick a fight with you!"

"Isn't that what you're doing right now?"

"No! I just don't understand your problem with me! Look," he says, a little calmer, "I know you don't want to be my soulmate. And I'm not particularly in love with you either. But you can at least act like I'm human too, right? Or is that too much for your inflated pride?"

"Did you just call me arrogant?" you ask incredulously, trailing after him as he walks back to where he was sitting. "You think I'm doing this because I'm conceited?"

"N—"

"Well, for your information, I'm not. I just really dislike you."

Yoongi tongues his cheek in frustration, slamming his book down onto the table. "And for what?" he demands. "I like to know it if and when I fuck up, Y/N. Stop repeating the fact that you hate me and just tell me why."

You flinch at his harsh tone and the sensation that sends a painful twinge through your palm. "You're just... you're so hard to talk to," you accuse. "Like, really? How am I supposed to wrap my head around this whole thing when I can't have a conversation with you without feeling like shit?"

He's gaping at you now. "I'm making you feel like shit? And you're not doing the same by basically trash talking me to my face?"

"I'm not! I'm just telling the truth; and besides, you asked!"

"Who are you to go around judging the way people are? Not everyone is bubbly and cheery, you know? Being grumpy for a second doesn't mean being grumpy for a lifetime!"

"Well, I can't tell, can I? Not when you always act like you hate the rest of the human race!"

Yoongi doesn't reply to you, just staring back at you for a few moments. Instead, his jaw clenches as he turns away without any kind of rebuttal.

"Alright," he says gruffly. "I'll go first."

Your eyes widen slightly as your frustration dissipates. You'd only meant to check on him out of curiosity after his fall, you hadn't intended for it to escalate to this scale at all... "Wait—"

"Don't bother to talk to me next time," he interrupts you, a hint of bitterness to his voice. "Since I always make you feel like shit, anyways."

"No, I didn't m—"

Yoongi's gone before you can give him any miserable excuse from your side, bag slung over his shoulder and that cup of coffee in his right hand. You catch a glimpse of his fingers wrapped around the cup, two band-aids covering the knuckles of his smallest digits, and you can't help but wonder... did you do that to him? All those days you spent wrapping bandages around your legs and arms, was he doing the same?

But you hate him, right? No matter how closely bound you two are, you're allowed to do this, aren't you?

You don't know.

You recall the sight of his worn out expression and sigh, shaking your head. Whatever it is about Min Yoongi that draws the worst out of you, you'll never know. All you're sure of is that apparently you're supposed to love him, apparently you're supposed to be his and vice versa. But you just can't.

As you trudge back to your seat, you notice that the girl from earlier is still there, still taking diligent notes — except her eyes now follow you, a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"I'm fine," you state. The words come out far harsher than intended, but she doesn't seem to take offense.

"Really?" she asks instead. "S'great if you are, but if you're not then you're just lying to yourself, Y/N."

You blink at her, surprised. "Huh? How'd you know my name?"

"You guys were yelling," she explains. "I could hear him from over here."

"Aish. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it." She chews on her pencil for a second, seemingly contemplating something. "Mind if I give you my two cents?"

The girl's awfully blunt and gets right to the point, and it reminds you of your friends for a moment. Something about her just makes you want to trust her, to let her in.

So you shrug your shoulders and say, "Sure."

"Second chances only come once."

"Huh?"

She nods, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You don't really know anything about him," she says. "You don't know what's happened to him before. You could be his second chance, and he probably just took a blow after that whole debacle you two had over there."

"What?"

She chuckles softly, and you find yourself rethinking your stance on the situation. She's right, she's right, your heart tells you, but your brain is saying something else entirely, and it's maddening.

"Give him a chance, Y/N. Everyone deserves one."

Hours later, you're still thinking about what a random stranger said to you at the library earlier.

Yoongi? A chance? No, thank you. You don't need to waste any more of your time on guys that aren't going to give you the time of day once they're not interested.

And yet, a small part of your conscience says otherwise. He's not just any guy, it reminds you. You're soulmates for a reason.

You're so frustrated you want to tear your hair out. "Soulmates are stupid!"

Jimin walks into your room with two cans of soda, an eyebrow raised as he tosses one to you. "Yikes, Y/N. What's gotten into you today?"

"Min Yoongi," you grumble.

Your best friend gapes at you, nearly spilling his soda all over himself. "I'm sorry, what?"

"What?"

"Already, Y/N?!"

You're confused as you take a sip of the sweet drink. "Already what, Jimin?"

He's opening and closing his mouth, eyes so wide he looks like a clown out of those children's cartoons. "You and Yoongi — you guys — I can't believe you finally got laid!"

This prompts you to spit out the liquid in your mouth, dissolving into a coughing fit as you try and regain your breath.

"There, there," Jimin says, stroking your back gently. "I won't mention it again if you don't want me to, I'm sorry. Was he a bad lay?"

"A bad what? Jimin, I don't know what you think I'm doing, but having sex with him is most certainly not on my list," you frown.

Your best friend, on the other hand, looks totally dumbfounded.

"Huh? But you answered with his name!"

You smack the side of his head gently. "That's not how idioms work, dumbass."

"Okay, sheesh, sorry," he apologizes, rubbing his temple. "But really, though. Everything okay with Yoongi?"

"Not really," you say truthfully, "but it's fine. Neither of us are expecting anything from the other."

Jimin looks skeptical as he eyes you carefully. "You sure?"

"Mhm."

He tilts his head back, draining the can of soda as he swallows. "You know, Y/N, maybe you should give the guy a chance."

There it is again, that word. The one thing everyone tells you that you need to give.

But is it worth your time? Is he worth your time? Or is he just going to walk away and leave you broken again? Maybe you're being selfish, but you'd rather spare yourself the heartbreak process than willingly go into something you know won't be good for you.

"Yeah, okay," you lie through your teeth, soda can still nearly full in your hand. "Maybe I will."

taglist: @meiadore @kimnamjoonluvbot @im-gay-no-matter-who-i-date @fangirl125reader @helenazbmrskai @min-yus @janeelizabeth1216 @chimchiekookie @chimchoom @igotnotype @beach-bitch-bitch-beach

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#yoongi #yoongi soulmate au #yoongi enemies to lovers #yoongi college au #bts #bts fanfiction #bts college au #bts soulmate au #bts enemies to lovers #fluff #angst #crack?? idk #yoongi series #part 2 #mine #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic

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a-snow-decahedron · 3 years

Text

Learn to Dodge

Ok but imagine being Frisk and sucking at dodging bullets

it's 3 am im not apologizing for this.

warning for Frisk cursing a lot, because they deserve it and also because it's really funny to think the only reason they don't have dialogue is because it would change the rating of the game

sans: haven't i done a great job protecting you?

sans: i mean, look at yourself, you haven't died a single time

sans: hey, what's that look supposed to mean? am i wrong?

Frisk: That's such bullshit.

sans: language, bucko.

Frisk: No you shut up! I died so many times i can't count and you didn't do shit a single time.

sans: you did what-

Frisk: yeah you fucking heard me. I get to swear all i want after that.

sans: *realization hitting him like a brick* look, kid, there's a lot to unpack here. but first, when did u die?

Frisk: Oh now you care, don't you? Pretty much everyone's killed me at least once. I died like 10 times to Undyne alone and you were fucking napping!

sans: *lowkey feeling regret at his words* wait... everyone? even my bro?

Frisk: nah, Papyrus' cool. Still scared the crap out of me the first time he captured me. He's a little lost about humans but he's got the spirit.

sans: the dogi?

Frisk: 3 times

sans: Greater dog?

Frisk: twice

sans: alright, i guess that's valid. but i can't think of anyone else that could do some serious damage kid. seriously, did ya die to some teens? to jerry? to a woshua?

Frisk: Say that last name again and i'm throwing a chair.

sans: oh boy, how much didja die...

Frisk: Sans, look at me in the eyes. I'm opening them wide for you. Look at me, at my armor.

sans: what about it.

Frisk: you know temmie village?

sans: yeah

Frisk: Tem sells this armor for so much money you could pay your tab at Grillby's

sans: did u pick up a fight to get the money. come on kiddo, of course you got hurt doing that.

Frisk: I'm not done yet. So outside the village there's this dark as fuck maze and it's filled with Woshues and Moldbyggs and all. But every time I died, Sans. Every time you let my soul break into little tiny pieces. Temmie sold the armor for cheaper.

sans: how the he...ck would temmie know how many times you died?

sans, to himself: i could visit the village for research, bet they know something i don't

Frisk: Hey bonehead, wanna know how much it cost?

sans: sure, go ahead

Frisk: it started at like 4500 G. I already died a few times beforehand so it was probably more expensive than that. But that fucking maze is worse than my old neighborhood in the surface, man. I died so much the price got to 1400G I think.

sans: holy crap.

Frisk: it was still too much yknow, every time I died I lost my progress so I had to keep saving every penny I got. Anyways, see what I'm wearing? How much do you think it cost?

sans: uh... 500G

Frisk: close enough, 750, it didn't go lower than that. Before you ask: no, I did not die on purpose to find out.

sans: ...

sans: how many HP do humans have?

Frisk: I learnt what HP was like yesterday, I don't think I can tell you. I have 20.

sans: ok yeah that's low. i figured you'd have like 200 at least

Frisk: I know that if I kill people it somehow increases but that's awful so next time I came back to life after dying I was back to before I murdered someone. I chose to do as much as possible to never kill again on purpose or by accident.

sans: wow, kid. you really are, uh, determined.

sans: hold on, so you can travel back in time

Frisk: *shrugs* I guess? Still hurts a fucking lot when it happens after I die. but I think I can try at will.

sans: buddy, let's do something. you can come back to a few minutes on the past right?

Frisk: Yeah

sans: ok, so hear me out. i made a codeword some time ago, so if someone tells it to me i know they're a time traveler. get closer (whisper, whisper)

Frisk: Sans what the fuck.

sans: i hope you come back and tell it to me.

--one loaded SAVE later--

Frisk: hey you told me to tell you this and if it's a fucking joke i'm going feral.

sans: language, bucko.

Frisk: (whisper, whisper)

sans: who told you this? what a liar. *Frisk's eye twitches* but yeah that's a codeword. come closer, to really gain my trust you need another code (whimsper, whimsper).

Frisk: Oh for fuck's sake.

--Another loaded SAVE file later--

sans: hey, kiddo what's with that look

Frisk: This better be the last fucking codeword or I'm going insane

sans: language, bucko.

Frisk: *says the codeword*

sans: oh, so that's what you meant. It kinda explains a lot.

Frisk: Sans listen, I'm so fucking done of doing this. Let's just go eat, ok? Time traveling doesn't help wtih my hunger, and I reaally need to take my time to just explain what just happened because I know you got questions.

sans: *mentally preparing* here we go

-- some eplanations later --

sans: wow, kid. i'm impressed. for one thing i believe you. you knew what i was about to do before i did it.

sans: and, uh, guess i can't really make the past go away for you even if i don't remember that happening but... i'll do better, ok?

Frisk: Can I really trust you?

sans: you said your stats were low, mine are even worse so it's not like i can defend u without dusting myself in the process... but we can practice dodging, until you get better. and that armor's gonna help a lot too.

Frisk: For real?

sans: yeah, i made a promise after all. i gotta do a better job at keeping it.

sans: hey, buddy... you have not told this to anyone right? you haven't told the door lady.

Frisk: No fucking way. She also killed me once, telling her would destroy her. And I think she was trying not to hurt me too but somehow I managed to walk into her flames.

sans: ... why do you trust her?

Frisk: I don't know... it's complicated. She has good intentions. Better than some people on the Surface, anyways.

sans: you are a special kid, you know that? alright buddy, we can keep talking outside. let's take a breath and then do some training. even folks with low HP like us can find a way to survive. howzabout that?

Frisk: I guess... that's alright. Yeah, that can work.

* * *

#fic #safeutdr #undertale #fanfiction #frisk #sans #swearing #dont take me too seriously #geometric thoughts #this is crack mostly #but yeah it can be wholesome too #my fingers just went with it #i am too tired to proofread it #sans the skeleton #frisk the human

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leviiattacks · 3 years

Text

Two Faced | Chapter Six

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 2.4k author note :: i have not yet proof read any of this or chapter five like i said i would, so i apologize for any mistakes. sigh im sorry for the angst in this chapter ??? T__T i suppose my own mood tends to be reflected in my writing. anyway, i’m working on requests too so if you have any feel free to send them in :D → next part is here!!

Everyone within the estate notices the way your schedule suddenly changes, half of them have no clue what you're doing seeing as it would be unfavorable for them to be aware of it in the first place.

However, after the bitter events of your first ODM-gear session you find it necessary to tell Sasha and Mikasa the truth. It's embarrassing really, and your mind disintegrates trying to find an appropriate way to tell to them about it. Sasha especially considering you've hid so much more from her.

The thought of letting them in on your lie has crossed your mind a number of times, but the image of Levi throwing you to the floor as he shakes in simmering outrage makes itself present. He will have objections against this and if he finds out you may end up in the same vulnerable position as before.

But, you don't care. If he wants to end your life for providing your confidants with honesty, so be it. It's not as if you have much of a choice.

Mikasa is sat in front of you bubbling with rage, she's disinfecting the gash at the top of your head - it has inconveniently tainted the surface of your skin after the second time you accidentally flipped in your gear.

Her breathing is heavy, evidently leaden with acidity it's become background noise to you. You're now increasingly mindful of how she's trying her best to keep calm for you. The realization that you're a liability and a hindrance to those around you makes you wince in shame.

You may as well be considered a synonym for humiliation at this point. That's how badly you're handling everything that comes your way.

Sasha doesn't say a word as she's brushing the knots out of your hair. There's nothing more you want to do than snatch the wooden paddle brush away from her, tell her she doesn't have to do this for you or commit herself to someone as unworthy as yourself. It's shameful that you let her continue - your only reason is that making her feel uncomfortable by the action is a possibility and that is the last thing you wish for.

The corners of your lips twitch upwards but you fight the desire to laugh at your pathetic circumstances.

"We aren't really in love." You finally say it. "He's never loved me." Your voice is ragged, voice trembling, breath laboured.

"You don't need to explain." Mikasa is calm in the way she approaches it all. "All we need to know is that the Duke is a pig."

Sasha has now stopped brushing out your hair now playing with the ends of your strands between her fingers.

"We expect no explanation from you it's been a long day." She gently whispers.

"Everyone deserves to rest. That includes you." Sasha's soft voice provides a kind of comfort that consoles you the way stars provide solace to the night. Your eyes fill to the brim with tears, you've desperately wished for years that someone would tell you that and mean it and here it is. She's smiling down at you, not even an ounce of irritation present in the way she addresses the situation.

Mikasa is silently caressing the top of your hand with her thumb. They aren't outraged or resentful. Even though they should be they aren't.

Heart twisting due to the prickles of relief they've given you your shoulders slump and you give in choking down a sob.

Sasha circles her arms around your quivering form and she strokes your hair. "It was hard, right?"

Attempting to blink your tears away you feebly nod. The weight of it all being kept to yourself has been unbearable. Tolerating this unwelcoming and cynical actuality on your own has been one of the hardest obstacles to come your way. To be swept off your feet and loved with such sincerity only to then be thrown away by that man like a rag-doll. Only to be coerced into doing what he wants or to face the music and face an early death. It's truly had a deeply somber affect on you.

You take one profound breath and you begin to tell them your story.

There are moments at which Mikasa's grip on your hand strengthens in a mix of frustration and protectiveness.

Eventually, at some point Sasha tries to secretively wipe a tear away when you recount Levi's blackened, subdued gaze the day he reverted back to his old self and announced you would never be a wife of his.

It's all too overwhelming for you when you tell them you're only alive sitting in this bed because you've bartered your freedom for a chance at existence. It's always been that way, you had to give, in order to receive, but this is one of the rare occasions you don't feel that way. The beating of your heart steadies, you're thankful for the way they listen and ask for nothing in return.

You stare at them once you're finished worried that you've overloaded them with too much information, you didn't even think to believe how they'd feel associating with a speculated "witch".

"You believe me right?" Your hoarse voice is thickened with worry.

You feel Sasha nod above your head.

"We believe you."

Staring at her glossy eyes you turn to look at Mikasa, she holds your arm in place and squeezes your hand reassuringly, it's enough to convey that she too has faith in you.

The days since have been passing excruciatingly slow. The day after the ordeal with Levi you can sense the way the other cadets look at you. It's a combination of distaste and pity. They stay far away from you, don't want to pair up with you during group exercises or activities - you aren't annoyed at all. In fact it's in their best interest they stay far away from your uncoordinated stiffness.

Oluo seems to feel horrible for challenging you to use ODM-gear when your core strength was not to the best of your abilities, he mumbles an apology for contributing to the gash on your forehead but you tell him it's quite alright and you assure him it isn't his fault that you thought you would be able to master the mechanism of the gear so early on.

On one of your more empty days you finally find the time to make your pit-stop at Hange's office, knocking on their door a breezy "Come on in!" is the response you're given.

To your surprise Levi is sitting there with a map and pen in his hand. Unmoving, his attention is solely on the plans in front of him. Ignoring him you inquire what it is Hange wanted to so desperately discuss with you but they wave it off saying the issue they had has now been solved.

Turning to walk away you don't divert your stare to Levi, simply knowing he's in one piece is good enough for you.

Other than that the repetitive pattern has stayed the same. It's a cycle of waking up, skipping breakfast, training for hours on end, returning completely exhausted, bathing and ultimately passing out in bed almost as soon as you've made contact with the mattress.

Levi and you awkwardly have to share the same bedroom at the estate to avoid any rumours of a broken marriage spreading. You don't understand why it matters, the "rumours" would be factual and true.

At first he sleeps in his office using the excuse of paperwork and planning attack formations but he knows that excuse will soon run dry. Later he utilities one of the armchairs in your room and sleeps in it for an hour or two, it concerns you how he's barely sleeping now, but you aren't vocal about your worry. Last but not least today is what you call a hollow night, the other half of your King sized bed is vacant, you haven't caught a single glimpse of Levi all day despite foolishly being on the look out for him. These nights are the worst.

Silence comes hand in hand with the peace and tranquility of the dark but that isn't what you feel, nevertheless you make the effort to sleep knowing your body will thank you for it when you train tomorrow.

Just as you're at the brink of drifting softly to sleep you feel the weight on the other side of your bed shift, you nearly jolt but your body's survival instincts halt the action. Suddenly, you are eerily alert of your surroundings. This isn't Levi, he'd never dare to come anywhere near you in general, but then shock renders you in place, he's fatigued by your presence perhaps it is him and this is finally your time.

That doesn't sound right to you. Levi is a man of his word if he wanted to go through with it he would have long ago.

A warm palm embraces your cheek and you second guess your previous line of thought. Instead of Levi Is this Lev?

This confirms your suspicions. The magic has yet to fully dwindle away. It's faltering.

Eyes fluttering open with caution you want to tell him how you've missed his presence greatly for this will be short lived. Lev will come and go. Even if you know it'll only obstruct your progress you wish to tell him you're grateful for the affection he gave you when he was around, but as you open your eyes half lidded he presses you into his chest.

The pace of your heart erratically springs, his breath is tickling the back of your neck. You can hear the blood drumming in your ears.

It pains you but you have to push him away.

But when you begin to emphasize the distance between the two of you he doesn't give you the opportunity to speak again, he flares up in want and presses his lips against yours, kisses you hard. You automatically reciprocate and your nerves cause your teeth to accidentally clatter against his.

His fingers run through your hair, frantically, desperately.

You'll be scolded for this later but it's not like you care and it's not like you can talk Levi out of it now. Not when he's like this.

An uncontrolled breathe leaves you and he lightly cups your jaw slipping his tongue inside. It tastes of whisky, you immediately recoil.

He's intoxicated.

"I'm sorry. Go to bed Lev." Your plain response is enough to worry him.

He holds onto your wrists and tugs at you. "My love?" His adoring stare is enough to make you crumble.

This isn't playing out how you want, you can't do this, not right now. You refuse to make this harder on yourself. Turning around you face away from him.

"I'm tired."

But Levi refuses to make it any easier on you.

He pulls you in by the torso again, handling you like a delicate flower.

He asks again.

"Whatever is wrong? I'll handle it for you."

It's abnormal hearing him talk to you with positive regard or even offer to help you. Repeatedly you warn yourself don't give in. The pace your head throbs at is in time with your heart, you're finding hope in the hopeless if you tell him your feelings.

"My Lord. Please leave me alone. Please. When the Sun rises you will regret this, as will I." You're unrestrained in your pleading now, your wailing fills the chambers you and Levi occupy.

"Please." Your voice is straining and urgent.

Thankfully, the maid's quarters are far, they won't hear the way you cry out for him to put an end to this torturous mind game.

Face slippery with hushed tears the tearing of your heart can not be heard. Bloodshot eyes blur your vision, you can't see. You don't think you want to, not when he firmly grips onto you like his life depends on it.

Then. The air changes, he's still holding onto you but his arms stiffen. He feels the way your back shivers against his chest. How your choked, cracked gasps for breath are an indication of how he's destroyed any chances you've had of sleeping.

Wordlessly, he lets go of you. Not a single word is uttered. The only sound amongst the alienating silence is his footsteps.

You hate this.

He closes the door behind him as he departs.

No, you hate him.

An unusual amount of sunlight compared to usual floods into your room and you have to practically block it out with one of your arms. Stirring awake your eyes burn, the whites must still be raw and inflamed.

This is usually the amount of sunlight you'd expect to see midday. Stifling a yawn you look around you. Then it hits you. It's not morning.

It's midday.

Your hands fly to your mouth trying to swallow your gasp down your throat, you're in hot water. It's not permitted for anyone to miss training unless they're excused by one of the higher ups. It's not as if you've missed a hour of training either, you've missed four.

There's no way to explain this, no way at all.

After everything he put you through last night the least Levi could have done was wake you up or at least order one of the maids to do so. It's his fault you slept at that ungodly hour.

An incessant knocking begins and you're almost certain it's Levi who's come to scold you for missing training. For some reason you can't make yourself care about his possible annoyance just yet.

"I'm coming in!"

You let out a short sigh. Thank Heavens it's only Sasha.

The door flings open and she pulls you out of bed not giving you the chance to greet her good morning.

"What have you gone and done???"

Awkwardly you chuckle. "I slept in and forgot training." Her face contorts and twists not knowing what expression is appropriate to express her bewilderment.

"No, no. WHY DID THE DUKE LET YOU OFF TRAINING TODAY?? IT'S OUT OF CHARACTER."

At a complete loss for words, open mouthed all you can manage to do is clear your throat trying to keep your jaw from dropping. "He what?"

#levi ackerman #levi #aot #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan levi #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #duke levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi angst #levi fluff #levi smut #levi fanfiction #leviiattacks

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