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shootingstarwritings · 3 years

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Hans Off the Computer!

The human mind, when boiled down to its most fundamental building blocks, was simply a system of ON and OFF switches. In that sense, it is functionally identical to that of a computer’s mainframe. When putting both of those thoughts together, the idea that the human brain can be completely digitized and transferred through networks isn’t too far-fetched an idea.

At the very least, that was the thought of Hans Hopper, a freelance software engineer. Currently, he was working at a computer repair shop to get some extra money and to kill time between projects—including his own.

“It could be possible,” he voiced his dreams to his boss, Carl, as they took a look at some guy’s gaming PC. The components were state of the art, some not even out in the market yet. Just the graphic card and motherboard made Hans drool at the sight. Streamers get all the luck, he thought. The owner, some small-name star with a big ego, took poor care of his machine, leading to landing on Carl's shop.

“Y’know, Hopper,” Carl began as he cleaned some dust off of the PC’s parts, “I think if you put that head of yours outta the clouds and into reality with the rest o’ us, you’d really take off. Least you wouldn’t be stuck in this freelancing business and get a real job like some o’ your peers.”

“And be like those corporate suck-ups?” Hans snorted. “As if. I’m not gonna be another cog in the machine. Now being in a machine." He grinned, already fantasizing about the things he'd do if he could ditch his flawed, physical form for a future full of infinite potential inside of a network. "That's what I'm after."

“Least those corporate suck-ups can afford their own places,” Carl sighed. “You’re still living with roommates at, what, 30?”

“...27, actually.”

Grinning, Carl said, “And there’s my point. At your age, Hans, I--” he paused as his phone began to ring with an irritatingly catchy tune. “Aw, shit. Lost track of time.” Before Carl ducked to the back of the store and towards the hall that led to his home, he glanced back and said, “Can you wrap up here and close the store, Hans?”

“You got it, boss," Hans said, waving him off. "Take care." Carl left without an answer, and Hans found himself alone with a PC he could only dream of. "Well well," he said, digging into his pocket and pulling out a flash drive. "Looks like it's just you and me from now on. Let's see if what's under the hood's enough to get my program running."

While Carl had a point that Hans' dream was beyond the capacity of current human technology, the world of sci-fi and fantasy lacked such rules. "Just like that ol' title," he muttered to himself as he inserted the flash drive into a USB drive. "A machine can't act like a human mind, but it can calculate runes with no trouble. Sometimes when we can’t use tech to get somewhere, we gotta use shortcuts.”

This PC was his best chance to experiment on his little program to see if it worked. After checking to make sure the drives were all up to date and the whole thing was running smoothly, Hans executed his program. A few keystrokes later, a magic circle formed on the screen. “Let’s gooo—WOAH!”

Although Hans should have figured that the ritual wouldn’t be painless, having his physical form ripped apart and turned into data was nothing short of excruciating. Reforming himself later wouldn’t be any less unpleasant, but he could never turn down the chance to become data and revolutionize the field of… magic? Science? Magitek?

He witnessed his fingers slowly fade as if turning into dust and flow like a stream of water into the screen. As the entirety of his arms completely disappeared, sprites that resembled arms appeared on the screen. "L-Least it works?" Hans nervously said as more and more of his body faded away.

Eventually, Hans' ability to feel, taste, hear, and see waned as his body fully waxed into the computer. The sensation… was nothing. There were no nerves or sensors to feel with, but he could understand the data that his mind had access to. Overwhelming, yet the sensation felt like precious wine on his lips.

The network… Though small, Hans was amazed at how he could travel through the network of the shop—including Carl’s personal PC.

“No, no,” Hans realized he could hear. He saw Carl through the uncovered camera and heard him through a microphone that remained plugged in. For a tech-savvy guy, Carl was real lenient in terms of privacy. "C'mon, Elise, be reasonable here. We got a meeting with the divorce lawyer tomorrow. Can’t you have your little wine party another day?” Carl rolled his eyes as he pocketed his phone. “Fuckin’ bitch. Can’t give me a break.”

And now, as Carl sat down to work on his computer, Hans realized he could attempt the other upside of the ritual. With his mind now data, he could reach out and override the "data" that was another's consciousness.

“What the hell am I supposed to—MMGPHF!”

It wasn’t the most graceful exit, but Hans couldn’t deny the results. Black tendrils—an unnatural amalgamation of data and flesh flew from the screen and landed on Carl’s face, causing him to fly back a few inches. His body twitched and convulsed, back forming a C, as Hans’ essence flowed into each of Carl’s orifices. Carl’s feet kicked at the ground, fingers gripping his chair’s armrests, as Hans’ essence attacked and invaded his brain.

“A-Ah, ahhh.” Carl helplessly moaned as Hans override any freedom and control over his body. After a few painful seconds with his back arched and his toes curling as the sensation of being overtaken overwhelmed him, Hans awoke in his boss’ body.

“Well, well,” said Hans, feeling his new arms. “Not exactly my first choice for a body, but not a bad test drive.” He stretched in the comfortable office chair, a gift from another customer. “Man, Carl, for an old guy you don’t feel half-bad.” Now realizing that he was alone, a mischievous thought crossed Hans’ mind. “Well, got some time to keep doing some more research on my little program. Maybe I can find a way to hack into other networks." Grinning to himself, he stood up and slowly stripped out of Carl's clothes. First, the shirt came off as the nipples hardened in the cool air, then the shoes were chucked to the side to allow his feet to breathe. The pants came off next, and finally, the underwear flew across the room as Hans embraced his newfound potential—and his borrowed pole.

“Who knew old farts like you still had crazy stamina like this!” Hans cried out, furiously and desperately thrusting into his grip as he jacked off his boss’ body. “F-Fuck! Fuuuuuck!” Hans let out a roar as he came all over his boss’ keyboard. “W-Woah. Gonna have to clean that up later. Dunno where he keeps his tissues, but...” Hans paused and grinned once more. This wasn’t his body, so what the hell? He bent down and began to lick the keys clean, making sure to savor his boss’ taste with each slurp.

The next day, he sat in his boss' room, giving another client's laptop a check-up. It was a Sunday and so the shop was closed, but Hans' mind was far too wired to relax by simply lying around the place. No, tinkering around and keeping his hands busy was how he would wind down.

Although, Hans remained without any clothes. The feeling of the chair against his naked skin was intoxicating. Never in his life had Hans worked in the nude, but he might have to start doing it more often as he tried on new skins. For now, though, might as well enjoy Carl’s life for a few more hours before trying on someone new.

Hans’ roommates were certainly appealing prospects.

#male possession #dilf possession #male body possession #sci-fi possession #computer possession

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gingerxarmy · 3 years

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Falling In Love MV&LN

a/n - this is an midnight thing of me trying to cope with stuff. hope you enjoy! hah

Reader x Max Verstappen & Lando Norris

Inspired by; Hopeless romantics - James TW

Words: 1800+

You having falling out of love with one, but, falling in love with an other.

Some People say the art of love is one of the most beautiful things in the world. The process of pinning after one person, to grow with them and if you're lucky, have them with you until your days are count. But all beautiful things have a dark behind. The moon, which is one of the most beautiful and calm things we have on this planet, has a dark side. No-one can know what's on it for sure.

Love has actions and words. Your significant other can give you flowers, but they can also give you bruises. You can have sweet nonsense whispering in your ear when you are watching a movie, or they can tell you lies you so desperately want to hear.

But the most painful thing about love is when one of the two people is falling out of it. What are you supposed to do when the exciting feelings are fading away, when you no longer can have them staying with you. When whatever you do or say are no longer enough. The heartache is one thing everyone experiences in the name of love. Even if you are living a loving life, the death you vow will make sure you are apart.

But when you are the one who can’t stand to be with him anymore. All you wanted to do was wish for a moment to make sure you could get into an argument and get him to hate you, just so this wouldn’t hurt as much as it did. He had been perfect. Everything he had done was for your preference, so you could be happy. But in the end, your feelings faded. It hurt, it really did, but when one goes - another comes along. It’s always a shift. The worst part was that they were friends, best friends even.

You’ll never forget about the time you meet him and how inlove you were from the first eye contact. You had met Max one evening in Monaco when you were on a vacation with three of your girl friends. You had been walking on the streets of Monte Carlo in search of a Café. After almost thirty minutes walking in circles you decided on Scala Green Café, neither of you had heard about it before, but it was calm and in need of something to drink thanks to the heat outside you took a table and ordered a drink each.

You had lovely conversations about the city you are vacationing in and as usual, for four single ladies, it turned quickly to the cute guys you’ve seen on your walk earlier. You had all agreed on one particular man you had seen not too far from the café who had taken home the price of the most handsome one. With his broad muscle building and determined steps it had made it quite hard to not look at him. His face and hair was hidden under the cap he had been wearing, which was a shame, you all agreed on.

You had a nice conversation on planning the remainder of your trip when the doorbell for the Café called. Three muscular men in t-shirts and shorts made their way to the cashier. Probably asking for a table. Your conversation died down when the waiter led them to a table in your direction. Looking after them when they passed, not really caring if they were aware that you and your friends were staring or not, and trying not to droll.

“What is it with handsome men in this city?” One of your friends asked. Your group started to giggle but you soon interrupted when the doorbell called once more and the man with the cap stepped in through the door, looking around before seeing the three men who just walked next to you. The difference with this man was that he could feel you staring and your eyes meet for a short moment. But long enough for you to start to blush, hiding from his gaze you took a sip from your drink.

“You made eye contact with him. Didn’t you?” Your friend to the right of you said and gave your shoulder a squeeze. You nod your head and turn around trying to find the guy who just walked past. But to your luck/misfortune he was already looking at you, and for a second time in less than ten minutes you had made eye contact and he had made you blush.

That café wisit had ended with a tissue with a phone number and a name, Max. You could never have thought that two moments of eye contact and a tissue could give you two amazing years of love. Max Verstappen had taught you about Formula One and everything about the sport that you now loved with a passion. When race weekends didn’t clash with your job you would be with him for support and for yourself and the adrenaline rush from watching the race from the teambuilding.

Your relationship was amazing, you had your fights like every couple had. But when the new rookie trio came along in 2019 and you found yourself hanging with when Max went out with the youngest one of them three. Lando Norris had become a big part of your life when he and Max started to play games and stream together in their spare time. And when you got invited to chat with the two when they were playing games, things started to escalate.

It wasn’t something big, Max knew you two were close friends, but when normal conversations started to become more flirty and when you started to find yourself thinking about Lando more often and not only in a platonic friendship way you started to think about your relationship with Max.

And here you are, trapped between two wonderful men with a mind drawn between them two. Would you just block Lando and try to find your happiness with Max and try to fall in love again? Or would you talk to Lando about what you feel for him and tell Max how you’re no longer in love with him. Whatever you come up with you couldn’t get rid of the feeling of disappointing one or not both of them.

That evening Max felt something was up with you. You, who always talked about your day, were now sitting quiet and not eating your food. Of Course he would get worried, you knew it.

“What’s wrong, love,” he asked. Love, it hurt.

“I think we need to talk.” You pushed away the food. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yes, of course. I’ll always love you. What’s this about?” He reached forward for your hand but you couldn’t bring yourself to let him take it. Instead you put your hands in your lap and let your gaze rest on them. Fiddling with your fingers.

“I will always love you Max. But I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore. I’m so sorry, you haven’t been anything but lovely and kind to me. But I think our time is up.” A single tear escaped your eye when you lifted your gaze and met Max’s eyes.

“I had already guessed it, even though I didn’t want to believe it. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. And he would be really lucky to have you.” This time you let him take your hand. Releaf wash over you and you give him a broken smile. “And I’ve been texting this girl, and before you think anything, no. It was always friendly but now when I know for sure that you like Lando I may give her and I a try.”

“I think you should,” you give Max’s hand a squeeze before letting his hand go, giving yourself one more moment before letting him go.

“You and Lando need to invite me to your wedding later on, alright?” You two start to laugh at this. The eaze going conversation coming back between the two of you.

A couple of weeks later you followed Max to Monaco GP, where everything started between the two of you, your journey could have an ending there years later. He had invited the girl he had been talking to as well, or, you had invited the girl he had been talking to because you were dying to know how had his heart now when you no longer had it. She was kind and you two shared a couple of laughs during the grand prix weekend. Max was in safe hands.

“Okay, so, Lando’s waiting!” Max said later that evening. Max, Carlos and Lando had shared the podium today and you couldn’t be more proud of the three of them.

“Isn’t it meant for you to be out celebrating your first podium and win in Monaco?” You say before giving him a hug. Even though you no longer are a couple you are great friends. The platonic love is still there.

“Yes, and you are coming with. And so is Kelly. Come on!” Max dragged you off to a car where the others were waiting. And Max, being the matchmaker he is, made you sit next to Lando on the short way to the Bar someone of the drivers had shoosed. Probably Daniel if you could say it yourself.

“You and Max broke up?” Lando dared to ask later when the group of people had gotten a couple of shots.

“Yeah, our time together ran out. It was mutual so no hard feelings or anything. And I’m really happy about it. I really thought we were going to end on bad terms. And now I’m rambling!” You put a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from talking. But all Lando could do was laugh. Oh, God, that laugh.

“So if you two are no longer a couple I can do this without having to risk my head.” Lando leans in and you two share a kiss. Your hand finds its way over to his curls and his hands make it way down your back, making you move closer to him.

“If I was you I would still be careful of your head,” you say as you make eye contact with Max.

“If you're breaking her heart, Mate. I’m breaking you!” Max screams over the loud music in the club and makes the others look in your direction. “Oh, and don’t forget about that wedding invitation you promised me!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, happy that you got the man your heart wanted and still have your best friend by your side. You lean in and steal a kiss from Lando once more before leaning into him, laying your head on his shoulder and start to speak with the people you are out celebrating for the night.

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen one shot #formula one #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris fanfiction #ln4 #mv33 #f1 imagine

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atlabeth · 3 years

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transferred part eight - atla smau

TRANSFERRED - zuko x fem!reader

masterlist | part 7 | part 9

summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know he’s falling for you as well.

wc: 4.5k

warning(s): alcohol, gross guys, cursing, ppl getting drunk, suggestive themes, some pining, y/n being dumb of ass

a/n: i’ve been in a weird place with my writing so that’s why this took longer, it was a combination of writers block and lacking confidence in my writing so sdkjfhs. also for the ending? im sorry. but also im not

taglist: @ourbestfriend-mishacollins @lil-lex1 @xxshad0wxb1rdxx @zuko-is-the-sun @akiris @irohs-teapot @thatarthistorynerd @charlenasaxen @minninugget @marvel-ousnesss @count-thotticus @what-ye-egg @furblrwurblr @thesstuff @mariachiii @ietss @dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee @xbarrjallenx @tommy-braccoli @dreamsluvrr @floofybread

~~~~~~

“SOKKA, WE HAVE TO LEAVE IN FIFTEEN MINUTES! NOW OPEN THE DOOR OR I WILL BREAK IT DOWN MYSELF!” You banged your fist against the door for what felt like the hundredth time, and it seemed to finally work. The door swung open and your brother came out holding his hands up placatingly. You had to give it to him, his hair looked good, but with all the time he had spent styling it in there you would be disappointed if it wasn’t a masterpiece.

“Calm down, Y/N! You just don’t appreciate the art that goes into this,” he said with an exaggerated gesture to himself. You rolled your eyes and pushed past him, closing and locking the door behind him to make sure that no one would disturb you while you got ready. One downside to rooming with all boys was that no one knew how to knock, so you had to be extremely vigilant in making sure that no one walked in on you.

You had spent a majority of your time picking out the perfect outfit for tonight after you and Zuko had gotten home. It was harder than you thought it was going to be to find something that said, ‘I’m available but not too available, I’m approachable but not too approachable, and also this is hot’, but after a lot of rifling through your closet you decided on a black backless top and navy blue jeans, something that looked good but did not warrant all the time spent searching.

It didn’t take nearly as long to do your hair and makeup, maybe because you were rapidly running out of time, but you decided to just go with a simple look that brought out your eye color and what you usually did for parties for your hair.

You nearly stabbed yourself in the eye with your mascara wand when you heard banging on the door. “Y/N, WE HAVE TO LEAVE IN FIVE MINUTES! NOW OPEN THE DOOR OR I WILL BREAK IT DOWN MYSELF!”

“Sokka, if you’re gonna yell at me then BE ORIGINAL!” You called back as you finished your eyes up. You shoved all the products back into your makeup bag then checked your hair one last time before leaving the bathroom.

“How do I look, boys?” You walked into the kitchen and grabbed your purse off the island, testing the waters with the heels you had decided to wear last minute. They were only a couple inches but it had been a while since you wore them, and you would prefer if you didn’t fall over in front of every hot person at this party.

Sokka followed you into the kitchen after nearly getting hit by the door, his tone somehow exasperated already. “You look fine. Now can we please get going? It’s one thing to be fashionably late, but we can’t be LATE late.”

“I love the heels, Y/N,” Aang gave you a grin and two thumbs up which you returned.

When you looked to Zuko for his reaction, you were surprised to see a faint blush dusting his cheeks and his eyes wider than usual as they lingered on you. “You look- um- wow. You look great. Are you sure you won’t get cold?”

You felt your face heat up and you smiled, subconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I guess I can just borrow your jacket if I need to,” you teased with a wink as you walked past him. “Come on Sokka, I’ll race you for shotgun!”

“Oh, that is so cheap—!” Before you knew it, the two of you were sprinting out the door, pushing each other

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Zuko,” Aang said jokingly once you were out of the apartment, the distant yells of you and your brother bouncing through the hallway. “Y’know, you could probably make a move tonight. I think she’s into you!”

“I- that’s not- I wasn’t- we’re just friends!” Zuko stammered as he picked up his keys from the table, finally snapping out of his stupor.

“Whatever you say, Sifu Hotman!”

“I don’t— it’s not like that!”

~~~~~~

It was a quick ride over to the apartment with Sokka’s instructions — who had somehow beat you to the car winning shotgun (you blamed your heels) — and soon you were in front of Apartment B29 knocking on the door. A man about your age opened the door, and you blinked in surprise as you were hit by the wave of noise coming from inside. Sokka pushed past you and did a very complicated handshake with the guy before clapping him on the back.

“Kento, how are ya doin’? I brought my roommates with me, is that cool?”

“Of course, man! The more the merrier!” Sokka grinned and high-fived him and the four of you moved inside, all of your senses assaulted by a barrage of.. everything.

It was a surprisingly active party in a surprisingly big place, but you supposed that had to be the case for someone to throw something this size. Your eyes immediately started drifting around, searching for your friends that had arrived before you, and you started tugging on Aang’s shirt and pointing. “There they are! Come on!”

You practically dragged the poor boy behind you as your brother and Zuko followed behind in a less forced way, and you barreled into Suki, each knocking the air out of each other with the strength of your hugs.

“You’re here!” Suki looked at your outfit and whistled. “And you look fantastic? This is the Y/N that I have been missing!”

You laughed and pulled away from her, giving one armed hugs to both Katara and Toph before settling in while everyone else greeted each other. “Gotta make a good first impression on BSSU guys, right?”

“Oh, I think you already have,” Katara smirked, her eyes flicking over to Zuko for a second before training back on you.

You furrowed your brows, about to question Katara further, when Suki gasped and grabbed your hand.

“Oh, speaking of guys! There are a couple guys in my psych class tht are here that I think you’d really be into. Come on!” Suki started pulling you away and you looked back at the rest of the group with an amused expression before giving in and running away with her.

Katara groaned, looking at Toph with desperation that she couldn’t see. “That girl is hopeless. How am I supposed to do my matchmaking if she’s trying to set her up with random guys?”

“Guess you’ll either have to try harder or let it go, sugar queen.”

“You know I’m not letting this go.” Katara could’ve kept going on about it, but thankfully for Toph, Aang slung his arm around Katara’s shoulder and kissed her on the cheek.

“Come on, Katara! Let’s start this party off right.” The two of them grinned at each other and went off to the midst of everyone, no doubt to dance together.

“Zuko? You there?” Toph questioned.

“Yeah?” Parties were very much not Zuko’s thing, so he didn’t exactly know what he was going to do now that everyone had split up.

Toph elbowed him and started walking through the crowd, Zuko following hurriedly after her as he rubbed his shoulder. “What was that for?”

“It’s how I show affection.” Toph grabbed onto his hand so that she wouldn’t run into everything in her way, and continued walking. “Now come on, let’s do something! Sokka’s talking with his boys, Y/N is probably off hitting on some guys while Suki encourages her, and Katara and Aang are doing some dumb couple stuff. Which means that we have to do something.”

Zuko chuckled and shrugged. “Sure.” Hopefully Suki wasn’t serious about setting you up. Of course, he didn’t like you like that, but you were too good for the kind of guy that you would find at this kind of party. He supposed that he was that kind of guy because he was here, but he was different, right? You wouldn’t see him in that light—

“Ow! Why’d you do that again?” Zuko was sure he was going to have a bruise if he hung out with Toph for the rest of the night.

“Because I can tell that you’re thinking of something stupid.”

“I am not—

“Zuko, I can’t even see you and I know you’re lying.”

He was suddenly too distracted to focus on Toph calling him out because he saw you, talking animatedly with a couple of guys and Suki by your side. They all started laughing at whatever you said, and your smile, even from that far away, made his heart flutter. But for some reason, seeing you with those boys made him feel.. annoyed.

He didn’t even realize he was clenching his fists until Toph hit him, albeit softer, on the shoulder. “Lighten up on the grip, sparky!”

“Sorry,” he said, blinking a couple of times. “Let’s keep going.”

This was going to be a long night for Zuko.

~~~~~~

You had separated from the group to get another drink, having already finished your cup in the time it took to tell a couple stories. You pursed your lips and picked a beer up from the cooler, then placed the cap on the edge of the table and slammed down on top of it with your other hand. The bottle cap fell off and you took a sip, pleased that it worked. It was a party trick you had picked up when you first moved to Kyoshi, and though using a bottle opener was loads easier, this was more fun.

“Nice move.” You turned around, surprised when you heard a voice behind you, nearly spilling your drink in the process. It belonged to a tall, brown haired boy with some interesting eyebrows and a toothpick in his mouth.

“Thanks.” You smiled lightly and moved to walk away, but he blocked your path.

“What, do I not get a name?” His words had an air of cockiness to them, and he leaned against the wall next to the table. “I’m Jet.”

“Ohhhh, you’re Jet.” You took a sip of your drink to mask your grimace and rolled your eyes, already looking around for Suki to get away to. Your sister had told you about her experiences with this guy, and though there was some irony in him hitting on you all these years later, you weren’t into it. “Yeah, no thanks.”

You started to walk away but he wrapped his hand around your wrist and pulled you back to him, causing you to let out a small yelp. You were already kinda tipsy, so you got much closer than you would’ve liked (being in the same room with him was too close to be fair) and he smirked at you. Now this, this was definitely how you wanted your night to go.

“Come on darling, just give me a chance. I’m not that bad.” He was attractive, you would admit that, but the way he was acting was a red flag that you weren’t going to miss again.

“Oh, I’m sure you are.” You tried to pull your wrist out of his grip but he wasn’t budging. You glared up at him and set your jaw. “Do you really want to do this tonight? Because I’ve got time, buddy.”

“I’m just asking a pretty girl for her name, it’s not a crime. Of course, I’ll also go for your number.” He was smooth as ever, unfazed until another voice cut in.

“She said no. Now leave her alone, Jet.”

You felt his grip loosen on your wrist and you immediately pulled away, looking over to see who had saved you from the fight that you were sure was imminent. Your eyes lit up when you saw that it was Zuko, and you backed over so that you were on his side. You noticed he ever so slightly positioned himself in front of you.

“Ah.. You two a thing?” The confidence from before was replaced with what looked like anger with a hint of jealousy.

“No, he’s just a guy that knows what ‘no’ means,” you shot back. Now you wanted to fight, but Zuko took your hand and shook his head.

“He’s not worth it. Let’s go, Y/N.” He started walking away and you followed, but were unable to resist one more jab at that cocky jerk.

“I’m not into jerks that fuck over my sister!” You yelled over your shoulder as Zuko pulled you away. The two of you emerged out of the apartment onto the empty balcony, and you inhaled the fresh air.

“Thanks for that. I think I would’ve started a fight if I stayed there for another second.” You tipped back the rest of your beer and frowned, twirling the bottle between your fingers before setting it on the ground next to you. “God, this sucks. Why am I drinking it again?”

“Because you’re a broke college kid that wants to get drunk at a party thrown by other broke college kids?” Zuko offered helpfully.

You hummed in agreement and leaned your back against the railing, pointing your finger at him. “Right on the mark, mister.”

He smiled as he leaned against the wall, conveniently ignoring the chair right next to him. You figured it was for his ‘cool guy image’, but it was once again doing it for you. “He didn’t hurt you or anything, right?”

You snorted and shook your head, running a hand through your hair as you looked into the night. The party was still going on strong back inside, but it was nice to get away for a moment, especially with Zuko. “Nah. If he tried anything, he would be the one getting hurt.”

Zuko chuckled, pushing himself up from the wall and walking over to you. Another thing you had noticed from living with him and being his classmate — this boy could not sit still. “I believe that wholeheartedly.”

“Does Jet have something against you?” You questioned, casting a glance at him. “Because as soon as you showed up, he looked really angry.”

“We have some.. messy history. Some stuff that happened in high school that he can’t let go.” Zuko stared down at the ground and you nodded, taking that as a sign to not push further.

“It’s like the only guys I attract are douchebags,” you groaned, letting your head fall back to stare at the sky. “But seriously, thank you. You never know how guys like that get when you reject them.”

“Anything for you.” Zuko’s eyes widened when he realized what he said and he tried to cover it up with a cough, stammering to fix it. “B-because you’re one of my roommates! And my friend! And it’s not like I would just leave one of my friends to fend by themselves especially when they’re drunk—”

“Shhhhhh.” You waved your hand in front of his face, trying to get him to stop. “You, my good sir, talk too much.” You let out a laugh at his expression and mimicked his stance, resting your forearms against the railing and shivering a bit as a gust of wind blew by. “Just.. stand here for a little with me. Appreciate the stars,” you crooned with a flourish of your arm.

You both stood there in comfortable silence, the sounds of the party raging behind you reduced to mere background noise as you became lost in your surroundings. It was just you, Zuko, and the sky.

“It’s beautiful,” you mused.

“It is,” he agreed. When you glanced at him, you saw that Zuko’s eyes had never left you. Your face immediately heated up and you averted your gaze with a small smile, self-consciously brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. This time when you shivered you felt something being draped around your shoulders and your eyes widened in surprise when you saw it was Zuko giving you his jacket. You prayed to any god that would listen that he couldn’t see how flushed your cheeks were.

“What are you doing?”

“You did say you would borrow mine if you got cold, right?”

You hummed thoughtfully and slipped your arms into the sleeves, already feeling warmer. Whether it was from not having your whole back exposed or wearing something of Zuko’s though, you didn’t know. “I guess I did.”

When you met his gaze again, it was like some invisible force was stopping you from looking away. All of the sounds of the party faded away, and it was like the world around you had stopped. It was just you and Zuko, and you unconsciously started leaning forward.

You jumped and nearly screamed when you felt a buzz against your back pocket, letting out a relieved breath when you realized it was only your phone. You pulled out your phone and tried your hardest to look absorbed in it, trying to pretend like you weren’t just about to try and kiss Zuko right then. That moment was completely and wholly ruined.

“Ugh,” you rolled your eyes as you read the text on your phone and started to walk back inside. “Apparently Aang and Toph have gotten into a debate about… moral relativism? God, I have no idea why they’re talking about that at a party, or who they’re even arguing with, but apparently it’s getting heated. Wanna come with?”

Zuko chuckled and shook his head. “I think I’ll take a few more moments out here. Parties drain me sometimes.” In truth, he needed a while to process what just happened between the two of you, what he had done. He definitely hadn’t imagined that moment, and he knew he would be thinking of your eyes and how they sparkled in the moonlight for days to come.

“Ah, I totally get you, man. Take all the time you need, text me if you need anything!” You winked at him and ran back inside, which Zuko reciprocated with a light smile.

~~~~~~

You spent the rest of the night having a great time — drinking more shitty beer with Sokka, dancing with Katara and Toph, singing so badly to the music with Suki that you were amazed they hadn’t kicked you out, and telling stories to anyone who would listen with Aang’s assistance (you two made a great team). The only thing you needed was some time with Zuko - besides the time you spent together out on the balcony you had hardly seen him doing anything that wasn’t hanging on the outside of the party. The not-so-hushed conversations between three drunk girls and the designated driver about it went just as well as one might think.

“Look how sad he looks! Who comes to a party just to not party?” You caught Zuko’s eye again and waved, which he returned with a smile and a small wave of his own.

“Zuko does. He’s all ‘look at me! I’m going to show how cool and brooding I am by not doing anything. All the chicks dig it,’” Toph mocked, dropping her voice lower to imitate Zuko.

“Toph, that is so mean! You can’t even see him.” Suki placed her hands on each side of Toph’s face which Toph immediately slapped away. “You are so beautiful. You are a beautiful blind woman, and we need to dance.”

“Suki, why are your hands so cold- oh my GOD—” Suki grabbed Toph’s hand and pulled her into the fray, causing you to dissolve into giggles. You grabbed Katara’s shoulder and looked back over at Zuko.

“He looks so sad, Katara! I can’t stand it!” You stared your sister in the eyes and put your other hand on her shoulder. “I’m gonna ask him to dance. I’m going to pull that beautiful man out of the shadows of his angst and I’m going to make him dance to this trashy pop song with me and bring out his happiness.”

Katara snorted and placed her hand over yours on her shoulder, casting a glance at Zuko as well. “Are you sure? I mean, I’m pretty sure the only reason he’s here is because he has to drive you guys home.”

“My dear sister, I’m afraid to tell you that you are wrong. No one—” you gestured to yourself. “—can be sad around this.”

You clapped Katara on the shoulder then pushed your way through the crowd until you got to Zuko, not even giving him a chance to react before you grabbed his hand and started pulling him behind you back into the center of the party.

“What are you doing?” He yelled, having to raise his voice to be heard over the music and everyone around the two of you.

“I’m getting you to dance with me!” You grinned, letting go of his hand and facing him once you had gotten far enough in. He looked so out of his element that your eyes softened immediately and you put your hand on his shoulder.

“Zuko, if you’re uncomfortable then you can tell me and you can go back to what you were doing before. But please, just give this a chance for one minute. I think you’ll have fun.”

A beat of silence passed before he nodded, and your smile returned. “Y/N, you know I’ve danced before, right?”

“I don’t doubt it. But you haven’t danced the Y/N way.” The song conveniently changed to an upbeat, commercial pop song, and you gasped. “And this is the perfect song to start with! Come on, just follow my lead!”

You started to dance like no one was watching, jumping up and down, waving your arms around, and doing some truly ridiculous moves. Zuko stifled a laugh and you beckoned for him to come closer. “Get in on this, man! You promised me one minute, which means one minute of this.”

Zuko started to inch closer but you grabbed his hand once more and pulled him in, doing all of your moves from before but this time holding onto his hand. You looked so carefree, so happy, that Zuko couldn’t not do this with you. You were right that this wasn’t his scene, but he would do a lot of things if it meant seeing you like this.

Suki ran back to Katara, pulling a disheveled Toph behind her, and she gestured with her head at you and Zuko with a questioning look. “Is Zuko.. dancing? To a trashy pop song?”

Katara chuckled and nodded. “Yep.”

“Oh my god, is she wearing his jacket?”

“Yep.”

“Zuko doing things at a party and not just brooding in the corner? I think the world’s about to end,” Toph said.

“I think my sister just has that effect on him, somehow.” Katara sighed happily, looking back at her two friends with a twinkle in her eye. You grabbed onto Zuko’s hands and pulled him closer, swinging your hands back and forth between the two of you as the song changed to a more chill beat. “I haven’t seen him smile this much in ages.”

You ended up dancing together for a whole lot more than one minute.

~~~~~~

“I just- I want you guys to know how much I love you. Sokka brought us to this cool ass party, Aang is a ball of literal sunshine, my girls always got my back, and Zuko gave me his jacket because I was cold. Not that I could be cold around you, because you. Are. Hot.” Your words were slightly slurred as you and your friends walked through the parking lot. and your eyes widened as you started taking it off. “Oh shit, do you want this back? I totally forgot that I was wearing it.”

“No- no, you can keep it! I don’t mind.” Tonight had definitely changed something between you and Zuko. Your time on the balcony together, him giving you his jacket, somehow roping him into dancing like an idiot, and all these compliments that you were just throwing around? His feelings were all over the place, but it was just the party getting to him, right? You two were friends. Nothing else. But the more you flashed that smile at him, the harder it got to convince himself that was all you two were. That it was all he wanted you two to be.

“Alright, so let me get this straight. Toph and Y/N are coming home with me to our dorm, Zuko is driving the boys back to their apartment, and Suki is abandoning us to get it on with my brother?” Katara questioned, clicking the button on her keys a few times to unlock her car.

“I’m not abandoning you if I told you about it before we came here!” Suki and Sokka were holding hands, constantly whispering and laughing to each other the entire way out of the apartment. “You know that every party there’s a very real possibility of us going home together.”

“Yeah, and I try not to think about it,” she said wryly as she helped Toph into the passenger seat. “Make sure they don’t do anything stupid, Zuko?”

“I can’t make any promises. You know how they are.”

“Hey! We are two adults in a loving relationship and we are allowed to do whatever we want—” Sokka protested, leaning against Suki for support.

“We don’t want to hear about that, Sokka! Just— don’t mess up my part of the room, okay? And if you do anything on my bed I will ruin you.” You pointed at him accusingly and Suki gave him a big kiss.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! It’s all gonna be fine,” Suki grinned at you and poked Sokka’s cheek, and you shook your head.

“I’m too drunk and too sleep deprived to deal with this,” you grumbled as you climbed into the back seat of Katara’s car, nearly falling over as soon as you sat down.

“Take care of her, okay?” Zuko muttered to Katara as he walked past her. She mock saluted and grinned.

“As if I’m capable of anything else.”

Through the window you could see Aang and Zuko talking about something while you left the parking lot, but you couldn’t hear them. “Whaddya think they’re talking about?”

“It’s probably nothing,” Katara said with a smile.

~~~~~~

Soon, you, Katara, and Toph were all back at the dorm, sitting on the floor talking together. It had been a long time since you had gotten some girl time, and no other time was better than after partying your heart out.

You pulled out your phone and stared at it, tuning out Katara and Toph as they started going on about one of their classes. You had an internal conversation with yourself, then unlocked it and went to your messages. Drunk you was taking control, and drunk you was not the smartest.

#avatar #avatar the last airbender #avatar smau #atla smau #atla #smau #social media au #zuko #zuko smau #zuko x y/n #zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender smau #fic #writing #sadie writes

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thekidultlife · 3 years

Text

Plot: After an unexpected encounter with Yoon Jeonghan during a baby shower, more memories unfold from your mind, and his.

Genre: slice of life, angst

Pairing: Jeonghan + fem!reader + Mingyu

Warnings: a bit of explicit language

A/N: Many thanks to my incredibly amazing beta reader, @secndlife, for helping me make this beautiful! Also, I would like to express my gratitude to @xuseokgyu for taking the time to make lovely banners and even a teaser for this series! You are both a joy to work with and I am so blessed to have you both help me. 🧡 Lastly, to our followers and readers who are continually supporting this blog despite its inactivity, thank you! More details about my future works will be addressed after this fic.

Taglist: @haotheheckk, @jeonjungkaka, @soonhoonsol, @fluffyhyeju, @minkwans

“If you love me like you tell me, please be careful with my heart. you can take it, just don’t break it — or my world will fall apart.”

🍁🎧🧡

The cobbled pavements of the narrow alley you were walking on were damp from the rain that had recently poured. It was chipped and uneven in some places, and your thin-strapped sandals would sometimes slip and get stuck between the cobblestones. Despite the imperfections of this street, you had come to love it, just like every other self-respecting college student living around the vicinity. Behind you, the signage of restaurants and thrift stores flashed in bright neon blues and violets, blending with the honey-golden glow of the lights coming from the shops and apartment buildings that rose around you.

This alley was the most beautiful place to go to in the city.

It was a beautiful Saturday night, too, and in your opinion, you had spent it well.

You were walking back to the dorms with your friends and a couple of seniors. You were in the back of the group, where it was quieter. Clutching your arm was Jung Mirae, one of your roommates, who was struggling to walk straight after too many beers.

In the process of half-dragging Mirae, an alarm from your phone rang. You hasted to get it switched off.

Bright laughter pierced the stillness as the ones just a few steps ahead of you, Park Hyewon and Lee Joonyoung, your best friends besides Mirae, kept on cracking jokes that would make the whole group roar with laughter. You giggled at their ridiculousness occasionally while trying to keep Mirae on her feet.

Hangout nights are incomplete without these two, you thought to yourself, as you studied long-legged, pink-haired Hyewon and the tall, broad-shouldered Joonyoung. You watched as they made mean comments at each other and then made up for the teasing by giving each other kisses.

“Gross!” someone called out from behind you, and you could not help but smile.

Joonyoung turned around and playfully gave the finger to the person who had shouted out. "Go get yourself a girlfriend, Sunwoo! It's clear to me that you’re in need of love.”

The group snickered at Joonyoung's words.

As you listened to everyone talk about how good the night was and how hellish the next week would be with final exams coming up, you felt cold fingers touch your cheek.

You turned to Mirae, who was looking up at you with quizzical—albeit drunken—eyes.

“Hey, Y/N." Mirae’s voice was loud and clear in the narrow alley. You brushed her hand away gently. "Why are you crying?”

“What do you mean?” You put a hand over her mouth and tried to tell her to stop spouting off nonsense, but it was then that you felt it—the wet trickle of tears on your face. Surprised, you wiped them away with your hand.

It was true.

You were crying.

The walking paused. Footsteps ceased over the cobbled pavement as everyone halted to look over at you. Your cheeks reddened at the unwanted attention.

“Y/N, is something wrong? Here, let me have Mirae.” One of your classmates reached out to take Mirae.

“Thank you.” I think I drank too much, you despaired, as you kept wiping at your face and waving people away. You made attempts to control your emotions, but nothing could stop the tears from coursing down your cheeks.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you kept saying over and over with a hoarse voice that almost didn’t sound like you. “Keep walking, please! Don’t mind me. I think I just drank too much.” You gave a shaky laugh and rubbed your eyes. “I get like this sometimes. Sorry.”

“You did not drink too much tonight, though,” someone commented dubiously. The others agreed and continued to look at you with confused expressions. "You never do."

“Jin-ah is right. And you don’t ‘get like this sometimes,’ babe.” Just a few feet away from you and leaning against Joonyoung, Hyewon crossed her arms. Her face, full of concern over your sudden outburst of emotions, made her look as though she hadn’t spent the night drinking as much as the guys did. “What's wrong?”

“I really don’t know, to be honest.” You pushed a strand of hair away from your face and made a poor attempt to smile at Hyewon. "I think it’s just the beer. Really."

Hyewon looked like she didn’t want to stop questioning you.

Please don’t ask me anything more, you begged with your eyes.

Joonyoung nudged Hyewon casually.

"Okay." Hyewon shrugged as she reluctantly conceded to your lame answers. She walked up to you, linked her arm with yours, and turned to grin at the others placatingly. “Let’s go home for real, gang! I think my girlfriend here just needs to sleep.”

Everyone nodded, put on happy faces, and eagerly put the awkward scene behind them. They once again started with the jokes and laughter and even managed to loop you into their silly conversations. However, their eyes avoided you most of the time, and their jokes were careful. You sensed that nobody wanted to have any part in pulling any triggers you might have. Tonight was no time to be sad. With finals coming up, no one needed any sort of emotional baggage. You felt bad for making them cautious, but you were also grateful for their thoughtfulness about your feelings.

The happy atmosphere became short-lived, though, as five minutes later, a sound cut through the alley and through the facades that everyone was putting up for your sake. It made all of them stop in their tracks once more. Even Hyewon stiffened beside you.

The sound perfectly explained everything that was going on with you, and there was no hiding it now.

Your alarm was playing again.

“Oh, fuck.” Hyewon let out a huge breath and squeezed her eyes shut. She looked as though she was trying to block out the sound. “Y/N, for goodness’ sake, don’t be an idiot. Don’t listen to it. Turn it off—”

But of course, like an idiot, you listened.

“Hey there. If you find yourself listening to this, then it means we have made it to Year 3. Please meet me at the same place where we are tonight: the art pier, one hour before the day ends. I'll be the stupid-looking guy standing by the yacht statue while holding too many roses. I love you. Happy Anniversary!"

This alarm shouldn’t be ringing—because you didn’t make it to Year 3.

“Please turn it off.”

Joonyoung, who was right behind you, reached for your bag, rummaged inside, and pulled out your phone. Glaring at the screen, he shut it off and dropped the phone in the bag again.

The alleyway was silent for a while.

Hyewon sighed. And then she leaned against you and said softly, “Let’s go home.”

The cobbled pavements of the narrow alley you were still walking on were damp from the rain that had recently poured. Hands would steady you from behind when your thin-strapped sandals would slip and get stuck between the loose cobblestones. No one drunk should walk on this alley with its imperfect pavements, but you had come to love it, just like every other self-respecting college student living around the vicinity. As you passed, the signage of restaurants and thrift stores flashed in bright neon blues and violets before melting into the ever-constant amber colors of the street lights.

This alley was the most beautiful place to go to in this city.

It was a beautiful Saturday night, too, and in your opinion, you had spent it well. But you weren’t supposed to spend this night here. Not in this place, despite its beauty, no.

You were supposed to be somewhere else.

You were supposed to be with someone else.

“I know that everybody here is trying to be nice, but let me say it for all of you here, so you don’t have to wonder how it sounds.” Joonyoung kicked a crumpled beer can out of his way as he walked. “Fuck Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Oh, please, Lee Joonyoung.” Hyewon sounded tired. “Thank you for making Y/N more miserable.”

“What do you mean? Bubs, I’m not the douchebag who—ah, whatever.” Joonyoung shrugged and flung middle fingers up the sky. “Wherever you are, Yoon Jeonghan, fuck you!”

“He’s completely drunk,” Hyewon said apologetically, looking around her; some of the campus seniors with you were friends of Jeonghan’s. “Sorry.” And then, looking at Joonyoung exasperatedly, she hissed, “Joonyoung. Cut it out.”

“Let him be,” you said in a drained voice, “let him be.”

You were supposed to be with Yoon Jeonghan tonight, but you weren’t. He was long gone, and all you have left of him was something that you had somehow forgotten to remove, something you wished so desperately to forget.

All you have left of him was his voice—frozen in time through that alarm.

The rest was memories and history.

🍁🎧🧡

Mingyu sips from a coffee mug and nods in understanding as you finish speaking. He leans back on one of the steps of the townhouse, where you both sit. Cars drive down your neighborhood street, their headlights coloring the concrete road with hazy white and yellow lights. You watch their signals blink as they find spaces to park. Leaves continue to fall, and some end up in your hair. You feel Mingyu brush them away. You smile and do the same for him.

It is way past midnight, and here you both sit, snuggling to keep warm against the cold night air and talking about a love long gone.

“So,” Mingyu traces the rim of his coffee cup as he puts the pieces together, “you and Jeonghan-hyung dated during uni days?”

You nod. “Mm-hmm. We dated for two years. And then we broke up during my junior year, which was when that alley story happened.” You look at your boyfriend in mock suspicion. “Not that I’m complaining, but are you sure you want to listen to this story? Because we don’t need to talk about this if you aren’t comfortable—”

“—No, no, baby, I’m okay!” Mingyu chuckles a little bit as he turns to you. “I’m perfectly fine. I really want to know. If you’re not comfortable talking about it, though, we could just put it behind us.” He smiles at you. “I’m okay either way.”

He had stepped onto a minefield of your past without warning. He’s not supposed to be okay either way. You keep staring at him, not believing what he said.

“But, babe…” You sigh as you look at him. “Instead of talking about how Jeonghan and I ended up dating years ago, why don’t we talk about other things first?” You keep searching his face for any sign of uneasiness, any sign of hurt or confusion. “Like, how you felt when you found out. Or, how to avoid getting ambushed by stuff like this in the future.” You lean against him. “I don’t want something like this to happen again, no matter how great we both are at handling surprises. I think this is a good time to talk about things we haven’t talked about yet. Exes, our most embarrassing moments—” you giggle as Mingyu laughs at your last words. “Hey, I’m serious here!”

Your mind recalls the events of the night. You remember twirling in front of your full-length mirror to admire your new dress. You remember how perfect Mingyu had looked when he stepped out of his car and walked up to you. You remember the car ride, the conversation that you had about meeting his family and kissing underneath the porchlight of Aera’s house. You remember the baby shower: meeting Mingyu’s parents, Kim Aera, and Mingyu’s other friends. You remember how happy and secure you felt with Mingyu beside you as he introduced you to his family and some high-profile friends. You remember the crib and the games.

You remember Choi Seungcheol’s surprised expression and shaking Yoon Jeonghan’s hand for the first time in years. You remember Kwon Soonyoung’s drunken announcement.

“So, the former flames have finally met!”

“Well, I guess I got surprised when I found out that you guys used to date,” Mingyu clarifies, “but if we will talk about whether I had strong, negative feelings about the whole thing...” his voice trails off as he looks at you.

“...Uh-huh?” you prod.

Mingyu shakes his head. “I didn’t have any.” He squeezes your hand reassuringly. “You don’t have to worry about me. To be honest, what surprised me the most was the fact that I handled the situation pretty well. Back when we were still at Aera’s house, I really did my best to be careful with how I took in the whole thing. I took care not to show how surprised I was with my expressions, my words...”

“Mm-hmm.” You nod along with him as his voice trails off. “Yes. I agree. You handled it pretty well. But I am still so sorry for dropping that bomb on you that way.” You look up at him with an apologetic expression. “We haven’t really talked about past relationships that much yet, so...”

“Y/N, please don’t overthink.” His face hovers inches away from yours as he looks deep into your eyes. “See?” He makes all sorts of cute expressions, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m okay.”

You become willing to believe him, but then you catch him looking at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Although,” Mingyu adds, “I did feel a bit self-conscious.” He sighs dramatically, and he pouts—adorably. “I mean, he’s the Yoon Jeonghan. You dated the Yoon Jeonghan that most girls nowadays are swooning over. Who am I compared to that?”

As he continues to make such cute faces while saying the most outrageous things, you stare at him, open-mouthed. “What the hell.” You had seen through his joke, of course, but you could not help but look at him incredulously. “Is my boyfriend actually saying this to me right now while looking so drop-dead gorgeous beside me? Is he really comparing himself right now to someone else?”

Mingyu ignores your words and continues. “Yoon Jeonghan, actor extraordinaire, ranking twentieth at this year’s Asia’s Sexiest 100. Hmm. Yes.” He considers his words and nods. “I did feel intimidated. He’s good-looking and is amazing at acting and—”

“—Whoa, whoa, whoa.” You put your mug down beside you, and you giggle as you take Mingyu’s face in your hands. “You are one gorgeous person, too, and I am so, so in love with you. Stop comparing yourself to him.” You nuzzle his face, smiling. “I know you’re just joking about this, but please. Stop.”

He continues to look at you with a playful pout, but his eyes turn darker voice drops a notch lower. “Make me.”

You feel him grin against your lips as you make him stop speaking.

At the back of your head, you remember Kim Aera’s words when she talked about her husband.

“Not all women are as fortunate as I am, you know? Some of us meet such crappy guys that it’s a miracle I ended up finding someone worth the wedding vows.”

You aren’t one to believe in fortunes, so you try to think about all the things you must have done right to deserve a man such as Kim Mingyu. More importantly, you wonder if you would be able to keep him by your side.

Too much thinking, too much thinking, you chastise yourself as you kiss Mingyu harder, wanting to erase everything from your mind.

“I love you,” you say after a while.

“I love you, too. But where were we with your story?” Mingyu lets go of you and takes his mug once more. Leaves still fall from the trees. The streetlights glow brighter as midnight darkens. A green sedan stops directly across you both, and you watch as a man staggers out of the driver’s side.

“Well, if you really want to hear all about it, it would take us all night.” You look up at him with an enticing, hopeful smile. “Do you want to stay the night here? Hyewon and Joonyoung would be thrilled to have you. We can do storytime together with them.” You shake your head. “I still haven’t said a word to them about meeting Jeonghan again because we only went upstairs to get coffee. Hyewon will get a kick out of this.”

Mingyu laughs softly. “I can imagine.” He kisses your forehead before taking your hand. “Let’s head back inside.”

No more cars drive down your neighborhood street. No more hazy yellow and white headlights color the dark concrete road. Mingyu takes your hand and pulls you up from the steps. You feel him brush away some leaves from your hair once more. You look up at him appreciatively, and you do the same for him. Across the street, a glaring woman opens the front door for the drunken man from the green sedan.

You retreat indoors for the night. You think about how to tell Mingyu everything. And when Hyewon opens the door to greet you both, you wonder if she and Joonyoung would help you get the facts right about how you and Jeonghan started and how you and Jeonghan eventually ended.

With all these thoughts in your head, you faintly hear your phone ring in your purse. Getting a sense of déjà vu from the story that you had told Mingyu earlier, you feel chills run up and down your spine as you pull your phone out.

“Who’s your midnight caller, girlfriend?” Hyewon goodnaturedly teases as she takes your empty mug from your hand. Her face looks flushed, and you remember that she and Joonyoung had been drinking when you left them earlier. “Joonyoung! Mingyu’s here!”

“I have a confession to make,” you say as you look at the caller ID. “Mingyu and I ran into Jeonghan and Seungcheol at his cousin’s baby shower.”

Hyewon’s face pales at your words. “You what?”

“We did,” Mingyu says softly, scratching his head while smiling at Hyewon. “He’s a good hyung of mine and Aera’s in the industry. We’ve been friends for a long time, but I didn’t know that he and Y/N used to date.”

“Huh,” Hyewon breathes out. “All these years, the only way we could see him was on TV. We never ran across him, ever. And now we find out that he’s good friends with your boyfriend’s family.” Hyewon raises her eyebrows and shakes her head. “Imagine that.”

“You met Jeonghan?” Joonyoung bounds into the foyer, which suddenly becomes crowded with the four of you there. “Was he with anyone else?”

“Just him and Seungcheol-hyung,” Mingyu answers.

“Let’s not talk about this here. Come on in, you two. We still have some pizza, chicken, and beer.” Hyewon manages to push the two guys into the living room. She turns to you, clearly wanting to talk to you in private, but you put up a hand.

“Hold on.” Your phone is vibrating in your hand, and you hastily answer the call. “Hello?”

🍁🎧🧡

He leans on the railings of the rooftop bar, a drink in one hand and a phone in the other. As he gazes at the city below, he knows that he has had too much to drink. The lights have started to pulse too much. The numbness inside him has finally reached his fingertips. He considers stopping to drink this last glass, but his call finally goes through.

At the sound of the voice on the other line, he decides that he needs this one last shot of bourbon.

“I know that it’s too late to call you now,” he whispers almost inaudibly, “but if I don’t say this tonight, I probably never will.”

He lets go of the empty glass in his hand, and he watches as it shatters on the ground.

“I miss you,” he says, oblivious of the curses and complaints from the people around him. “And I know that you’re in a happy place now, but I—” A painful pause ensues as he stands there, lost for words. Shifting his weight from one foot to another, he tries to ignore the ache in his throat and the burning in his eyes. “—I just wanted you to know that. Everything about this call feels wrong because I know that I am not supposed to and that I have no right to call you anymore, but I will never stop wondering how these words sound like if I don’t say it right now.” A tortured grin spreads across his lips. “I miss you.”

The phone falls out of his hands, and he blindly falls to the ground to pick it up. Sharp fragments from the broken glass cut through his skin and the material of his pants, but he doesn’t feel the pain. He is too numb right now. He couldn’t even feel his legs. As he futilely tries to smoothen the cracked screen on his phone, he hears a loud voice coming from a megaphone.

“And cut!” The director’s voice rings loud and clear throughout the rooftop bar. He walks over to Jeonghan, who is still trying to bring his phone back to life. “Okay, did I suddenly step into some shitty romance movie after the break? What was all that?” The director impatiently turns around and gestures to the crew behind him. “I need a medical kit here; and another phone, please. Geez. What has gotten into you tonight?”

“Sorry,” Jeonghan says apologetically. “I just got too immersed with my role.” He shakily stands up. “And I can’t feel my legs.”

The director shakes his head. “Look, Jeonghan, I know that you love ad-libs. I love your ad-libs, too. You know that. But your last lines threw me off.” He squints his eyes suspiciously at Jeonghan. “Where did you go tonight? You were fine the whole day, and then you suddenly get picked up by your friend. The minute you come back to work, you’re a different person.” He shakes his head again and walks away. “Read the script and pull yourself together. We’ll be taking a short break. And apologize to your co-star for spouting out all that mushy stuff!”

“What was that about?” Seungcheol has appeared from out of nowhere, arms crossed. “Why were you telling Jihoon that you missed him?”

Jeonghan laughs. He gestures weakly with his hand as he answers, “It’s the bourbon.”

“Who on earth actually drinks half a dozen shots while filming?” Seungcheol pauses as he studies Jeonghan’s face. “And why are you crying?”

“I’m not.” Jeonghan wipes away something wet from his face. “Stop bitching, Cheol, and just help me sit down somewhere.”

“Oh, Yoon Jeonghan.” Seungcheol sighs as guides Jeonghan to the nearest steel chair. “You said you would be able to come back to work after the baby shower! God, I was an idiot for believing you.”

“This is not about the baby shower,” Jeonghan protests weakly as he leans back against the chair. “Leave me alone and let me rest. Please.” He closes his eyes.

“So," Seungcheol fishes around for words, "what was that about?"

Jeonghan doesn’t answer.

Seungcheol sighs again. “Was she the one you were ‘talking to’ in that phone call?”

Silence.

“Jeonghan—”

“—She looked happy.” Jeonghan’s voice is calm, but tears still escape his closed eyes. He leans to the side as though he wanted to sleep. “They looked happy. And when I saw them kiss by the front porch when we got to Aera’s, I felt funny." He grins. "I felt funny because a part of me got hurt—” He pounds his chest. “—Right here.” His grin widens. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just like this because I haven't seen her for a long time."

The rooftop bar is buzzing with activity: the director is making changes with the camera angles, someone is adjusting the brightness of the floodlights, and the extras are practicing the not-so-easy art of blending in with the scene. Jeonghan hears someone sweep the broken glass from the tiled floor.

“Mingyu is a good guy,” Seungcheol offers sympathetically. “At least we can both be sure that she will be alright.”

“Mm-hmm.” Jeonghan continues pounding his chest with his bandaged hand. “I know.”

“You are my first romance, and I’m willing to take a chance that till life is through, I’d still be loving you.”

🍁🎧🧡

The cobbled pavements of the narrow alley that he is walking on are still the same. It feels damp, even though no rain had poured that night. It is still chipped and uneven in some places, and he remembers how your thin-strapped sandals would sometimes slip and get stuck between the cobblestones. Despite the imperfections of this street, he knows that you loved it. But while you had loved this place for its bright lights and broken cobblestones, he had loved it for what it contained: the restaurants and thrift stores, all of which still had signs that flash in bright neon blues and violets.

And he loved them because of the memories he had created inside them—memories that he had made with you.

He vividly remembers the first plate of spaghetti that you shared at Georgie’s, a quaint restaurant that would have been considered Italian but for the sweet spaghetti sauce that it serves. He has not forgotten the taste because he still goes there on Thursdays. And he has never forgotten the way you had laughed while eating spaghetti as he confessed that he wanted to date you.

“You have no idea how ridiculous that sounds coming out of your mouth,” you had said while pushing away your plate. Your eyes had been gleaming with humor then, but your voice had been guarded and careful. “To put it simply, sunbae, I am not going to date you.” You had shrugged, and locks of your hair had tumbled across that denim jacket that he had loved seeing on you. “You know why.”

He had known then.

You had never fallen in love before. That knowledge should have made him cautious, but he admits to himself now that it had made him all the more desperate to snag that spot in your heart marked, “First Love.”

It was at Georgie’s that you had first rejected him, but it was there that you also said yes to him a few months later. Twirling pasta in your plate, you had murmured, “Okay. Let’s date. But Yoon Jeonghan—” Your voice had shaken. And then you had looked at him.

“Please be careful with my heart.”

He had answered that with your first kiss.

At signless thrift stores that are scattered a few stalls away from each other, Jeonghan remembers patiently waiting for you as you picked clothes for him and art supplies for yourself. He remembers how you would stand to the side to let Hyewon and Mirae haggle with the storekeeper. He remembers your apologetic expression when you felt like Hyewon or Mirae had taken the bargaining too far. He smiles as he remembers how embarrassed you would be during those times.

And then he smiles wider as he remembers Hyewon’s sharp fingernails that had dug on his shoulder when she pulled him aside during the first time he tagged along for the shopping. He chuckles as he remembers how menacing she had looked.

“If dating my goody-two-shoes Y/N is payback because I broke your best friend’s heart a few years ago,” Hyewon warns darkly, “then you’d better know that I’ll be coming for you. And I have no qualms whatsoever about tearing you to shreds. You got that?” She had dug her nails deeper at that point.

“I don’t care what history you had with my best friend,” he had answered calmly. “I am dating Y/N because I love her. That’s all there is. You’re reading way too much into this, Park Hyewon.”

“Am I?” Hyewon had scoffed, clearly unconvinced. “Yoon Jeonghan, why are you dating Y/N? The real reason, please."

"I love her," he repeated. "That's all."

"No. That's not it. I refuse to believe that’s your reason. And we both know here that you can’t fool me with that crap.” She had let go of him then, but not before throwing out a few more words that sounded like a prophecy. Throwing up her hands in the air and rolling her eyes, she had said, “I’m calling it: you’ll only break Y/N's heart.”

Funny how Hyewon turned out to be right.

“This alley is the most beautiful place to go to in the city, isn’t it?”

At that moment, Jeonghan stops in his tracks. He stops reminiscing.

He whirls around, his eyes wide and almost sober, searching for the owner of that voice. His heartbeats quicken. He clenches his jaw as another knife of pain stabs through him at those words.

You used to say the same thing to him. You used to say those words while holding his hand or whenever he would kiss you unannounced while you walked this street. You used to say those words while looking up at him. He would never get lost anywhere in the world, but he used to get lost in your eyes when you did so.

He squints his eyes, certain that it had been you who had spoken. But as his vision focuses on the owner of the voice, he feels his heart sink inside him.

Of course, it wasn’t you. Jeonghan laughs at himself and his stupidity.

It wasn’t you. It was some stupid co-ed echoing the words that any college student would say about this street. It wasn’t you because you were long gone from him now, and he had nothing left of you but all these memories that still plague him in this fucking alleyway.

It wasn’t you because Jeonghan had done what Hyewon had said that he would do.

A hand grabs his arm. “Let’s go, Yoon Jeonghan. You shouldn’t be here.”

Jeonghan recognizes Seungcheol’s voice. He grins at his friend’s frustrated face as he trips on a stupid loose cobblestone. “Hello, there. Why do you keep appearing out of nowhere? And did you also think of Hyewon while following me along this legendary street? You only loved this street because of Hyewon, but you still feel it, right?” Jeonghan helps himself up and absently studies his dirtied pants. “The nostalgia this place evokes?”

“Shut up,” Seungcheol snaps, “just shut up. You know, I expected you to act more maturely than this, Jeonghan.”

“What?” Jeonghan laughs. “Can’t a guy walk in peace?”

Seungcheol stops walking. He lets go of Jeonghan’s arm, and he faces Jeonghan with a furious expression. “You have no right to get hung up over Y/N,” he says with a poisonous tone. “You have no right at all.”

Seungcheol’s words slice through Jeonghan like a blade he didn’t see coming. He wasn't able to brace for it. He didn’t expect those words to come, especially from Seungcheol.

“You broke her heart.” Seungcheol’s tone is more fit for a eulogy than for a conversation with his best friend. “You made a choice years ago. What did you expect the ending to be? You can’t cry now.” His face softens. “Be a man. Accept that she’s moved on. Did you see her face earlier at the baby shower? She didn’t even look at you with any hurt or anger.” He presses a hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder. “She looks happy. Was she surprised to have seen you? Yes. But she has clearly moved on, and so should you.”

There is silence for a while until Seungcheol hands him a face mask.

"Spare yourself the hell you'd experience from gossip rags and wear the fucking mask. You look terrible and stupid, coming here without any disguise at all. These aren’t uni days anymore, dumbass."

The cobbled pavements of the narrow alley that Jeonghan and Seungcheol are walking on are still the same. It feels damp, even though no rain had poured that night. It is chipped and uneven in some places, and both men could still remember how easily one could trip and fall on the slippery cobblestones. But despite the imperfections of this street, they both know someone who had loved it for what it was.

Yes, you had loved this alleyway for its bright lights and broken cobblestones. Seungcheol had loved it because of your friend Hyewon, but Jeonghan had loved it for what it contained: the restaurants and thrift stores, all of which still had signs that flash in bright neon blues and violets.

And he loved them because of the memories he had created inside them—memories that he had made with you.

But now he realizes that this alleyway is a literal Memory Lane, bringing him back to the past and clouding his judgment of the present.

As he walks past Georgie’s, He remembers your words again.

“Please be careful with my heart.”

Friday has barely ended, and Saturday is just about to begin, but when Georgie’s fades behind him, he laughs. He laughs like the idiot that he is, and tears pour out of his eyes as he does so.

“I will be true to you—just a promise from you will do: from the very start, please be careful with my heart.”

🍁🎧🧡

The truth has finally hit him.

Everything that he had with you—all of it—is now just memories and history.

And his conviction that he should stop riding this rollercoaster of emotions about you becomes even more pronounced when his phone vibrates, and he picks up a call.

“Where are you?” a woman’s voice asks, worried. “I’ve been up all night waiting at your apartment.”

Seungcheol mouths, Who is it?

Jeonghan flashes the phone at Seungcheol.

It was Jung Mirae.

“I love you and you know I do—there’ll be no one else for me. I promise I’ll be always true, for the world and all to see. Love has heard some lies softly spoken, and I have had my heart badly broken; I’ve been burned and I’ve been hurt before.”

🍁🎧🧡

Mingyu stops staring at the ceiling and turns to look at you. You are sleeping beside him, tucked under his arm, and he is happy. He had spent the night with you, going through your memories and learning from them. He had spent the whole night immersed in the past that you had inside you.

Yes, indeed, he had learned a lot about you tonight. And as he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, he whispers something that you did not hear. He whispers words that he just wants to prove to you with actions.

“I’ll be careful with your heart,” Mingyu whispers as he kisses your hair, your neck, your bare shoulder, “because I know how it feels to get hurt, too.” If you had been awake at that point, you would have seen the pensive, faraway look in his eyes as he walks down his own cobblestoned path—his own Memory Lane. If you had been awake, you would have worried about his expression like he knows you would. So he quickly smiles at your peaceful, sleeping face.

“I have a story, too,” he adds softly, “but I’ll save it for later.” He hugs you close to him. “For now, I’ll just be content with taking care of you.” He kisses your lips, and you stir. “Of us.”

When your eyes open, he shyly ducks under the covers, his twinkling eyes peeking at you. And as you protest that it was late and that he should sleep, he laughs softly, and he nods. “Okay, okay. I’ll take care of you.”

“What?” you ask, uncomprehending. “Say again, baby?”

“Nothing.” He hugs you close again. “Just that I love you.”

You fall back into sleep at his words, and he keeps watching you until his eyes close on their own.

“I love you,” he whispers again.

“So I know just how you feel: trust that my love is real for you. I’ll be gentle with your heart—I’ll caress it like the morning dew. I’ll be right beside you forever, I won’t let our world fall apart. From the very start, I’ll be careful with your heart.”

Author’s Note: Thank you very much for reading! I know that I have been very slow and inconsistent with my updates, but as long as there are unfinished WIPs on this list, please expect me to keep posting, no matter how sporadic. Tell me what you think about this part on the askbox, comments/reblogs! Thank you! - Leanne.

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #svtcreations #seventeen angst #yoon jeonghan #yoon jeonghan angst #jeonghan #jeonghan angst #svt scenarios #svt angst

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nationalharryleague · 4 years

Text

Work of Art

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: AU, Artist!Harry, fluff, angst if you squint

Word count: 4K

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my entry for @hsogolden ’s AU writing challenge! Check out their blog they are incredibly talented!!! ALSO, a MASSIVE thank you and shoutout to the lovely Miss Lu, @harrysgucciloafers!!! I could have never done it without her!! Thank you so much for reading and remember, feedback is so so so appreciated!!! You can also send requests to my ask anytime!! I hope you enjoy :) More of my writing can be found in my masterlist :)

***

Sleep was fleeting and you remained staring at your popcorn ceiling in your shitty apartment for longer than you would have liked. It was later than you would have liked when your phone buzzed and lit up the ceiling of your bedroom. Knowing sleep was still far off, you rolled over and examined the text from an unknown number, the bright screen blinding you in the process.

Hi, I was thinking of you today. I thought I would show you this piece that I made of you. Hope you’re doing well. Hx, attached was a slightly blurry photo of a beautiful painting of a woman.

The woman in the painting was made up of beautiful bright colors, her skin a mix of green, blue, and purple tones. Her eyes were a bright and captivating cerulean, standing out behind wide framed glasses, and she wore an intriguing and knowing smirk on her lips. Her hair fell down in blunt bangs over her forehead and framed her heart shaped face. She was young, looking to be only a little bit older than you.

The painting was captivating. It was crafted with such bright tones, using color blocking that blended the abstract with some elements of realism. It felt like someone poured all of their emotion and adoration or hurt (you couldn’t decide which) into it. You couldn’t decide if the artist loved or hated this figure staring back at you. One thing you knew was that whoever texted you was incredibly talented and had obviously dedicated so much time to this piece. You felt awful that it hadn’t reached its intended destination.

Um… Wrong number, you typed out, feeling a pang of sympathy for whoever ‘H’ was.

Oh… okay. Sorry to bother you., your phone screen lit up again.

Your art is beautiful, you quickly sent back, attempting to offer some sort of consolation to the mystery artist. Sorry I’m not who you wanted to talk to.

Don’t worry about it. Just looking for someone from a lifetime ago.

That last part kept you up for most of the night. You couldn’t stop thinking about what that could mean. Old friend? Estranged relative? Another artist? You let your mind dream up Oscar-worthy scenarios until you finally fell asleep.

***

“Please come to Scott’s art show with me,” Grace whined from across the table at your favorite coffee shop. Grace was your best friend from college and hadn’t figured out to get rid of you yet.

“You know how I feel about your shitty boyfriend and his shitty art,” you fired back. Scott was a pretentious “artist” who made “ironic” misogynistic sculptures and frequently “forgot” to pay Grace back for his share of rent. You hated his guts.

“I promise I’m going to break up with him soon. I just need to get to the end of the month so I get my money’s worth for rent,” she assured you. “By the way, I’m going to need some help moving out at the end of the month,” she mentioned nonchalantly. You let out a chuckle at her and playfully rolled your eyes.

“I will go to the show with you on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You’ll hold my hand.”

A few hours later you walked into the modern and cold art show space, holding onto Grace’s hand for dear life, feeling unwelcome in this environment. Grace blended in easily, her bright blue hair and arms of tattoos suiting her well. The edgiest thing you had ever done was getting your nose pierced… until your grandma threw a fit and your mom made you take it out. You were not an artist and you did not feel welcome in the art community, or at least the type of artists that hang out with Scott. You worked in an office, you dressed plainly and simply, and you didn’t think there was anything special about yourself. You were strikingly ordinary, a sharp contrast from most other people in the gallery. You felt like an outsider because you were one.

Walking around the gallery, you hung onto Grace while examining and appreciating the artwork. You took careful steps, as if to not take attention away from the paintings on the walls and spent time examining each piece as you moved through the room. As you moved from wall to wall, your eyes fell on a strikingly familiar painting. The same girl with the bright blue eyes and the bangs stared back at you, the devilish smirk still playing upon her lips like she knew you had met before.

Releasing Grace’s hand, you all but ran up to the painting in question, trying to take in all the details that didn’t translate over the slightly grainy photo on your phone. The painting took on a life of its own up close. The paint itself was layered thick and thin across the canvas creating a rough texture that made the girl come alive. You were half waiting for her to make eye contact with her captivating baby blues and start staring back at you. You felt like you could reach inside the canvas and hold the beautiful woman’s face in your hands.

“Do you like it?” a deep British voice asked after clearing their throat behind you.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful,” you murmured, still staring at the green and purple woman. It took you a moment to rip yourself away from her piercing eyes and look towards the voice, only to turn around and find an even more captivating set.

They were bright green and belonged to a tall, dark haired man that was breathtaking. He had chocolate brown curls that seemed to be sticking in every direction, like a purposefully perfect bedhead, and stubble that moved up his jaw and down his neck. He had plushy pink lips framing his bright smile and his two front teeth came down the tiniest bit too far. He was wearing a white tshirt that was painted to his fit body as it was a size too small for him, showing off his arms of tattoos, and a pair of orange corduroy flares. His ensemble was topped off with a pearl necklace. He arched a brow when your mouth hung open slightly, trying to take all of him in.

“The painting is gorgeous,” you eventually were able to spit out. “I feel like I know her.”

“I’m glad that I was able to create something so captivating,” he smiled at you. So he was the one that painted it, meaning he was the one who had texted it to you. After getting over the initial shock, you gave yourself an internal high five for having this guy’s number. “Harry,” he introduced himself, reaching out a perfectly manicured hand to shake yours. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Y/N,” you smiled back, debating if you should tell him that you had kind of met before. It felt creepy to tell him, like you were some sort of voyer on an intimate part of his life. “I love her. Can you tell me a little bit more about it?” you asked. You had to figure out if it was worth being creepy about.

“So did I,” he said with a light chuckle. “She’s someone that I used to know,” he elaborated looking over your shoulder, surely making eye contact with the woman. Maybe you were reading into it too closely, but you thought a flash of hurt passed across his features.

“Do you always paint mysterious people from your past?” you teased, wanting to break the slightly awkward silence and also willing to do anything to talk to him further.

“Actually, I’m mainly a landscape painter,” he smiled at the ground, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Looking back at Harry’s wall of paintings you realized that the girl was the only person on the wall, flanked by beautiful landscape paintings depicting all different areas of the world. You quickly picked your favorite, a monochromatic green scene of the Eiffel tower.

After you asked if he traveled a lot to paint, the conversation began to flow. You strolled around the mainly empty studio space, footsteps falling in sync, him teaching you about his paintings and you asking questions, desperate to learn anything you could from him and just wanting to hear that beautiful accent. You learned he grew up in Cheshire and moved to New York for school and never left, but he travelled to Europe often to see his family and to paint. He told you about how his ultimate goals in life were to have one of his pieces in the Museum of Modern Art and to find his soulmate. He was a hopeless yet hopeful romantic. He also had two cats, Evie and Stevie (the latter was obviously named after Stevie Nicks).

He was so beautiful. He had this magical twinkle in his eye that you just couldn’t get over. He looked like he was one of the sculptors’ in the room’s life work. He was just as much of a piece of art as anything on display in the studio.

When the crowd started to thin, Grace came and found you, still rolling her eyes from something stupid Scott had said, him trailing not far behind. “Hi my love,” she greeted you, kissing your cheek casually as always. “We were getting ready to head out but I can see you’ve made a friend.”

“Harry is the artist behind all these amazing paintings,” gesturing to the long wall displaying his artwork. “This is my best friend Grace,” you said, turning back to him. “And that’s her soon to be ex-boyfriend, Scott,” you laughed and pointed to him staring at a blank white canvas in the corner that was obviously not part of the exhibition.

“Wait,” he began, shaking his head and laughing, pointing accusingly between the two of you. “You two aren’t together?”

“What? No!”

“It’s just that you were holding hands for a while when you came in and then she called you ‘love,’ and then kissed your cheek,” he continued laughing, his cheeks a bright red. It was adorable. You felt your cheeks heat up just as bright red as his.

“Oh my god, no.” You broke out into a fit of giggles of your own.

“Well, in that case, would you like to grab a drink or something sometime?”

***

You decided to order a martini when you got to the bar the next night. You thought it would make you look fancy and you hoped it would impress your worldly date. You had put on your favorite red dress (the one that hugged you in all the right spots and hid the wrong ones), praying he would dress up like you did, and slid carefully onto the barstool. Bouncing your knee nervously, you sipped your drink slowly until you saw his well dressed figure enter the bar, making your heart skip a beat.

He was dressed in high-waisted wide-legged tan pants and a bright red cardigan printed with small white hearts that was held together in the front by a single button, leaving his chest and signature pearl necklace on display. His chest tattoos were now slightly visible, the faces of two swallows looking back at you, as well as what you thought might be some sort of antennae peeking up from his stomach. He also wore an award winning smile and shot you a wink when he spotted you from the entrance of the bar. Once again, he took your breath away.

“Hello darling,” he greeted you as he made his way over. You began to panic when he started leaning into you, relieved when his lips found their way to your cheek and quickly moved to the other. When he kissed your cheeks, it sent sparks through your body. Oh my god, he is so British, you squealed inside your head, unable to suppress your American excitement. “I like your color choice,” he smirked looking between your outfits of almost the exact same red. You could only hope your cheeks didn’t match as well.

“Great minds dress alike,” you remarked, earning a laugh from the gorgeous man in front of you. Turns out, your joke was enough to break the ice. Soon the conversation began to flow freely, without anxiety or trepidation, like you were a pair of souls reunited after lifetimes apart. You were two martinis in when you decided to break the news that the art gallery was not the first time you had spoken.

“I think I have to break something to you,” you giggled, everything seeming a little funny after a few drinks, “the art show was not the first time we met.” His eyebrows knit together in slight confusion so you decided to elaborate. “The night before the show you sent a picture of that painting to a wrong number, and that wrong number was me. I promise it was all a coincidence and I am not stalking you.” You held your breath while you waited a moment with bated breath for a reaction from him, but released the stress that had found its way into your shoulders when his smile returned to his lips.

“I knew you had more interest in Amelia than most people,” he chuckled. Amelia, you repeated to yourself, now having a name for the face of your mystery woman.

“When Grace dragged me to that studio and I saw her again, I just had to know more. But then I met you and got a little distracted,” you flirted, “accidentally” nudging his leg with the point of your stiletto.

“I’m glad I’m just a distraction to you,” he feigned offense, clutching his pearl necklace with the hand that wasn’t hanging onto his neat tequila.

“Meeting you tonight was actually just an elaborate ruse to learn more about your Amelia,” you sarcastically confessed, sending him back one of the winks he had been shooting you all night. Your wink wasn’t met with his typical laugh, but a slightly pained smile that didn’t reach his eyes. You worried you had hit a nerve.

“She’s not my Amelia anymore. Actually, I don’t think she ever was,” he spoke gently, taking a sip of his drink and breaking eye contact for what felt like the first time tonight. Oh no oh no oh no, you began to panic in your head. What did this woman do to him?

“I once had an ex tell me they had cancer so I wouldn’t break up with them,” you offered, forcing a laugh and praying you could brighten up his mood again. Thankfully, it worked, bringing back the crinkles by his eyes that appeared whenever he smiled or laughed.

You breathed a sigh of relief when the rest of the night went smoothly. It was better than smooth actually, it felt easy and exciting. Harry made your heart sing and your stomach flutter. He was a perfect gentleman, walking you all the way home (even when he lived on the other side of the city) and even up to your apartment, insisting he needed to make sure you made it inside safe.

The pair of you were standing in front of your front door when he leaned in and pressed his blushed lips to yours. He tasted like the lime that sat on the rim of his drunk and smelled like shampoo and vanilla. Every hair on your body stood up on point and everywhere he touched you felt like your skin lit on fire; you never wanted this moment to end. He gently held your face and you could feel his lips turn into a smile as he pulled away, his beautiful green eyes meeting yours once again.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he breathed, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

“I think we should do this again,” you said, still catching the breath that he took away.

“I promise you’ll be hearing from me soon. I already have your number,” he chuckled, still beaming. You watched as he walked down the hallway away from you, winking and blowing you a kiss before turning the corner. As soon as you entered the apartment, you slid down your front door, dizzy from the haze he had created in your head. You couldn’t wait to see him again.

***

After that night, you couldn’t believe someone like him kept coming back to someone like you. You insisted you were too boring for someone who had such an incredible personality and background. Yet three months later, he was yours and you were his.

You spent almost all your nights together, crammed into one of your small New York City apartments, wrapped in each other’s arms and hypothetically solving the world’s problems. You had learned in this time that Harry was incredibly intelligent and well spoken, no matter how long it took him to get his words out due to his slow cadence. In your conversations, you had come to the agreement that most of the world’s problems could be solved with a little empathy and that green was definitely the best color.

Tonight you laid naked in his bed, your head resting just above your favorite butterfly, and played with his fingers as you listened to him speak about postmodernism and how it rocked the art world. You didn’t understand a thing he was going on about but you loved to hear him speak, his voice vibrating through his chest and how he pulled on his bottom lip when he was thinking. You scanned the studio apartment from his bed, trying to pay attention but losing that battle. The floor was littered with finished and unfinished paintings leaning up against the walls and you noticed one familiar face you had grown fond of was missing.

“Where did your painting of Amelia go?” you asked when he took a second to breathe during his diatribe.

“I sold it,” he said curtly. You hadn’t talked much more about Amelia after that first night, the woman obviously being a sore spot, but you couldn’t help but wonder what happened.

“Oh, okay. I liked that painting a lot,” you spoke cautiously, trying not to hit whatever nerve you had previously.

“It was nice, but I think she should haunt someone else now,” he said with a sigh. Haunt?, you thought to yourself.

“H,” you began, rolling yourself off him to look him in the eye, “can I ask what happened with her?” You held your breath, afraid you might lose him to the heartbreak again.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s long gone.”

“Harry,” you lightly scolded him by using his full name which you rarely did, thinking back to when you agreed not to keep anything for each other. With a sigh, he began to speak.

“I was with her for a couple months last year and when I look back at it, it was really messy. We fought all the time and kept a lot from each other. But I had my rose colored glasses on and I would go as far as saying I was probably in love with her. I was even looking for engagement rings.” You felt a pang of jealousy within you at the idea of Harry loving anyone else. “That was until I found out that she already had a husband.”

Your heart broke for him after your initial shock, resting your hand on his warm cheek in an attempt to soothe him. He didn’t seem sad recounting the story or at the mention of her like he was before; he was now dealing with the remaining hurt of rejection.

“I painted her while I was still really mad,” he continued. “My original plan was to send it to her husband and tell him what had happened. But I decided that three lives didn’t need to be ruined instead of one. And then I was just kinda stuck with the painting. I thought selling it was a good way to get her out of my life and it’s more productive than lighting it on fire,” he finally said with a light chuckle.

A lot made sense all of a sudden. You now understood why Harry always got a little jealous when he saw other guys looking at you. He would loop an arm around your waist and press a kiss to your cheek while he stared them down. He thought you didn’t notice but you always did. You also understood why he was so open with you about how much he cared about you. It was a good thing you were equally as obsessed with him.

“I’m sorry, H. You didn’t deserve to go through all of that,” you said softly after a moment, unsure of what else you could offer.

“It’s okay. We grow from our past,” he shrugged. “And if I hadn’t painted her, I wouldn’t have found you,” he smiled sweetly, pulling you back into him and pressing his lips onto yours.

***

“Oh my goodness, what are you doing?” you giggled when Harry asked you to close your eyes.

“I have something to show you. Please close your eyes,” he asked again.

“What if I don’t want to close my eyes?” you teased, poking the dimple in his cheek caused by his cheeky grin. He rolled his eyes and began his plea again.

“Close your eyes, please. Do it.”

You gave in this time, closing your eyes and letting your heart flutter in anticipation. Harry knew you loved surprises and often took advantage of that fact. You felt him gently rest his cupped hands over your eyes, obviously not trusting you to not peak (he probably shouldn’t). He pressed himself to your back, urging you to make your way further into his apartment.

“Styles, if you let me walk into something, I swear to god,” you continued your giggling, overcome with excitement. Harry mumbled an ‘Oh, hush,’ in your ear before he stopped you both and lifted his hands away.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took it in. The painting was in Harry’s signature style, layered bright colors and varied textures across the canvas. Staring back was your own face, painted in a bright red monochrome with the exception of the color of your eyes that remained the same. You were posed with a bright smile that crinkled the skin by your eyes and you were wearing the red dress that you had worn that first night at the bar.

“Harry, oh my god. It’s so beautiful,” you managed to get out, still in shock.

“I know you don’t think you are, but are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t want anyone else in the world to be my muse.” You felt as if you could explode or melt with the amount of love you had for this man. You held him up on such a pedestal, and now you knew he did the same for you. “From the moment I saw you, I thought you were a work of art. So, I thought I’d actually make you into one.”

Your cheeks burned from the smile you couldn’t shake if you wanted to and you felt yourself get a little teary eyed. You felt as if you had spent the majority of your life thinking you were nothing special and just another person walking down the street. Harry made you feel like you were the center of the universe. You wanted to love yourself like Harry loved you; like you loved him.

“I love you,” you blurted, small tears rolling down your face, wiped away by Harry’s talented hands.

“I love you too,” he murmured softly, pulling your body to his. “I’ll always have your face hung up high in my gallery.”

There she is!! I hope you enjoyed it!! You can let me know what you think here!! :)

#harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles drabble #harry styles burb #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry fan fic #one direction #one direction fan fiction #harryandhockey

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pro-fangirls-unsocial-life · 3 years

Text

Overload

A/N: Hello everyone! Look at me! Being productive! So this a fic inspired by THIS amazing art by @sorry-but-no-sorry of Hunter. I hope you guys enjoy! This one was a bit personal to write, cause I pulled some of the feeling described from my own experiences with panic attacks and sensory overload but I hope its still good all the same! And a big thanks to @captainrexisboo, my sword wife, for helping me out with one of the scenes!

Length: ~2200 words

Warnings: descriptions of panic attacks and sensory overload. Angst. Hurt/comfort.

“Hunter!”

Though each and every clone valued their name more than life itself, Hunter wanted nothing more than to be nameless in this moment. Every time the syllables came tumbling from his brothers mouths and crashing into his ears, it was like thousands of shrieking whistles all began their assault on his senses at once.

They all still smelled from their most recent mission. Hunter could make out every scent that they had brought back with them as they all mixed together and bombarded his nose. He could feel every single spec of grime that was caked onto his body. The way that it cracked as he moved felt like a million tiny blades all piercing his skin at once.

He was too hot and too cold all at once. The sweat slowly making its way down his forehead left a searing imprint on his mind as he tried to force himself to ignore it. He needed to keep being strong, to be the image of composure that his brothers needed him to be.

He still had to deliver his report to Admiral Tarkin, a feat that was never easy. The admiral's cold gaze would always burn right through him and would send waves of pure panic coursing through his veins. Like a predator stalking its prey.

Tarkin knew he had this effect on the Sergeant regardless of his desperate attempt to hide it, and he used it to his full advantage. The moment Hunter's image appeared in front of him, he would begin doing everything that he could to send him spiraling. This new clone force was far too successful, and he needed something to try and prove their inadequacy.

Hunter knew what Tarkin was doing. He knew that if he let his panic slip through the cracks in his mask, things would only get worse for him and his brothers. So, he would not let himself break. He would not give Tarkin the satisfaction of seeing him fall apart. He became the perfect soldier, shoving everything down until he could be alone, pleading with his mind to show him even the slightest bit of mercy.

The meetings would always be a blur in the moment but as they carried on, they would be forcefully engraving themselves into his mind, not granting him the small bit of solace he craved once they were finally over.

He would always send the others to go relax while he finished the briefing, always thanking every God he could think of when they chose to go outside.

He almost didn’t hear the sneering “very good Sergeant” that was spit out at him before the screen flashed to black over the panic that had broken through his defenses and had begun making its way back into the forefront of his mind.

But the second the image of the admiral was no longer plastered across the screen and the hurricane of sounds and frequencies had finally stopped coming through the speakers, Hunter forced out the breath he had been holding, now gasping for air inside the empty ship as everything came rushing through his now broken barrier.

He tore off his armor, letting each piece tumble to the metal floor with a loud clang. He rolls the sleeves of his blacks up to his elbows, not knowing if he feels comforted or completely overwhelmed by the feeling of the fabric on his skin.

The light was blinding, shining brightly into his eyes like a star gone supernova.

Everything is too much. Even though the ship is almost completely silent of everything but his shuddering breaths, every sound thunders against his eardrums, echoing throughout his mind and making him feel as if he is being hit upside the head with a brick with every new vibration.

The steady hum of the ship’s machinery, a sound that is soothing to others, now roars in his mind with no end in sight. The rhythmic drip of a leak that they have been meaning to fix, once a welcomed background noise, now a piercing spear through his head. His own heartbeat, the only real thing he has to himself, the sound he finds solace in while he tries to will himself to sleep and while blocking out the darkness that threatens to consume him, now an endless assault that has risen in his ears, trying to drag him toward a never-ending expanse of torture.

His hands didn’t feel like his own. They were heavy, weighted bags that dragged his spirit down. He felt his soul trying to leave through his throat.

Shaking. Everything was shaking. His teeth, his fingers, his shoulders. As if he could reset, he tried to focus the energy; recalibrate his hands by flinging out his wrists.

In that single movement, everything came crashing down, and a wave of emotion he’d been keeping at bay tore through him in a ripping shout. A shout that reverberated off the walls of the small space, coming back toward him to assault his ears once again.

His ears were ringing. Every ripple of sound, every nauseating smell in the air, every feeling of every substance that was plastered to his skin was attacking him from every direction.

He heard his name called from outside accompanied by far off footsteps and his hands flew up to his ears while his eyes screwed shut. He began pressing his palms up against the sides of his head so forcefully, that his whole body began to shake.

He fell to his knees, each muffled call of his name rapping against his head, causing him to curl in on himself and making his forehead come to rest against the cold, grimy floor.

He felt like he was drowning. With each gasping breath he took, it felt as though more and more weight was being cruelly added to the suffocating press on his chest. The feeling of tears beginning to roll down his face registered in his mind, adding to the uncontrollable spiral that he was being dragged down without mercy.

More voices. More footsteps. More unbearable, ear-piercing noise.

“Hunter? You ok?” Echo carefully walked up the steps of the ship, scanning the area just inside, looking for the origin of the shout he had heard. “Hunter? I, oof—”

He toppled to the ground, turning to look at what had tripped him and finding Hunter's helmet at his feet. It was then he heard a tiny whimper come from across the ship. A whimper so soft that he almost didn’t hear it over the ships steady hum.

He looked up, finding Hunter's trembling form curled up on the floor, his hands pressed to his ears and a sheen of sweat covering his body.

“Hunter,” he asks, concern creeping its way into his voice. “Hunter?”

Another small whimper falls from Hunter's lips, his body flinching each time Echo says his name.

Echo scrambles over to Hunter, his hands hovering over Hunters back, not touching him. He stops, thinking back to when he would walk in on Hardcase in this same position, before lowering himself down so that he is lying on his stomach on the floor.

“Hunter?”

Hunter flinches again, his muscles straining as he presses his hands impossibly harder up against his head.

“Hunter,” he whispers again, trying to get a look at his brother's face.

“I-Its s-so loud,” Hunter chokes out. He gasps for breath, more tears falling from his face onto the floor. “I-I want it to s-stop. M-make it s-stop.”

“I know. I know,” Echo softly says. “Let’s get you to your room. You’ve sound proofed it yeah?”

Hunter takes a few heaving breaths before nodding his head.

“Ok,” Echo says. “Now, I’m gonna have to touch you to help you get there. Is that alright?”

Two more rasping breaths before another nod.

“Ok. I’m going to get up and go turn off the lights before I come back and help you to your room. Ok?”

Another nod.

Echo quickly pushes himself up as quietly as he can before making his way over to the light panel. He flips a switch, turning off the main lights and leaving only that night cycle floor lights glowing. He gives his eyes a moment to adjust before making his way back over to Hunter.

He crouches down, pressing himself to the floor again. “I’m going to touch you now so I can get you to your room. Ok?”

Hunter nods, flinching slightly when he feels Echo’s hands gently touching his body.

Echo slowly pulls him up off of the floor, not wanting to overwhelm Hunter more than he already is, before carefully guiding him down the hall toward his room.

When they finally make it to the end of the hall, Echo presses the panel for Hunter's door and it whishes open, causing Hunter to flinch in pain at the sound. They make their way over to the bed and Echo sits him down on the edge, crouching down so that he is looking up at Hunter.

“Do you want the boots off?”

Hunter nods, cringing as he feels the movement against his skin and the sound of his boots and socks being set at the end of his bed.

“The bandana?”

Another nod.

Echo reaches up and carefully pulls the fabric, now soaked in sweat, off of Hunter's head and places it on the shelf next to the bed.

“Alright,” Echo whispers. “I need you to stay sitting up for just one second while I go get something to help you. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Hunter gives a small nod, and Echo quickly exits the room.

He hears water running and the sound of something being rung out. It is far away, but still rippling loudly in his mind. He reaches his hands back up to cover his ears and once again, screws his eyes shut. He hears Echo making his way back, being careful not to make any noise.

Opening his eyes once he hears Echo step into the room, he sees him holding a washcloth and a glass of water.

Echo comes back down to kneel in front of Hunter, offering him the glass. “Do you think you can drink some of this for me?”

Hunter reaches out, grasping tightly at the glass being lightly pushed into his hand. “I’ll try,” he says, his voice soft and breaking.

He shakily brings the water up to his mouth and presses the cold hard glass against his lips, taking a small sip.

“Good,” Echo says with a small smile. “Very good.”

Hunter hands the glass back to Echo, his hands still shaking. Echo takes it, and lightly sets it on the shelf next to Hunter's bandana.

“I think you should lie down and try to get some rest now.”

Hunter weakly nods, swinging his legs onto the bed and placing his head on the pillow.

“Do you want the blanket?”

Hunter shakes his head no.

“Alright,” Echo says softly. “I have a wet washcloth here. Do you want it for your head?”

He nods and closes his eyes, sighing as Echo gently moves his hair out of the way and places the cool washcloth on his forehead.

“Alright. I’m going to go send the guys into town so that you’ll have some quiet. I’ll stay here and be just down the hall if you need me, ok?”

Hunter nods, his breathing beginning to even out. He hears Echo take a breath before standing and quietly tiptoeing out of the room.

“Echo,” Hunter gently says, opening his eyes slightly.

Echo stops in the doorway, turning questioningly to Hunter.

“Thank you.”

Echo gives him a small, warm smile. “Get some rest vod’ika.”

Hunter smiles and closes his eyes, laying his head back on the pillow.

With that, Echo walks back out to the main area of the ship, leaving Hunter's door open so it won’t make any more noise as it closes. He goes outside and gives his three brothers some credits and tells them to spend the day in town.

“Make sure you stay out of trouble,” he calls after them.

Wrecker looks back over his shoulder and laughs. “When have we ever?”

Echo shakes his head and chuckles, climbing back up into the ship, careful to avoid Hunter's armor on the floor. He could take care of it later when it wouldn’t make so much noise for Hunter.

He walks down the hall quietly, peaking in to check on Hunter. His chest steadily rises and falls as he breathes in and out. His head is angled slightly toward the door and his mouth is hanging slightly open.

Echo smiles and goes back out to the main area, sitting down in a chair. He picks up his data pad and opens up his copy of his favorite book.

It was one that Fives had picked out when they were on leave after their first mission as ARC troopers. Nothing special. Just a typical hero’s journey fantasy adventure. But to Echo, it was the best book in the entire universe.

He opens it up to the page he left off on and takes a deep breath, angling his head toward the ceiling. He smiles. “Just like old times, aye Fives?”

He looks back down, taking another deep breath before diving back into the fantastic adventure that he and Fives always happily shared together, feeling his brother in every word as he peacefully read in silence.

#sergeant hunter #the bad batch #arc trooper echo #echo #hunter #panic attack tw #sensory overload tw #overload #my writing

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glassheartjukebox · 3 years

Text

the art of obliviousness

feat. ushijima

a/n: aoba johsai, specifically makki, being a good friend! makes! my! heart! go! ba boom! reblogs are always appreciated. find the rest of the soulmate au special here

2k words

6 fucking tallies. the marks on your arm mocked you, letting you know the opportunity to meet your twin flame slipped through your fingers like sand over and over and over again.

III

excitement overwhelmed your body when you stripped down after a long day and noticed the first three marks on your forearm. most people didn’t meet their soulmate on the first pass (or in your case, three passes in one day), but this meant he was definitely in miyagi.

to makki:my tallies showed up !!!

to makki: [image attachment]

From makki: aye thats great

from makki: watch it be the obnoxious johzenji guy who wouldnt take a hint

to makki: why would you wish that on me

to makki: best friend card = revoked

from makki: be still my beating heart.

from makki: you’ve wounded me

you giggled lightly, reminiscing on the events of the day

the volleyball tournament was brutal. aoba johsai lost their chance to go to nationals. your throat was raw from screaming and cheering for them. nonetheless, you were proud of your boys. oikawa put in his all, iwaizumi was blossoming into a great future ace, and makki and mattsun’s blocks were immaculate. you were sure by the next tournament they could destroy shiratorizawa.

transferring to aoba johsai in your second year and meeting makki changed your life for the better. he’d roped you into managing their rowdy team. you had to admit, the other volleyball teams were… intimidating. the tall guys from the other teams towered over almost everyone and walked around with stern looks on their faces. even worse were the guys that hit on you despite your obvious manager uniform (iwaizumi helped you to fend them off). the most physically imposing team by far was shiratorizawa. their stony faced ace and crackhead-esque middle blocker were jarring to say the least. but at least they were professional and polite to you. (expressing the sentiment earned you the privilege of dealing with a pouty oikawa).

your first tournament was a whirlwind. you had barely registered anything other than encouraging your boys. it was all so intense. checking your arm for tally marks wasn’t exactly your priority, especially with your tracksuit jacket on. consequently, you weren’t too discouraged by the three marks glaring back at you from your arms. you would find him eventually

IIII

the first tournament of your third year had commenced and the pressure was on. oikawa’s intensity was enough to make you want to tear your hair out. he was now not only determined to beat his long time rival ushijima, but some random underclassman setter from karasuno. nonetheless, makki had your back and reminded you to occasionally check your arms for tally marks in case your soulmate was once again in attendance. thus far, the stubborn three marks glared back on you. soon enough, your manager duties consumed you. you held iwaizumi back from killing oikawa in front of his beloved fan club. as soon as oikawa and yahaba eyed kiyoko, karasuno’s manager, you grabbed the back of their jerseys.

“don’t even fucking think about it,” you gave them both a stern look.

“but why-” oikawa started to whine and you cut him off. “think about how angry you get when someone bothers me. give her the same respect.”

both boys sulked off, dejected. iwaizumi clapped you on the shoulder and gave you an appreciative smile.

the match between karasuno and aoba johsai was absolutely brutal. the neck and neck competition had you sweating from the sidelines, watching the teams barely hold their composure. when the short redhead’s spike got blocked and aoba johsai got the winning point, your body moved on its own. you ran straight over the boys, hugging them as tightly as you could.

a shiver ran through your body and your hairs stood on end. it felt like someone was watching you. glancing over your shoulder, you caught a glimpse of someone in a purple tracksuit leaving the stands. you shook your head at your paranoia. of course you were being watched, you were standing on the court with the winning team.

after the match, the team was eating and taking bathroom breaks. during a rare moment of solitude between you and makki, you leaned over and whispered, “do you really think he's here?”

He looked back at you and rolled his eyes, “only one way to tell,” gesturing to your right arm. letting out a deep breath, you slipped off your jacket. the tallies had climbed from three to four. makki grinned at you.

“have i mentioned how much i hate this soulmate system?” you huffed. makki simply ruffled your hair.

IIIII

somehow, the aftermath of the match was even more hectic than the match itself. you had so much paperwork to sort out, so many water bottles to fill, and a large group of boys who you had to babysit. that’s how you found yourself briskly walking through the halls of the stadium, praying no one would bother you. the seven full water bottles and stack of paper teetering in your arms were incredibly heavy. if someone came over to make idle chat with you, you decided you would bark at them. your patience was fraying from your own anxiety over the coming matches. of course, there was a wall of purple jacket adorned jocks crowded around right where you needed to walk.

your annoyance completely masked your judgement and you walked right through them, muttering very blunt “excuse me’s” the whole way through. You finally emerged from the large group of guys when your brushed shoulders with someone, effectively causing you to drop everything in your arms.

“fuck,” you muttered, dropping to your knees and trying desperately to pick up all the papers and bottles littered around your feet.

a large figure appeared next to you on the floor.

“im sorry, that was my fault,” a deep voice rumbled from next to you, causing you to jolt. a calloused hand brushed over your own, handing you a messily gathered stack of papers. you looked up and made eye contact with shiratorizawa’s illustrious captain. You were overcome with embarrassment.

“thank you,” you said quietly before quickly making your escape. upon returning to your team, oikawa immediately noticed how flustered you were.

‘oh manger-chan, what got blushing?” your patience was entirely gone, as you shoved the papers into oikawa’s hands and put down the water bottles.

“im going to the bathroom” you growled, glaring at oikawa. as you stomped away, you heard iwaizumi smack the back of oikawa’s head and scold him.

you splashed your face with cold water, overwhelmed. the pressure of manager duties mixed with your lack of professionalism in your interaction with ushijima had you feeling inadequate. your desperation about finding your soulmate clouded your judegment. you knew full well this might be your last chance to find him for a long time. if he was a third year, he likely would not be at the spring tournament. composing yourself, you stood straight and pieced together your put together facade. outside of the bathroom, makki was waiting you.

“spill. what happened.” a looked at you with masked concern. you explained the past ten minutes to him and expressed your worries.

“the team appreciates you, you know. i dont know what they would do without you. and if you dont meet him today, fate will bring you together. likely sooner rather than later.” makki said as he pulled you into a hug.

“really? sooner rather than later? what is that supposed to mean?” you snorted. makki only responded with another pointed look at your arm.

“are you fucking kidding me? i missed him again?” you grumbled.

“dont worry your pretty little head about it,” makki gave you a knowing smirk. what the hell was that supposed to mean?

IIIIII

6 fucking tallies. the marks on your arm mocked you, letting you know the opportunity to meet your twin flame slipped through your fingers like sand over and over and over again. your frustration had built and you found yourself crying with the rest of them after their loss to shiratorizawa. the third years vowed to stay for the spring inter high tournament, and you let out a sigh of relief. you had one more tournament with your boys. fuck a romantic soulmate. you had your platonic ones right here.

you all slowly exited the gym and you once again retreated to the bathroom, freshening up and removing your jacket. you were far too sweaty from anxiety and hugging the boys.

you looked down at the six tallies, resigned. it was whatever. shit happens.

you were met with both makki and mattsun whispering when you exited. you raised your brow, suspicious of the plotting best friends.

“y/n! come on, we’re going for a walk before we have to get on the bus,” makki softly smiled, clearly exhausted.

“i’ll hold your jacket,” matsukawa piped up, taking it from your arms. you three walked through the halls, idly chatting to distract yourselves from the somber feeling in your chests. rounding the corner, you stiffened. at the start of the secluded hallway stood shiratorizawa. the two boys on either side of you were strangly calm, as if they knew this would happen

“let’s take another route,” you suggested, wanting to save them from the exasperation of passing the winning team.

“it’s fine y/n,” makki smiled at you, gripping your arm. as you passed shiratorizawa, his grip became damn near painful.

“ow makki what the fuck-“ you started looking down to rub at the now sore skin on your arm. you froze. IIIIIII. it stared back at you, mocking you. you turned around and walked by the group of boys again, staring at your arm. another tally appeared.

IIIIIIII

you glanced between your arm and the boys, clearly panicked. makki and mattsun watched from a distance, slightly amused by your reaction. however, their eyes were not the only one on you. the “guess monster” had quickly figured out why you were pacing by them, staring intently at your arm. he counted eight marks. he subtly glanced at his teammates forearms, earning some confused looks. wakatoshi, ever clueless, had completely missed the marks building up on his arm.

tendou grabbed him and rubbed at his forearm.

“tendou, what do you need,” his voice tapered off as he noticed the marks. with tendou’s obvious looks between him and the pretty girl standing on the other side of the hallway, he quickly realized what was happening.

internally you were freaking out. how the fuck were you supposed to know which one of the 10+ boys standing in front you were your soulmate? should you just walk up and ask?

you were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice the tall man approach you until he was looming over you.

“may i see your arm?” for the second time today, ushijima startled you. without thinking you held it out. his strong hands grazed tallies on your arm. to your surprise he leaned down and placed a kiss on the marks adorning your skin and glanced back at you with a soft look in his eyes.

“hello, i’m ushijima. i never caught your name.”

“it’s y/n,” you breathed out, relieved. then it hit you.

“oikawa is going to kill me!” you squealed. ushijima looked back at you quizzically, “why does it matter so much?”

“you two are rivals,” the exasperation was clear in your voice. ushijima just responded by knitting his eyebrows together, clearly not understanding why this had you distraught. “you don’t have to deal with him pouting and being a brat over this, i do,” you said with wide eyes. ushijima just chuckled at you. he took out his phone and handed it to you, “put your number in, i want to see my soulmate again soon,” he paused, then added, “you could come to our celebratory dinner with us.”

you looked at him incredulously, then gestured to your uniform. he simply squeezed your hand and pulled you into a surprisingly firm hug. leaning down so his lips were level with your ear, he whispered, “oikawa is going to have to cope with this. i don’t want to lose you. what are you doing tonight?”

“after i spend time with my team? nothing as far as i know,” you answered honestly.

“meet me at the park, i want to get to know you,” he stated bluntly. ushijima was full of rough edges and unending honesty. for the third time today, he had you flushing. you were sure it wouldn’t be the last.

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heliosthegriffin · 3 years

Text

A blade should be sharp at all times

Marrows up to the group, his tail wagging ecstatically behind him: You guys want to play a prank on Juan?

Ren and Nora’s eyes narrow, but they say nothing.

Flynt, Cobalt, Ivory, Neon, Yang and Elm all look at him with obvious interest.

Harriet snorts dismissively: Why would I want to bother the new meat? He’s got enough problems as it is.

Winter nods her head in agreement.

Marrow’s tail stops wagging, as he looks offended: Because it would be funny!

Harriet rolls her eyes and walks away.

Marrow: Fine, be that way!

He turns back to the more interested members of the room: So, what about you guys? Wanna hear it?

Ren says nothing and Nora motions for him to continue: Depends on what the prank is?

Yang nods along: Yeah, Xiao-Long as it’s nothing too mean to Milf-Magnet.

The rest of the room groans; while Yang absorbs the life-force they’ve lost to her pun.

Marrow smiles and continues: It’s nothing too out there, it’s just an old Atlas military tradition, to see how prepared a recruit is for field work.

Ren rubs his chin: I don’t know, Jaune and the rest of us have spent pretty of time in the field, he hardly ever leaves his armor, or his weapons besides when he cleans himself.

Marrows smile widens: That’s the idea!

Ren’s eyes widen in disbelief: You’re going to prank him in the showers?

Marrow doesn’t say a thing but his tail wags faster.

Ren groans and hold his face.

Nora though...

Her face splits into a manic grin as she starts cackling wildly, falling onto her back as she laughs so hard.

Ren shakes his head in leaves.

Marrow points his hand at Ren: STAY!

Ren freezes in place.

Marrow a little sheepishly: Uh, can’t have you spoiling the surpise, sorry.

Nora still keeps on laughing.

Ren’s pink eyes sparkle briefly, then a magenta pulse of aura breaks Marrows hold on him.

Marrows eyes widen in disbelief.

Ren rolls his neck and scowls at Marrow: Believe it or not, having strong aura control is just as important as a strong semblance.

Marrow falls to his knees, his tail desperately waving behind him: Please, please, don’t tell Joanna!

Ren shakes his head and leaves.

Nora: Don’t worry, he won’t say a thing or do anything, in fact, neither will I. Have fun kids.

Nora then follows Ren out.

The room goes silent.

Yang: Well, that’s ominous.

She then notices Winter is still in the room.

Yang: Why are you still here?

Winter huffs: To make sure you all don’t go too far with your ‘Prank’. I will observe and intervene should you all go to far.

Marrow cheers: Yay! Alright, everyone here is how it’ll work. Flynt, Ivory, and Cobalt, you three will being most of the legwork. Cobalt and Ivory, find Jaune and tell him he’s got special permission to use the Specialist private bathrooms, Flynt I want you to hide in the bathroom and use your semblance to make it seem like we’re under attack to scare him out.

Marrow takes a breath and turns to Neon, Yang and Elm: Here’s you girls is part, to really sell it I want you all to make sound noises and make it seem like you’re fighting, then when Joe runs out from the showers I’ll make his freeze, then you girls can throw cold water on him! He’ll be so embarrassed!

Ivory and Cobalt shrug, though Flynt, Neon and Yang seem a little put off.

Neon: I don’t know, seem a little mean spirited.

Flynt: Yeah, we’re not best friends and all, but I don’t want to embarrest the guy.

Yang scratches her chin: It doesn’t seem very, cool thing to do to a friend.

Elm though looked excited: Don’t worry! This is nothing, what’s a little nudity between comrades! If you’re out in the field and not prepared to fight at anytime, even naked, or if you get embarrassed by your comrades seeming you nude, you’re not cut out for being a Hunter. Hell, all of the Ace-Ops have done it. Even Winter!

The sound of a sword leaving it’s sheath rang out.

Winter says says menacingly. I made you promise to never speak of it again, all of you.

Elm: Oops.

Marrow waves them off: Whatever! Anyway this is just a rite of passage in Atlas, come on guys it’ll be a laugh.

The group thinks it over and eventually complies.

Marrow: Alright! Lets get this show on the road!

--------

Ivory and Cobalt escort Jaune through the halls.

Jaune: Wow, Gen. Ironwood really said I could use the Specialist Showers? That’s really kind of him!

Ivory nods and smiles: Gen. Ironwood always takes care of his own.

Cobalt taps Jaune’s shoulder and gives him a approving look.

Cobalt: Deserve it, hard training and self-improvement are their own reward. But, Top Brass notice.

Jaune’s cheek glow slightly, a slight smile forming: Thanks, It really hard sometime, you know, to be able to see that I’ve improved, heh, no matter how much I feel like i’ve grown, I still feel like a waste of space and a burden on my team.

The group comes to a stop, Ivory and Cobalt looking slightly uncomfortable now.

Jaune turns around flashing them a pleasant grin, “Well, thanks guys. I’ll make sure to tell the General thanks, and that I won’t disappoint his trust for giving me a chance to be Huntsman.

Ivory and Cobalt say nothing and nod.

Jaune then enters the private bathroom.

Cobalt and Ivory look at each other.

Ivory: Are we the baddies?

Cobolt: Yes, but better him, than us.

Ivory sighs and taps his wrist, a small ringing occurs.

Ivory: The target is in position.

-------

Jaune walks through the state of the art bathroom humming a pleasent tune, completely unaware of the watching eyes on him.

He goes into a stall and undresses, the prying eyes losing sight of him.

Jaune then leaves the stall a towel wrapped around his waist and goes the hi-tech showers, another towel bundled in his arms.

Flynt watches Jaune enter the shower stall and sighs deeply, he liked Jaune, he really did, a decent guy all-around. But, if it kept others from seeing’s Flynt’s birthmark for another day, he would do what must be done.

He used his semblance, dividing himself into four copies of himself and then took off running inbetween the stalls.

Flynt x4: We’re under attack!

As Flynt came to the end of the room, he was not prepared for what happened next.

--------

Neon and Yang sparred with Elm in the changing room, where Jaune would have to enter to get dressed, trying to create as authenity as possible combat sounds.

Elm grabbed Yangs right hook and swung her into Neon.

Elm smiles: Got to be quicker than that.

Yang and Neon got off of each other and squared up for round two.

Marrow whispered yelled at them: It’s time! Get into postion, I just heard Flynt.

The girls and Elm nodded picking up bucket of ice-water while Marrow got ready to freeze Jaune. With Marrow having to stop himself from cracking up at the thought of Jaun’s expression.

Yang looked slightly recluntant, but the idea of a good prank won out.

Winter sighed in the corner ready to stop the prank if it goes to far, and hopefully preserve some decency.

The wall to the showers exploded out towards them, a spray of dust and stone and metal sharpnel covering the room, as heavy wet foot steps ran towards them as bellowing war howl echoed out from the destroyed room.

A figure running through the cloud of dust glowing a faint golden white, carrying a mechashifted sword in two hands over his head, the blade glowing blue from the hardlight dust along with gravity dust purple in the middle.

Jaune then leaps out of the dust howling: Just try and take them from me again you bastards! I’ll split you in twain, I’ll break you over my knees and slay you! I won’t let you take them from me again!

The group stands dazed as Jaune runs straight through them and through a wall, completely naked, his towel being shredding into binding that tied his meaty tube of a cock to his lower-thigh, while holding his sword overhead before slashing in front of him creating a hole for him to jump out into the campus.

A blush creeps up the faces of those present.

Marrow burst out laughing: That was amazing! Did anyone, get a picture?

Elm falls to her knees: I think I’m in love?

Neon shake her head sadly: No, I was too... Mesmerized.

Yang: So that’s why he wears two belts.

Winter...

Winter has disappeered.

------

Later that evening....

Atlas Reporter: A well-known Huntsman known as Jaune Arc has gone on a murderous Grimm-Hunting rampage all while streaking! What will those crazy kids think of next! Next on the block, pregnancy rates in Mantle having been climbing by over 750% over the last six hours, is this related to the previous new? The Answer may surprise you.

Ren flicks the Scroll-Box closed.

He then rests his head on Nora’s shoulder.

Ren: Yep, it happened again.

Nora: We did nothign to stop it.

Ren: We could have warned them... But, better they learn first hand.

Nora: You did it because you thought it was funny, don’t you dare lie to me.

Ren smiles as he opens the scroll so that Nora can see, the Scroll showing a madly blushing Winter chasing after Jaune in a Bullhead, providing both aerial support, and firing t-shirt and boxer shorts at him, while he rampages through a horde of Grimm.

Ren smirking and pulling Nora close: You know me too well.

#Jaune Arc

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