#just realized they both have vision problems… lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamwritesimagines · 2 years

Text

only Cherie would need another room just for planning. “Elias told you that Anthony had accepted every demand of your father.” Anthony Impatient™️ Bridgerton everyone lmao he just wants this over and done with like as soon as possible. he’s got tunnel vision, he just wants to marry Cherie no matter what. he’s not even reading anything. the settlement could have it in there that he has to sacrifice a kidney and he wouldn’t even second guess LMAO.

“Anthony I have terrible news!” she almost gave Anthony a heart attack jfc ksksks why would she do that LMAO. “…That’s the terrible news?” YES ANTHONY IT IS. WHAT ELSE COULD IT BE??? i love how their worries are on different planets lmao. Anthony's terrible news is that Percy changed his mind and he would have to go to Gretna Green meanwhile Cherie...her veil not being finished on time, of course. but omg, this whole conversation just shows who’s the dramatic one and who’s the logical one on SOOOO many levels LMAAAO. the fact that she’s willing to sacrifice her frickin firstborn to church all for her veil and then Anthony just...gives a quick solution with no sweat at all. well, no sweat but a whole lot of Harlotness™️ that's for sure. he just can’t keep his hands to himself can’t he?? Obsessed Harlotness™️ Counter: Anthony - 1 | Cherie - 0

OH MY FUCKING GOD BWAHWJDSKJDAJVDHQKD ANTHONY WHAT !! IS !! IN !! YOUR !! POCKET?!?!?!? ALKSALSK HELP I CAN’T BWAHAHAHAHAHH it’s The Symbol of Whorism™️ Cherie, that’s what’s in his pocket. “Darling,” he said, somehow breathlessly. “You might want to stop moving.” SHE IS KILLING HIM AND SHE DOESN’T EVEN KNOOOOOW. Obsessed Harlotness™️ Counter: Anthony - infinity & beyond | Cherie - 0. he wins this chapter i’m sorry sklssks oh Benedict, idk if you’ve saved him or cockblocked him. both i think. LMAO he’s hiding it behind the desk i caaaan’t. this it too funny kskskss

TEN (10) !!! nightgowns?? why spend so much on that? when it’s going to end of on the floor either way??? alksalkslkasakslks sorry sorry. ANYWAYS THAT’S STILL SO MANY??? “Dear God, he will spoil you rotten.” i mean, isn’t she already?? ksksks Anthony’s already going above and beyond and they’re not even married yet. i mean in his eyes they already are but legally, not yet.

“It’s sheer.” well, you won’t be wearing it for long tho so there’s really nothing wrong with it sksks. i love how clueless she is. like, i really want a whole scene dedicated to her just realizing everything after their honeymoon just how clueless she’d been around Anthony and her just remembering every single innuendo Anthony hinted at her before. i can see her walking into his study all shocked saying, “You had too much fun with me asking you to take me to a brothel, didn’t you?” skskks it’s just too funny to think about.

“It’s a nightgown for your honeymoon,” she reminded you. “What did you expect to wear? An actual gown?” oh Anthony would NOT like that skslsk i’m pretty sure he’d complain that there’s so many thing to undo and yada yada yada and he’ll get the scissors and Cherie would be so offended of him trying to hurt her gown and it’ll be a problem LMAO

“not to…rip easily. You know newlyweds.” AUNT LAVINIA SKSKSKSK tho i don’t think any type of fabric would stop Anthony The Obsessed Harlot™️ Bridgerton. if he wants it ripped, it will be ripped LMAO. “That Anthony won’t rip them off in the haste to get you out of them.” hmm, maybe an armor would do sksksk

“No, I don’t think Anthony wants to see me without my clothes on.” oh he’s been seeing/dreaming you without clothes on so i highly doubt he won’t want to see the real thing, i mean, Cherie, you saw his pocket earlier so LAKSLAKSLASK i know Cece is just DYING to tell her but it’s still two weeks out so patience <3

ugh. why is she here. she’s just ruined my mood completely. i won’t even name her. she’s not worth the effort to type lmao. “He might love you for now, yes. But that’s not the same as desiring you.” hmm, idk about you ma’am but your logic is a bit skewed. wanna know why?? bc you’re not getting both from your husband sooooooooo you don’t really have a say in that. UGH I HATE HER. SHE’S SUCH A JEALOUS BITCH AND I;M JUST CAN SHE FUCK OFF. she’s not even speaking the truth like my GOD. ask Anthony’s pocket, i’m sure it will prove his desires sksksksk (i’m sorry dee but i’m not going to let this pocket thing go it’s too funny)

“So I must ask. Should I send the invitation for you and your husband, or you, your husband and his mistress?” YES. YOU TELL HER!!! now THAT stung bc she knows it’s the TRUTH. “I hope it hurts.” omg.. does she mean like, the consummation? if so then :// bc she’s speaking from experience right? and like, i want to feel bad her but then. BUT BUT if she just means Cherie and Anthony's marriage in general then sorry ma’am, that ain’t happening. these two are far too in love unlike you.

but ugh, i hate how she’s just put those insecurities back especially when Cherie knows so little. like i’m sure everyone can see how much of a Cherie Whore™️ Anthony is with the way he just looks at her but she just thinks it’s admiration and love. and yes, it is, but it’s also Carnal Lust™️ and Desires™️ madam. Anthony loved you yes, but did he want you? YES. YES HE DOES. ASK HIS POCKET DAMMIT SKSKSK. tho i’m sure Anthony will be quick to reassure her of that.

“What happened?” he’s just so attentive aah i love him. like he just knows right away that something is bothering her.

“See through, you say?” ugh, Anthony will you stop thinking with your pocket for a second lmao. “Do you want me?” LSAKSLASKK SHE CAN’T JUST ASK THAT. god she’s going to kill him before the wedding idk what’s going to happen to him after LMAO. “I’ve never loved or desired anyone more in my life.” see??? “I’m nearly going insane here.” SEEE??? his pocket is about to Bust™️ LMAAAO but god this whole conversation is HILARIOUS. “I will enlighten you about that really soon.” oh god Anthony WHY DID U HAVE TO USE THAT WORD YOU WHORE™️??? we’re preparing for The Enlightenment™️ is that it then? that’s why that chapter is called Preparations? kslaksla i’m kidding, i’m kidding. we can NEVER be prepared when that time comes LMAO

“You could enlighten me tonight, you know?” CHERIE BWAHAHAHA it’s even funnier that SHE DOESN’T FUCKING KNOW WHAT SHE’S ASKING OF HIM. you are killing you future husband madam. “You deserve better than some stolen moment.” oh pls <33 look at this growth. honestly, who is this man. WHAT DID U DO TO MY OBSESSED HARLOT™️? lmao he’s being The Gentleman™️ right now and i love it bc he’s in soooo much pain while doing it lololol. “We’re going to another room with people in it before I give in to my desire and decide to enlighten you right here.” OOP. NEVER MIND. HE’S HERE. THE OBSESSED HARLOT™️ IS HERE. lol he never left. can never take out The Whority™️ out of this man. “Trust me, you won’t have to remind me.” pretty much lmao that’s been on his mind BEFORE you were courting. i doubt he needed the reminder.

but god, this was such a fun read (apart from the bitch bit lmao) but aaah so the engagement ball is next chapter right? and then the wedding after that??? EITHER WAY I CANNOT WAIT OMG. The Talk™️ omg Elias and Percy crying??? Percy walking her down the aisle?????? there’s so many things that’s about to happen and i’m so excited!! <333 amazing chapter as always love!

– TM Anon™️

Omg omg darling helloooo! Aaaaaa I’m so excited for this! ❤

I doubt Anthony was even paying any attention during those settlement negotiations😂 Like, he wanted to sign it as soon as possible so that they wouldn’t have to delay the wedding even for a day, he was so impatient! 😂

Oh I think she will do that a lot! 😂 Like, they’re incredibly different than each other and Cherie likes to be dramatic, it runs in her family 😂 So they will be having conversations like those many times 😂

The Symbol of Whorism™ I AM DYING AT THIS! 😂

Obsessed Harlotness Counter is like going into overdrive whenever Cherie is near Anthony latelyyyy😏😈

TEN NIGHTGOWNS YES😍 That was probably Aunt Lavinia’s idea and it’s uncommon for sure😂 Other brides probably got like one or two for the honeymoon but Aunt Lavinia knows better, she saw how they were looking at each other 😂

Oh she will put the pieces together after the honeymoon😂 And Anthony will have so much fun with that😂

He will complain about how there are so many things to undo the moment she changes into anything other than her nightgowns during the honeymoon😂 And Cherie’s gowns are very, very important for her 😂

AN ARMOR LOLLLL😂😂😂

He has been dreaming about her nonstop for a while now 😏

Oh Miriam is so wrong about that!

does she mean like, the consummation? if so then :// bc she’s speaking from experience right? and like, i want to feel bad her but then. BUT BUT if she just means Cherie and Anthony's marriage in general then sorry ma’am, that ain’t happening. these two are far too in love unlike you. Oh no no, Miriam is actually not speaking from the experience BUT she’s heard it might happen during her “talk” before her own marriage. I don’t think it hurt her during her own consummation, it wasn’t unpleasant or anything but it lacked passion💔 So she’s basically wishing some horror story she heard on Cherie, not her own experience!

That definitely made Cherie very insecure! Everyone but her knows how much Anthony actually desires her but not her ❤

ASK HIS POCKET DAMMIT Lolllll this is so good! 😂😂

Anthony will you stop thinking with your pocket for a second HONEY YOU’RE HILARIOUS OMG😂😂

Anthony thought she was joking at first 😂 He couldn’t even believe she would ask him that, he thought it was very clear 😂

Enlightenment 😏😁❤

lmao he’s being The Gentleman™ right now and i love it bc he’s in soooo much pain while doing it lololol. EXACTLY! Especially after talking to her…😈

that’s been on his mind BEFORE you were courting. i doubt he needed the reminder. You’re absolutely right! 😂 Anthony has plans for the honeymoon for sure 😏

Yesssss, the engagement ball is next chapter and the wedding chapter after that! ❤❤ I’m so excited, I hope you’ll like them! ❤

Honeeey, you’re amazing and you’ve made my day with this, thank you so so much! ❤❤❤

11 notes · View notes

waheelawhisperer · 2 years

Note

Solid Ace Ops breakdown, and one that nuances the Minimum Force Ethics issue without going 'fuckin liberal kids shoulda been tagged & bagged'. I do think Yang would need initial surprise or *serious* cover not to get Stay'ed & sprayed by Marrow 1v1, but that semblance really is an aura/stamina hog. Great points about the Penny fight & its narrative beats; offhand, maybe that 'new priority' call & sword snitch could've been slotted in *before* Nora 'mutual killed' the door.

Gonna go ahead and answer this one since it'll be relatively short. I was considering the use of excessive/necessary force more from a legal perspective than an ethical one, to be honest, based on the guidelines set out in the United States Supreme Court cases Graham v. Connor (1989) and Tennessee v. Garner (1985) and the official use-of-force continuum provided by the U.S. Department of Justice. I won't get too deep into it here, but the basic idea is that law enforcement officers should use the minimum amount of force necessary to safeguard themselves and others or conduct an arrest, and that violence should be avoided when reasonably possible. Both the Fourth and the Eighth Amendment of the United States Constitution protect against unreasonable force.

From an ethical standpoint, I don't have a problem with the concept of law enforcement officers being allowed to use force. The law is inherently coercive, because living in a society with rules is better than anarchy and those rules are pointless if they aren't enforced. The problem I have with the state of modern policing is less that cops exist and are allowed to use force and more that American police in particular are less concerned about determining the appropriate amount of force to use in a given situation and more about using the maximum amount of it possible on minorities (and dogs, for some fucking reason). American policing needs one hell of a reform, but I don't think the concept of law enforcement is bad.

As for the point about Yang vs. Marrow, I think that if we look at Yang's fights, and her Volume 5 character short and her fight with Adam in Volume 6 in particular, we can see that she can move very quickly both side-to-side and diagonally, and her tendency to slide low would force Marrow to frequently readjust his field of vision. We also know from Marrow's fight with Weiss that Yang only has to dodge Freeze a couple times before Marrow starts running low on Aura. If Yang gets the jump on him or has access to any sort of decent cover, Marrow's screwed lmao.

I think restructuring the Penny vs. Ace-Ops fight the way you suggested absolutely could smooth out the narrative beats a bit there. I don't have any additional solutions myself because my brain doesn't work in the mornings and I hadn't really considered alternatives before breaking down the fight last night, but I do think having Nora/RWB escape the room just in time to realize they were too late to stop the Ace-Ops from getting what they wanted or believing that their presence had driven off the aggressors in time to save Penny without realizing that the Ace-Ops had actually accomplished their mission definitely could have generated an interesting narrative.

#rwby #analysis #yang xiao long #marrow amin #penny polendina

3 notes · View notes

bisluthq · 5 months

Note

Are you guys around the same age or is there an age gap? Ever since that one anon asked increasingly weird questions when you first came back, I don’t know how to ask you things without sounding creepy 😭

we have a fairly significant age gap (he’s older than me). I think when you’re both adults in fairly similar spaces in your life with similar goals and visions, it doesn’t much matter. We do have a financial gap, which in large part is the result of the age gap I suppose because he’s had more time to do stuff, but we just contribute to things proportional to our incomes and like if he were say a consultant at McKinsey and even a little younger than me that’d also be the case. I think I’m just a lil sensitive to it because of the age gap and possible optics thereof but so is he so as I say we contribute proportionally and are very open about finances. If we stay together, we can see us having a slight problem when he starts thinking about retirement (not happening soon but like one day) because the age gap would mean I probably wouldn’t be ready then. It’s a conversation we’ve had though and like since I mostly work remotely anyway, I dunno that it’d make a hell of a difference for that odd decade or so where I’m still working and he maybe isn’t.

Evidently I’m not anti age gaps, but I think a lot more thought has to go into a relationship where one is involved and that - for me, a consistently fickle and impulsive individual - has been really good. I also think if you’re in different life stages when it starts or you’re just very young (I mean 19 and 25 is 6 years but a bad idea and 33 and 39 isn’t even an age gap) then I’d personally pass on it. This is my first AGR.

When my ex and I moved in together, it was sorta on accident like we realized having two apartments was just not making fiscal sense and we both had roommates and we were like “why aren’t we each other’s roommates lmao” and leases were coming up to a close and so we just did it. We never properly discussed plans. When he and I moved in together, we spent a lot of time on like logistics and responsibilities and who would do what and who would pay for what and implications and consequences and shit. Part of it is we’ve both been burned before (he’s divorced, I have that ex) and part of it is imho the age gap and the fact that he doesn’t have as much time to fuck around lol and like if our visions are not aligning then it’s less worth it for him because I don’t think he wants like another failed serious relationship at his big age.

0 notes

id-rather-be-an-outsider · 2 years

Text

Respite Among Chaos | Pt 1

Porco Galliard x athlete!reader

summary: You’ve never had much reason to speak with Porco - that is, until you find yourself on common ground with him.

word count: 6630 (including words in text messages)

a/n: I had this idea at the same time as a smutty fic idea, I guess this is the soft fluffy fic to counteract it LMAO anyways, I hope ya’ll enjoy sweet Porco! reader is a survivor of abuse! there is one section where it’s discussed but it’s only a broad overview. that being said if the mention of abuse is triggering for you please be mindful and read at your own risk! I’m a survivor too, and it’s therapeutic for me to incorporate my life experiences into my writing, so if this writing resonates with any of you, I send you all my love 💕

masterlist

I’m a good person. I’m a good person, right? Right? Am I a good person? Or am I a bad person? Am I a bad person? I must be. I must be, otherwise why would he have said something like that? Reiner’s known to be a good guy, so why would he say something like that unless he meant it and it was true? I don’t want to be a bad person, I don’t want to end up alone, I don’t want everyone to hate me, I don’t want-

My spiral of anxiety causes my vision to go blurry enough from my tears that I don’t even see him coming. My train of thought ends when I walk face first into… “Porco?” I ask, eyes widening when I realize that yes, I did indeed bump into him. Immediately I look down, sideways, anywhere but at him when I’m just starting to cry. “Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Porco says, “Don’t worry, I wasn’t paying attention either. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I mumble, and he huffs out a light chuckle.

“Yea, and so is everyone else who says that when they’re on the verge of tears.” I sniff, trying to blink them away, worried someone will see me and be able to tell my emotional state if I were to wipe my eyes. “Hey, do you want a ride back to your dorm? I’m just walking to my car now, and I need to grab something from Pieck anyway. She’s your roommate, right?” I nod my head, but scratch at my arm, indecisive as ever.

“Are you sure?” I ask him. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to take me, or something.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Pieck said you and I have similar music tastes so I’ve been hoping to catch you at one point or another to swap playlists.” This comment temporarily distracts me from my upset, and my face heats up of its own accord. I always find it a little embarrassing when people say good things about me or hype me up to other people, which Pieck does all the time. We met in our senior years of high school and when we found out we were both going to Marley U, we decided to room together, and now we’re on year two of being roomies. She tries to get me to come around her friends all the time, but it can be hard. My anxiety makes it really difficult for me to make friends, partake in conversations, even just going out in public can be scary - so she’s always super happy when I do try.

I try, “Well, um, my phone’s dead, so I can’t really give you my playlist.”

Porco shrugs it off, replying, “Not a problem. We can just talk about whatever’s bothering you, then. Come on.” He motions for me to follow him, and I don’t want to be rude, so I do. It’s not that I don’t want a ride, it’s just… I don’t want to be a burden.

When we get to his car, a blue Chevy Malibu (how on earth he can afford it, I have no clue), he holds the passenger door open for me, not closing it until I’m all the way settled. I note that he has a laminated name card hanging from his rear view mirror reading, ‘Maliblue,’ and if I wasn’t feeling so shitty, I would probably laugh at the witty name for his car.

As he backs out of his parking spot, he says, “So, what happened to lead up to that?”

I play with a strand of my hair, braiding and unbraiding it. “It was nothing. I… I was just at practice, and Reiner… he…” I trail off when tears well up in my eyes, really not wanting to fall apart in Porco’s car.

While Porco drives, he takes a hand off the wheel and pats my shoulder. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be an emotionless wall, that’s not you. It’s not anyone.”

“Everyone else just seems to be better at not being overly emotional than me,” I confess. “If I didn’t have anxiety I feel like I wouldn’t be such a burden.”

“Burden?” He asks, not looking away from the road, but his eyes narrow and he furrows his brows in confusion. “From what I know, no one would describe you as a burden, y/n.”

“I don’t know, I still feel like I am.”

“Why?”

“Well, comments from Reiner telling me I ‘need to stop being an asshole and just worry about myself’ when I’m just trying to tell him we need to practice for the coed four by four don’t really make me feel great, and neither does him saying I’m ‘too emotional for a team sport,’ but I don’t know how to unpack that, so.” I sniff and wipe my eyes.

We pull up to a stoplight and Porco turns to look at me. “Are you fucking serious? Like, deadass, he actually said that to you?” He looks at me with a shocked expression, and I give a small nod, wiping the tears now openly flowing down my face. “What the fuck is wrong with him? Why? Why did he even say that? What even happened?”

I sniff again and my voice wavers as I say, “Me, Marcel and Ymir were practicing for the coed four by four, and Reiner is part of it, and he had spent like, half of the practice doing everything but practice with us and the rest of us were irritated that he didn’t seem to be taking it seriously, so while they were practicing their handoffs I went and asked him if he could please come and practice since me and Ymir have never had him on the coed relays before and need to get used to his pacing and handoffs and stuff, and then he said that first comment, and I guess he was able to tell that it hurt my feelings because then he said the second comment.” I sneeze, and Porco blesses me as I sniffle. We sit in silence for a minute and I can almost feel his rage radiating off of him.

I add, “And I said it exactly to him as I said to you. I know because I thought about it fifty times before telling him, and after he said that, I thought about what I said fifty more times to try and figure out if I actually said something that really made me an asshole.”

His voice is strained, quiet, like the calm before the storm. “Why didn’t Marcel and Ymir say anything? Why didn’t they stand up for you?”

“They don’t know. I… I told Coach Erwin I needed to go. I asked him to tell them it was just a family emergency but that everything was fine.” When the light turns green I fidget in my seat, not completely turning away from him, but making sure he can’t see how puffy my eyes are.

He says, “One moment. Hey Siri! Call Marcel!” I whip my head around and gape at him, mouthing, ‘What are you doing?’ Porco holds his finger up, and we both listen while the built-in Bluetooth on his car rings, and rings, and…

“Hello brethren, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Marcel’s voice resonates through the car, and I stifle a laugh at seeing Porco roll his eyes.

“For somebody so dorky I’m surprised you’re a D1 athlete. Anyways, we have a group meeting over at Pieck’s place. Reiner is excluded from this meeting and he hears nothing about it or I will kill you all. Also…” Porco pauses to look at me, then continues, “Tell Ymir to come, and to bring her girlfriend. Y/n needs a pick-me-up.”

“Oh jeez, did something happen with her and Reiner at practice? I knew she had to leave, but Erwin said it was a family thing…”

“Bingo. I’ll tell you more when everyone’s there. I’m on my way with y/n now.”

Marcel’s voice goes up an octave in excitement. “Oh, hi y/n! See you soon!”

I quietly mumble, “Hi Marcel… sorry for leaving.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure it was justified from the sound of it. I’ll see you soon!”

•••

“He WHAT!?!?!?” Ymir yells at the top of her lungs, jumping out of her seat with fire in her eyes. A teary-eyed Historia launches herself to the couch cushion on my left and wraps me up in a tight hug.

“That’s what I said!” Porco shouts in agreement, “My vote is to beat his ass.”

“You’ll get kicked off the football team, Pock.” Pieck points out. “It also wouldn’t help y/n if her coaches think she’s starting drama. Reiner could very well spin it that way, if we’re being honest. So first, how are you feeling?”

Pieck, who’s already sitting on my right side, grabs one of my hands, squeezing it encouragingly. She smiles at me, and I know she wants me to be honest, so I say, “Well… it kinda does make me a little bit happy to know you all care. I thought maybe it wasn’t that important.”

“And what else?” Historia chimes in.

��You just want me to put all my feelings out on the table for everyone to see?”

“Yes, because that’s what friends are for,” She replies in a motherly attitude, “So open up, because we’re your friends, and that’s what friends do.”

“I… I just…” I hesitate, nervous from the five of them staring at me. “This is gonna sound stupid, but can you guys not look at me? I’m embarrassed.”

Porco furrows his brows, but Ymir speaks before he can question it. “You heard her, Galliard. Turn around.” They all rotate to face away from me, and Ymir asks, “This good, track star?”

I nod, then realize they can’t see it. “Um, yes. Thanks. Um… the truth is… what Reiner said- it hurt really bad.” My voice cracks, and Pieck gives my hand another supportive squeeze. “I’ve lost friends before, and it always hurts because I think it’s my fault, even when I don’t know how it could be. If it was once, then… I don’t know. But it feels like it’s happened a lot more than once.”

“Y/n… this isn’t your fault.” Historia says softly. “You have to know that you did nothing wrong here. It’s all Reiner.”

Marcel adds, “He’s probably just jealous of your times. I think he has a hard time being realistic about the dedication it takes to be a track and field athlete and is expecting single event times for multiple events.”

“Maybe he doesn’t really want to be on the relay team?” Historia guesses.

Porco gripes, “If he didn’t want to be on the relay team all he needed to do was tell his coach.”

“No, he definitely wanted to be on the relay team, otherwise he wouldn’t have let Marco get injured.” Ymir says spitefully. “I’m still not sure it wasn’t on purpose. Marco’s too nice to say anything, but it’s not like he isn’t the reason you were injured before, Marcel.”

“That was an accident!” Marcel defies her, “And I’m fine now!”

Porco cuts in, “Technically you still have to take ice baths every day-“

“-I actually do that regularly now because y/n suggested it, it feels nice and I personally-”

“I personally don’t think that matters-”

“Will you two stop bickering?” Historia says, walking over to the pair and pulling their ears until they quit with the back and forth.

Pieck laughs, but agrees with Historia. “Hisu’s right, all of that is just semantics at this point. What do you want to do about it, y/n?”

All eyes turn to me and I swallow, wishing the decision could be someone else’s. “Honestly… I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want him to think I’m a snitch. I’d rather just have your support. I don’t want him to see he got to me. Well, beyond today, that is.” My eyes flicker to each person’s for a second, but I look away when I get to Porco’s. There’s something different about his gaze that makes it hard to hold eye contact, though I’m not sure what. Tentatively I add, “And maybe have a movie night with ice cream and a fort.”

•••

Many hours later, the six of us are back together, Ymir and Hisu cuddled up on the lounger, me and Pieck on either end of the loveseat, Porco and Marcel camped out on the ground, and fairy lights, pillows and blankets strewn everywhere. As it turns out, we’re not very good at fort-building.

A horror film is playing and popcorn is being tossed around while we save the ice cream for the second movie. Marcel was kind enough to buy pizza for the group, so everyone is chowing down as we watch the movie.

It feels… nice. Watching Marcel scoot between Pieck’s legs, letting her card through his hair and put tiny little braids in it, complete with sparkly rubber bands. Historia fitting almost perfectly in Ymir’s lap while the latter nuzzles her face into Hisu’s neck, pretending to be bored with the movie but really she’s hiding in preparation for any jumpscares. Every now and then, Porco looks back at me to steal a piece of popcorn, and save for a foreign feeling in my stomach, it all feels so normal. I find myself wishing this could happen every night.

After the first movie, Ymir and Historia leave because they have plans for a hike in the morning, and Marcel beats Porco to steal their spot, leaving him as the odd man out, which he very audibly complains about for half of the movie. After the second movie, Pieck announces that she has to go to bed so she’s well-rested for a test the next day, at which point Porco very dramatically pulls himself up onto the loveseat. “I have the high ground, Porco.” I say smugly.

“Did you really just quote Star Wars?” He says, and when I laugh, he glares at me, rolling his eyes.

“Mmphmm! Hmphmm!” Marcel has a mouthful of pizza and an air-five waiting for me.

I let out an onomatopoeia as I meet his air-five, and Porco groans, “You guys are nerds.”

“Says the person watching scary movies with two nerds,” Marcel retorts, “If it looks like a duck.”

I continue, “If it quacks like a duck!”

And Porco finishes, “Shut the fuck up.”

Marcel guffaws, and I snicker under my breath as the third movie starts. When I realize we’re upgrading from slashers to paranormal, I gasp, uttering, “Oh, no.”

Porco side-eyes me, asking, “What?”

I whisper hoarsely, “I’m a lil’ bitch when it comes to anything ghost or demon-related!”

He menacingly challenges, “I dare you to not put your hands up or turn your face away for the entire movie.”

Marcel cuts in, “I know you’re not trying to make my bestie have nightmares over there, Pocky-boy.”

“And what are you gonna do if I am?” Porco taunts his brother.

“Leave you here.” Marcel states simply.

Porco laughs. “Sure you will.”

•••

“He actually left me!” Porco says to me in exasperation. Marcel ditched him while he went to the bathroom and gave me fifty bucks to say nothing, so I, being as broke as I am, said nothing, waiting for Porco to realize, then run out and check.

“I think the real winner here is teamwork.” I comment unhelpfully, then say, “You’ll be fine, Porco. Our loveseat opens up into a bed. Also… we have a spare charger and pair of clothes. Marcel stays the night all the time.” I scratch the back of my head, knowing that Pieck and Marcel don’t exactly want their super-brand new, super-tentative relationship to be known about yet. “But that fact stays between you and me.”

“I suspected anyway.” He replies, then motions for me to move. “If you serve us up ice cream I’ll get the bed set up and we can watch more movies. Do you have class tomorrow?” I nod my head no, and he grunts in confirmation. “Then it’s settled.”

I hop off the couch and get to work, carefully crafting up two perfect bowls of ice cream, one with all my favorite toppings and one waiting to be decorated. “Hey Porco,” I call from the kitchen, “What toppings do you want?”

“Uh, whatever you used on yours.” He responds absentmindedly, and I comply, returning to the bed set up with all the plushest pillows and blankets, Porco lounging in the middle with his head resting on the couch back.

“You look comfortable.” I observe as I hand him his bowl of ice cream, plopping down next to him. “What are we watching now?”

“I was thinking Ringu, is that okay?”

“Uh, are you trying to get me to have insomnia?”

“I mean, not necessarily. Just a healthy dose of fear.”

“Uh-huh. If we watch this you’re not allowed to have any qualms about me hiding behind my fingers.”

“Bet.” He says, stretching out his arms and reaching behind me for the remote.

Once he starts the movie, he reaches back around to set it down again, and I notice his arm doesn’t leave this time. I feel a twinge of I-don’t-know-what, and start chowing down on my ice cream before it melts. The silence is comfortable. Until he asks, “Why do you think Reiner said that to you?”

Of course he has to ask that. “I… don’t know. I mean… a long time ago during freshman year, he did ask me out, and… I told him I saw him as a really good friend.”

Porco chortles, only choking on his spoonful of ice cream a little bit. “You did not, y/n.” He gasps out.

“Well it was true! He was really nice back then, and he was a good friend to me. I just… didn’t see him how he wanted me to.” I take a large spoonful so I don’t have to say more.

Porco ponders aloud, “I’ll bet he’s been salty about it ever since. He always wants to be seen as this reliable nice guy, but that’s Marcel. I noticed awhile ago that when Marcel was in the hospital, Reiner changed. It was like he was trying to be my brother.”

My brows shoot up in surprise. “I’ve never thought about it, but you’re right. That’s around the time him and I got close… That’s creepy. After I turned him down, he turned into who he is today. Well, who he is for me today. It wasn’t overnight, I think he was still hoping I would change my mind.”

“I would hope too,” Porco jokes, “Imagine being rejected by one of the nicest people at Marley U.”

I poke his side as hard as I can, but he just brushes it off. “Don’t tease, Porco! That’s mean to him.”

“He’s not here, y/n, you don’t have to save face. I know for a fact you at least dislike that fucker. I hate him and I’ve been open about that since day one. You should join me, it’s freeing.” He remarks with a flourish of his hand.

“Okay, okay! I don’t like Reiner, are you happy?” I say with a shake of my head, failing to conceal my impish smile. “But I would rather just move on and forget about it. Do I want anything to do with him? No. But I don’t want drama either.”

“Got it.” He pretends to scribble down a note. “Don’t make drama for y/n because of Reiner.”

The rest of the night goes without a hitch, and I find myself really coming to like Porco. He’s funny, kind, and hot-headed compared to Marcel, but Marcel has always been even-tempered and nearly impossible to anger, so no surprise there. If I were a betting person, I’d bet Marcel became that way to keep his little brother out of trouble.

At one point I really jump after being on edge for several minutes, and Porco simply wraps his arm around me, saying, “I got you. If it’s too scary I can turn it off.”

“No, no, I can handle it. I just forgot I wasn’t in the movie for second there.”

•••

The next morning, I walk out into the living room in my spandex and a baggy t shirt Marco loaned me (and then just gave me) after one practice when he tripped and spilled a cooler on my head and torso. Long story short, he was carrying it on his shoulder, didn’t see me, then tried to swerve around to miss me, but so did I, and catastrophe struck. It’s also how we became friends, so it’s a memory I look back on fondly.

“Good morning. You look ready to go for a run.”

I jump, whipping around to see Porco who suddenly is cackling. “Fuck, dude, I forgot you were here. You scared the shit out of me!” I say, keeling over in laughter and relief.

“Those movies do a number on you?” Porco asks after wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Not this time, actually. I just truly wasn’t expecting it. I woke up so well-rested I thought yesterday night was a dream!” I open the fridge and dig out my usual breakfast: Yogurt, granola, and some water. It’s light, but I prefer heavier lunches and dinners, so it balances out. “Are you hungry, Porco?”

“I already ordered myself DoorDash, I was gonna get you something when you woke up, but…” He motions to the small meal I have. “Are you sure you won’t be hungry after that?”

“Oh! Yea, I always eat this much, I’m kind of basic. If I eat a lot in the morning I can make myself nauseous so I stick to this. Plus, my yogurt is pretty yummy. Want some?”

He looks at me. “What kind?”

“Greek lemon. It slaps, I’m telling you.”

•••

“Holy shit! This is good as fuck!” He says excitedly, “Where do you get this?” He consumes the yogurt cup within seconds.

I smile, happy to have converted another person into a Greek lemon yogurt fiend. “You know the farmer’s market on 86th? They sell tubs, too, they were just out this time.”

“I can see why, I need to start getting this stuff. I’ll pick up one for each of us next time I’m grocery shopping.”

“I actually need to get more now, these two were my last ones. Wanna go? I can drop you off home afterward.”

“Hell yea!” He exclaims, and in minutes we’re in Pieck’s car, jamming out to Ariana Grande, a guilty pleasure of Porco’s and a favorite of mine, as we head to the store specifically for Greek lemon yogurt.

I’m losing my breath while Porco’s trying his darnedest to hit Ari’s high notes, and when I’m singing along, I can feel Porco’s eyes lingering on my face.

“You have a really nice voice, you know. How come you’ve never done karaoke night with everyone before?”

My face goes up in flames, and I’m hoping against hope Porco doesn’t catch my bashful smile. “Oh, thanks. I’m not very confident in my voice, so I’ve just never thought about it.”

“Next time you should come with me. With you as my partner, we’ll beat the whole gang!” He suggests amiably.

I laugh, reminding myself that Pieck’s car won’t drive itself. “I don’t know, I wouldn’t want to steal your thunder. Miss Ari would be awfully jealous of those whistle tones you got there.”

“Okay, first of all, you and I both know I sounded like a smoker on helium, but go off. Second of all, I don’t have a second point, I just wanted to say second of all. Makes me feel important.”

“Are you usually this comedic?” I wonder aloud.

“Eh, only around people that I really like. And you happen to be one of those people.” He states, poking my arm a little for emphasis.

“Well, I’m honored. How can I thank you, Lord Pockolemew?” I pull into a parking spot at the back of the lot, where no cars are. It’s the best way to keep Pieck’s car from getting dents in it, and the weather outside is nice.

“Easy. One, never call me that again.”

“Oh, I’m definitely calling you that again.”

“No. Two, let me pay for the yogurts, and I’ll give you gas money since you’re dropping me home.” He nudges me playfully as we walk past cars of all kinds, and I scratch my arm.

“You don’t need to do that, Porco, it’s fine, really. I appreciate it-“

“Then accept it, y/l/n. I know you’re all about earning things and you don’t want to burden people or waste their time, but what about the people who want to do nice things for you because they think you deserve it?” He probes, and I find that I can’t disagree with him without sounding morbidly depressing, so I hang my head and sigh.

“Fine, just this once. But never again.”

He smiles smugly, like he just won a game of chess. Maybe he did. “Got it. Never again.”

We end up picking up a few more things than the yogurt, mostly because Porco got random cravings for a bunch of raw vegetables and told me to pick out a snack for myself, but he’s still able to carry all the bags on one arm, insisting we don’t need to make two trips, as well as insisting I shouldn’t carry any of them because they’re technically his property since he paid. He also insists on opening the passenger door for me and not letting me load any of the bags into the car.

“Uh, Porco, I’m driving?” I remind him in confusion.

“Nah, it’s all good. We’re going back to your dorm, Marcel’s there and said he’ll take me home, but I wanted to stop somewhere else first. I’ve driven Pieck’s car before.” He turns the key and the engine rumbles to life, even quieter than the Maliblue.

I go along, wary as I am, and am surprised to find us at an ice cream parlor. I look over at Porco, and he’s already watching me with a smirk. “I have it on good authority that you like ice cream.” I can’t help but smile, and he returns mine in earnest.

As we order matching cones, I ask him, “Why are you being so nice to me? Not that you’ve ever really been mean, I just… I don’t know. One moment we were more like acquaintances, casual friends or whatever, and the next, you’re buying me ice cream, driving me around and shit.”

He shrugs. “Don’t know. Guess I didn’t realize how cool you were and it took Reiner being a sack of shit for me to get it through my head. That aside, I’m glad I ran into you yesterday. You’re kinda rad, y/n.”

We’re handed our cones as I respond, “You too, Galliard. You too.”

•••

That afternoon, Porco goes home with Marcel, and then goes for a drive that night. Parked in front of a familiar dorm building, he makes a call. The line rings, the recipient slow to answer. “Hello?” Reiner’s voice is on the other line.

“Sup, Braun.” Porco says, voice colder than a deep freezer. “Listen, I heard about what you said to y/n-”

“-Oh my God, really?” Reiner complains, his voice almost whining. “You’re gonna blindly believe what a random bitch decided to say I said? I thought we were friends.”

Porco’s nostrils flare and he yells, “You called y/n a what!? A what, Reiner? Disrespect her again and I will really fuckin’ beat your ass, the only reason you’re not in the ER right now is because she asked me not to do anything. She doesn’t even know I’m doing this right now.”

Reiner scoffs. “You’re all talk-”

“-Come outside then, bitch! I’m right outside your fuckin’ building, I can see you sitting in your fuckin’ dorm room!”

Several seconds of silence pass, and Porco can see Reiner pull his curtains closed.

“Yea, that’s what I fuckin’ thought. You fucked over my brother, you tried to fuck over Marco, but you’re not about to fuck over y/n just because she wouldn’t go out with you, and we are not friends. You can catch these fuckin’ hands anytime you want, but I promise you, Braun, if you fuck with y/n again I’ll kick your fuckin’ teeth in. Leave her alone.”

“Do you… like her?” Reiner asks Porco.

Porco says, “If I do it’s none of your business, but right now I’m just saying this as her friend. She wouldn’t have ever wanted you anyway. Red shirt ass pussy.” He hangs up after slinging a final insult at Reiner, and starts his car, speeding off down the road into the night.

•••

The next time I show up to practice, I see Porco sitting in the stands watching, and give him a wave, smiling. He gives me a thumbs up and puts his feet up, leaning back in his seat.

Coach Erwin calls me over, and I panic on the inside, but comply. “Yes, Coach?”

“I wanted you to know, y/l/n, that Reiner is no longer on the four by four coed relay. Ymir and Marcel came to me early this morning, and he’s been suspended from the team for a month.”

I’m caught off guard by what he says. “Wait, what? I… It really wasn’t… I’m sure he feels-“

“-You’re one of my best athletes, y/l/n. Braun was bullying you. You’re allowed to stand up for yourself. Anyway, I’m glad your teammates came to me. They care about you.” His eyes soften a little. “I know you have a hard time making friends, but they seem to really have your best interests at heart. Hold those friends close, y/l/n.”

I nod, all seriousness. Coach Erwin is known for giving occasional bits of life advice, and when he does give it, his athletes take it. “Thank you, Coach.”

“Anytime. As for Reiner’s replacement, Colt Grice will be taking his spot in the relay, so make sure you practice handoffs with him. Go warm up, y/l/n.”

“Yes, Coach!” I take off, and Ymir, Marcel and Colt are already warming up together, but they pause and look at me expectantly. I jog up to them and say, “I thought I told you to say nothing.”

Marcel rubs the back of his neck. “Yea, well…”

Ymir admits without any guilt whatsoever: “I made Marcel come with me and we told Erwin everything. When Reiner showed up Erwin called him into the office and he didn’t deny a thing.”

“Wow, just like that?” I say, finding it a bit odd.

“I think Porco might be to blame for that,” Marcel posits, “He came home late last night after going for a drive. Did you see him when you got here, y/n?”

I nod. I glance over at Porco in the stands, and have to hide a smile when I turn back around. “Hey Colt.” I greet the freshman, and he returns the greeting. I had a class with him last quarter, so we’re already fairly acquainted. Plus, he went to high school in Liberio like Pieck and the rest of her friends, so there’s that.

We all chat as we warm up together, go through our stretches, and finally get ready to run. “Hey,” Colt says as we walk to the line, “Porco’s heading this way. Does he normally show up to watch you practice, Marcel?”

Marcel scratches his eyebrow. “Not really, no. I don’t think he’s here for me, though.”

My stomach does a flip, and I’m not sure why, but Colt and Ymir both glancing at me in suspicion makes me nervous. “What?” I ask in annoyance.

“Oh, nothing. Only that you’ve spent a significant amount of time with Porco lately.” Ymir suggestively raises her eyebrows, and I scowl at her.

Colt puts his hands up. “I know nothing, I’m not a part of this, I’m innocent.”

“Thank you for your honesty, Colt.” I say, choosing to not give Ymir the satisfaction of arguing with her. Teasing is her favorite way to get me to come out of my shell, unfortunately.

“Alright,” I announce, “The order before was Marcel, Ymir, Reiner, then me, so you’ll be the third leg, Colt. Coach Erwin doesn’t want us tiring ourselves out so we’re gonna practice our handoffs on the hurdle markers, just so we can get our strides out. Eighty percent, our meet’s on Saturday.”

“Whew, so soft, Coach y/l/n. You’re not gonna make us run the stadium stairs?” Ymir heckles.

“I could make you do it, as payback for not listening to me the other day, Ymir.” I threaten, but she just laughs.

“I know you won’t.”

I sigh. “You’re right, I won’t. Let’s just get started before you keep exposing me for not measuring up to Erwin.”

“Nerd.” Ymir says, and it reminds me of when Porco called Marcel and I nerds. I bite my lip, but it doesn’t hide my smile. She notices and laughs, “Whatcha thinkin’ about over there, huh?”

“How lovely it would be if Historia were here to tell you off, is all.” I lie, but honestly, it would be nice for Historia to tell her off.

We move on, and our first attempt is a little rough, but we gradually improve. By the time we hit our sixth attempt, we’ve gotten into our groove, so we go through it four more times to cement it in.

“Alright, I’m off for distance with Coach Magath, see you guys!” I wave goodbye to Colt and Ymir, who respectively head over to hurdles and sprinting, but before Marcel joins Ymir, he stops me with a hand in my shoulder.

“Wassup?” I ask him, and his eyes shoot between me and (I’m assuming based on the general direction) Porco.

“I just wanted to say, if you… if you and Porco are gonna continue to spend time together, I’m okay with that. You’re one of my best friends, and he’s my brother, so… if anything… were to, well, grow, out of that, I want you to know that it’s okay with me.” If my face could melt it would, and he can definitely see it written all over my features. “Or if that’s not what’s happening, then you can feel free to ignore what I said, and I’m sorry for being mistaken.” His face reddens a little and he laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No!“ I say sincerely, “I mean, Porco’s great, and, since you’re giving me a stamp of approval I hope you don’t mind me saying that he is cute, but I don’t know, it seems like we’re just… hanging out, and he just feels bad for me. I’m sure he doesn’t see me like that.”

He quirks an eyebrow at me. “I don’t know, y/n, I’m just saying, but I’ve never seen him be so interested in ‘just hanging out’ with someone. I’m not gonna get involved since I would be in both parties, but… I hope you guys figure out where each of you would like to stand with each other.” He gives my shoulder a pat and jogs over to sprinting, and I’m about to head over to Coach Magath when Porco calls my name. I turn around, and see him waving me over.

“Hey, Porco!” I say, “What’s the occasion?”

“Just checking up on my new bestie. Making sure Reiner’s slimey ass didn’t try to talk to you some type of way again, but it looks like that’s not an issue anymore.”

I shake my head no. “Apparently he’s been suspended from the team for a month and didn’t even fight it.”

He nods as if he’s affirming a thought to himself. “That’s good. I gotta blast, but I was wondering, do you wanna hang out sometime? Just the two of us, like how we did the other day?”

There’s no way to hide how bashful I am, so I just smile and murmur, “Yea, I would like that. Just text me.”

Porco pulls his phone out, handing it to me to create a contact. I type in my number, and as for the name, I type ‘🤠y/n🤠’, then scroll to the ‘company’ section and type, ‘Porco’s hot new bestie 🥰💅🏽✨’.

He takes his phone back and shakes his head with a grin on his face. “You’re goofy when you want to be, you know that?”

I reply, “Somebody has to be the comedic relief, might as well be me!”

“Y/l/n! Get over here!” Magath yells from across the field.

I grimace. “That’s my cue. See ya!” I take off, embarrassment prominent on my features as I sprint to my Coach. “Sorry, Coach.”

“First Erwin steals you for the relay team, and now your boyfriend shows up to my practice? If I have to deal with any more of this I’m gonna quit.”

“He-he’s not my boyfriend, Coach.” I say quietly, then chirp, “But you’d never quit on me! I’m your star runner!” I put on my most winning smile, nudging him with my elbow.

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Then tell him to quit acting like your boyfriend or your Coach is gonna have to teach him a lesson about not distracting my only hope of a pay raise.”

“He wasn’t acting like my boyfriend! We’re just friends!” I insist.

“Just get your seventy minutes in. Seventy percent, y/l/n. You’re doing three events on Saturday - don’t you dare get injured.”

•••

On the greyhound back to campus, I get a text from Porco. His name makes my face light up, and Ymir narrows her eyes at me suspiciously. “So you and Porco are a thing now?”

I falter slightly, “Uh, as far as I know, no. We just… talk.”

“Uh-huh. Well, you’ve been doing a lot of talking lately. You should unpack that - you know, when you’re not in denial.” She says patronizingly.

“Whatever, Ymir. I gotta respond to this.” I turn away, leaning into the window of the bus, and open Porco’s text.

Shaking my head, I greet him in turn.

93 notes · View notes

youngbugandtonystank · 3 years

Note

what's the difference between what wanda did to those people in wandavision and what tony did with ultron?

I have so many asks about this. Hate asks, and people wondering what’s going on. This is the only one I’m answering.

Both of them are responsible for their actions. I’ve seen people try and take away either Tony’s responsibility for that or Wanda’s engagement and accountability.

In Tony’s case, the Ultron program was supposed to be a global peacekeeping program to protect the people, acting as a suit around the world to prevent events like the Battle of New York. He was doing it in the name of peace and safety. Tony was rightfully scared because he was the only one who knew what was coming. Wanda intentionally enhanced that fear in him and this drove him to create Ultron with Bruce. He has responsibility for it. Same as Bruce. He owns up to this, he took full responsibility and agreed that they needed to be regulated.

Tony Stark: A few years ago, I almost lost her, so I trashed all my suits. Then, we had to mop up HYDRA... and then Ultron. My fault.

Tony Stark: There's no decision-making process here. We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game. If we can't accept limitations, if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys.

Tony Stark: That's good. That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stop manufacturing.

If people think he needs to be in jail for it, then I’m guessing the rest of the Avengers too since all of them have made mistakes and killed people too. As a matter of fact, after the events of Wandavision, I’m sure that Wanda should be in the Raft, but because she’s ‘a poor baby’ yall won’t think she deserves that.

SPOILERS

It’s a big possibility that we don’t have all the info about what happened in Wandavision but we’re going to go with what we know so far.

In Wanda’s case, she did it to appease her grief and pain, and I can understand why she would get to that point, she’s been through a lot and maybe she was about to lose her mind. Instead of recruiting Wanda after the Sokovia incident, they should’ve given this girl treatment for her mental health problems. She just lost her brother and passed through a very traumatic war zone, of course she needs assistance. Cap and Natasha were the ones responsible for her because they were training the ‘new’ avengers. Sam was with them and he used to be a counselor to veterans with PTSD. He could’ve helped Wanda with some of her traumas. As shown in the series, Wanda did the whole hex business before meeting Agatha, which means creating that little reality was all Wanda’s responsibility. Hayward and Agatha did exactly what Wanda did to Tony (and the avengers/other people) in AOU. They manipulated her and played with her emotional traumas. Hayward showed her Vision’s body parts and Agatha started to pull strings to know how Wanda did what she did and her real powers while orchestrating against her.

Both of them have made mistakes. No one is better than the other. I don’t understand why some fans want to make someone responsible more than the other or blame one character for the other. While Wanda gave Tony that vision and pushed his self-destructive side to obsess over saving the world, he did create Ultron, what Tony didn’t predict was that the robot was going to corrupt itself. Same with Wanda, while Agatha and Hayward contributed to her trauma, she held hostage and isolated 3,892 people to create her perfect reality, ripping these people away from their identities and free will to fit her own fantasy. Don’t turn this into ‘omg poor her, it’s Tony fault that she’s this way'. I can’t believe I have to repeat this but you don’t see Peter Parker obsessively looking for the person who manufactured the gun instead of the criminal who actually killed Uncle Ben. Ridiculous that I have to repeat this example.

Oh and about Vision’s body (damn yall have a gift to turn everything into Tony’s fault for some reason). I can’t believe some of you think Tony (while grieving for 5 years) would give Vision to Hayward. You’re either pulling stuff out of your asses or you didn’t pay attention to the show. Maria Rambeau founded and was the Director of S.W.O.R.D. In 2018 (when IW happened), this is where she came up with a new policy within S.W.O.R.D. to ground snapped agents in case they ever returned. Maria was diagnosed with cancer, then two years later (2020), she passed away. Then, Hayward was promoted to Director of S.W.O.R.D., in his first years (2020-2022) he refocused the organization’s work from extraterrestrial operations to robotics, nanotechnology and artificial intelligence, etc. There, that was the 5 years. Then in 2023 it’s when he started project Cataract, which revolved around rebuilding Vision as a sentient weapon. Tony was dead when this happened. How come yall don’t get this part? I don’t understand, do you really think his dead corpse signed some papers to give Vision to those people? LMAO

Instead of thinking Tony would give up Vision just like that, think (possibilities):

Maria was the head of S.W.O.R.D., she might have just been keeping his body safe without doing anything with him. Maybe she trusted Hayward and he, obviously, betrayed her because he’s turning her organization into something else after her death.

One of the Sokovia Accords regulations states that the use of technology to bestow individuals (the term ‘enhanced individual’ in this book is defined as any person, human or otherwise, with superhuman capabilities) with innate capabilities is strictly regulated by the government, as is the use and distribution of highly advanced technology. Vision signed those accords ('I'm saying there may be a casualty. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict... breeds catastrophe. Oversight...oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand’) The Avengers were no longer be a private organization and they operate under the supervision of the United Nations. This means they (UN) were the ones that referred Vision’s body to S.W.O.R.D., to a trustworthy leader, Maria.

Vision died in Wakanda, not in New York. Tony was missing for 22 days after the snap, the rest of the avengers should’ve taken responsibility for his body.

Why is it always Tony’s fault but never consider that other parties are also involved in this?

I want to address some other asks with this one. I know some of you are angry because people are starting to blame Tony all over again, so a few things to remember:

Tony did not create the Accords. The Accords were the result of all the collective actions the Avengers have done in their superhero careers. All of them have made mistakes and the collateral damage of that was taken into consideration by the government and 117 countries around the world. He signed the accords because he knew that he could amend them with the support of the rest of the avengers and he knew about Thanos (something big was coming).

Obadiah Stane (it’s so bizarre for me seeing that some people don’t know who this guy is, I’m guessing that the people who are watching Wandavision are too young to remember or didn’t watch the Iron Man movies at all which is highly probable) was the one selling weapons to the wrong people, not Tony. Obadiah was the CEO of Stark industries and became second-in-command for two decades. He grew jealous of Tony and began cooperating with the Ten Rings in Afghanistan, selling them Stark Industries weapons illegally. Imagine blaming all of it on Tony when Obadiah basically murdered thousands only because he felt a little green. If someone who you trust (he had no reasons to doubt Obadiah since he was like a second father-figure for him) does something behind your back (take into consideration that people like Pepper; who was Tony’s assistant and had knowledge of all of Tony’s activities and responsibilities, Rhodey; who was the liaison between the military in the department of acquisitions and Stark Industries, and Happy Hogan; who was his personal bodyguard and Head of Security of Stark Industries, didn’t know what Stane was doing either), how are you going to know about it? Tony trusted him. And when he realized what was going on he immediately stopped all of it. He worked hard to be better and people overlook that because they want other characters to look better.

Don’t act like Tony was the only one assisting the military. All of the avengers assisted in one way or another. Natasha (who used to be an assassin) was in the Red Room, trained in the Black Widow Program in association with Leviathan and the Soviet Armed Forces, served for KGB, etc. Bruce Banner used to work for the United States government and was commissioned to create a super serum for them. Same goes with the rest, Sam, Clint, etc. Steve Rogers was a soldier lmaoooooooooooooo like, what happened to Tony with Obadiah happened to Steve with SHIELD/HYDRA in TWS. He trusted the people working in there (SHIELD), served for them, did missions for them and as soon as he found out what they were doing behind his back he turned against them.

Knowing all of this, how is Tony always the villain for yall? I’m guessing because Tony’s popularity in the MCU, but still, aren’t yall tired of not understanding the plot and having people repeat it to you constantly? Watch the movies if you want to understand the franchise, people. Stop following the crowd.

Also, Wanda is not a kid, she’s a 35 year old woman in Wandavision, she was 26 in AOU and 27 in CW. Hardly a child. Tony had almost her same age (38) when he realized Obadiah was selling illegal weaponry behind his back. The only reason people don’t fully forgive Tony is because 1. he’s a man and 2. he’s a billionaire. Even if Wanda was poor she still killed and hurt many people over the course of her life. Stop trying to make Tony the villain only to downplay Wanda’s actions.

Both have killed people, both have made mistakes. They’re both responsible for them.

#wanda maximoff #wandavision #vision #tony stark #avengers #marvel #mcu #this is the only ask I'm answering about this #exhausting

587 notes · View notes

comfortbucky · 3 years

Note

Hey! Can i request a cold, lonely ex-hydra reader × bucky who falls in love with her. Adding some panic attacks and nightmares of the reader.

i love this idea!!! thank u for submitting🥰

𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗲 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚ ⋆

pairing: avenger!bucky x ex-HYDRA!fem!reader

tags: enemies(?) to lovers, angst (if u squint), soft!bucky

warnings: canon level violence, description of injuries, blood is mentioned, panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares

A/N: i just came up with a random name for the HYDRA leader the reader is after🤣 so just ,,, ignore // also!!!! i tried out a different writing style than what i’m used to! hope u don’t mind🥺 just been feeling like a lot of my writing is the same and wanted to try something new!!!

word count: 3.5k (this is so long LMAO sorry 😭 literally why am i like this)

my masterlist!

completed requests!

The suit that you once considered a second skin, now felt uncomfortable and constricting, like a python squeezing the life out of you. Although, it made sense since the very organization of the uniform you were wearing did exactly that.

HYDRA.

For so long you were just another mindless pawn to them, just doing without every actually thinking. Unlike your younger brother, Alex. They indoctrinated him as well, getting a hold of both of you from a young age, but he was there when Captain America took down S.H.I.E.L.D. and it changed his entire worldview. You found everything he said about “freedom” to be stupid, naive, and dangerous. And you would later prove yourself correct.

You pull yourself from your thoughts as a group of HYDRA soldiers walk past the shrubbery you hid behind. Quickly and quietly, you get up and join them as they march towards the HYDRA base. As soon as you get inside, you manage to slip away from the rest of the group to search for your target.

Since HYDRA took the possibility of you ever having a normal life away, as far as you were concerned, your only purpose in life was to kill the man who was at the center of it all, Viktor Cross. And after months of tracking him down, formulating the perfect plan, that’s exactly what you were going to do today.

You make your way towards one of the main lab facilities, gun in hand when you see several unconscious guards lying on the floor in front of you. Shifting your gaze up, you see that the door has been ripped open, grip marks on the sides.

This was not part of the plan.

As you squeeze through the open door and enter the lab, you come to a halt, frozen in shock. There’s your target, Viktor, shoved against the wall by none other than Captain America himself. You almost let out a chuckle in disbelief at the irony of the situation. Instead, you take a step forward, and the glass cracks beneath your feet, alerting the men of your presence.

Shit.

Immediately, both sets of eyes are on you. Viktor’s lips curve into a smirk as you make your way to them.

“Agent- Miss Y/N,” he corrects himself. “What a pleasant surprise.” You ignore him and look to address Steve Rogers, AKA Captain America.

“Let him go and give him to me,” you start, Steve eyeing you cautiously. “So I can kill him,” you snarl, quickly turning to Viktor to see that his smirk had been wiped off his face.

“Aren’t you HYDRA?” He questions, nodding to your suit and eliciting a cackle from Viktor.

“Not anymore,” you mumble, before lifting a leg to kick Steve in his side. You hit him across the face with the end of your gun for good measure. He stumbles over, giving you enough time to grab Viktor’s collar, before he falls to the floor, and slam him back against the wall. His eyes are full of desperation and you felt nothing but pure, burning rage. You shove the barrel of your gun under his chin and place your hand on the trigger.

“You were such a gifted agent, Y/N. Don’t throw away such potential, come back.”

“Go to hell.”

Before you could pull the trigger, a force propels you to the ground and you feel a sharp pain in your side. Silence and then ringing fills your eyes as you squint your eyes to try and visualize the situation. Your vision is blurry, but clear enough to clouds of smoke engulf Viktor’s figure as he escapes. A muffled voice from behind you speaks, but you can’t make out any of the words they’re saying. You look down to see red. Just crimson red, staining your abdomen. Hands land on your shoulders, shaking you gently as your vision fades to black.

Viktor is in front of you, the barrel of his gun directed right at your head. He smirks as he moves his hand to the trigger.

“Hail, HYDRA.”

A gunshot goes off, forcing you to shoot up in bed, gasping for air. As you start to regain your senses, you realize you’re surrounded by a group of strangers. Well, not complete strangers, the Avengers to be exact. Part of your job required you to study their files, learn everything about them. You could recite from memory where and when they were born, their greatest strengths and weaknesses. Suddenly, your side starts to burn with pain, and you carefully lean back in bed. There’s an array of wires and tubes connected to you and you hear the rhythmic beeping of various machines. You’re in a hospital, or some sort of medical facility.

“That, is exactly why I said we should use restraints.”

You’re staring at the ceiling when you hear Iron Man, AKA Tony Stark, speak.

“Tony, she lost a liter of blood, she’s not going anywhere.”

Steve appears in your view, looking down at you.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

You shift your gaze away from him. The last thing you expected to come out of this mission was to meet the Avengers, let alone them save you.

Steve sighs, “We’re not gonna hurt you. We wanna find Viktor too.”

There’s nothing he could say that could get you to speak. Your hatred for HYDRA didn’t mean you suddenly liked the Avengers. If anything, they were part of the problem too, so you stay silent.

“Told you, she’s not gonna talk,” Tony quips. From your research, you had come to learn that he was an arrogant man, and his statement only proved you right. “Maybe you should get Manchurian Candidate to come down, give her an ex-HYDRA buddy,” he says sarcastically.

Upon hearing “ex-HYDRA buddy,” you furrow your brows. Maybe it was the lack of blood in your body, but it took you a second to process his words and understand who he was referring to. Your eyes dart back to look at Steve’s but he’s gone.

“I’ll be back.” His voice trails off as he exits the room.

You’re still staring at the ceiling when you hear footsteps return and then several others departing.

There’s only one other person in the room beside you. Without even looking up, you already know who it is. His breathing was slow and steady until you started to shift in bed to reposition yourself. His breath hitched for a moment, before returning back to his normal breathing pattern.

“Killing him isn’t gonna make you feel better.” His comment makes you roll your eyes as you slowly sit up to look at him. There were no logical thoughts in your head, all you could feel was pain and fury. Anger swelled within you, your emotions boiling over.

“That’s rich, coming from the Fist of HYDRA,” you spat out. As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt your stomach drop. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one you hadn’t felt in a while. What was it? Regret?

Bucky’s face fell but he kept his eyes on you. It was a look that made you feel worse, worse than the searing pain in your side.

“I’m not a killer anymore,” he said in a tone so gentle, you felt another strange, new emotion but couldn’t quite label it. You quickly shift gears to avoid addressing the uncomfortable feelings swirling around in your stomach.

“Are you keeping me hostage to lure Viktor in? Because it's not going to work." Bucky shook his head.

"We want..." he trailed off, causing you to tilt your head in curiosity. “We need your help finding him.” You scoffed.

“What do I get out of it?” Bucky’s silence gave you your answer. Shaking your head, you start to disconnect yourself from the multitude of wires attached to you and get out of bed.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself,” he started, as you threw off your blanket and sat on the edge of the bed.

Standing up quickly, the blood from your head pooled in your legs, causing you to feel dizzy. Your head spun and your arms reached out for something, anything stable to grab onto. It was a metal hand. Despite it being cool to the touch, it ignited a heat to rise to your cheeks. You look down and mumble a thank you as Bucky helps you back into bed.

Letting out a sigh, you realize with the condition you’re in, you can’t leave. Definitely not well enough to go after Viktor alone. Shutting your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose, you curse under your breath.

“Fine,” you finally speak, keeping your eyes closed. Bucky nods, even though you don’t see, and you hear him walk off.

After a couple days of rest, you were cleared by Bruce to get discharged. Viktor had gone deep in hiding, making your job to find him a lot harder. Tony had so graciously given you an extra room in the tower, right next to Bucky’s. He was probably the one person you saw the most, purely due to location, and the fact that everyone else cautiously kept their distance from you. It made sense though, since you rarely spoke to anyone and spent most of your time in the lab looking for any clues of Viktor’s location. When you weren’t searching for him, you were training in the gym. Bucky was there a lot too, both of you waking up at ungodly hours of the morning. No words were ever exchanged between the two of you, and yet, there was some level of comfort you felt being around him. Must’ve been an ex-HYDRA thing.

“What’s on your mind?” You walk over to Alex and sit on the edge of the bed next to him. He sighs.

“What if,” he starts, furrowing his brows. “What if freedom is good?” He speaks quietly, fearful of HYDRA listening in on your conversation.

It feels like you’ve got the wind knocked out of you.

“Alex,” you grab him by the shoulders. “What the hell are you talking about?” You’re searching his eyes, trying to understand what’s gotten into him.

“Captain America.” The biggest threat to HYDRA’s existence. He looks down at his hands. “He was willing to risk his life for it. It has to be worth something right?” Alex looks back up to you with a look in his eyes that you haven’t seen since you were children. Uncertainty. You sigh and pull him into your chest, stroking his hair.

“I don’t know, kiddo. Maybe.”

You wake up in a cold sweat, panting. Hot tears fall from the corners of your eyes. It’s the same dream you’ve had for the last week. Although, you wouldn’t consider it a dream necessarily, but it wasn’t a nightmare either. Just a bittersweet memory.

Bucky could tell that something was up with you for the past week. Despite having gone through a bit of therapy, Steve’s idea, the nightmares still came to him. So Bucky was already wide awake when he heard your weeping on the other side of the wall. It didn’t help that he was also a light sleeper with super-soldier hearing. He didn’t know what was causing you to be so upset, but he didn’t want to intrude and ask. Neither of you had spoken to the other since you first arrived.

But this night was different from the rest. Usually, you would flip endlessly through channels on ur TV until you eventually fell asleep, but it wasn’t working this time. There’s a tight pain in your chest and suddenly, you’re suffocating. You rip off your covers and spring out of bed, tripping on your blankets along the way. At this point, you don’t even register the pain of slamming down, face-first on the ground. Panic has taken over your body, tears now streaming down your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping for relief.

He wasn’t planning on doing anything until he heard a loud thud from your room. Immediately, Bucky gets up and arrives at your door. It’s rude to just barge into someone’s room, his mom taught him that from a young age, so he settles on knocking. You don’t hear it though, the only sound you hear is the sound of your rapid breathing as you hyperventilate. Bucky hears it too and ultimately decides on inviting himself into your room.

“Y/N?”

You’re lying on your side, curled up in a fetal position with your hands covering your face, when Bucky opens the door. He quickly arrives by your side, kneeling beside you, as he examines you for any injuries.

“Are you hurt?”

You manage to shake your head in response, anxiety still flowing through your veins. Unfortunately, Bucky’s familiar with panic attacks, having had them himself. But he also knows that everyone deals with them a bit differently. Guess he did manage to learn some useful things from therapy.

“Can you try breathing with me?”

He starts to take deep breaths in and out until he sees you start to follow along with him, your hands still covering your face. There’s a part of you that feels stupid for keeping them there, but they help ground you, so you continue to shield your face. After what feels like an hour, but was probably only 10 minutes, your panic subsides. That’s when a wave of embarrassment hits you, realizing that it had been Bucky with you during your panic attack.

Slowly removing your hands from your face, you’re greeted by piercing blue eyes. You blink a couple times, realizing that Bucky had taken a spot on the ground, lying on his side to face you, his hands pressed together under his head like a pillow. He smiles and you feel warm. It’s terrifying, the new feelings that Bucky has caused you to feel and yet, you don’t mind.

“You feelin’ better?” You nod and smile back, something you haven’t genuinely done in a while.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

You stare at each other in silence, lying side by side. There’s no physical touch involved but somehow, this moment, it feels intimate. Bucky breaks the silence.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He speaks in a voice so soft, it almost sounded like a whisper.

It might’ve been the fact that he just calmed you down from a panic attack, but as you looked into his eyes, you felt the walls you had built up for the last year slowly come crashing down.

“He killed my brother,” you reply, maintaining your eyes on Bucky. You searched his eyes for any fear or pity, but all you could find was a look of understanding. His eyes were starting to become a safe place for you.

“Alex was there when Steve took down S.H.I.E.L.D., HYDRA along with it. He wanted out, out of the organization.” Taking a deep breath, you continue. “Word got around about a “rat,” so I took the blame. Viktor was about to shoot me when Alex’s dumbass ran in front of me, sacrificing himself.” You let out a chuckle, your vision getting blurry as tears swelled in your eyes. “He was a goddamn idiot, but he also had a heart of gold.”

As you start to cry, Bucky hesitatingly extends an arm to hover over your body, trying to gauge your reaction. Physical touch was something he struggled with during the beginning of his recovery, and he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. He’s reassured when you grab onto his shirt and pull yourself closer to him, and wraps an arm around you, his other hand softly stroking your head.

You hadn’t cried like this since Alex died, bottling up all of your emotions to focus on finding the man responsible for his death. But as you sobbed into Bucky’s chest, you realize that your love for Alex had transformed into an ugly, burning hatred for Viktor. He wouldn’t want this. You didn’t want it, at least, not anymore. The only thing you wanted was your brother back, and that was impossible.

Bucky held you in his arms until you fell asleep, listening to the sounds of your slow, rhythmic breathing, dozing off shortly after.

That night with Bucky had softened your cold, hard exterior that you initially presented yourself with. You would willingly spar with Nat in the training room and join the team for breakfast or dinner. Everyone noticed and, while at first thrown off by it, happily embraced it. Especially Bucky.

Initially, he got up to work out in the early hours of the morning as a habit. Now, he woke up to see you. His heart did flips in his chest every time he walked in the gym and saw you. Since that night, you started to acknowledge his presence, turning to smile and wave as he walked through the doors. It was something he looked forward to every day.

During the day, you were focused hard on tracking down Viktor and Bucky knew that. But he also knew he wanted to spend more time with you. He looked for reasons to enter the lab, whether it was offering snacks to you throughout the day or helping Bruce or, even Tony. Anything to see you again.

Bucky realized that there was a deeper, stronger emotion that he felt for you when he would wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. The first thing he thought about was you. Specifically, how you were the only thing that could possibly calm him down. Although he’d come in that night to help you with your panic attack, you ended up helping him as well. He hadn’t slept as soundly and peacefully as he did with you. And you hadn’t either. There were several nights when neither of you could sleep and ended up running into each other. It slowly became a routine that would begin in the kitchen, exchanging life stories, and end on the couch in the common area, entangled in each other’s arms.

Tonight you didn’t show up and Bucky panicked. He stared at the kitchen clock. It had been 20 minutes and you still hadn’t shown up. Bucky racked his brain for anything he could’ve done to scare you off, but came up with nothing. It wasn’t like you two had been officially together, Bucky had no idea what you were to each other. All he knew is that he wanted to be with you, always.

You were soundly asleep in bed, passing out as soon as your head hit the pillow. It was a particularly physically exhausting day for you, training with both Nat and Steve.

Bucky was so caught up with the thoughts racing through his head, he hadn’t noticed that his feet had taken him right to your door. He stands there for a moment, silently debating what to do. Grumbling under his breath, he musters up the courage to knock on your door. Right as he was about to turn away and shuffle off to his room, your door opens. You greet him with a yawn and a tired smile.

“Oh, hey Bucky.”

He looks at the bags under your eyes and feels instant regret wash over him, realizing that you weren’t avoiding him, but just getting some sleep.

“Sorry,” he looks down at his feet. You frown and place a hand on his cheek to lift his head up.

“Something wrong?” He avoids your gaze, partially because he’s embarrassed and partially because his cheeks were turning red because of your touch.

“No.” You cross your arms and let out a sigh.

“You’re a bad liar.” It’s his turn to sigh, as he scratches the back of his head.

“You didn’t come to the kitchen,” he lets out, in almost a whisper. It hits you. You were so tired, you had completely forgotten about your nightly tradition. “It’s stupid, sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up," he mumbles. Bucky begins to walk off but you grab his hand. When he turns to look at you, his brows are raised at your touch.

As you start to speak, you pull him close, facing you. “It’s not stupid.” His hands move to hold your waist as yours move to wrap around his neck. You pause, an idea popping into your head. “I’m kind of tired from training today, wanna just come sleep with me?” He nods and you drag him to your bed, nestling into his arms as he holds you to his chest, his chin resting above your head. You tilt your head back to see him looking down at you. There’s a fluttering feeling in your chest and you smile.

“Just for future reference, you have an open invitation to cuddle with me, anytime.” Bucky chuckles at your offer.

“I’ll keep that in mind, doll.”

Bucky cups your face in his hand and you nuzzle your cheek in his palm. His eyes dart down to your lips before returning to your eyes.

Then, the most delicate, sweetest kiss you’ve ever received is on your lips.

You flutter your eyes open as you both pull apart. He quickly kisses your nose before pulling you back into his chest, speaking softly.

“And you have an open invitation to kiss me, anytime.”

304 notes · View notes

1025cherrystreet · 3 years

Text

funeral

y/n attends a funeral and feels hopeless after losing her best friend until she meets her late bsf's cousin Harry.

a/n: this is for @harrystylescherry Playlist Fic Challenge!!! this is inspired by the song Funeral by Phoebe Bridgers. i used the name Phoebe in the story but i wasn't picturing Phoebe Bridgers when I was writing that character, i just liked the name and decided to go with it! but, y'all can picture her however y'all like lol. i went from loving this story to hating it, but i hope y'all like it! any feedback is appreciated!! <3

**despite it being surrounded by depressing matters, it's actually a cute and fluffy story lol! just wanted to point that out because i, myself, kinda avoid reading sad stories

warnings: a LOT of talk about death and dying and funerals, mentions depression/depressive episode?, mentions drugs and alcohol, swearing. i'm ceo of rushing the ending, soz <3 (also, gave up on proofreading lmao)

word count: 8k+ (this is the longest piece i've ever written lol)

Y/N has this dream. Where she's screaming underwater while her friends are waving at her from the shore. She's desperately calling for them, hoping and waiting for them to help, but, seemingly, her friends can't hear... and can't help. Submerged beneath the thrashing waters, her wails fall silent; her familiars deaf to her pleads. The more she struggles to get to the surface for air, the deeper she sinks. Her friends just waving at her as she drifts to the bottom. Every time she jolts awake from these dreams in a sweat stained bed and sticky clothes, she decides to brush it off. Not wanting to think about the problems she needs to face or what she needs to work on. Always concluding that she doesn't need anyone to tell her what it means or overanalyze her life through misplaced visions. Deciding to not believe assumptions made from vague, painful pictures.

As the familiar sinking feeling in her chest starts yet again, Y/N snaps her eyes up at the casket as the sound of her best friend's mother releasing a heart wrenching sob catches her focus.

The contrast of the white roses that lay on top of Phoebe's mahogany stained casket almost glow in the evening light, seeming like a mock to such a somber evening. The way the living looks so effervescent and bright, casting shadows on the less fortunate. The dead never celebrated in such light but rather mourned in dim grief and sadness.

Y/N doesn't like funerals, and not just because her best friend of 10 years is the recipient of this one. She's never cared for them. Believing they're just an excuse to get over the one they are to be honoring, they carry a stigma that everyone in attendance has to cry or you're seen as heartless, while the people who were never close to the deceased are presumed fake for showing emotion. Y/N thinks they're a big joke... with a cruel, cruel punchline.

The sound of despondent music playing and cries ring throughout the cemetery as Phoebe's casket is lowered six feet into the ground. The unchecked emotions start to boil inside of Y/N. Anger boiling deep inside of her quickly reaching its point, anger that stems from betrayal, that stems from hurt, that stems from...loss. She quietly scoffs, shaking her head with a stone cold look, before quickly getting up and walking away from the ceremony as her late friend's uncle, Bill, wraps up his poor excuse of a eulogy.

Phoebe wouldn't have wanted this. She wouldn't have wanted people to cry over her casket, stuck laying in a padded box while people who don't even know the real her, speak of her existence like they were the best of friends. They weren't. She was. Y/N was her best friend. These people don't... didn't know her like Y/N does. It's all bullshit.

In Y/N's quick pace away from the tent around the damp open ground, she spots a bigger gravestone with a stone bench built into it and takes a seat.

She inhales deeply, taking a moment to herself to look up at the sky. The clouds that overcast part of the blue sky drifting farther away from the graveyard as the sun starts making its way to set. She breathes in, the delightful scent of honeysuckle and dewy grass filling her nose before it's tainted by fumes of petrol from the road just on the other side of the cemetery gates behind her. It's so unfair; why of all people did Phoebe have to-

"It's all a joke," A deep accent says to her left.

She almost jumps out of her seat when she turns to the man who took the empty spot next to her. Jesus Christ, where the fuck did he come from? she thinks to herself. He had brown curly hair and green eyes (well, thinking green from what she can gather staring at the side of his face), wearing a black suit with a black button up shirt underneath. Rings clad his fingers and the sunset gleam shines off his cross necklace. She stares wide-eyed at him for a few moments before shaking her head to get out of her daze.

"Huh?" She says when she realizes he had spoken before.

"It's all a big joke," He repeats himself, the British accent more noticeable this time around. His head faced towards the funeral, having not spared a glance at her once this whole time.

She settles back into her seat, shifting her gaze to match his with the group of mourning people in the distance.

"Yeah." Y/N sighs in agreement.

The two of them sit in silence for a moment before Y/N decides to speak. Thinking to herself that if anyone would listen to her thoughts, a man who's also ditching the shitty eulogy would be her best bet.

"They all talk about her as if she was God." She chuckles humorlessly.

He scoffs with a small smirk, "Far from it."

Another wave of silence crashes over them, before Y/N breaks it once again.

"She would've hated this," She whispers, "People she barely even knows crying over her like they had any significance in her life. She probably only talked to five people here. She didn't even like her uncle." She laughs, referencing the man who gave the half-assed eulogy about how Phoebe being such an innocent, bright young girl.

"They're grieving her loss instead of celebrating her life, it's all fucked," He clears his throat before continuing, "Funerals are for the living."

"I hate funerals..." She says in reply.

Glancing at the boy beside her when she hears him digging through his jacket pocket, pulling out a flask. He takes a sip, and another, before gesturing it to her. Not overthinking it too much, she takes the cool metal bottle and takes a big gulp. Tasting the burn of vodka in her throat and mint from what she supposes is the mysterious strangers mouth.

Handing the flask back she says, "She would've wanted a party. Something where everyone was having fun in her honor, not some substandard funeral full of random people and careless words."

This time he's the one who chuckles humorlessly, "Yeah, she would've wanted everyone t'take shots and dress up in fancy clothes n' wreak havoc on this fucking town,"

Y/N smiles at this because Phoebe really would. Phoebe was the type of person who everyone wanted to be friends with, but also who everyone was scared of. She was mysterious and intimidating (a bit like the man next to her, Y/N thinks). Phoebe was a master at persuasion and could get almost anyone to go on crazy fucking adventures with her. One of Y/N's favorite memories with Phoebe was when they dressed up in wedding dresses they had gotten from a second-hand store and walked down the street yelling random things at strangers, taking turns drinking tequila from a metal water bottle.

"She really was something else, huh?" Y/N says a bit somberly, reminiscing on her late best friend.

"Definitely, a know-it-all," He laughs, bringing the flask up to his mouth.

"Oh, of course, she always thought she was right." She smirks.

"I mean, most of the time she was." He shrugs.

"Yeah, how did she always know everything?" The two of you laugh, taking turns drinking from the flask.

He shakes his head in disbelief, silence settling over the pair again.

"How did you know her?" He asks, still staring at the gathering of people in the distance.

"...She was my best friend," Y/N responds quietly, still staring out at the sunset.

He hums in return, "You?" She asks as she hands the flask over.

"Her cousin." His rough voice speaks out.

"You're Harry?" She says, less as a question and more in disbelief. Phoebe always mentioned her cousin Harry from England, always telling Y/N of stories they had together getting into reckless shit.

She turns her head to look at him just as he does, "And you're Y/N."

He offers a soft, knowing smile, both having heard countless stories of one another from Phoebe. He leans back and extends his arm on the top of the bench behind her, feeling the warmth of his body radiate off of him.

"I wonder what she'd say to me now. Sitting on a random gravestone in our hometown, drinking out of her cousin's flask, ditching what's supposed to be her remembrance." Y/N says, leaning back on the bench too.

"She would've said, 'quit y'crying, it's a sign of the times' and then would drag your arse t'the nearest pub." He laughs.

She joins in on the soft laughter, shaking her head because she knows that's exactly what she would've said. Phoebe was such a joy to be around, her presence unmatched.

"You know, she always talked about wanting to leave a legacy behind. Most of the time, I just laughed at her, thinking it was just another bizarre thing to come out of her mouth. But, she was always saying she wanted to be remembered as some enigma when she dies..." Y/N recalls the many memories of her and Phoebe staying up til 4am talking. Chills suddenly covering her body, not only from the cool Winter air but because of how Phoebe had talked about her death and now she's actually...dead.

She turns her head to look at Harry and he has a bittersweet smile on his face.

"I think she's accomplished that quite well, hasn't she?" He replies.

"How?" She questions softly with furrowed brows.

"Well, f'starters, her funeral is full of people who never even knew her, or frankly even cared about her, while two emotionless people just got up and stormed away from it t'drink vodka out of a flask on some random person's gravestone." He laughs before tacking on, "Trust me, the people over there are wondering who the hell she was and who she knew, right about now."

She turns her head from the (quite pretty, she thinks) boy to her left, looking at the wake, only to be met with a few people staring back at them.

"Well, I'll be damned," She scoffs. "Of course, the bitch did it." A smile bright on her face, probably the only real grin she's pulled since Phoebe's passing. Her best friends wishes coming true makes her heart warm just a tad, a relief to how cold losing her best friend made it.

"Always able t'make her life seem like an episode of Pretty Little Liars." He says shaking his head with a knowing smirk.

This comment makes Y/N laugh quite loudly, drawing a few — what she could only think were glares — back at her. Wiping a stray tear from her face that fell due to her laughing. The sweet sound coming from her lips only tacking on Harry to join her.

"Oh my god, she practically lived in an indie movie, always the role of the mysterious main character!" She chuckled out, creases forming at the corners of her eyes that Harry has taken a liking to.

As both of their laughter slowly dies out, another silence comes over them; only this time it's almost deafening. It's like the weight of the matter finally settled in.

Harry lets out a deep sigh, staring out at the never ending field of stone. Flowers accompany very few of the many graves; some wilted, some looking fresh, some long gone by now. Name placards littering the ground, all of these lost and forgotten people just decomposing underneath them. People coming and going to visit, only to be forgotten as time goes by, memories fading from their loved ones' mind. He wonders if he could ever forget Phoebe. No, I could never, he thinks to himself. He could never forget the only person that ever truly believed in him and embraced him for being himself.

Deciding he doesn't want to give anymore thought to the painful insight that one day he might forget Phoebe, he asks Y/N something instead.

"Y'wanna get out of here? M'starvin'."

The quiet girl next to him looks his way, his green eyes meeting her's that shine in the last few minutes of orange sunlight. Her eyes are so pretty, he tries to mentally shake that thought out of his head. He can't be hitting on his late cousin's best friend at her funeral, for fuck's sake.

Y/N only nods in response, gathering her bag and phone before standing from the bench. Harry towers over her when he gets up and the observation of how tall her his makes Y/N feel all giddy inside for some reason. Placing the flask back in his suit jacket pocket, he leads the way to a small restaurant nearby. She walks beside him the whole way there, the two of them just quietly observing everything around them.

***

The crisp, cool air passes through, goosebumps creeping up their arms as they sit in the outside seating of a small restaurant. Comfortable silence wraps them up and spits them out as their minds explore all the vast depths of their troubled minds, giving them time for their treacherous thoughts to eat at their sanity bit by bit.

"Phoebe told me once," Y/N cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the scratchy feeling from not using it. Harry's green eyes moved to her from his observance of the lonely street they're next to as she spoke softly. "She told me the only time she truly felt alive was when she made decisions that were reckless and spontaneous. She said living her life precariously was the only reason for her happiness, claiming that the perfect life is just an illusion. That dreaming of labor should not be the goal, but instead becoming your authentic self and living with no regrets..."

Harry stays quiet, reflection in his eyes as he stares at her from across the table, chewing the food in his mouth. Y/N plays around with the food on her plate with her fork and waits for his acknowledgment (although, she doesn't even know if he would say or do anything -- she doesn't know why she decided to tell him that)

"I mean, she's right, righ'? I never understood when people would ask what your 'dream job' is from a young age. No one's dream is t'work everyday 'til they die. They have to, t'make a living and survive, but what's the point in living if you aren't enjoyin' it. But, if y'workin' all the time, how do you make the time to really live?" He says, furrowing his brows as he talks.

Y/N takes in his words. The moonlight and street lamps casting a soft glow on his face, his carved features looking even more beautiful at night.

"Yeah... I guess, I guess I just envy how she viewed life, ya know?" She states, looking at the cars drive by as she tries to explain how she feels. "Always saying things to make you rethink your existence and purpose..." She looks back at Harry and whispers, "...She talked about life so much like she knew she was going to die."

"Well, we're all gonna die eventually." Harry rests his arms on the table with a quiet sigh, his features passive, but his mind is thinking of how he just wants to hug her and tell her everything is going to be alright.

"Yeah, but she just...she talked about it like she knew all the answers. She knew exactly what to say, when to say it. Sometimes, I feel like she was telling everyone around her how to live in complete happiness because she knew she didn't have much of her own, despite convincing everyone she was carefree and unbothered." Y/N shrugs and watches as they fall into a short silence.

"...I miss her." Harry breathes out after a moment, reaching his hand across the table to hold hers. Her skin is soft against his as he rubs his thumb against her hand in an attempt to comfort both of them.

Her eyes soaking in his softened expression, her cherry tinted lips whispering, "Me too."

They eat the rest of their dinner in silence, the only sounds reverberating from the road with the occasional car or pedestrian. Harry pays for the food, but not without many protests from Y/N.

As the two walk side by side down the street, back to the cemetery to pick up their cars, Y/N suddenly falls anxious. She doesn't want to be alone tonight, scared of being alone with her thoughts when she goes back to stay in her childhood home. Her parents, still living in the house they lived in since her youth, had to drive up to another town for a few nights to stay with her cousins because they planned to go there before the news broke about Phoebe. Leaving Y/N alone in the empty house since there wasn't room for her at her cousins.

The black cemetery gates coming into view, eeriness and gloom becoming more apparent when the sun is down, Y/N and Harry can see their two cars sitting idly on the side of the road. Y/N fidgets with her fingers as they grow close to departure.

"D-do you, maybe, wanna hang out for a little while longer?" She turns to face him, looking up at him nervously. "I just don't want to be alone right now." She rushes out when he doesn't respond.

"Yeah, I didn't really want t'go home alone right now either." He offers a sliver of a smile before unlocking his car, grabbing two brown paper bags that look to hold bottles, and gesturing his head, "C'mon, we'll pick up my car later. Let's go celebrate Pheebz, yeah?" He grins.

She smiles at him, unlocking her own car and waiting for him to get in, putting on a playlist full of Phoebe's favorite songs. She drives through her hometown, memories stirring up of her and her best friend smoking weed in the park the summer before graduation and jumping in the lake naked in the middle of winter. The two end up at her house sitting in her abandoned driveway, both unbuckling but neither making the move to get out of the parked car, the engine still running as they sit listening to the melodies playing from the speaker.

Harry suddenly pulls out two bottles from the brown paper bags at his feet, one of vodka and the other tequila.

"Pick y'poison." He says with a smirk.

She picks the vodka and Harry mutters, "Good choice, tequila is more m'speed."

"Weren't you drinking vodka at the funeral?" She laughs, unscrewing the cap.

"Yeah, figured I'd drink Phoebe's favorite since it was her party." He chuckles.

"To Phoebe." Y/N says, sorrow lacing her voice as she turns in her seat to face Harry.

"To living your life precariously." He says before the two of them take a big gulp of the sharp liquid, starting what will only be the beginning of a long night.

***

Light shines through the white curtains, the room glowing bright in the soft, yellow sunlight. The white comforter tangled up in bodies as birds chirp in the morning tranquility. Y/N's eyes flutter open, immediately feeling sweaty and clammy. The headache that sets in reminds her of the amount of alcohol she consumed last night. Waking up in her childhood bed after blacking out in the backseat of her car the night before doing very little for her sanity.

As she lays in bed, groggy, she needs to pee. She moves to get up and walk to the bathroom connected to her room, only to freeze when an arm wraps around her and pulls her closer. Warm breathes pant at the back of her neck, unintelligible murmurs coming from the person behind her. Her eyes widen, realizing Harry is the one she is snuggling with in the early morning (afternoon?) light. Despite needing to pee really badly, she finds herself only melting into his touch. She can't remember the last time someone held her like this, can't remember the last time she felt this content. In fact, she thinks the last time she cuddled with someone was with Phoebe when she slept over in her room at their apartment... Well, just Y/N's apartment now.

Y/N and Phoebe would have movie nights in Y/N's room and in the midst of the fun, they would grow tired. Phoebe would never want to leave the comfort of Y/N's warm bed, so she always asked, sleepover?, with a wide grin. To which Y/N never refused and the two would put on The Notebook and fall asleep spooning one another. The first time it happened, when they were children having sleepovers, she tensed a bit; thinking it weird for her friend to cuddle her because no one had ever done that. But, as the years went by and their friendship grew stronger, knowing that despite both of them being bisexual it wasn't an act of intimacy, but one of platonic comfort.

So, Y/N figured (in her touch deprived mind) that this was just an act of friendly, platonic intimacy...nothing else. After coming to that conclusion, she let herself relax into his touch, his warm embrace nodding her off to sleep once again.

What wakes her up the second time is the sound of a gravelly voice groaning. The arm around her waist squeezes tightly before the body it's attached to tenses up. Harry tries to take in the position they're in -- his arm snuggling her close to his bare chest and legs intertwined with hers -- but his hangover headache clouds his mind too much to think about it. Only registering that he's never felt this comfortable with someone before, never felt someone so warm and cozy. He's cuddled lots of girls (and guys), has spent many mornings waking up in someones hold or holding someone in his, but they've never been as addicting as her. Never being so relaxing, so soft. He's about to just say, fuck it, and fall back asleep as to spend as much time with her in his clutch, but Y/N had stirred awake from his groaning and she really has to pee!

She slowly turns in his arms, their legs shifting apart, and is met with probably the cutest sight she's ever seen. His eyes are glassy and the green of his irises shine in the soft light. His lips pink and his face holding a hesitant look, like he thinks she might yell at him for accidentally ending up in his arms throughout the night, but she can also sense the underlying feeling of content reading on his face. The way his eyes soften when they meet hers and the way his hand involuntarily squeezes at her side. The serene feeling almost tangible as her childhood room becomes their own little world. All the responsibilities and pain of the outside fall ceased at the door decorated with heights of a growing Y/N.

"G'morning," His gravelly voice going straight to her heart, melting it at the beautiful sound.

"Good morning," She says in a raspy whisper, her throat dry from the alcohol and singing at the top of her lungs the night before.

She takes the quiet moment to look at his body, her gaze drifting from tattoo to tattoo, not realizing how many he has. She knew he had some from the ones on his hands yesterday, but she didn't know he had so many. His long sleeve button up had covered the view of the ones adorning his arms, but she looks at them now in awe, thinking how pretty they are.

She's about to tell him how much she likes the butterfly tattoo on his chest, when her bladder has other plans.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to pee," She bashfully smiles as she looks at him.

"Oh, m'sorry. Probably should've told ya' I'm a cuddler." He gives a small smile with embarrassment soaking his words, thinking he's made her uncomfortable.

"No need to apologize," Her eyes light up at his out of character shyness, "I am too, I just really have to go to the bathroom." The harmonious sound of her giggles soothing every worry in Harry's body.

He playfully sighs, "Fine, I guess I'll let y'go piss."

A smirk pulls at his lips as she rolls her eyes and gets up, but he can see the corners of her lips turn up.

She goes to the bathroom, doing her business and washing her hands. She takes the time to brush her teeth and wash her face, cringing when she looks in the mirror. She feels gross that she looked like this when Harry woke up with the resemblance of an angel.

When she's finished, she walks out back into her room, excited to get back into the warm bed (and hopefully cuddle with Harry some more, but she would never admit that out loud), but she's met with abandoned sheets and panic consumes her. Did he leave? Did I make him uncomfortable by waking up in his arms? He was the one to cuddle me and he joked about it! But maybe he was just trying to be nice so he could escape? Her mind starts to race a mile a minute of anxious thoughts before they're all suddenly wiped away at the smell of coffee wafting in from the open doorway.

She throws on a sweatshirt and socks and makes her way down the stairs of the familiar, yet foreign after spending so long away from home, house. Her sock clad feet pad on the hardwood floors as she walks into the kitchen, spotting Harry silently staring at a spot on the wall with a cup of coffee in his hand (he's using the same pink and green mug with a little ceramic pig sitting on the top of the handle that Phoebe would use every time she'd sleepover in high school).

She walks in quietly, coming up behind him and grabbing a cup of coffee for herself, noticing the two pain killers next to the pot (which made her heart swell if she's honest). He had heard her coming down the stairs, but despite her presence his focus is still on the spot on the wall. Taking a sip of her pick-me-up and swallowing the pills, she takes up space next to Harry, following his eyes that stare intently at a picture frame hanging up and her eyes immediately soften.

"That was freshman year," Y/N spoke delicately, staring at the picture herself, "We had both been asked to prom by these senior guys. I was ecstatic because no one had ever shown any liking to me, but Phoebe had played it cool, of course." Harry lets out a quiet breathy laugh because of course Phoebe didn't care.

"We spent weeks planning out how prom night would be. Imagining how the senior parties would be like and if the boys would kiss us by the end of the night or not. She came over at 9am the morning of the dance and we spent all day getting ready and laughing with each other. She had even done my makeup all pretty and I helped her get into her dress. I remember I laughed when she decided she was going to wear converse under her dress, and she almost convinced me to do it too because she said 'you're not gonna be the one laughing when we're at all the after parties and your feet are killing you'." A genuine smile forms on Y/N's face as she reminisces on the cherished moment.

"But, two hours before the dance, our dates cancelled on us and told us they were going with these senior girls." Harry scoffs bitterly, understanding how cruel teenage boys are.

"I remember I was so upset because the one time I thought someone actually liked me or thought I was pretty enough to go to prom with, had just made me a second choice..." She recalls to Harry, who is now looking at the side of her face as she looks at the picture of Phoebe carrying Y/N on her back, piggy-back style, in long prom dresses, dirty white converse peaking out from under both girls' dresses.

"So, she grabbed me by the arms and looked me in the eyes and said 'Y/N L/N, we are deserving of the love we wish for. No senior boys are going to make us doubt that. We are not little freshmen girls who can be seen as cheap thrills and easy hookups. We are women, who demand respect and complete infatuation.' Then she took the tickets that the boys had pre-purchased for us, took my hand, and dragged me to that dance. We had been each other's date and made prom our bitch. She even got us into a party afterward...And we had one hell of a night."

She smiles fondly at the sweet memory. Harry's eyes flutter between the picture and the beautiful girl next to him. How could she ever think of herself as a second choice?, is all he can wonder to himself.

Letting his gaze fall to the picture one last time, he mumbles, "Well, those boys missed out on the best thing t'ever happen t'them."

He doesn't catch Y/N's blush that creeps up on her cheeks as he turns around, taking a sip from his little pig mug.

She shakes her head as to get out of the crushing haze she falls into, turning and walking to the countertop, leaning against it as Harry stands in front of her on the other side.

"Thank you. F'letting me stay the night, last night." He speaks up.

Y/N notices how he's still lacking a shirt, making her mouth dry up just a little at the sight of how fit he is. The tattoos stretching across his tan skin so perfectly, the black ink creating such a beautiful contrast on his body. He catches onto the not-so-subtle gawking and smirks.

"Uh, yeah. It's really no problem. There's no way I'd have let you drive home intoxicated and it was the least I could do after I made you practically spend the day with me." She blushes.

"Y'didn't make me," He shakes his head gently with a smile.

Y/N doesn't know to feel about how her cheeks heat up at his remark, shyly looking away as the teasing gleam in his eyes might make her combust.

"O-okay. Good to know." She squeaks out, the action only fueling Harry's ego and playful mood.

"I should go get m'car from the cemetery before it gets towed," He says almost disappointedly, like he doesn't want to leave yet. If she's being honest, she doesn't want him to leave yet either.

"Yeah, that wouldn't be good. I'll give you a ride." She says, shaking off the saddened feeling of his departure.

"Oh, you don't have t'do tha'." He shakes his head but Y/N quickly shoots him down.

"Nonsense, I'll take you. It's no big deal."

He smiles at her objection, nodding, and going upstairs to grab the rest of his clothes, feeling uncomfortable in his dress pants from the funeral that he had put back on when he got up this morning, not wanting to make Y/N feel weird by staying in only his boxers.

***

Vodka Lover: hey... are you up?

She chews on the skin around her thumb, a nervous habit that Phoebe had always teased her about, as she sends the text to Harry (having exchanged numbers when she had dropped him off at his car at the cemetery). Phoebe had always said, 'You're not gonna have any thumb left to chew, babes, if you keep at it'. To which Y/N just rolled her eyes, but in the deafening silence of 4am, she wishes she cherished those moments with her best friend more. Wishing she didn't take for granted in those little encounters of Phoebe's care and concern with her well-being. Y/N would give anything to be able to spend one more minute with her.

Butterfly Boy: yeah, everything okay?

Vodka Lover: um, can i call you?

Suddenly, breaking the bitter quiet with a ringtone, her phone she holds in her palm lights up with Harry's contact. A tear falls from her face onto the screen and she has to wipe it away before she presses accept.

"Y/N?" Harry's deep voice rings out, laced in worry, from the other line.

She chokes out a sob, not being able to hold it back anymore. The floodgate of her emotions she has been trying to keep at bay suddenly burst. Salty tears fall onto the blue fluffy blanket from her senior year she's wrapped up in.

"Hey, hey, s'everythin' okay? What's wrong?" Harry says, more alert now that he hears her in such a fragile and frantic state.

Y/N just cries harder, desperately trying to catch her breath, she feels like she's suffocating.

"Hey, love, just breathe. Just breathe, Y/N." He tries to coax her down in a soothing voice.

A raggedy breath is heard on Harry's side, making the worry dissipate just a little now that he knows she's breathing. Harry sits up in his bed, calling out to Y/N, repeatedly telling her to just keep breathing. He can't get to what's wrong if she hyperventilates.

He was laying restless in his bed when she had texted, lost in thoughts of life and replaying memories with his cousin. Trying to grasp everything she's ever told him before, hoping that by watching the moments he spent with her like a film reel in his mind would help him not forget them.

"Love, can y'tell me what's got you so upset? Please," He asks softly when she calms down enough where her breathing is regular and not sporadic inhales gasping for air.

"I-I-I miss her," She cries out into the phone, the thought of embarrassing herself by breaking down to Harry not on her mind; the only thought she has is how empty she feels.

"I know, I know, love. I miss her, too," He sighs out sadly, wishing he could take away her pain, hating the way her voice quivers with every word. "Do you want t'talk about it?"

She wipes the tears that sting her eyes and cascade down her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. The one she wore when Harry slept over, smelling a little like him still from the car ride to his car that day, three days ago.

They had been texting each other and talking every day since then, usually about light topics like asking how their day's were or what they were doing. However, tonight (or early morning), everything felt like it was crashing down on her. Y/N's strong front she had put up since the funeral for Phoebe's family finally collapsed, and she's found herself stuck under the rubble. She was trying so hard to keep it in because she shouldn't be feeling sorry for herself when someone's kid is dead.

She had bored herself to tears, not knowing what to do. The only thing that seemed right was to call Harry.

"Talk to me, babe." He begs her, running a hand through his disheveled curls.

"I-" She sniffles, "I feel like I'm fucking drowning,"

He hates how defeated her voice sounds and he wishes he could just be there to hug her and tell her everything's going to be okay, eventually.

"It-it feels like my whole life is in ruins. Harry, I miss her." Her face scrunches up again as she starts to sob, "Sh-She was my best friend, I d-did everything with her. How am I s-supposed to do this without her? How am I supposed t-to live without her?"

"Oh, darling. I know, but you will..and you can." He frowns, racking his brain for the right thing to tell her, "You got t'live so you can experience all those ways of life she always talked about. Y'haven't experienced all those feelings Pheebz would mention when she would live her life precariously. Don't y'want to know how she felt when she would talk of such a beautiful life she lived, yeah?"

He hears a hiccup and a quiet, albeit breathy, yeah, from the other side of the call.

"You are so strong, Y/N. I don't know how y'made it this far without breaking down..." He tells her whole-heartedly.

"D-don't know how you haven't either," She gets out, realizing how selfish she's probably being, bothering Harry with her grief when he has his own to deal with.

"Honestly," He breathes out through a somber smile, "The only reason I haven't is because I have you, love."

Y/N's heart swells tenfold, she thinks. She didn't realize Harry needed her just as much as she needed him.

"...I'm sorry for calling you, I know it's late." She says through sniffles when she notices the time.

"There's no reason to apologize. It's okay, love. It's okay to hurt or be angry or upset. No one expects you to be perfect all the time." He pauses, listening to her breathing.

"Ya know, one day, it won't hurt this much. One day, you'll be able t'look back at this moment and it won't break y'heart as much as it does now. You're just in the thick of it right now, pretty girl. But, the light's coming soon, I promise." He continues and Y/N feels her heart beat faster at the pet name.

"You promise?" Her voice barely above a whisper and Harry thinks his heart just broke at the sound.

"Promise." He says, wiping the stray tears rolling down his cheeks, "Phoebe wouldn't want y'to be this upset. She would want you to keep living your life and find out the ways to how she was so in love with it. If not for yourself, love, then for her...F'me."

She nods, despite knowing he can't see. Silence falls over the pair, only the sound of bated breaths assuring the other one is there.

"One summer," He speaks up, "One summer, my family had come t'visit them, partly because of the lake near her house. It was after we had moved t'the States from Cheshire, and Phoebe and I would go walk to the little pond near the park,"

"The one near Hope?" She asks quietly if they had gone to the park she had always played at as a little girl.

"Mhm. We would walk there in the blistering sun and when we got there she tried to convince me how fairies were real." He said in a calm voice.

He hears an airy puff of breath escape her mouth, which he takes as a small giggle -- making him want to continue his story as it's helping her cheer up, and because he'd probably do anything to hear her that sound from her.

"Yeah, fairies. She told me that they live at the pond and t'see them, I would have to find a pretty flower and then jump in the water with it in only m'underwear." He breathes out a laugh.

Y/N gasps, trying to keep quiet but fails when she lets out a loud laugh.

"Oh my, did you do it?" She asks bewildered, laying down so her head rests against the pillow.

"So, I told Phoebe 'no way', yeah? But, then she said she can't just tell me about them and not follow through with seeing them. Convinced me that it would bring bad luck." He scoffs, remembering the memory vividly.

"Bad luck, indeed." She giggles and it brings the dimple out on Harry's face.

"Yeah, so of course, me being like 8 or sum', I stripped down to m'pants in the middle of the day and jumped in the water." He smiles when he hears her laughing, even if it's at his expense. "Y'laughing, but I think I got ringworm after tha'!"

"I can't believe she got you to do that! I wish I'd been there." Y/N says, out of breath from laughing.

"Scarred me of ponds for the rest of m'life." He chuckles and a pause takes them both over as they settle back down.

"...Thank you, H." She whispers into the phone, adoration taking up all her features.

“F’what?”

“For being you, for being here. Just...Thank you.” She sighs.

They get lost in recalling stories of their loved one for the rest of the night, repainting her memories in gold. They laugh with each other until all the pain seems to disappear. The weight, of what felt like the world, lifting off of both their shoulders. Finally being able to breathe after days of endless battles of trying to stay strong for Phoebe's sake.

***

Days pass since the lonely 4am phone call and Y/N and Harry are still talking everyday.

She finds out he lives in her city, only a few blocks from her apartment she shared with Phoebe! She didn't believe him when he first told her, but he said he was always busy with college whenever Phoebe tried to meet up. Y/N's not going to lie, her heart picked up when she found out he'd be so close to her, wondering if he'd want to hang out with her when they leave her hometown.

Almost everyday of the last few days they have visiting, they've spent at Y/N's empty childhood home. Harry asking her to explain pictures and what she was like in high school, whenever he gets the chance. In turn, she's been picking his mind on what Holmes Chapel was like and how his family was growing up. She found out that he lived with his sister, Gemma, and his mom, Anne. They talked about everything, from their favorite things to every pet they've ever had (Y/N, particularly, falling in love with the pictures of his cat, Evie).

Just as the last few days have been spent, they are spending Y/N's last day in her hometown together before she goes back. Harry told her he had to stay a couple more nights with his family before he could leave, assuring her he would've gone back with her if he could've. That comment made her blush and she had to pray the butterflies growing in her tummy to relax.

That's another thing. Y/N had stopped lying to herself and denying the ache in her chest that would form when she was away from Harry, growing very fond of him since their first encounter at the headstone bench.

Harry, also, couldn't deny any longer the way his heart would flutter at every little thing she did. Just wondering to himself how everything about her was just so pretty. He loved the way her eyes would light up every time she saw him and how he would catch her checking him out whenever he took off his shirt.

He especially loved the way she let him sleepover a few times and how they would end up cuddling into the late hours of the morning. Both parties not minding one bit, the comfort and warmth actually preferred than sending Harry home to sleep in his own bed.

"Bet I can reach that branch right there," Harry shouts with a gleeful tone, a bit out of breath as he tries to stretch his legs far enough so his shoe brushes against the leaf on the end of the tree branch.

The two of them decided to go to Hope park, where they both held fond childhood memories at. They settled at the swingset, calm swaying in the seats quickly turning into a competition of who could swing the highest. Harry won of course, his legs being much longer than hers giving him the advantage. Playful giggles and sweet conversations of things occurring in that moment help distract them from both Phoebe and the fact that Y/N is leaving.

Y/N is distracting herself from worrying about if Harry will reach out to her when they get back to the city, if he even wants to talk to her again after this weekend or if this was all just out of politeness.

Harry, on the other hand, is distracting himself from wondering if she fancies him. He wonders if the cuddles and small touches meant as much to her as they did him, if after this weekend she would want to hang out again or if she was just being nice because he knows what she's going through.

"Bet I can reach it before you!" She giggles as her hair whips around in the wind she's created. Pumping her legs back and forth, desperately trying to get higher so she can beat Harry in her made up competition.

"Now, love, not everything has to be a competition," He huffs, really reaching out this time, "But, I wanna win, if we're playing a game, I wanna win." He grins, the cute dimple that Y/N has fallen for making an appearance on his face.

The two try their hardest to be the first ones to touch the tree branch hanging not too far from their swinging feet at their highest point. Harry, however, attempts a little too hard and flies off the swing when he lifted up his leg to make the two inch gap he was short of.

Tumbling to the woodchip covered ground, he ends up laying on his back. Groans spill out of his mouth and Y/N's eyes go wide with concern. She slows herself down just enough to safely jump off the swingset, rushing to Harry's side.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" She asks worriedly, trying to hold back the laugh that's trying to bust out. Crouching down to him, she runs her hand over his arm that's grabbing his leg.

He rubs his knee with a pained smile, "Yeah, just peachy, pet."

"Is anything hurting? Bruised?" She questions with a loving smile.

"Just my ego," He chuckles, looking up at her and admiring her caring nature.

She can't hold it in anymore, she laughs loudly at his comment, her carefree happiness making Harry's ears perk up and his heart warm.

"Yeah, love, just laugh at the crippled man." He jokes, smiling up at her happy face, wishing it could stay that way forever.

She lets out another laugh at his comment, delicately grabbing his arm to help him up, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It wasn't funny," She attempts to calm herself but fails, "Okay, it was a little bit funny!"

Giggles fall out of her mouth as Harry brushes off the mulch from his jeans, "See how much you're laughing when I push you out of the swing."

"I'm soo scared." She mocks fear.

"Oh, just wait, pet. You'll never be safe on another swing set again." He playfully grabs her sides to tickle her, but her fighting his tries just ends up bringing her closer in his hold.

Their laughs quickly die out when they realize he's holding her in his clutch, his hands at her waist, hers around his neck. Harry stares into her eyes as she stares back into his. The empty park is serene, no other noises besides the chirping of birds and the sounds of other animals sprawling about. The sweet moment causes Y/N's breath to hitch and her palms to sweat. They've only been this close when cuddling, she's never been this close to his face before. His features glow in the sunlight, his green irises complimenting the bounce of his skin and dark eyelashes. Her skin is soft and warm against his, and he just wants to lean in and-

Y/N's eyes flutter close as Harry's face comes closer, his lips meet hers in a gentle caress. With the sweet kiss, he takes note of how soft her lips are, how warm and fuzzy her intimate touch is making his head. While one hand is squeezing at her side, the other is brought up to cradle her face and she leans into his touch. Harry sucks on her bottom lip before peeling away so they can catch their breath.

Y/N lets out a whine at the loss of contact, her bottom lip jutting out as he pulls away.

"What are y'pouting for, pet? W-was that not okay? Should I not have done tha'?" The blood almost drains from his face at the pouty look on her beautiful face.

She shakes her head at him, "No, I liked it. I want more," She pants, pulling him by the collar of his shirt to bring him back to her lips.

He chuckles at her cute antics (and in relief of not fucking up his shot with her). He smiles against her lips as he melts back into her, her hand around his neck reaching up to tangle in his curly hair. He groans when her nimble fingers pull tenderly at the curls at the base of his neck, causing him to squeeze her side gently.

She breathlessly kissed him, slotting her lips between his and immediately opening her mouth in acceptance when he brushes his tongue against her bottom lip in a silent ask to take it further. As the kiss deepens, the need for air increases. They naturally separate, Harry sucking her bottom lip as he goes until it pops back.

Taking in her reddened swollen lips and her pretty flushed face, he presses one last chaste kiss on her lips, and one to her cheek and her nose.

A big, genuine grin adorns Y/N's face as she stares up at the man in front of her.

"Thank you f'letting me do tha'." He says with a gravelly voice.

"I've been thinking about you doing that since the first night you stayed at my house." She tells him bashfully.

"Me too, love. And it was better than I ever expected," He says whole-heartedly, leaning in to press one more quick kiss to her lips again.

"So, does this mean we're gonna hang out when we both go back home? Because I really want to do that again." Her glassy eyes blink at him with hope awaiting his answer.

He smiles and shakes his head, bewildered at how she could ever think that he could just ghost her after that, "I think Phoebe would come back just to slap me upside the head if I ever kissed her best friend and just never saw her again."

She chuckles at his comment, shyly looking down to her hand on his chest when he doesn't say anything else.

"Of course, I want to hang out when we get back. I want to take y'out on a real date, if you'd let me." He looks at her all starry eyed, squeezing her waist.

"I think Phoebe would come back and slap me upside the head if I ever kissed her cousin and just never saw him again," This time he's the one that laughs.

"I'd love that very much, Harry." She beams up at him.

Going back home couldn't come sooner to the both of them.

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

ahhh i hope y’all liked that, i’d love feedback :) i’m thinking of making a series out of it, but only if that’s something y’all would like! so, pls let me know if you enjoyed it or if i should make a part 2 ??

anyways, stay safe and much love <3

472 notes · View notes

sparklysung · 3 years

Text

✨ADRENALINE RUSH PART II – n.j.m.✨

pairing – na jaemin x female!reader

genre – fluff, smut, angst | non-idol!au, school!au

warnings – good boy!soft dom!jaemin, bad girl!reader, heartbreak, penetration, unprotected sex (wrap your willies), creampie, dirty talk, pet names

word count – 4.731 words

summary – after leaving jaemin alone in the school’s library, there wasn’t only one heart broken.

note – it’s finally here! i hope it isn’t too bad, though, i don’t think i’m too good at writing stuff like this lmao. either way, enjoy! also, the gif isn’t mine, i found it on google, so credit to its owner!

taglist – @junguwuuu , @prvncejxon, @iwishihadabettername, @carelessshootanonymous

part i ; part ii

the next few days after you left jaemin all alone in the school’s library, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

you weren’t supposed to feel guilty, after all, that’s what you usually did; hookup with guys you found attractive and then never reach out for them again, pretending to not know them. and you have never had a problem with it before, you never got attached and they were aware of your reputation, so they knew what they were getting into.

but for some reason, jaemin was… different.

you weren’t really sure why, but something about him just made you feel things, things you have never felt with anyone else. you have never felt so good with any of the guys you had hooked up with. and by that, you didn’t only mean how good his touch felt on you, but also the sweet way he reacted to your loving pet names and caresses.

your heartless attitude only earned you what you had never thought you, a self-proclaimed cold-hearted bad girl would ever experience.

heartbreak.

now, jaemin tried everything to avoid you. he got out of his way so you wouldn’t bump into each other, leaving class as fast as humanly possible just so you wouldn’t be able to approach him. though he doubted you would ever get near him again, so he was actually doing you a favour, right?

after all, why else would you have left the way you did after your little rendezvous?

every time you happened to be in a room he had just stepped into, he turned around and left without giving you a second glance, face expressionless. but even when he tried to act tough in front of everyone else, you could see the pain in his eyes and it was slowly killing you.

truth is, you felt like a complete jerk.

scratch that, you knew you were.

but how could you comprehend the effect your actions had on jaemin if you didn’t even care?

as he had realized when you decided to walk away from him that awful day in the library, he meant nothing to you. and even though it hurt him to no end, that’s how life is.

cruel.

his friends knew something had happened to him. they could see how the usual spark in jaemin’s eyes was completely gone after you two got together to work on your genetics project. he usually kept to himself, which wasn’t really out of the ordinary coming from him, but lately he barely talked, only answering with monosyllables. he stopped taking part in their conversations, not even intervening when renjun and donghyuck’s bickering got out of hand.

“hey, nana, are you coming to chenle’s place later today? we’ll probably stay over and play games in his huge ass tv.” jeno’s cheerful voice made jaemin look up from his untouched lunch. he just nodded slightly before looking back down to his food.

he didn’t feel like talking or hanging out with anyone, but noticing the worried expression that had replaced jeno’s usual bright smile, he tried to put on his best smile. “sure,” he tried to reassure him. jeno didn’t seem so convinced, though he didn’t say anything about it.

his friends also noticed how he seemed to disappear whenever you were nearby, which confirmed their suspicions of something happening between you two. he usually took his time to get ready for his next class and was fairly organized, but from that day on, he didn’t even try, throwing all his belongings inside his back before rushing out of the door.

they were determined to find out what had happened with you to make jaemin stop being his usual self. the only problem was, how were they going to get it out of him?

~.~.~.~

“hyuck, go open the door, it must be jaemin.” jaemin could hear renjun’s voice yell from somewhere inside the house.

“ugh, you’re so annoying,” donghyuck rolled his eyes as he opened the door before going back upstairs to what he assumed was chenle’s room.

“dang, not even a hello,” shaking his head in disapproval, jaemin made his way inside, closing the door after himself.

noise –or more like screams– could be heard coming from upstairs as his friends were most likely already playing some game. he walked towards the kitchen where he found renjun and jeno preparing sandwiches and other snacks for all of them. when they saw jaemin walking in, they stopped what they were doing to look at him.

“hey, you came,” renjun smiled, happy to see his friend coming out of his newfound shell. just like the other guys, he was concerned about his sudden change of demeanor. he honestly missed his presence and dumb comments. not that he would ever tell him, though.

“can you help us with the drinks please?” jeno asked, hands full of snacks.

jaemin just nodded his head before taking six cups to fill with any drink he could find in chenle’s fridge. after they had emptied half of the cabinets, the three boys made their way to his friend’s bedroom in silence.

none of them knew what to say, or more like how to say it. renjun and jeno were dying to ask jaemin what was going on, why did he decide to stop hanging out as much with them, if they were right about you being involved in whatever happened. and jaemin could tell. he wasn’t blind to not notice the weird looks they constantly threw at each other, the way they quieted down every time he approached them. but he didn’t want to admit the mistake he had made. he couldn’t look them in the face after spoiling all their efforts to prevent this very situation from happening.

what would they think of him?

he was supposed to be the cautious one of them all, the one who wouldn’t get fooled so easily, the responsible one. but even if he knew for a fact you didn’t have good intentions, he still let himself fall and ended up hurt. how could he take care of his friends if he couldn’t even take care of himself.

“what took you so long?” jisung asked once they made it to their destination, snatching a few bags of chips from renjun’s arms.

“next time you’ll go get food, then,” the older boy clicked his tongue in annoyance, going to sit next to chenle on the bed.

nobody was surprised when jaemin sat by himself in a corner of the room, quietly staring at the floor. he didn’t even try to take part in their conversations, just nodding from time to time to assure them he was still listening. no one knew how to approach the situation, so chenle, tired of the weird ambiance the group of boys had been engulfed in for some time now, decided to take the initiative.

“what’s going on, jaemin? why can’t you tell us?” jaemin felt cold, mouth ajar in shock. he wasn’t expecting the topic to be brought up so soon and neither chenle to be the first one to confront him about it. “don’t even try to deny something’s up, we’re not dumb.”

“we want to help you, but we can’t do anything if you don’t trust us enough to tell us.”

and in that moment, jaemin finally broke.

“i fucked up,” his voice cracked, tears welling in his eyes, making his vision blurry.

“what? what do you mean?” donghyuck intervened. he wasn’t one to usually show concern but seeing his friend so distressed made his heart hurt.

“i hooked up with y/n that day we were supposed to work on our project.”

“we t-.”

“i know, alright! i know it was a mistake and i shouldn’t have let it happen, but now i don’t know what to do,” jaemin thought that venting to someone else about what happened would maybe make him feel better, but it didn’t, if something it actually made him feel worse. he was sure his friends though he was the biggest idiot in the whole world.

“shh, it’s okay, come here,” jeno opened his arms for jaemin, so the broken boy hugged him tightly, hiding the pained expression on his face in the elder’s shoulder.

“i don’t get it, how did this all happen?” a confused jisung asked, not understanding how the hell a simple project in pairs ended up in a hookup.

“i told her to meet me at the library so we wouldn’t be alone. i thought nothing could happen because there would be a lot of people around us, but things didn’t work out the way i thought they would,” and as jaemin told them the whole story, they couldn’t help but pity their friend.

“i thought maybe this time it would be different, you know? she talked to me as if she cared about me,” the dry chuckle he let out made the boys feel uneasy, “and i believed it.”

none of them doubted jaemin had at least a crush on you. yeah, sure, what you did was certainly not nice, but you weren’t together in any way. And that’s how hookups work, right? you fuck and then you leave. no feelings attached.

right?

“so you like her?” renjun asked, although it sounded more like a statement.

“i think i do.”

~.~.~.~

as much anxiety the thought of having to face you again sparked in jaemin, you both still needed to finish the project and you only had two days left. even if he didn’t feel ready to talk to you yet –though he doubted he would ever be–, he had to man up for the sake of his grades.

seeing as his strategy of working on it in a crowded place didn’t work, there wasn’t another option but to section the project and get it done each on its own.

so that’s what he intended when he waited for you in your locker, practicing his next move over and over again. the only thought in his head was getting out of the situation as soon as he could to avoid any kind of unnecessary interaction.

he was scared of his heart controlling his body and his actions rather than his head, as it would inevitably end in him falling for you once again and only more pain. it would be the perfect formula for yet another heartbreak.

and you were completely shocked when you saw him standing next to your locker, apparently waiting for you.

“you can finish the first half, i’ll do what’s left,” his eyes stayed trained on the floor as he spoke. he didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of seeing him so affected, so as soon as the words left his mouth, he was on his way, trying to flee the scene before you could react.

“jaemin, wait!” he stopped dead in his tracks, not bothering to turn around and look at you. “look, i-i’m really sor-.”

but he didn’t stay to hear the end of it.

he walked away just like you had done not even a week ago.

feeling a lump in your throat that made it harder for you to breathe, your heart shattered into tiny pieces you didn’t care to pick up as you stood frozen in place.

but yours wasn’t the only heart broken.

jaemin walked home with a heavy heart, eyes stinging from tears that threatened to run down his cheeks. his friends had warned him and yet there he was, sulking over you.

he felt like a fool. how could he have fallen into your trap? he knew the type of girl you were; a heartbreaker, a player, the bad girl. but either way, his heart betrayed him, pumping furiously whenever you smiled at him, whenever you got close enough for him to inhale your sweet perfume and feel your minty breath fan over his face.

anger boiled in his veins, why did you have to play with him like that? what did he ever do wrong to deserve it? he had never bothered you, always staying in his lane and out of your way. he didn’t like confrontations so he stayed away from them, and being near you always included some kind of trouble.

but what hurt him the most was that he actually believed your sweet words, soft touches and loving kisses meant something. that he was stupid enough to think they meant the same to you as to him.

as you watched his figure disappear in the distance, you realized you had fucked up big time and you weren’t sure there was any way you could fix it.

~.~.~.~

the very next day you found yourself walking as fast as your legs allowed you around the campus to find jaemin. you probably looked like you had gone crazy to everyone you walked past, hair messy and tired face. you pulled an all-nighter the night before, determined to finish your part of the project. you really weren’t that interested in your grade. actually, your only motivation was finding an excuse to talk to him.

half an hour later, you still hadn’t been able to find jaemin. you were utterly and completely frustrated, it felt like you had just wasted your time. but just as you were about to give up on your search, you found him.

he was walking down the hallway towards the opposite direction and away from you. you could only see the back of his head, but you could tell he wasn’t looking ahead but at the floor, like he had been doing ever since that day. your feet started moving on their own, directing you to him.

“jaemin, please, listen to me,” your fingers wrapped themselves around his wrist in an attempt to make him stay. he didn’t want to turn around, he didn’t want to see you or be anywhere near you.

the memory of you leaving the library after using him for your own pleasure hunted him. it may sound dramatic, but jaemin was tired of the pain you brought him. he hated the way your voice still made him feel all giddy and warm inside, he wanted to forget you for good and go on with his life as it was before.

“why should i?”

“because i want to apologize, just hear me out for a second,” you pleaded, not being able to find one good reason for him to stay.

“why would you even be sorry, anyway? you’ve never cared about others, why now and why me?” a bitter, full of hurt chuckle left his lips, eyes rolling in irony. his words felt like a punch to the stomach, the cold tone of his voice making your heart crack.

he was right, you had never cared about anyone else but yourself.

the cold-hearted behaviour jaemin witnessed in that library was what got you your infamous reputation at school; you did whatever you needed to do without looking back to see how it affected others.

that’s why it hurt so much now that you also cared about him.

“because you’re different,” you whispered, eyes closed in distress and white knuckles from how hard you were clenching your fists.

“w-what do you mean? stop playing around, i’m tired of getting hurt.”

“jaemin,” your expression softened, voice coming out in a sigh and helping him relax a little. “i’m not playing with you,” you took a deep breath before proceeding to spill your guts.

“i know i made a huge mistake acting the way i did, and when i say i’m sorry i really, truly mean it. i’m aware that the wound has already been done, but it makes my heart feel heavy to see you avoiding me. it’s selfish, i know, but i don’t want you to be away from me. i-i’m not sure what these feelings are or where they came from, the only thing i know is that i don’t want them to go away.”

what in the world was happening?

“i think i like you, na jaemin.”

“you like… m-me?” confusion was written all over his face, he couldn’t tell if you were being honest or not.

“yes, i like you, and if you’d give me a second opportunity i promise i’d make it worth it.”

and as much pain you had been causing him for the last few days, he couldn’t contain the butterflies that erupted in the pit of his stomach when he saw the sincerity your eyes held.

his body moved without him realizing, walking towards you until he could smell your sweet scent. you didn’t back down, staying still with eyes locked in his even when you were sure he could hear the crazy beating of your heart. you hoped he believed you, but even if he didn’t, you were determined to prove it to him, regardless of the price.

a surprised gasp fell from your lips when he leaned in with eyes closed, lips locking in a mind-blowing kiss. he tasted the same as last time, but the moment felt different. this kiss was less rushed, filled with strong feelings that you hoped were reciprocated.

had he accepted your apology and was willing to take you back after all you had done?

“does this mea-,” you broke away from the kiss to ask, but he cut you off quickly before going back to attack your mouth.

“i like you too,” your heart felt like it was about to explode, something you had never felt before.

your arms snaked around his neck as his hands positioned themselves on the small of your back, both trying to bring the other closer. your fingers went to his soft, fluffy hair to tug on it and jaemin groaned into your mouth.

for a moment, both of you forgot you were still in school’s grounds and anyone walking to their locker or next class could find you, but at that moment, nothing mattered.

his body felt like it was on fire, the burn almost addictive as he unconsciously pressed his hips into yours, letting you feel his growing boner. he was so into the kiss he didn’t notice at first how his body was reacting to your closeness, your scent filling his senses and plump lips moving against his. but when you responded with a roll of your hips, he gasped in surprise.

“come on, baby,” his heart pumped harder as you intertwined your fingers with his and dragged him to the teacher’s bathroom. after making sure no one was nearby, you got in and locked yourselves inside. you didn’t waste any time smashing your lips together, the kiss eventually turning rougher and full of lust.

when jaemin’s back touched the wall, he broke away from the kiss to regain his breath.

he wasn’t a resentful person, but he was determined to give you a taste of your own medicine. you were going to regret what you had done.

oh, sweet revenge.

the tables turned as he pushed you against the wall, pressing his body flush into yours. a surprised moan left your lips, hands going to his chest in a failed attempt of pushing him away and re-establishing your dominance.

“no, it’s my turn,” the new found confidence that was taking over his body made jaemin feel great. you were wordless because of the sudden change of attitude so he took the opportunity to pin both of your wrists above your head with only one of his hands and with the other, he grabbed your thigh and lifted it, holding it to his hip. with a roll of his hips, his hard cock grinded against your clothed core in such a way your legs almost buckled.

“look at you now, where did the mean girl attitude go?”

you could only moan, already feeling your damp panties stick to your folds uncomfortably, and he smirked at your lack of response. you wanted nothing more than for him to fuck you and now knew how desperate jaemin must have felt that day at the library with all your teasing.

“what do you want? tell me baby,” when you tried to free yourself from his grip, he tsked, only tightening it more. “i’m not letting you go, so stop being a brat. i asked you a question, tell me what you want.”

jaemin was enjoying every single second of having you so under his control. you had pegged him as someone who liked being dominated, but apparently you were wrong. by the looks of it, he was having the time of his life, not even caring about how long it's been since everything started, engraving in his brain every sound you made and the way your face contorted in pleasure when he pressed himself against you. he didn’t care about his reputation anymore either, after ruining you just the way you had done with him he would have had enough to make it worth it.

“i want to see you,” your hands twitched in his grip, fingers wanting nothing more than to tug on his shirt and undress him. last time you didn’t get to see him due to being in a public space, but now, locked inside the teacher’s bathroom, you could finally see him in his full glory. jaemin would normally feel shy about showing his body to someone else, especially a girl, but he couldn’t let his whole confident facade fall down, so he set you free, “unbutton it then, babygirl.”

you worked on unbuttoning his shirt as fast as you could and pussy clenched around nothing when you saw his toned abdomen and chest. he was stunning. your hands trailed down his body, caressing the soft skin, drinking in all the little details. in return, jaemin lifted yours above your chest to have easy access to your breasts. the hand that was previously holding you still now came to knead your soft boobs, groaning at the way your hips bucked against his cock.

“fuck me,” you managed to let out in a whimper.

“uhm, is that what you want?” you shook your head ‘yes’ as soon as the question came out of his mouth, eager to feel him inside once again. “then beg for it.”

you weren’t used to being the one to beg and as much as you hated following orders, you were willing to swallow your dignity if it meant he was going to touch you just how you needed.

“please, jaemin,” he shook his head, not satisfied by your response, “i’m so wet and it’s all just for you, i need you to fuck me, please” you felt your face heat up in embarrassment but you opted to ignore it. he hummed, letting go of your leg for a moment to slide your panties off your body and pull down his pants before gripping your thigh once again.

“your wish is my command,” you giggled at his cute antics, but the laughter soon got stuck in your throat when he slid his cock inside you. your eyes closed, head falling to the crook of his neck and hands gripping his biceps to hold yourself up, as jaemin groaned. you felt as tight as he could remember, but he still couldn’t get used to it. his legs trembled slightly as your walls squeezed around him, “f-fuck, still so tight.”

“move, please,” the stretch felt nice, but you needed more. and so he did as he was told, starting to slowly buck his hips into you before eventually building up a steady pace.

you felt so full with him snuggled deep inside of you, reaching places you didn’t know he could with the new position. his hips angled so he could hit your g-spot with every thrust, loud moans leaving your lips.

“if you keep being loud we’ll get caught baby,” his teeth nibbled on the skin of your neck, mouth sucking softly as to not leave marks, “or maybe that’s what you want? for someone to catch us fucking in school property?” your moans got louder so jaemin put his hand over your lips to shush you.

“uhm, that’d make so much more sense as to why you suddenly decided to risk my reputation and fuck me in the library where anybody could have seen us just with a turn of their heads.” his words came out so bluntly your eyes widened, body convulsing against his and high getting closer.

“f-faster, please, fuck me faster,” he obliged, lifting your skirt so it hung just above your waist to uncover your lower half. his hips snapped rougher than before as his thumb played with your sensitive clit, pressing harshly and circling furiously on it.

“oh my god, jaemin!” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth falling open as muffled moans fell from your lips. jaemin’s pace got sloppy as your walls clamped down on him. he was finding it hard to move, both from the strong grip of your pussy and his nearing orgasm.

“that’s it, baby, come for me,” and with a particular flick of his fingers you were cumming hard, juices running down the inside of your thighs. jaemin fucked you through your orgasm and followed soon after, thick cum filling you up nicely. heavy pants could be heard all over the room, fogging the bathroom’s mirror.

after your breathing had evened, he pulled out and dropped your leg to let you stand up comfortably. neither of you made an effort to move away from the other, eyes staying locked in the other’s, sharing a last kiss before fixing your clothes as best as you could in the shortest period of time you could manage. you were most likely already running late for class so you didn’t have time to lose.

noticing the only piece of clothing you were missing were your panties, you started searching everywhere for it. you couldn’t get caught or else you would be in big trouble. two teenagers spending a considerable amount of time locked together in the teacher’s bathroom without the supervision of any adult wouldn’t look good to anyone.

at some point you began panicking, you couldn’t just leave your underwear in there, somebody was going to find it and you both would be fucked. for real this time.

“jaemin, have you seen my pant-.”

“your what?” you hadn’t noticed the big ass smirk jaemin was carrying as he looked at you, enjoying your misery. “my panties,” but that wasn’t the only thing you noticed, you could see the pink cloth hanging from his finger.

“give them back,” you pouted cutely, making jaemin smile teasingly. “nope, now they’re mine,” he shoved the piece of clothing inside his pocket and left you to deal with his cum dripping down your legs by yourself.

“but it’s leaking, i can’t go out like this.”

you probably sounded like a whiny child throwing a tantrum, but you really needed your underwear back or else you wouldn’t be able to keep it all in.

“you can and you will, sweetie,” jaemin smirked, taking your hand in his before opening the bathroom door to leave. you didn’t want to leave like that, so you leaned your whole weight back so he wouldn’t be able to pull you with him, but he managed. with a hard tug on your hand, he forced you out of the room and into his back.

just as you were mumbling about how strong he was, a voice made you both freeze in your spots.

“did you guys just leave the teacher’s bathroom? what the heck?” donghyuck gasped, mouth agape in shock. he couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing; na jaemin and y/l y/n, school’s good boy and bad girl, walking out of the teacher’s bathroom hand in hand. jaemin’s eyes opened wide in panic. someone –or more like the worst person who could have found you– caught you in a very compromising situation. the erratic beating of his heart made his body feel numb, cheeks flushing a deep tone of red.

he noticed jaemin’s messy hair, blushing cheeks and not properly buttoned shirt as well as your untucked one and skirt way too high up your legs that revealed a fair portion of your thighs.

and then it clicked.

donghyuck’s own eyes shot open as he connected the dots.

“oh my fucking god, you fucked in there.”

–lia:)

519 notes · View notes