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avatarkv · 1 year

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IV ! Mom, am I still young? Can I dream for a few months more?

✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing. ( First | Second | Third | Fourth | Fifth )

Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 4070)

Song: Class of 2013, Mitski.

A mother’s love is of all things.

“You start from here,” Her gentle hands moved across the cloth as she showed you how to make the first stitch, her voice encouraging as she patiently talked you through every step. You listened to her instructions, your tiny fingers following every gesture, but your mind drifted off to somewhere and Neytiri was well aware of that.

"Mama, how much longer will this take?" You whined, your lips pursed in a pout as you discarded the rag. It was taking far too long for your liking and you were more than ready to be finished, but your mother's stern gaze was enough to stay put.

“Until you finally get it.” She sighed, knowing well that you wanted nothing but to run to your father and Neteyam. Neytiri could see clearly that you wanted nothing more than to train with them, learning all that Jake had to teach, and while she was relieved that you were so eager, she couldn't help but feel a little left behind.

You furrowed your brow as you looked down at the mangled fabric in front of you, feeling frustration coursing through your veins. "I don't like sewing," You sighed quietly to yourself, trying to undo the mess of stitches and start again from scratch.

A mother’s love could be quite petulant. Neytiri could feel the insecurity settling at the pits of her stomach, thinking about how his mate was doing a much better job at parenting. She was never able to keep you in one place, always wriggling uneasily on your chair and asking for the time so you can go, so she was often left with no other choice than to give into your demands and watch as you ran away from her.

It was silly, you were just a child– what child wouldn't want to be outside where the world was theirs to explore?

With another sigh, Neytiri placed a hand to your shoulder in understandment. She gave you a gentle squeeze, “You know where your father is, go on.”

A mother’s love could be fiery– burning brightly like a wildfire in her heart. It was a force that drove her to do anything she could to ensure the wellbeing of her children, even if it meant making difficult decisions that brought pain to herself.

When you once came home, battered and bruised, of course she did not relent.

“What was the only thing I asked?” She carefully tended to your wounds, despite the frustrated tears streaming down your face. With a sigh of exhaustion, she reminded you in a rough whisper, “To be careful!”

“I don’t let you run off with your father and Neteyam for you to carelessly train yourself,” She continued to scold you, “Now look at you, do you know how long these bruises will heal?” you hung your head low in shame, not wanting to meet her angry gaze. You felt guilty for making her worry and were immediately overcome with remorse.

“For this, you are not allowed to train for two weeks,” She said sternly, “Not until these heal, you understand?”

“But mama,” You tried to change her mind, but the look she gave was enough to let you know that she wasn’t going to tolerate any argument on the matter. You begrudgingly nodded your head in agreement with a frown.

“I love you, ma’ite,” When you didn’t reply, her heart sank a little. She knew you would resent her for this while the duration of your punishment stretches on, but she was only looking out for you– besides, there was no way she was going to let you train all sore. You’d understand when you’re older.

Neytiri would do anything if it means everyone would be safe.

A mother’s love is of all things, but above all, the love she had rooted from no other else but her own children.

When you once came forward with a present, she was curious. It wasn’t like you didn’t lend any gifts at all, if anything, you were the most thoughtful with giving; always coming home with trinkets from your training, colorful beads from a lazy stroll, or even rocks with the weirdest of shapes. But you were most excited with this one, a smile growing every second as you waited for Neytiri to grab the wrapped box.

“What is this?” She had her eyebrow quirked up high in curiosity, a tiny smile fighting to stay suppressed.

“Open it, come on!” You squealed, trying hard not to open it yourself.

“You made this?” She said, looking at the well-made shawl– actually, it was messy. The stitches weren’t as straight and there were holes larger than the others, a few smaller, but the ornaments sewn between the threads were no doubt from you. To her, it was the most beautiful thing ever; it was from you.

“I did!” You beamed, chest puffing out proudly, “Well.. maybe I cheated a little. Grandmother helped me, but all the beads there are from me! See those?” You excitedly gestured to each and every trinket, going with great detail into how and where you got them. She asked questions along the way, marveling at how eager you were to tell her of your adventures.

While you were keen on your work, her eyes were only on you, listening intently.

“So.. do you like it?”

Neytiri burst into a fit of giggles as she embraced you tightly, her head resting against the little space on your neck. “I love it, Ma’ite– I love you.” she whispered softly.

You returned the hug, “Does this mean I’m done with sewing?”

“Don’t push it.”

It didn’t matter whether you were with Jake most of the time– she wanted to tell him how wrong he was to tell her you were a daddy’s girl. Neytiri received a shawl from you– a shawl. It’s safe to say that maybe you loved her a bit more than Jake.

While her love was indescribable, there were no exact words for her anguish too. When Neteyam died, it was nothing but loss. No mother should have to bury their child. It weighed heavily on her– so heavy, a piece of her died along with him. Neytiri felt it in every pore of her being, a dull ache that could never be filled no matter how much time passed.

Neteyam, her first born and first loss.

The same anguish was apparent on you too and she wasn’t blind to that fact.

You were carefully tending to the different herbs on the corner of your pod. You placed them in the mortar, crushing it with a pestle between your fingers and frowning with concentration. You had asked Neytiri if you could stay behind and help with chores and while she did need an extra pair of hands, it was also an excuse to get out from training for the day.

Neytiri knelt beside you, her grip on your hand preventing you from mashing the already mashed ingredients in the bowl. She looked into your eyes with genuine concern, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “What’s troubling you, ma’ite?” She asked softly. You sighed heavily in response while setting the bowl down slowly.

When you didn't answer, she asked again. “Neteyam?” Your breathing hitched and that was all the answer she needed.

“It’s been over a month already,” You started, unable to look at her, “I don’t wanna mourn anymore. I don’t wanna cry– Tuk, she,”

“I know. I heard.” You were struck with a wave of embarrassment as you abruptly turn to face her, realizing now that you weren't as silent as you had wished that night. You shook your head, trying to push down the shame.

“I’m the eldest now and she’s tougher than me, it’s really a slap on the face.”

Neytiri sits in front of you, taking both your hands in her own. She looks at you steadily with a piercing and gentle gaze, “Have you ever thought that maybe the reason why it isn’t letting you rest is because you haven’t mourned him properly?” Unable to process her words, you look up to her with a confused expression, beckoning her to continue. “All you have ever done is cry– blame yourself for what has happened. That is not mourning, you are simply wallowing in self-pity.”

“It’s not easy,” You quickly interject, shaking your head with a hint of frustration.

“And it’s not supposed to, but you’re here trying to stop yourself from feeling.” She soothes the skin of your hands with gentle rubs, trying to calm you down. “Have you ever visited him after what had happened?”

She was met with only silence and again, it was all the answer she needed. With a heavy sigh, Neytiri gently pulls you closer to her, “Ma’ite, maybe it’s time you talk to him. You aren’t letting his soul rest either,” She whispers, “You’re making him wait.”

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, burying your head into your mother's arms. Despite feeling a little embarrassed by the sudden display of emotion, you can't deny the comfort it brings. Neytiri holds onto you tightly, as if she too needed this moment just as much as you did.

After a few more minutes, she nudges you softly, “I’m going to get more herbs,” With another kiss to your temple, she squeezed your shoulders and stood up.

Neytiri’s words hit you hard– she was right. You have never put an effort to visit your brother, let alone talk to him. The realization was like a punch in the gut; while you were trying so hard to put as much space between you, Neteyam remained waiting.

You had to talk to him, had to tell him everything before your heart could hold no more. It didn’t matter if he was angry anymore, nor if he would have blamed you for what had happened. You missed your brother– missed him like a little kid.

You stood up, taking your woven satchel– but before you could take another step out the door, Jake enters with a disheveled Lo’ak behind; it was clear that he got into a fight, the bruises on his face and body was enough to tell. “What was the one thing I asked?” Jake asks, scanning the area to check if anyone had followed them, “The one thing!”

“Look, dad. Ao’nung was picking on Kiri,” Lo’ak defends himself, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “They called her a freak.”

“And you! Where were you? Weren’t you supposed to be training?” His tone is harsh and demanding, cutting off any chance to interject. Jake turns to you, livid, “I catch you over here slacking off while this knucklehead is giving them a passage to kick us off the island– Jesus Christ, you’re the eldest now!”

“I’m sorry, sir, this is my fault.” You replied, unable to meet his gaze. “I should’ve been keeping an eye on everyone.”

“Damn right. I catch a break for one second– one second!” He continued to berate and you could only hang your head low. “You’re supposed to be like Neteyam, but ever since we got here, all you’ve done is disappoint me. You disappoint me, __.”

“But I wasn’t just slacking, I was helping with–”

“I don’t wanna hear it.” He immediately turns back to Lo'ak. He badly wanted to come to your defense, but something about Jake's steely gaze made him think twice. His lips quiver as he struggles against the urge to speak, feeling frustrated. “Go apologize to Ao’nung.”

“It’s not fair, dad! They were–”

He quickly dismisses him like he did with you, “Go make peace. I don’t know how, just go.”

Lo’ak was the first to move, his footsteps heavy as he walked out. Before you followed, you glanced one last time at Jake, trying to look for any trace of remorse in his eyes. All you found was the same stoic expression. With a sigh, you trudged behind your brother.

Once you both were far enough from your Marui, you quickly grabbed Lo’ak’s wrist, stopping him from walking further. “Stay here,”

He gave you a perplexed look as you firmly held him, “I’m supposed to be making amends.”

“I’ll do it myself so for once, stay here and just do nothing.” Your mind was clouded, absolutely heavy from your father’s words. With another frustrated sigh, you let go of him. “What were you thinking?”

“What do you mean?” His tone was laced with a mixture of guilt and defiance, shoulders tense.

“You know damn well, Lo’ak.” The laugh that erupted from your mouth is menacing– mean. You grabbed his shoulders and spun him, forcing him to look at you. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He quickly shrugs your grasp away, his gaze downcast. Lo’ak couldn’t bear to even glance at you, not when you’re looking at him like that. It was so unlike you to be angry, usually you were the most patient– understanding. Right now, your eyes held nothing but exhaustion and it was like you were a different person yourself, morphing into someone he terribly misses.

God, he misses his brother. Now that he’s gone, things are a lot worse– he didn’t even know that it was possible to feel more alone. There was no one who’d put on an effort to cheer him up despite him royally fucking up, no one to mess with his hair, or to stand up for him. With Neteyam, he was sure he understood him so well– with Neteyam, he was still a child. Lo’ak swears he also died that night, heart buried along his back at home. His younger self has not stopped crying ever since, shouting at him, asking, “It’s our fault again, is it?”

“You would have done the same,” He tries to reply with the same fierceness, but his voice is breaking. “Maybe if you were there, you would have even thrown in a punch too–”

You spun him again irritatedly, “But I’m not like you. It’s different here, you understand?” Your voice was getting louder– growing absolutely desperate with every word. “You aren’t thinking!” That stunned the both of you and you couldn’t help but feel a nauseating deja-vu the moment it left your mouth. It was familiar, oh so familiar it hurt.

“What has gotten into you?” Before he could wait for a reply, you had already stormed off, leaving him right in the open.

It wasn’t hard to find Ao’nung, being the olo’eyktan’s son made him stand out easily. They were at the shore and unlike Lo’ak, you could see how they’ve gotten the end of the punches more badly. You tried not to visibly wince at the huge deep-purple bruise forming on his face and the others littered all over his body– yikes.

You knew he deserved this. Ao’nung wasn’t the kindest ever since you had seeked uturu so you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Despite this, he didn’t relent.

“I’ll forgive you once you are able to ride an Ilu,” he said, and his friends snickered from behind, “But you still can’t, right? What would father do if he hears that none of the Sullys’ had gone out to apologize.”

You clench your fists, digging your nails into your palms as they continue to ridicule you; you wanted to retaliate with the same harshness Lo’ak had, but you knew you had to keep composure. Oh Great Mother, the urge was strong. “All I have to do is ride an Ilu?”

“Don’t bother,.” He scoffed, harshly jabbing his fingers into your chest, “You’re funny if you think that I’ll ever save you again– it would be one less freak from the clan.” Everyone broke out into a fit of loud laughter, taking turns in mocking you.

“Consider us forgiven then.” You said firmly, pushing past them and marching towards the sea.

He called for you to stay back, but you couldn’t just stop now– not when you have already mounted your ilu. The salty ocean air filled your lungs as you surveyed the horizon, the waves crashed on the rocks and it was evident that the water was fiercer. It should’ve been enough sign for you to pocket your pride and relent.

As you made the bond, you embraced the creature, trying to steady your breathing. “Just this once, please? Please, please. Save me from embarrassment.”

It was a foolish decision to act out of spite, especially after you had been trying for well over a month with no success. You knew there was little chance that this time would be any different, but the impulse drove you forward and you just couldn't let go. As the ilu surged ahead with reckless abandon, you held on more desperately than before.

You were struggling to keep the creature in check. The strong waves made it even more challenging to stay on top of the situation, but you pushed ahead determinedly with an iron grip that was sure to leave your hands sore. Suddenly, your hard work seemed to pay off as the ilu started slowing down under your control, enough that you could relax a little.

As you emerged from the water, you couldn’t help the shout escaping your throat as the other’s stood ready near their own ilus. Whether the smirk from Ao’nung’s face was of disbelief or if he had been genuinely impressed didn’t matter to you, all you could feel was a surge of pride burning through your skin. You flipped him off, peppering your ilu with much deserved kisses.

“Come on, let’s go further,” You talked to her, encouraging her to keep moving forward, where she replied with an eager yip.

You were absolutely thrilled– it had been a grueling month and the anticipation was nearly too much to bear. The thought of finally riding an ilu was almost too exciting for words. Although you preferred the forest, you’d be a big fat liar if you denied the beauty of Awa’atlu. You’ve been dying to explore– you felt like a kid again.

As you continued to ride forward, with not a thought in mind, you would not have expected to be found so easily.

It was almost night time and everyone was getting ready for dinner inside. Jake waited at the entrance of the Marui, sharpening his dagger as he waited for you. He glanced around impatiently as he tried to ignore the spiraling uneasiness in his stomach.

“It’s getting cold, ma Jake.” Neytiri called for him, rubbing his back soothingly. “Wait for her inside, she’s probably on her way home.” She had noticed how anxious he was growing as the sun started to set and the dark night began to creep closer. It was even more obvious when he hadn't moved from his spot in front for hours already, frown deepening.

“I failed as a father, Neytiri,” His voice emerged from his throat, strained and raw. He had done all he could, but it seemed that his luck had truly run out. Now that he faced the truth of his failures, he was filled with bitter regret and a deep sadness for what could have been– of what he had to lose. “I look at them and I feel like I’ve already lost everyone.”

Neytiri kneeled beside him, curling her arms around him in a comforting embrace. “You only did what you thought was best,” she whispered softly.

“And yet, I managed to make things worse.”

“Just talk to them, ma Jake,” She gave him a stern look, squeezing his shoulders, “It hasn’t been easy for them either.”

“I know that, but–” The crackling of the line made Jake wince, but he could make out his daughter's voice beneath the static from the other line, and the urgency in your voice made his body jolt– a familiar dread that brought him back to that fateful night when you desperately called out for Neteyam.

“Can someone hear me?”

The searing heat was unbearable, even when you were surrounded by nothing but water, it scorched your skin the same. The village was rising from the ashes of an unforgiving fire, the island surrounded by familiar ships. Your eyes mirrored the flames that engulfed the area and you were unable to look away— unable to move.

Your fingers frantically felt for the device tucked on your ear, pressing on its button, hoping someone would answer– pride be damned, you even hope that it would be your father.

He stood up, instinctively grabbing the gun from his side, “__? What’s wrong, baby girl? Talk to me.”

“Dad, Sir, a village!” Your voice nearly drowned out, inaudible from the deafening sound of waves thrashing towards you and your ilu. You were holding onto her for dear life as the salty water stung at your eyes, blurring your vision, “A village is on fire!”

“What? Where are you?”

Neytiri stood sharply beside him, her eyes wide with fear as she desperately tried to hear your voice from the intercom. “Jake, what’s happening? Where is she?”

“I don’t know– I don’t know! I rode my Ilu too far. Dad, there are ships! Sky-people ships, plenty!” You spoke rapidly, your words tumbling out of your mouth faster and faster as the panic built up inside of you. You were becoming increasingly anxious, with every passing second more fearful than the last. “They’re here sir, they found us.”

Jake’s heart plummeted there and then.

“They’re hurting them– they have them at gunpoint, what do I do?” You continued to hurriedly talk, explaining the severity of the situation. It was nauseatingly terrifying, a sickening sensation that had taken root in his stomach and clouded his mind with nothing but overwhelming fear. “I– I have to do something, anything! Please, tell me what to do.”

“Listen to me, listen to Sempu alright?” His voice is gravelly, like he hasn't been able to catch a breath in what feels like days. Jake was desperate as he wanted to tell you this wasn’t about you proving yourself anymore, acting on behalf of your brother’s loss. This was solely about him wanting his sweet daughter back, safe and sound. “Don’t look at them, for the love of– please, get out of there now.”

“But dad, I–”

“I need you back here, please baby girl, please.”

However, you and him did not stand on the same ground, hearts paced on different pages. All you saw were the people; their safety and well-being had to come first and foremost. You had to save them, had to do something to avert the danger. They were innocent and above all, helpless.

To Jake, all he could think was of you, his sweet daughter, caught in a wildfire.

“This is an order, __. Turn back now,” It was the only thing he could do, instill authority in hopes it would make you deter. “I’ll alert Tonowari of the situation. It’s not a good idea to barge into face-first and vulnerable, you hear me? What are you gonna do with all their guns and people? Turn back. Now.”

And it worked. Only now were you able to let out the breath you kept for so long, finally averting your gaze and looking down in shame. “I hear you, sir, I’m,” With one last look, you gulped. “I’m heading back.”

“Good. Don’t let them see you.”

As you reconnected with the Ilu, you pleaded it to take the lead and guide them both back home. You could feel her emotions racing through your veins, her fear undeniable as she witnessed others of her kind slaughtered mercilessly by the shoreline. The bond between you was overwhelming and unsteady, so much that it almost took all your energy just to keep yourself from dissociating from her.

Before you could submerge below the safety of the waters again, your ilu begins to bellow loudly in distress. Its body thrashes around, making it hard for you to hold on. “Mawey, mawey!”

More static could be heard from Jake’s intercom, the noise turning more and more deafening. He tried to make out anything from the sound, but all he could hear was white noise. You called out for him one last time, before the pager turned off.

“Jake, please, where’s my daughter?”

When Neytiri lost her eldest, she didn’t think she’d lose another one so soon.

☆ mauve here! this was such a pain in the ass to finish, so hopefully i did this chapter justice !!!! i would love to interact w everyone here, so please don't hesitate to drop by my asks! i also accept requests <3 i would very much appreciate it. lots of love!

Tags: @eywas-heir @aonungsmate @cappsikle @dearstell @minkyungseokie @wwwellacom @aleracrovn @fangzyz @bobojojoba69 @alohastitch0626 @gcldtom @dumb-fawkin-bitch @navs-bhat @jo1818 @ladylovegood-69 @kahlowy @neteyamforlife @mochiivqi @heart-an0n @strnqer @abbersreads @historygeekqueen

#mauve writes ☆#family angst #sully family x sister!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #tuk x sister!reader #angst #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #neteyam brainrot #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #jake sully #reader!sully

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castiwls · 13 days

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tolerate it - d.w

Paring; dean x reader

Prompt; 'I wait by the door like I'm just a kid'

Requested; @simonsbluee

Notes;this is my all time fav cry song. i actually wrote an anakin version as well lmao I'll post that in a min :) requests are open!

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

You stared blankly at the wall in front of you. “Sweetheart. Come on, talk to me.” Dean took a seat beside you, turning his body to face you. “This is the third time in two weeks.” You kept your gaze on the wall as you spoke.

“It’s only a few days.” He placed his hand over yours, leaning in slightly. You quickly pulled your hand back, a sharp breath leaving your lips. “It’s always only a few days.” You hissed standing from the bed. “A few days then becomes a week because oh look Sam found another case.” You leaned back on the dresser, finally facing him.

“And I just get left behind, sitting here waiting on you both like some…some child!” Dean stared at you his face passive. “What do you expect me to do? Bring you with” His gaze hardened slightly as he spoke. “You don’t have any sort of training, i’d only be putting you and us in danger!” Dean stood coming to stand before you.

“I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Keeping me trapped is your way of keeping me safe?” You shook your head. “Just go.” Dean reached out wrapping a hand around your wrist. “Don’t be like this.” He tilted his head, a small frown playing at his lips. “Like what”

“Difficult. Don’t be difficult” He snapped. You froze at his words, your blood running cold. Your head turned to face him, and a look of betrayal crossed your features for a moment before you calmed your expression. Difficult. He’d called you difficult all because you’d complained about being left.

Most of the time you felt second best. Second best to all the creatures out there that he seemed so determined to kill. You knew it was a difficult job but you’d never expected it to come first.

You could count on one hand the number of times this month alone Dean had been home for more than one day consistently. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d even been on a date with him.

“Just go.” You pulled your hand from his grip, your voice thick as you pushed back tears. You quickly left the room taking a breath to compose yourself. “We need to talk about this.” Dean’s voice followed you down the hall. He let out a huff watching as you took a seat at the map table. You grabbed a book before opening it.

You’d done this a hundred times. Dean and you would fight, you’d complain about being stuck here and then he’d promise, ‘next time sweetheart’. And then he’d go off for days with little to no contact before he’d come back mostly beaten and bruised.

You could feel him watching you as you swallowed trying to hold back your tears. Did he truly think you were that helpless, that you would be that much of a risk to even take on a hunt.

Dean quietly moved behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. Your breath hitched slightly as you felt his breath hit your ear. “I’ll make it up to you, i promise.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

You felt his weight leave your shoulders as he straightened up. The sound of his footsteps echoed as he left the room.

A shaky breath left your lips as you felt your composure break. Pressing a hand to your mouth you placed the book down finally allowing the tears to follow.

After a moment you managed to calm yourself. You glanced back down the hallway, the bunker suddenly seeming larger now that you were alone.

“You always say that.”

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pierregazly · 8 months

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tolerate it ꨄ lewis hamilton

lewis hamilton x fem!reader

warnings: age gap (no specific age, just mentioned), angst, no hea

this is just me projecting my sadness with this song onto one of the drivers, lewis being the best option. there's a chance i may do a part 2 to this eventually, but im pretty content with how it ended for now. i hope you enjoy!

It wasn’t always like this.

There was a time when you didn’t wake up, clenching your eyes closed in the hopes that it would magically change the outcome once they opened.

There was a time when you would wake up, Lewis nuzzling his chin into the space where your neck and shoulders collided, peppering the skin with little kisses in the hopes it would wake you from your slumber.

There was a time when you didn’t have to hold your breath, when your eyes didn’t have to adjust to the lack of light in the room, just to get a small glimpse of the man you loved curled up next to you.

It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment when it had all changed. Maybe it was at the beginning of the season, maybe it was before that. You couldn’t really be too sure.

Now, you were lucky to catch a glimpse of him in the morning, lucky to even get the chance to move your eyes across his ink-coloured skin beside you. You were lucky to even get a kiss goodbye in the morning before he left, the sun barely up when he was leaving to go to training, or the factory, or God knows where.

The words between the both of you were minimal nowadays, it was more like living with a roommate you saw occasionally instead of a lover that you were supposed to be sharing a life with.

There was a time when Lewis would giggle as he read the words of his books to you in whatever animated voice he could come up with. There was a time when the art he created was a joint effort between the two of you; now, it felt like all he did was tolerate you.

It was evident neither you, nor Lewis, wanted to touch on the topic. Both of you tiptoed around each other, not wanting to open the door that would push the storm in.

There isn’t much time spent at the paddock anymore, your career becoming the main focus of your priorities. You still welcomed Lewis home after every Grand Prix, his favourite dinner’s packaged in the fridge, the linens cleaned, and his clothes prepped.

A battle hero’s welcome, one could call it.

He always politely thanked you, a gentle kiss to your forehead before he made his way to the office for the remainder of the night. There was a time when he would debrief with you after every race, watching highlight videos on the television while he explained what he did wrong, what he did right, where he could improve and where he got a little too cocky. Now he just did it alone, the door of his office tightly closed, no sound emitting from the room.

Sugarcoating it to your friends and family was difficult. They understood Lewis’ career took center stage, but they couldn’t understand why he was never around when they came to your shared apartment, why it felt like his presence wasn’t even prominent in the home at all.

There was no way to explain it, without sounding naïve, without sounding like you were just letting a relationship that was drowning, pull you down with it.

Everyone suggested different reasons. The season wasn’t going in the way Lewis had hoped. Maybe his age is finally getting to him. Maybe he’s considering retirement and it’s bothering him. Maybe the age difference between the two of you is too much now.

Maybe he’s fallen out of love.

You knew the last one was a significant possibility. Lewis was a private person, but he showed his heart on his shoulder, especially at the beginning. Large declarations of love, obnoxious presents, at first, he wanted you to know that he was in love with you, constantly.

There isn’t a time in the last four months that you can remember where Lewis demonstrated his love for you, quick ‘love you’s’ before the door slammed behind him, a random heart in the middle of the night when he’s halfway across the world; even those had slowly stopped.

Nowadays he would hum silently when you told him you loved him, he would send a heart back if you sent one to him. He didn’t initiate anything, it just simply felt like he was tolerating it when you expressed your love for him.

It wasn’t hard to remember the times when Lewis would tell you how much he loved you, how he would show it.

He would curl up behind you in bed, the unmade sheets wrapped lazily around the two of you as he groaned into your neck, his hands resting around your middle as he eagerly cuddled up to you.

You could always feel him mumbling words into your neck, but he would never tell you what he was saying. Lewis would just smile and press a tiny kiss to your lips, the kiss heating up as time went on, your bodies moving in sync as he demonstrated his love for you in every way he knew how.

You weren’t a self-conscious person, you knew you had plenty to offer when it came to your relationship, and when it came to life in itself. You knew your love should be celebrated, celebrated in the way that Lewis used to celebrate it, the way he used to giggle as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, gently swaying to the music coming from his phone as you cooked together.

You tried to push the negative thoughts away, the thoughts of leaving, of packing up your bags and leaving in the middle of the weekend while he was away. You considered it, time and time again. The suitcases staring at you from the closet, telling you to open them, pack them, and leave.

Every weekend the temptation grew stronger and stronger. The urge to walk away, to preserve your dignity, sat heavy on your shoulders.

Every time when you thought you had decided, thought you had made the decision to pull the dagger out and walk away; an invisible force pulled you back. Told you that the season was slowly coming to its end, that the old Lewis would come back to you when the season was up, he was just stressed out and things were hard.

He never talked about his problems with you. He would debrief with you, sure. He would tell you about the problems in the race, but he would never tell you about his internal problems.

It’s how you constantly justified his behaviour, and his actions... or lack thereof.

Your mind always went back to those thoughts when you considered leaving. It always made you think about the fact that he was probably struggling, that he just wasn’t able to talk to you about it and that you leaving would probably make things worse.

It was the invisible but obvious force, that, you knew.

Lewis didn’t know about these thoughts. At least he never showed that he knew. The bags were always tucked away in the back of the closet when he returned home, like they were never sitting in front of the open door. Everything was back in their rightful place, as if the thought of leaving had never crossed your mind.

One of your favourite moments with him happened just before the beginning of the season. You were cuddled up on the couch, the remnants of a ‘Game of Thrones’ episode playing on the television, Lewis’ hand gently creating shapes on the visible skin of your back.

“Do you ever feel like you’re too old, or like... too wise for me? Like someone closer to your age would be better?”

You felt him huff against your neck, a small laugh falling from his lips before he pressed a kiss to the spot his lips were before shaking his head.

“Are you calling me old, my love?”

Immediately shaking your head with a tiny laugh, you slapped his chest with a gleam in your eyes. “You know what I meant, Lew...”

Rolling you over, he leaned over you as he pushed a lock of his own unruly hair behind his ear. “I rarely think about the fact you’re younger than me. It doesn’t affect the way in which I love you, half the time I forget that you’re younger than me. I definitely don’t think I’m wiser, that’s for sure. It’s pretty obvious who has all the wisdom between the two of us.”

The night ended with you below him, the sheets rustling, as if all the love he had for you could be encaptured in the way his eyes connected with yours. You had never felt that kind of raw love before, had never felt like everything you had done had led to that exact moment.

Trying to convince yourself that everything happening now was all in your mind was easy. The comments that your friends made, that maybe he didn’t love you anymore; was easy enough to ignore when you considered the fact that he did still reply to your messages, that he still came home every Sunday, that he still sometimes pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving in the morning.

But then sometimes you let your mind reel, and reel, and reel. Lewis was there, but was he really there?

The conversation almost happened, after Spa. Lewis was exhausted coming into your shared apartment, his bags dropping down at the front door. You were wrapped up in one of his Mercedes sweaters, his racing number engraved on the sleeves; even if he was there physically and not mentally, you had still made him your everything, you had made him your mural, had dedicated the sky to him.

The pictures on the walls still showed a love between the two of you that wasn’t obvious anymore. The picture of you wrapped around him after the end of the 2020 season. The pictures of the both of you cuddled around each other at his family Christmas, the collage of his nephews wrapped in your arms. There were hundreds of photos that showed how life used to be.

Your mind came back to the present when Lewis crossed the path in front of you.

Like always, he went to press a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, the exhaustion prevalent on his face. As he was walking towards his office, you felt the words bubble out of your mouth before you could control them.

“Did you want to watch this with me? I feel like we haven’t really spent much time together lately.”

The words stopped him in his tracks, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head as his body turned in your direction. It felt like his face was mocking you with its fake sympathy as he gently shook his head, his curls moving with the direction.

“I’m just too tired. I have to go watch highlights in my office. Maybe later.”

It was always ‘maybe later’, or ‘maybe tomorrow’, or ‘I’m sorry we can’t celebrate our anniversary this year, I just don’t have time this weekend, maybe next weekend’.

It felt like you were begging him for a spot in his life, like you were an inconvenience that he didn’t want to put the effort into anymore. By now, you weren’t even begging for a line in the story, but a line in the footnotes of his life. A minuscule part, something that he couldn’t even try to give you.

Lewis made it clear he felt bad after he bailed on your anniversary. He spent hundreds of dollars on you, basically begging you for forgiveness and emphasizing things would be different soon, he promised.

He was right, things were different. Not in a good way. Maybe that was the point when things really started going downhill. It was still hard to pinpoint it.

Making yourself scarce when Lewis was home was easy. Your friends were always looking for you to go for lunch, or dinner, or out for drinks. Spending your time at work was always an easy escape, allowing the never-ending flow of work to occupy your thoughts as you went above and beyond.

If Lewis noticed that you were avoiding him, avoiding your home; he didn’t say anything. He never said anything.

Spending the weekends at home was therapeutic, your arms wrapped in another one of Lewis’ oversized sweaters. The smell of his cologne wafting up your noise as you pressed the sleeve to your face, the unshed tears refusing to leave your eyes. You wouldn’t cry, not again.

You knew you would cry, again. You always let the tears fall when you scrolled back up in your conversation with Lewis to when things first started, when he was animated, when he overshared, when he sent you photos of George, of Mick, when he forwarded you along videos of Roscoe when Roscoe was away with him.

Back when your love was celebrated, when it didn’t feel like Lewis was just tolerating it, tolerating you, tolerating your love.

Jealousy reared its ugly head every weekend as well. Whenever you saw an Instagram story, or a twitter post, whenever you saw that Lewis was out with his friends, or his team, or his crew. You knew it wasn’t fair to be jealous, that it wasn’t fair to compare yourself to the people that Lewis spent 5/7 days a week with, that it was hard for him to say ‘no’ to them.

It didn’t change how much it hurt, how much it made your heart ache to know that you truly were something that could be put on the backburner. He was always out building other worlds, but where were you?

Where were you every time he was out with his friends after a race? Where were you every time he was celebrating a win, or celebrating a pole in qualifying? Where were you every time he went live on Instagram?

Where was his love for you when you sat looking at the suitcases in the closet, again?

Gone.

It was time to accept the truth, that his love for you was gone. That he didn’t celebrate his love for you like he once did, that he didn’t celebrate you, like he once did.

He tolerated it, and he tolerated you. Tolerating something and celebrating it were too obviously different things. It had never been more evident.

The bags didn’t stare at you anymore as they laid open on the bedroom floor, your clothes finding themselves folded and inside each of them, your portion of the closet emptying out as the bags grew heavier and heavier. The bags under your eyes growing darker alongside them.

You couldn’t leave without saying anything to him, couldn’t allow him to come home to an empty home. It was obvious he didn’t deserve an explanation, and you didn’t plan on giving him one. But he deserved a goodbye.

It was clear the presence of the suitcases registered in Lewis’ mind the moment his eyes found them as the front door closed. He immediately looked at you, the most emotion you’d seen in months shining in his eyes.

“What’s going on?”

The shake in his hands was visible as he asked the question, his own bags falling gently beside your own as he stared at you.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t beg for a place in your life anymore, Lew. I’m sorry.”

The resignation was evident in his eyes, but there was no fight in them as he sat on the couch opposite you. It almost hurt to know that he wasn’t going to argue, wasn’t going to ask you to stay, to not break free and leave the both of you in ruins. It almost hurt, but you knew it would be the case.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t try to stop you as you went towards your bags, he didn’t look up from his ink-stained hands as the click of the lock sounded. He didn’t try to say anything more as the suitcases rolled out the door.

You didn’t see the tears gather in his eyes and then fall down his cheeks as the door closed behind you, the longing on his face as he debated with himself internally if he should run after you. Beg you to stay. It was so plain to see now, you were younger, and wiser, and he didn’t deserve you anymore.

Lewis knew the truth. You deserved someone who would celebrate you, celebrate your love. Not someone who could only tolerate it when their own life was falling apart. He didn’t deserve you, not anymore.

i really hope you guys liked this!! im really not too sure if i'll make a part 2, but if there's a lot of demand for one i will. thank you for all the love. also i read this like 4 times so if there's any mistakes im sorry lol

tag list

@iloveyou3000morgan @leclercdream @myescapefromthislife

(if you're interested in being added to my taglist for all my works please reach out! i didnt tag anyone who only requested to be tagged for specific parts of my other work!

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fic #taylor swift trope #formula 1 #f1 #lewis hamilton x female reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 imagine

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calmcoldevening · 6 months

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Do you write eric draven hc’s?

Eric Draven x reader, headcannons

Anyway, I finally got to this movie and watched it! Honestly? It was great. I really love such old atmospheric horror movies, just omg. So now I will try to state all my thoughts on this. I apologize in advance for the mistakes, English is not my native language.

• Eric is a very romantic person. Each of your dates would be thought out to the smallest detail, literally. If it's a night out at home, you could sit in his arms while he played one of his songs on the guitar. Or you could watch a movie in the living room, the choice, of course, would be yours. The lights are dimmed, and there are a lot of burning red and pink candles around; the air is filled with the pleasant aroma of roses that Eric gave you this morning; and the sofa around you is full of your favorite sweets and snacks.

• Talking about details, Eric would remember a lot of little things about his partner. I mean, starting from just the zodiac sign and ending with your favorite nail polish color. This person would be good at remembering different dates and, in principle, would treat you with tenderness.

• In his eyes, you are a fragile crystal that can crack at any moment from any inaccurate touch. Therefore, he values him very much, and sometimes literally takes care of him. The main thing is not to be angry with him for this, the boy just has a little trust problems, and he loves you so much.

• Eric is very caring and gentle. You can play with his hair, and then he will give you a relaxing massage if you had a hard day at school or work. He has really strong and skillful hands, it's not for nothing that he is a guitarist. These fingers can do a lot.

• You are always in safe. Literally. His raven follows you everywhere to help you if anything happens. Eric could not forgive himself for the death of another person dear to him.

• It might have been difficult for Eric to open up to you at the very beginning. He has survived a lot, and now he is literally immortal. But his heart is lonely and broken. Before his death, he saw such a horror that happened to his beloved, and now his existence is filled with gray colors. And then you show up. Like a ray of light in his dark life. And his heart seems to start beating again, and his brain is wildly babbling something about how soft your hair looks to the touch and how cute you smiled at that salesman in the store.

• There may be little aggression issue, but he will never hurt you, under any circumstances. He'll just mumble something under your nose and get mad at himself. Or he will go to the roof to play the guitar and calm down. But he will never hurt you. He will not let some little things separate you, destroy your trust. Therefore, he will smooth out all sorts of conflicts.

• During quarrels, he always tries to just talk to you. It's better to calmly hear each other's opinions and later just make your relationship even better, right?

• Constantly compliments you. He loves your eyes and your smell, so Eric can lie on your lap or on your chest for hours and cuddle while you gently touch his hair.

• Quite an active and emotional guy, so you will never get bored with him.

• Eric has a rather acute sense of justice, so he will not tolerate injustice towards you. Especially from yourself. If you have any complexes, the guy will try to prove to you that you are beautiful, absolutely and in everything.

• But he is not only gentle and caring, but also quite teasing. He likes to make you blush and look away in embarrassment. He likes to make you feel special. Because you're his treasure.

#slashers x reader #the crow #the crow x reader #eric draven #eric draven x reader #eric draven x you #the crow x you #the crow headcanons #eric draven headcanons

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loveemagicpeace · 1 year

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🌶️Mars & Venus Combination🌶️

💘Mars in Scoprio & Venus in Virgo-hardcore lover. You can be picky in love, but when you find someone, you stick with that person and you do everything for them. Many times these people have a stable approach to love and to the person they are with. Your reactions are thoughtful. They often give deep but practical love. Many times I notice that they write songs for this person. They really try hard and are faithful in love. These people do not tolerate cheating. They have many standards and conditions in relationships.

🧚🏼‍♀️Mars in Virgo & Venus in Libra- These people often idealize love and have a more serious approach to it. Many times you can fall in love quickly but in the end you weigh whether this person is right and whether you really care about them or is it just a phase. When they really love someone, they will invest a lot in the relationship. Many times their reactions are analytical and rational. Many times they know how to solve a problem or give you good advice. They like to follow some sort of routine and lifestyle.

🌱Mars in Aquarius & Venus in Scorpio-both signs are fixed, which means that these people have a serious approach to love and want stability. The person is deep and has a mysterious approach to love, but at the same time person can also be possessive. However, you may feel that you need freedom with a person, that you don't want to be only with that person 24/7. You like to be in a relationship that is serious and stable but at the same time includes freedom. These people hide their love for a long time. And many times they approach someone very spontaneously.

🎢Mars in Aries & Venus in Aquarius-these people are pretty chill when it comes to love. Many times it is difficult for them to get attached to one person. They can change partners quickly and their energy is quite spontaneous. Until they find a person who really suits them, they will not be serious and will not know how to keep a person or be in a relationship. They really like to hang out with their friends and many times they also include them in the relationship. They will always drag their partner along wherever they go. They want their partner to be included in the company of others and to get along with their friends.

💗Mars in Pisces & Venus in Capricorn- many times these people are attached to people who are more emotional or practical. You want a person with whom you can share things in common and with whom you can feel stable. Many times you may be attracted to people who have enhanced bones. At the same time, you can often idealize people and love.They may be attracted to business people or people who look more official. And I often notice that they like older people. They are always very attentive to you and will take care of you (they will take you home, make you tea, make you lunch). They put effort into love.

🦋Mars in Sagittarius & Venus in Sagittarius -a fiery person who can also be impulsive. In love, you want to have someone who will have your own vibe and lively energy. Someone who will want to see the world with you. You appreciate people who have their own opinions and views. These people are often full of wisdom and can teach you a lot. They live for moments and the soul of the world. They like places that are spiritual and also places by the ocean. They know how to be independent and their energy is always positive for others and they can quickly put others in a good mood. They like extra stuff. They love to create and learn new things. Passion means a lot to them in a relationship .Also they like to have a relationship that is lively and also makeup sex.

🍒Mars in Leo & Venus in Leo -ego and pride can accompany these people many times. Many times their reactions are from the side of the ego. When they love someone, they fight for them and persevere. They will do a lot for the person they love. When they really love someone and they mean a lot to them, they have a different approach to them and I think a lot of times their ego gives way. They are lively and like challenges. This also stimulates their passion and desires. When you like someone, you seek to impress them with your power. They usually have an interesting singing tactic, by showing that they have a lot of people with them and with that they can quickly distract a lot of people around them. They love sport or doing things relate to that. They can be dramatic and like their relationship to be fiery at times. They like attention from the person they love.

💕Mars in Aries & Venus in Taurus- You tend to make quick decisions, but you are a lot more steady–and even deliberate–than you appear. You are very competitive, even if you don't always show it. Although you value long-term, secure relationships. Your desires are considerable. You love to share food with person u love and you always invite a person on luxurious dates. You want the best for the person and appreciate their love. Music is important to you and you like to share it. You’re one of those people who always seem to know exactly what they look like from the outside. You make people feel calm in your presence because you tend to have a relaxed and natural charm. What you will never forgive, in any romantic partner, are those who make you feel less important or unique than you know you deserve to feel.

-Rebekah🍓🥐

#astrology #energy #zodiac signs #planets #my notes #astrology observations #mars #venus #mars and venus #passion #love #relationship

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sweetheartturtle2007 · 6 months

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Hello! I live your Bunnymund works amd my request is basicaly the second part of one of them if i'm honest. May i request headcanons of how is it to be the spirit of kindness and being in a relationship with Bunnymund, pls? Like, is he attentive? Does he have a habit that could be changed for the better of the relationship? There's any habit he's not dispous to tolerate frome his partner? How does he show affection? PDA or No PDA? Anyway the questions are just to help you inspire you, you do as you wish, just headcanons of being Bunny's partner. Bye.

Sure thing sweet cake !~ 🎂🩷

Fluffy boy loves hugs (in private obviously), he's into light pda when in public, example: holding hands, putting his arm around your waist or shoulders.

Like I said in previous headcanons, egg painting dates are regular, no if's or but's, he loves having someone to talk to and help him prepare the lil ones for next Easter.

A habit he's not accepting from his partner is that they're mean to his friends, he has spent A LONG WHILE with them, so he's not accepting you hurting any of his friends feelings.

I headcanon that he uses lil glasses for reading or when he has a difficult time doing decorations on eggs.

Also he loves taking care of his partner, if their having a bad day, a headache,etc, he's always there to make sure you feel love.

Star gazing ! Star gazing ! You both lay outside the warren and spend almost all night talking to each other.

He's up to helping you with whatever duty you have.

He shows affection through words, most especially nicknames, example: sweetheart, darling, doll/dolly,etc.

He loves your kindness and lives for it, you make his heart go Doki Doki 💗☺️

You have scary dog privilege, whenever someone is talking to you, depending on who it is, he will stay behind you/by your side.

One time jack wanted to flirt with you just to piss bunny off, but he was already behind you giving jack one of his most scary glares.

He protects you at all cost, he knows you can fight for yourself but he's still obviously worried about your safety.

He'll make breakfast for you, (he loves cooking, argue with the wall)

He's a simp

Before going to bed he likes either reading or humming a song to you.

He's the type of getting you behind his back whenever he feels a threat in a situation.

Making flower crowns together

He loves caressing your hair with his fingers when you sleep.

He's the best boyfriend 🩷😚, hope you liked this headcanon my darling!💗 Feel free to request more ! 💖😽

#requests #top trends #bunnymund x reader #rotg bunnymund #e. aster bunnymund #bunnymund #rotg north #rotg tooth #rotg jack frost #rotg fanart #rotg #rotg bunny #request open #trend #trendy

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amiavy · 1 month

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૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ first post!!!

Heartworm [oneshot]

✭ Scaramouche x Reader

ׂ╰┈➤ modern au / they’re in high school / idiots in love!! / fluff / light angst at the end i think!? / childhood friends / fem reader / no use of y/n

.ೃ࿐ synopsis ; you feel you and Scara’s relationship growing more distant as you enter your first year of high school. you start to feel unsure about your feelings 😱.

3,738 words

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help idk how to make posts on tumblr,, i originally posted this on ao3 but decided i also wanna start a blog so. i hope u enjoy :3 ੈ✩‧₊˚

btw he’s,,, called kunikuzushi bc i like it!

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High school is difficult. Especially your first year. It’s a completely new environment, filled with a bunch of people who always feel bigger than you. And considering the meek person you are, it’s no understatement to say that you mostly avoid getting involved with anything too big or too extravagant. You were okay with sitting alone outside in a more secluded place, eating lunch whole listening to music.

The solitude was nice. Feeling the crisp air brush along your skin was refreshing, and definitely needed after getting through crowded hallways and crammed staircases. During these small moments, you mostly felt okay with yourself.

But sometimes, it was too quiet, even for you. The elongated silences were getting uncomfortable. You just needed to be able to speak at times, to talk with someone— just like the two friends at the table beside yours would do everyday.

Occasionally, there would be some groups of kids who would come over, but that wasn’t the break of silence you needed. And yes, maybe sometimes a classmate or stranger would come over, talk for a while, but that wasn’t it either.

You did make some friends, but they were… weren’t, well... You cherished and appreciated them, but—

There was just someone in your life that you didn’t quite feel fulfilled without. And of course, who else would it be but your dear friend Kunikuzushi? Although you still went to school together in the morning most days, it was so fleeting. After that, you barely saw each other during the day.

Unfortunately, you had no classes or even lunch together. And the only after school activity you both joined was Arts Council, which happened once a week, on Wednesdays.

Wait,— today is Wednesday!

Today, you’d get to see him! Finally, after barely being able to spend any time together, you could indulge yourself in some well deserved company.

Thinking of all the topics you could tell him about, you smile to yourself and happily eat your food. You thought of talking about what happened during your week so far, and to ask him about his.

There was a prominent question you wanted to ask him, too. Did he make any other friends?

Other than you, everyone saw him as rather disagreeable— and they weren’t wrong for that! He was snarky, sarcastic, and didn’t like to talk unless necessary. Thus, it made sense for you and him to be sticking together throughout basically your entire youth. After all, the only person willing to be near him is you.

You’re able to see him as someone more than just his spiteful remarks, and so he allowed you to follow him for being “at least tolerable,” as Kunikuzushi said himself.

Being so caught up in your thoughts about him, you were pulled back to reality once you realized that the one song which reminded you of him the most began playing.

The feeling tugs a small, but sweet smile over your lips, which remained while you got yourself ready to head back to class.

Class is as boring as ever. And yet, it’s fairly different from middle school, when you used to sit beside Scaramouche at the back of the class. You remember how fun it was to make small doodles on his notebook in class while he wasn’t looking. Oh well, at least it’s last period, and you’d get to see him soon!

Soon, the bell rang, waking you up as last period ended. You were suddenly much more awake once you recall it was time for Arts Council. With excitement, you quickly pack up and make your way to the club’s room.

Many other members were already walking inside and finding seats, while you wait beside the door for Kunikuzushi.

For some reason, your heart begins pounding. Your stomach feels like it’s all in knots while you think of him. Like you were scared? Nervous? Excited? For… what?

“Hey,” A voice suddenly calls out to you. You exclaim a small wince when you feel your forehead get flicked.

“Wha—“ You were about to speak, until you realize who you were looking up at. It was Kunikuzushi. Your eyes widen slightly, and you could hear yourself stammer just a bit.

He raises an eyebrow at you, seeing how startled you were. “You’re so odd.” He simply says, brushing past you as he went inside. He looks back at you once, gesturing for you to come in as well.

You also look back at him and nod, before looking back a second time. Promptly, you followed and took a seat beside him, moving the stool a bit closer. He lightly scoffs, which makes you giggle. His attitude was always so silly.

You then turn to him, about to say something to start some conversation. However, you see two other figures approach the table, greeting Scaramouche while you direct your attention to them.

You look at the two curiously; a fair man with ashen hair and teal eyes, holding a neutral expression. His name was Albedo, who you knew from your science class. He was smart and humble, though not very social. The other boy had dark teal hair which matched his solemn expression, an amber colour accentuating his cat-like eyes. Even though you didn’t know him, he seemed to have similar energy to Albedo.

After they said hello to Scaramouche, to which he responded with a quiet hum, they both look to you. Surprisingly, Albedo greets you with your name. You didn’t expect him to know you, since he always seemed much more absorbed in his own work.

Albedo then spoke again, “Hm, so you and Scaramouche are…”

“She’s my friend,” Scaramouche answers sternly, a small sigh escaping his mouth.

Albedo nods, looking at Scaramouche with a slightly surprised expression. Once you agree, he nods once more and introduces you to Xiao, who wouldn’t say more than a greeting.

Albedo decided to sit in front of you, with Xiao quietly taking the seat beside him. Before any more words could be said, the club’s supervisor teacher comes in and began discussing today’s activities.

Valentine’s Day was soon approaching, and the council chose to prepare a cute, small photo booth. You volunteered to paint the booth’s background, to which Scaramouche agreed to help out with. Albedo and Xiao had already left the room to paint a school mural.

Everyone got to work promptly— you quickly gather the materials while Scaramouche brings over the large canvas paper, setting it over the table. He sat down once it was placed, watching as you walk over with various painting supplies.

With a sigh, he walks over to you, taking a few of the supplies from your arms.

“You looked like you were going to drop everything. Slow as ever, too.” He remarks, turning as he makes his way back to the table. You just smile, following him as you set the rest of the materials out.

“How about we do some sort of sunset? Then we can ask for some paper hearts to frame around it,” You suggest, Scaramouche shrugging in response. “That sounds fine with me, whatever you want.”

After discussing it a bit more, with Scaramouche mostly just giving passive responses and small comments, the two of you begin sketching it out. It was a rather plain sketch with not much going on since it was just a background focused on the colour and scenery.

And yet, even during such a simple task, you couldn’t help but get distracted, your eyes constantly flicking up from the paper to look at him.

Even with your unfocused attitude, the two of you got the sketch done quickly, and began painting. Your eyes were guided by the way your soft brush strokes worked in harmony with his, flowing against the blank canvas to shape colour and unity between your two brushes.

At first, the two of you continue to work in relative silence, until you finally speak, “So, how’s your week been so far?” You ask, looking up at him briefly. In that moment, he looks up at you as well, though his eyes swiftly shy away.

“It’s been the same as ever. Just some boring classes.” Scaramouche says plainly, not looking up again. You knew it was a typical response, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit upset when he said it was “the same as ever”. You wait to hear him say more— to say that he missed you, too. But you knew him, and you knew it was far too uncharacteristic.

You simply hum, nodding your head in acknowledgement. It was silent for a bit more as you both continued painting.

“…Aren’t you going to tell me about yours?” He speaks up, his authoritative voice grabbing your attention. He looks like he was forcing himself to face you as he rests his elbows on the table.

Heat burns onto your cheeks as his eyes focus onto your own.

“Ah, right,” You stammer quickly, blinking a few times. Why did it suddenly feel so tense? After years of knowing each other, you should be comfortable more than anything, right?

“It’s been… okay, I guess.” You say, “I enjoy eating lunch alone. But you’d be an exception, of course,” You laugh, sounding like you were joking, but you weren’t.

He lets out a scoffed laugh, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Obviously,” He says confidently. He then resumes his painting, looking up at you once as a signal to continue talking.

“I think I’m kinda just making acquaintances, not really friends, or something, you know?” You continue, trying to think of the right words. “I like the people I meet, but I dunno if I’d call them my friends. Maybe my definition of a ‘friend’ is a bit confusing, I guess.”

“Well, is it a bad thing?” Scaramouche asks in a smooth tone, yet mumbling a bit. He looks up at you curiously before his eyes scurry away once again.

You think about it for a moment before reluctantly shaking your head. “No, it’s alright actually. My mind’s been acting kind so it’s peaceful.” You say with a laugh, still just watching as he painted.

Scaramouche nods again. He was surprised and confused as to why he found himself somewhat glad. “Do you just plan on slacking?” He questions, giving you a teasing smile as he remarks on you simply sitting and watching him.

You frown, promptly standing up and starting to paint again. “Of course not!” You exclaim. However, some club members had already began leaving by now, so you thought about leaving soon as well.

The two of you talk a bit more about classes and work, occasionally bickering until you deice it was time to leave. After you clean up and say goodbye to everyone else, Scaramouche follows you to your locker.

He stands closely behind as you put back and grab things from your locker. Although you couldn’t see him from behind, you could feel his fixed gaze on you. His eyes scrunch slightly every time you accidentally graze your arm against his while sorting things out, but he stays silent.

Scaramouche takes a look at your decorated locker, small stickers, random decor,— and a picture of you two. He eyes it for a moment until you get up.

You opted to close the door, until he swiftly places his hand atop yours and stops you. A smug smile was evident on his face when you turned to question him.

“I didn’t know you put this up,” He asserts teasingly. It made your heart beat faster once again as you try to calm down.

“Isn’t it cute?” You ask, shrugging it off and acting unaffected. “I’m not sure about that.” He chuckles.

“But don’t take it down. That’s not what I’m trying to say.” Scaramouche says in a light tone, though clearly meaning his command.

He then closes the door, taking his hand off of yours as you put the lock back on, chasing him as he already began walking off. With a heart beating like crazy, you made your way to his side, walking to the exit together.

“Going straight home?” You ask. He hums in response, looking straight ahead.

The two of you walk through the empty corridor, not saying much. You didn’t have too much to talk about, especially after years of knowing each other. Usually, the silence would be comfortable.

And yet, it feels weirdly tense.

Every time your shoulders bumped, you can’t help but look up at him and want to see his expression. Looking at him felt different nowadays.

You try to feign ignorance to the cold, despite your mild shivering. It was early February, after all. Grass is covered in frost, and you could feel the cold air starting to nip at your face and hands. Small clouds appear at your mouth as hot breath escapes your lips, matching the sight of chimneys on houses you walk by.

Scaramouche was looking ethereal as always. His austere, cold eyes were accentuated by the season’s cool tones, additionally contrasted by the warm hue of blush on his pretty, pale cheeks which was perfectly framed by his indigo hair.

You quickly look away, placing your eyes on the snow falling instead.

After a breath, you speak, “I love the snow. It’s sooo pretty,” You happily say, “It’s really cold, but melts like magic when you touch it.”

“I know. Because it comes in contact with your warmth.” Scaramouche replies, turning his head to look at you while you watch the snowflakes. You laugh a bit at his stoic response.

There was a small pause.

You then grab onto his arm, pulling him forwards with you. “Come on, let’s stop by at the park for a bit!” You exclaim, taking him off guard. “Why would we do that—?!” He blurts, nearly falling over as you took him by surprise.

“‘Cause we haven’t seen each other often,” You tell him honestly, your voice quieting down as you lead him.

You make sure not to look at him while you spoke, so that he won’t see how much you meant those words.

“…Fine.” Scaramouche sighs, following you over to the park. It was close to your house, so the two of you used to go quite often. Or rather, you’d drag him along with you. Especially when you were kids. He’d never admit it, but he truly did enjoy going with you.

To just simply be together and forget about everything bad was heavenly— and he’s just obsessed with how you treated him.

…Not that’d he’d tell you that, of course. And obviously, he wouldn’t tell you how glad he was that you proposed to hang out for a bit. And how happy it made him when the two of you spent time alone during Arts Council.

No, he just couldn’t. Not when he was face-to-face with the risk of losing you.

Scaramouche was quickly cut out of his thoughts when you dragged him over to the swings, swiftly brushing the snow off the seats and getting on. You invite him to join you once you patted the snow off the other swing, looking at him expectantly.

He complies, sitting down as his hands loosely grasp the swing’s chains. He lightly sways, though not putting enough force to fully swing himself like you.

Scaramouche looks up at the snowy sky— or, pretends to look at the sky when he was really just staring at you each time the swing brought you high enough into his view.

He softly bit the inside of his lip, a sign of uncertainty as to whether or not he should say something.

Maybe even something about… how his chest kept feeling heavier. Suffocating, in a way. Especially when he looked at you.

At your features that were absolute perfection in his eyes. At your smile which never failed to warm him. At your starry eyes that made his breath get caught in his throat whenever they looked back at his.

“Why don’t you swing yourself?” You speak up, finally looking at him. The thought never really crossed his mind— after all, it was just pushing yourself back at forth.

“I happen to like it here. You know, swinging yourself like this is just as enjoyable.” Scaramouche says, sounding as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You hum, shrugging your shoulders. You didn’t really agree, but he was always an eccentric person. You continue to swing yourself, a small smile of amusement on your face.

Scaramouche naturally noticed it, and it caused a pleased smile to emerge on his lips as well. “Besides, you look quite foolish just going back and forth.” He mocks, sounding entertained by how idiotic he made you out to be.

You heave, frowning at him. “I do not. It’s fun. And you’re a bore,” You insult him back.

“Oh, I’m a bore?” He scoffs, raising an eyebrow. “That’s too bad. Because it seems like you’re always stuck with me.” He laughs.

“Unless you uncharacteristically run away now. Apparently even though I’m boring, you never choose to do so.” Scaramouche finishes teasingly, grinning.

You furrow your brows, glaring at him. Your cheeks heat up because you knew he was right— and it was frustrating!

“That’s ‘cause I’d feel bad seeing you alone!” You exclaim, just thinking of anything to rebut his statements.

He then grabs the chain of your swing, frowning irritably. His sudden motion caused your swing to move with uncertainty, making you hold on tightly until it finally stopped.

“Stop that!” You utter, playfully hitting his arm.

The two of you continue to bicker for a bit as usual, every so often talking about recent events and how school has been treating you. You liked having insight onto his life. And he liked having lots on yours.

You eventually slow down on the swing, resorting to weakly swaying just like Scaramouche as you continued to chat.

“How about Xiao and Albedo? Are you friends with them?” You ask, continuing the conversation.

“Mmm. I don’t know what you would consider a friend. But I guess I consider them acquaintances.” Scaramouche shrugs, not putting much thought into the other two boys.

“I just talk to them in class sometimes, when the teacher forces us to ‘discuss in small groups’.” He notes, rolling his eyes as he recalls his teacher’s ways.

“But, uh—…” Scaramouche starts to stutter, looking down as he seemed to consider his words. He sighed again.

He then brought his head up, turning to face you. “So, you and Albedo knew each other?” He breathlessly asks, his expression rigid.

His sudden behaviour took you a bit off guard. He always seemed so stern and sure of his words.

“Yeah, somewhat?— Well, not really, actually.” You stammered, thinking as you spoke. “We’re just in the same science class. He seems to like his work more than people, so…”

Scaramouche nods, his face relaxing. He looks back up at the falling snow, which had accumulated on the ground much more.

The air was much colder now that time had passed with the two of you just talking. The sky dimmed into a cool blue, signalling evening’s approaching.

There was a comfortable silence between you two. Well, you tried to think it was comfortable. Honestly, you were battling your feelings with every bit of your rationality left.

You tried so hard to tell yourself that you were okay with being friends. Friends. And nothing more. But after so long, you knew that all you wanted was more.

For Scaramouche, it was the same. All he wants is to keep you by his side forever. From childhood until eternity, you are what he wants. But not just like this.

If he had to shamefully admit it… He wanted you like the cheesy couples you occasionally watched during your many movie nights.

He hated the thought of how vulnerable you made him. How you could so easily make him weak. If you just asked, he would love you so ardently, more than anyone could.

You were both plagued by these thoughts, and you both knew you had to do something. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, and the silence that filled the space around you two, which you tried to think was comfortable, was really just full of tension and thickening air.

“Scaramouche,” you grabbed his attention, making him face you, “I’m really glad we got some time to ourselves today.” You say, your voice soft yet a bit hesitant.

Scaramouche let out a heavy breath as his mind seemed to conflict when he stared back at you. “…I am too.” He unusually confesses.

There was another pause between you two.

“I hope we’ll have lots more times like this. I… really do miss being near you all the time. It’s different.” Your words made Scaramouche’s eyes widen slightly. There was a pounding in his chest, making him clutch the swing’s chains a bit tighter.

His lips trembled a bit before responding, “We will. Don’t worry. There’s lots of time for us.” He says sternly. “If our schedules become so packed that they keep us away, then I’ll take care of it.”

There was that feeling again. Your heart started beating faster, and despite the cold outside, you felt completely warm. You hoped Scaramouche felt this way too— that the pinkish hue on his cheeks was because of his feelings and not the cold.

You smile at him.

“That’s good to know.” You giggle. “I’ll do the same, then. Promise?” You ask, reaching your pinky out to him.

He scoffs, but places his pinky out to entwine with yours anyway. “In high school? Still? Very childish, but not unexpected.” He says, still poking fun at you.

You roll your eyes and made a pinky promise, not pulling your finger away yet. You want your touch to linger more, even if it wasn’t necessary. Though, he didn’t seem to have any objections.

After another quick squeeze, you carefully pull your hand away and stand up, getting off the swing. “Let’s get home now, it’s getting way too cold.” You tell him, a shiver running down your spine.

There were still lots of unsaid words. Many things still buried. So much yearning.

But for now, with the way you tug his arm along to get home, perhaps it was better for you both to stay quiet.

————————

hell yea i can be pretty cringe! i’m surprised if u read this far ily <3

#scaramouche #scaramouche fluff #scara fluff #genshin scara #genshin impact #genshin x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x you #scaramouche x you #am i doing this right?#avy/ami’s stuff ✮⋆˙#woah i can do that

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jiangwanyinscatmom · 29 days

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(Submission) Why do people feel so sorry for JGY and NMJ again? I enjoy both of their characters but it’s so plain that they both made their bed (the coffin) and must lie in it.

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Hello there. I think because many prefer to approach works and characters less from an analytical and outward standpoint,and more of a "well this is what I would do if I were in this situation instead". Which then of course leads to where I can sympathize with these men, despite the surrounding context from the story that lessens that sympathy, very much on purpose.

Yes, Jin Guangyao had a very difficult childhood due to the cruelty of classism, yet he still had a mother that loved him and wanted the best for him, and tried within her means. His love of her though did not mean he had to torture older women still living in brothel life and killing them, he did not need to condemn an entire clan to death because they called him the same as Wen Ruohan and use them once again to claim they killed his son out of hate, when it had been his own hand because of his own obsession of appearing saintly kind and untouchable to the masses of gentry he wanted to be part of fully and idolized.

He is not a working class hero that his fans try to say he is. He didn't do a thing to help civilian life within text, that is actually still pointed to be something only the Lans participate in, and Lan Wangji's own students even more so. He wanted to erase everything about his beginnings because he was ashamed and thought lesser of them, he states that he is better than those he came of.

He also manipulated his own friendship with Lan Xichen to start poisoning Nie Mingjue into Qi deviation and on page confirmation of true demonic arts. Whatever prior to his rise to power, is not an excuse for his continued desperate hold for more even after he was on top especially when he very much tried to kill his nephew who he had raised from birth twice on page. And through all of this displays no remorse for these actions other than miming very weak reasons that even a very naive Lan Xichen can see with nothing but terror at this lack of taking claim for one's actions from malice and manipulations.

As for Nie Mingjue, there is another idolatry with the idea of a strict, but kind righteous brother. When he is not even that. His own traditionalism blinds him from the actions of sympathy and he condemns an entire group of people based on hate of people that have already died, while hypocritically he sits in the same room of those that once had it. While he is proud of his own name, he does not allow the surviving Wens even that because of his hate that has no place after the war he won. He is not even kind to his own brother who he doesn't understand and mocks for not wanting to be anything like Nie Mingjue, partially out of yes, love and worry, but also because his own way of life is the only way of life. That is not tolerance and he wouldn't be even if there was some change to the external plot details.

His hate is the reason he is a mindless dumb corpse unlike Song Lan and Wen Ning, who at their core were always kind people that were strong because of their faith in kindness. Nie Mingjue did not believe in kindness but righteous zealotry and when he thought one was not adhering to his form of righteous zealotry, they were unworthy of basic humanity.

He himself has no qualms with calling Jin Guangyao as he is due to being born from a whore as if that's why Jin Guangyao is evil and cruel. He is a hypocrite in his own words as he is offended that Jin Guangyao views himself as better than lesser class individuals, yet is quick to say it's the reason Jin Guangyao is what he is. That is classic classism in verbiage. It also isn't due to the cruelty that Jin Guangyao exhibits that he cares about, it's what he views as a disgrace to any sort of "righteous" tactics that should be employed instead.

Yes, these men are very nuanced and very deeply layered, but nuance does not mean they were well meaning, kind, tolerant in action, especially when the text implies they are like many many politicians that exist in the world, and even get these same long winded metas cooing over them and making up reasons as to why they're men to be admired, loved, and coddled. Ironic really, from a sociological look into the ways of fandom speech and underlying bias from world wide isms that permeate societies.

#submission #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #I hate jin guangyao (｡･ω･｡)#nie mingjue #jin guangyao stans don't try me

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primroseparker · 2 years

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Hi there! I've had this idea stuck in my head for a while and I'd rather read it than write it lol -though I might write something myself eventually-

Reader strongly disliking physical touch from everyone but Steve, and him being completely oblivious to it. The rest of the friend group pointing it out and him refusing to believe them, so the whole lot decide to prove him wrong with some sort of masterplan. (Idiots in love am I right)

What do you think? Hope you have a great day xxx

The Only Exception || Steve Harrington x female!reader

Summary: Physical touch was something you despised, but as always, Steve’s touch was the only exception. When he refuses to believe that you actually hate the whole concept of it, the kids come up with a plan to prove him wrong.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: fluff, a tiny bit of angst, reader dislikes physical touch

A/N: I’m sorry it took so long for me to write it. It was difficult because I’m the complete opposite (big fan of physical touch), but I tried my best to implement it in the story. I hope you like it! Also, this is not based on the Paramore song “The Only Exception”, I just thought that the title would fit this story lmao

The warm and bright rays of sunshine slip through the curtains, shining directly on your face and awakening you from your unconscious state. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn to face the other side. A hand comes up to your face, its thumb caressing your cheek slowly. You open your eyes and are met with Steve’s sleepy gaze.

“Hey,” he whispers as he gives you a small smile.

“G’morning,” you murmur as you put your arms around his waist and hug him close. “How long have you been up for?”

“Not long, I was just waiting for you to wake up,” he says nuzzling against your neck. He leaves a trail of soft kisses all the way from your jaw to your collarbone.

“I missed you last night,” he continues.

“I’m sorry, I had to stay later than planned because this customer would just not shut up,” you groan as you remember the encounter. He pulls back to meet his gaze with yours.

“I mean, he just kept going on and on about how his son was going off the rails with this so-called ‘satanic’ D&D game, saying that he was worried he would turn out to be a cult member,” rubbing the sleep from your eyes and then raising your arms above your head to stretch.

“All I did was ask how he was doing, which is obviously a question that is asked clearly out of courtesy. I’m just a retail worker working minimum wage, not a therapist,” you scoff and roll your eyes in frustration.

He looks at you with an amused expression. He loved that you felt comfortable enough to rant about your feelings, knowing full well that you had trouble doing so with most people. But he also found it entertaining because of the way you told your stories.

“Don’t worry about it, dove. I’m just glad to wake up next to you,” he says, voice still raspy from sleep. He pulls you back into a hug and you close your eyes, letting the warmth from his touch embrace you like the world’s most comfortable blanket.

In the two months you and Steve had been dating, neither of you had discussed your love languages. He assumed yours was physical touch since you always welcomed his touch eagerly. Because of this, he never had a reason to think otherwise. But in reality, you were never one to favor physical closeness. Your childhood lacked the expression of love through touch because your parents were never affectionate with you, or with each other for that matter.

Before Steve, any kind of physical closeness would make you uncomfortable. However, having him that close would not only make you happy but calm. His hugs and kisses were like a breath of fresh air. It was something new and exciting, yet calming when you were stressed or low-spirited. Despite loving having him that close, his touch was the only one you tolerated. You, of course, were certain that his love language was physical touch; it was as clear as day and everyone knew it.

“Come on, let’s go get some breakfast so we can help set up for Dustin’s birthday party,” you say as you let go of Steve and sit up into a cross-legged position. He throws his arm over his face and sighs.

“Alright, just give me five more minutes of sleep and then I’ll get up to shower,” he mumbles into his arm.

“Five minutes will turn into ten, ten will turn into twenty, and next thing you know we’ll be an hour late, Steve”

“Fine,” he groans, “I’m getting up now.”

Your mouth quirks up at the corners with contentment. You love living with Steve. Moments of simple domestic bliss are your favorite, especially ones like these. Mornings with him are so soft. It is when you would let your guard down, allowing yourself to be who you really are, and it’s the same way for him. Uncrossing your legs, you give him a kiss on the forehead and get up from the bed. The two of you need to be at the Wheeler’s place soon to set up for the party, and if there’s one thing you dislike more than anything is being late.

“Stevie, you better be in the shower by the time I come back!” you shout as you head to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of you. As much as you love Steve, mornings, when you had somewhere else to be, were not easy.

—

“Happy birthday, Henderson,” Steve smiles as he embraces Dustin in a tight hug. The setup for the party had been pretty easy. All of the kids had offered to help make their friend’s birthday a special one, especially after everything that happened with the Upside Down.

“Thanks, man,” Dustin responds.

“You know, it would’ve been a hell of a lot easier if you had told us what you wanted as a present instead of having us guess,” Steve says while rolling his eyes.

Although he loved the kid, he hated trying to find a present that would be perfect to Dustin’s liking. It was incredibly stressful to him because he wanted it to be perfect. He wanted him to have a present that he would actually enjoy, something that Steve hadn’t experienced in his childhood as a result of his parent’s emotional negligence. Sure, they always provided him with anything he needed, but they never bothered to give him the attention and affection all childrens need. Every year, his parents would always give him money to buy whatever he wanted, even as a child. The thought that goes into buying a loved one something they want is much better than an envelope with a hundred bucks and a half-hearted congratulations.

“I’m sure I’ll love whatever you got me. Plus, where’s the fun in just telling you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, dude. It better be something you like, otherwise I’m making you bike to return it for something you actually like. I’m not wasting gas on that,” he grumbles. You give him a knowing smile, after all, you know him well enough to know that he was all bark and no bite. At least not when it came to the people he loved. It seemed like Dustin knew it too because he just chuckles at his remark.

“Happy birthday, Dustin,” you smile as you hand the young teen a blue envelope that contains a birthday card.

“Thanks, y/n!” he says much more enthusiastically. Suddenly, he wraps his arms around you, with your own pinned against your side. You become still as a statue, not knowing how to respond to his touch. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, you bring your right hand up to his back and give him a quick pat. He seems to get the hint because he drops his arms and gives you a slight smile.

“Steve, could you help me carry one of my new inventions? It’s in the garage and it’s just too heavy for me to carry it,” Dustin says.

“Sure, sure,” Steve responds. “Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?” he says as he turns to you.

“I’m sure. I’ll go ask Mrs. Henderson if she needs help with anything,” you smile reassuringly.

“Alright,” he says, giving you a small peck on the cheek before turning on his heel to follow Dustin.

Dustin opens the door to the garage, finding the rest of his friends sitting on the floor playing a boardgame.

“What are you guys doing here?” Steve questions.

“Dustin’s mom got mad at us for yelling while playing the game. She told us to either tone it down or come to the garage. So, we decided to come here instead,” Lucas shrugs. “What are you doing here? I thought you would be hanging out with the others,” he adds. Steve assumes that by the others he means Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, and you.

“I was, but Henderson over here wanted me to help him carry something that was apparently too heavy for him. Which is bullshit because I know for a fact he would rather struggle to carry something than ask for my help.”

With that, he turns to look at Dustin. “So what’s going on, dude?” he questions, brow arched in suspicion.

“When were you going to tell me that y/n hates hugs?” Dustin asks.

“What are you talking about? She loves hugs,” he says, surprise crossing his face.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about. It sure would’ve been better if you had told me before I hugged her today.”

Steve shoots him a quizzical look and asks, “I seriously have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Everytime we hug her she either awkwardly stands very still with her arms pinned to her sides or just dodges the gesture altogether,” Max joins in, “I thought you knew that already.”

“You guys have no idea what you’re talking about,” Steve says.

“It’s true, last week when she helped me with my History homework, I tried to give her a hug but she just stook out her hand for a handshake instead,” Will reveals.

“And a few minutes ago she just stood very still and gave me a pat on the back while I gave her a hug,” Dustin adds.

“I think I would know if my girlfriend disliked physical touch,” Steve insists.

“You think we’re making it up? Fine, we’ll prove you wrong, Dingus,” Dustin fires back. He goes up to Mike and whispers something in his ear. Mike nods and turns to whisper the same thing in El’s ear.

“Let’s go,” Dustin says. The rest of the kids follow him, Steve trailing right behind them. They head to the living room, where you’re sitting on the couch reading your book.

“Hey, y/n,” Dustin greets you. You look from your novel, and smile at the kids.

“Hey,” you answer back.

“We just wanted to thank you for everything you have done for us. I mean, from helping us out with our English and History homework, to giving us rides to the arcade and helping decorate for my birthday party,” he continues.

“Yeah, and thanks for the relationship advice you gave us earlier this week,” Mike comments as he glances at El.

“There’s no need to thank me, I’m happy to help out however I can,” giving them a gentle smile.

“Can I give you a hug?” El asks shyly.

“Oh, uh, sure,” you mutter. You step forward in her direction and wrap your left arm around her shoulders for a brief second. When you step back, you give her a tight smile and put your hands in the pockets of your jacket.

“Are you okay, y/n?” Lucas asks.

“Of course,” you reply.

“Did I do something wrong? Was my hug that bad?” El asks you, a frown forming on her face.

“What? No, not at all. You’re a great hugger El” you quickly say.

“Or do you just don’t like us? Is that why you hate our hugs?” Dustin inquires, brows furrowed in worry.

“It’s not you guys, I promise. I’m just not that fond of physical touch,” you admit, an apologetic look on your face.

“What? All this time you’ve hated it and you couldn’t even tell me?” Steve asks, a hurtful look crossing his face.

“We’ll leave you two to talk,” Dustin says quietly. They all glance at each other in confusion, but Dustin nods towards the hallway that leads back to the garage. They exit the room, leaving the two of you in awkward silence.

“Does that mean that you’ve hated all of the kisses and hugs I’ve been giving you this entire time?” Steve asks, eyebrows lowered and pulled together.

You close the space that separates the two of you and bring your hands up to his face to softly cup his cheek.

“Baby, I’ve loved every single kiss and hug you have given me so far. Look, I know we’ve never discussed this, but physical touch doesn’t come easy to me. I mean, the kids just proved it,” you laugh humorlessly.

“My parents were never affectionate with me, so anything that involves touching other people makes me uncomfortable. I never thought that it would change, but then you came along and became my only exception,” you continue, “Trust me when I say that nothing makes me happier than feeling you close to me.”

“But why didn’t you say anything, dove?” he asks softly, tilting up your chin and cupping both of your cheeks. You take your hands off his face and hold his wrists instead, as if to keep his hands in place.

“It never came up. Plus, I didn’t want you to think that I hated your touch,” you answer in the same tone.

“I’m sorry for not saying anything,” you add.

“And I’m sorry for not noticing it sooner,” he responds.

“I guess we’re just two idiots in love, huh? Too blinded to see the obvious,” he chuckles.

“I guess we are,” you chuckle as well, standing on your toes to meet your lips with his.

—

Taglist: @shyawayfromme @untitledarea

For some reason I couldn’t tag most of the people that answered my google form taglist, just these two. Not sure why it’s happening but sorry!

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfiction #fanfic #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic

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feelbokkie · 6 months

Text

One Last Dance | Chapter 13

pairing: Minho x fem reader

genre: smau, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au, major character death (I am apologizing now), friends to lovers, soul mates, first love, roommates

pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it) 3rd (for one part)

warnings: swearing, mention of food, childhood trauma (child of divorce)

summary: Childhood best friends Lee Minho and L/n Y/n are in their final year of university. While both of them are in love with each other, the only thing keeping them apart is Minho’s fear of change. As both dancers prepare for their lives after college, will Minho finally let fear rule him and his emotions or will he finally gain courage before he loses Y/n forever?

word count: 1,592

screenshot count: 16

taglist: closed!

previous | masterlist | next

Minho quickly turns around to face Felix, who sheepishly continues the dance. Minho’s mouth hangs open in disbelief at the younger man. It’s a small mistake. A simple one that most people wouldn’t notice. But Minho isn’t most people and for him, this mistake is significant.

“Seriously?” He scoffs as he pulls the remote for the audio system from his pocket and stops the song.

“Sorry, sorry,” Felix claps his hands together and beings to his chest as he bows his head.

“If you were really sorry, you’d get the move right,” Minho says sharply, causing Felix to wince back.

“I’m trying, this is just a difficult routine,” Felix whines.

The two of them have been practicing most of the morning. Finals are coming up and Felix wanted help with the performance he needs to do for one of his finals. There is one movie in particular that Felix is having trouble with. And every time he messed it up, Minho caught it. It's almost like he's waiting for Felix to mess up and it's stressing him out.

"Maybe if you focused on your dancing instead of meddling in people's private lives it wouldn't be so difficult," Minho mutters under his breath as he runs his hand through his hair.

Felix presses his lips together, making them all but disappear as he looks at Minho, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach. He knew that something had to be up with Minho, he just figured that it had something to do with you leaving but now he knows it's a bit more than that.

"Ah, so is that what this is about?" Felix asks softly, trying not to anger Minho more. His deep voice is uncharacteristically small.

"You spent more time sticking your nose where it doesn't belong when you should have been working on your performance." Minho shoots back. Minho's normally warm eyes turn cold as he looks at Felix. Minho clenches his fists to make himself calm down, his nails digging into the palm of his hands. He knows that he shouldn't get mad at Felix, but part of him still blames him.

"I know I shouldn't have but I didn't think you'd fuck up that badly. I was just trying to help. You and noona were fighting again and--"

"Just because we were fighting it didn't mean that we needed help. You forget that we've been friends for years before you came in and fucked everything up. You should have learned from your parents to not mess with people's relationships. Now look, that's two relationships that you ruined." Minho says as he walks to get some water, his voice thin and cruel.

Felix's breath gets caught in his throat and he suddenly feels he feels like he can't breathe. It's almost like Minho punched him and knocked the wind out of him. It's a low blow, both Felix and MInho know that. Felix's parents' divorce has been a touchy subject for him and he always felt guilty for it happening. Minho knows that, and yet, he still used it against him knowing it would hit a nerve.

Felix can feel the tears stabbing the back of his eyes. He quickly shuts his eyes, praying for the tears to stay hidden inside. And still, his bottom lip trembles as he tries to keep his composure. A lump forms in Felix's throat as he tries to choke back a sob. He rocks gently back and forth, not even aware he's doing it, as he tries to calm himself down. By the time Minho finishes getting some water and walks back to Felix, he's a bit calmer. He opens his eyes, now devoid of any emotion, and looks at Minho.

“Fuck you, hyung,” Felix says cooly before grabbing his belongings and leaving the practice room.

When you get to the boys' apartment, you head straight to Felix and Jeongin's room. The only noise in the room that can be heard is Felix's quiet sobs. Both Hyunjin and Seungmin sit on the edge of Felix's bed. Seungmin holds a bottle of water in one hand and is stroking Felix's back with the other. Felix's head is in Hyunjin's lap as he gently strokes Felix's hair. Jeongin stands by the door, wanting to be there for his hyung but not entirely sure how to.

"Lix," You call softly. You put your jacket and bag down on the floor at the foot of Jeongin's bed and slowly approach Felix.

"N-noona?" Felix croaks. He lifts his head from Hyunjin's lap and turns towards you. His eyes are barely open but you can see how they glisten with tears. His face red and stained with tears. Your heart shatters in your chest seeing him in this state.

"Hey, Lixie," You get closer to his bed and kneel next to him so you're at eye level, "What's wrong?"

He sucks in his lower lip, trying to keep it from trembling as he looks at you.

"Noona, I'm…I'm s-sorry," He chokes out.

"Why are you sorry?" Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. As far as you are concerned, Felix hasn't done anything to warrant this kind of reaction.

"B-because of me, you and Minho hyung are in a really bad fight. A-and it's all my fault that you two are going to hate each other forever."

You quickly stand up and pull Felix into an upright position. You sit down next to him, wedging yourself between him and Hyunjin. You turn his face towards you and use the bottom of your shirt to wipe the tears off his face. You then cup this face and look him directly into his eyes.

"Felix, what happened with me and Minho has nothing to do with you." You say softly.

"Yes, it does! If I d-didn't insist on trying to help you guys stop fighting, you'd still be friends right now. It's all my fault!"

"Why do you think it's your fault?"

"Because that's what Minho hyung said."

"He said that?" Your mouth hangs open in shock.

Felix nods his head as he sniffles. You watch as he explains what happened this morning with Minho. Your hand quickly reaches behind you as you stop Hyunjin from getting up and going to Minho's apartment. You press your lips together in anger, trying not to swear or go off. You're angry, yes, but getting mad in front of Felix isn't going to help anyone.

"Can you guys leave us alone for a second?" You ask the rest of the boys. "And Hyunjin, do not leave this apartment." You warn.

Jeongin nods his head and leaves first. Seungmin sets down the water bottle beside you and leaves as well. It takes Hyunjin a second before he finally leaves. You grab the water bottle and open it before handing it to Felix. He takes it and quickly starts gulping it down. He finally comes up for air when he's drunk about half of the bottle. He hands it back to you to close. He's no longer outwardly sobbing, but tears are still falling down his face. You pull him into a hug, his head nestling into the crook of your neck, as you also begin rubbing his back.

"Felix, none of this is your fault. Do you understand? And what happened with your parents wasn't your fault either. It's not fair for grown-ass adults to put their relationship on you like that. You didn't make Minho say what he said to me, so it's not your fault. Sometimes when people are hurt, they say a bunch of shit they don't mean because they want others to feel the pain they're feeling inside."

"B-but--"

"Nope, no 'buts.' Felix, romantic relationships are more complex and painful than everyone realizes. Truth is, Minho and I probably weren't going to last anyway. It was just a stupid fantasy that was bound for disaster."

"You two love each other, how is that bound for disaster."

"Because I love him more than he's ever going to love me. And that's not something you could have ever caused. It's not your fault and no matter what he says, it's never going to be your fault. The same goes for your parents."

Felix's body finally stops trembling against yours as he slowly starts to calm down. You breathe a quiet sigh of relief as you continue to stroke his back.

"I'll talk to him. And if for the time being you don't want to be mentored by him, then you can join me and Hyunjin. Okay?" You say softly as you press a kiss to the top of his head.

"Okay," He sniffles.

You pull Felix off you and go to wipe his face with your shirt again. You gently stroke his face when you're done, a smile smile forming. He has such an innocent face and childlike attitude, you're not entirely sure how anyone could be mean to him. It's almost as if he's living his first life.

"I'll spend the night tonight. We can even cuddle if you want."

"Can we?" He asks softly, a slight twinkle coming back to his eyes.

"Yeah," Your smile grows a little. "Now, come on, you haven't eaten all day. I'll make you something."

You stand up and stretch your hand out, waiting for Felix to take it. He grabs your hand and stands up, following you out of the room. His free hand grabs the back of your shirt like a child would to their mother as you two head to the kitchen.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Taglist

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyyscorner @aaasia111 @weird-bookworm @allaboutyej8 @kangaracharacha @lilcutieana @jungkookies1002 @lanatheawesome @hanniemylovelyquokka @jiisungllvr @marked-unknown @kitheat @spearb-99 @chlodavids @veedoesntknaur @yongbbokkie @warlockwithoutcharisma @fennecnco @aslou @babygirlsuna @jihanlovic @kalopsian-thoughts @reianagarcia @sunshinessky @brain-empty-only-draken @f9clementine @jaydebow @phtogravi @mal-lunar-28 @jhstayy

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yanderes-galore · 11 months

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Yandere Death Song with Darling Slithersong(Romantic)

Decided to put some of the requests I have in a randomizer again until I stop having writer's block for the old ones I'm doing rn. So, have this :)

Keep in mind this is Dragon/Dragon content, so you're both a type of dragon. Short as Dragon/Dragon content is odd for me to write in some cases?

Yandere! Death Song with Slithersong! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Dragon/Dragon pairing, Stalking, Just dragon courting, Dubious relationship, Trapping, Brainwashing through song.

As I am doing research on the dragon types let's talk about them before we start.

The Death Song is a tropical dragon that mimics butterflies in beauty.

The Death Song, like in its name, also has a siren cry that lures other dragons to it. This is usually to attract food.

These dragons are usually solitary in nature and hunt other dragons by trapping them in an amber-like substance.

These dragons can mimic and sing but struggle to use stealth. Despite this their slender bodies make them somewhat agile.

Their solitary attitude is because any dragon that gets too close is usually made a meal.

Now let's talk Slithersong, the dragon you are in this concept.

Slithersong are a close relative species to the Death Song.

Slithersong also use siren calls to lure in prey and use the same amber-like substance to trap said prey.

There's even some cases where Slithersong can blind prey.

Slithersong are smaller than Death Songs, which makes them faster and more agile.

This would give the Slithersong an advantage over a Death Song.

Slithersong are also solitary dragons due to eating other dragons.

Both dragons are very similar and difficult to train.

It would be... interesting if one tried to court the other.

Imagine if the Death Song thought you were trying to court it with your song which results in the larger dragon trying to court you.

You were just trying to hunt.

Your species is very similar to each other but it would take awhile before an obsession could happen.

Both types are solitary so it would take a long time.

Although I can see the dynamic of this as a Slithersong minding their own business while a Death Song tries to court them.

You just want to hunt and may even try to hunt the Death Song itself but the Death Song always seems to know when to back off.

At some point you may begin to tolerate the other dragon if fighting with it won't work.

The two species could theoretically be compatible with each other due to the similarities they share.

It would be a relationship similar to Night Furies and Light Furies.

The Death Song would no doubt try to hunt for you in an attempt to impress and feed you.

Why hunt for yourself? They can hunt for you...

They even brought dragons coated in amber for you!

Honestly, the fact your song makes prey delusional doesn't help.

The Death Song is only encouraged by your song and loves to hear it.

This situation is probably the only case of two dragons of your species being seen with each other.

It's even stranger that that the Death Song is sharing desperate courting behavior towards you.

Honestly, if the Death Song wanted to keep their Slitherwing! darling in place they may just use amber to trap you, too.

The Death Song would make sure their darling couldn't escape and would trap them in a makeshift nest.

You'd be fed and taken care of by the Death Song... even if you try to nip at them and growl.

If you got too worked up the Death Song would simply sing you a song.

The Death Song trills many songs towards you.

They're mostly calming songs and courting songs.

At night the larger dragon curls around you, amber coating your feet and wings.

To others it may seem like you're prey.

You feel like prey...

But not in the way you think.

#yandere how to train your dragon #yandere httyd #yandere dragon #yandere death song #yandere dragon x dragon

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maaarshieee · 1 year

Text

⎯⎯ ୨ This Guy's In love With You Pare ୧ ⎯⎯

ੈ♡˳ Alhaitham x Male!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 6.9k words ┊ Fluff + Crack + Hurt/comfort *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

written as part of @yae-publishing-house's MODERN AU EVENT! yeah i made it into a school thing as well BUT THE SONG I BASED IT OFF WAS IN A SCHOOL SETTING... the song is the title, made by 'parokya ni edgar',,, we need more male reader content and this song came across my yt reccs once again so i HAD to write smth based off it,, have a good day/night!! ALSO THIS GOES TO MY FELLOW PINOYS,,, kausapin nyo naman ako tangina HAHAHA,, pare means bro/dude,, honestly i think this isn't good enough but huddsa,, long fic hehe (more in tags 💕)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: gay struggles, in denial of gay feelings AHAH, teens but same personalities, oblivious!reader, brief misunderstanding (reader is thought to be against gays), slight angst if you squint near the end, finding out your sexuality in the worst way possible /j, ooc alhaitham?, a whiplash of events and memories??? HAHAHAHA

"I'm telling you, that guy likes— loves you, dude."

Those words seemed to slow down time for you, the book in your hand long forgotten as your heart leaped up your throat. Heat spreads throughout your chest, creeping up your neck and to your cheek, and you aren't sure if it's from embarrassment from your friend's, Kaveh, assumption, or rage for such bullshit ideas he had started sprouting out of his good-for-nothing mouth. Blinking incredulously at Kaveh, who was, surprisingly, staring back at you with a rather serious expression, you shook your head in disagreement, glaring at the blonde beside you. When Kaveh said that you two needed to talk about something urgent, you should've known it was just one of his annoying antics, dragging you hurriedly all the way to the rooftop of your school for a silly joke.

With a soft sigh escaping your lips as your mind finally processed his nonsense, you threw a punch at Kaveh's unsuspecting arm, making him yelp in pain and glare back at you. "Hey! What the hell is that for!? I'm serious, you know!?" He hissed in pain, rubbing his aching shoulder as you proceeded to read once again, rolling your eyes. You couldn't believe you skipped lunch just for this, now you're hungry and distracted. Closing your book with a slam, you hit the hard cover against your forehead.

The burn on your cheeks hasn't left as your thoughts lingered on Kaveh's words. Alhaitham? Your long-time best friend? Love you? The thought seemed so absurd when Alhaitham acts like he could barely tolerate you. He was a student of high honors, always on top and taking the rightful title of Valedictorian. Alhaitham, without much effort, was impeccably famous all over school, both for his flawless marks and impressive looks, and his rather arrogant personality, mixed in with his logic-based mentality. Even if he wasn't well-liked across the school for his harsh comments and condescending impression of everyone, girls and boys alike couldn't help but swoon at his handsome but cold charms. And you? Well, you're just a normal student in the same school, with somewhat decent grades. One of the only reasons you haven't failed as much as you would've thought was because of Alhaitham. He told you one day that since he's your 'friend', he's obligated to at least ensure you won't drop out of school and have presentable grades for when you're bound to go to college. You weren't famous either, and there wasn't really anything about you that stands out, other than being Alhaitham's only friend, inside and outside of your school.

Plus, the only reason you and Alhaitham have stuck together for this long is that you've been friends since childhood, your parents being very close with one another and so the connection you've created ever since was difficult to sever now. Not like neither of you wants to part anyways, so you've grown fond of each other over the years, even if Alhaitham wasn't very expressive of it, so it would leave others to wonder if the two of you are truly friends or not. Both of you would always bicker, with Alhaitham scolding you for not taking your studies seriously and you remarking about him studying too much. Being with him only felt natural, being by his side a majority of the time you spent at school and home, letting him study at the seat next to you while you did anything you wanted to. Study sessions always included him, as well as lunch breaks, the end of school, holidays, and summer.

"You're thinking about him right now, are you?" Kaveh's voice snapped you back to reality, jerking your head away from the cover of your book as your eyes narrowed at the smug expression he wore on his face, arms crossed. "Don't tell me you love him too?"

Like a ticking time bomb, you could hear your heart pound against your ribcage in your ears, faint ringing in the distance, before your brain suddenly exploded at his accusation, your mouth forming into a snarl. "What!? Are you crazy!? We're both guys, Kaveh!" Although you were scowling at your friend that sat beside you, fuming at his nonsense blabbering, the heat on your face only intensified, and Kaveh was quick to take notice, teasing you even more. There was no way you'd like Alhaitham! Sure, he's been part of your life for so long that being without him feels utterly wrong, that you'd seek his company and would choose him over everyone else, doesn't mean you have romantic affections towards your best friend! That was just it, best friends, completely platonic and only favoring him more due to the time you've spent together, and knowing each other better than anyone else. And you're (somewhat) certain Alhaitham shares the same sentiment.

Kaveh was just being ridiculous, and you've had enough of it. You're going to prove to him that your best friend doesn't harbor feelings for you in that way, only seeing you as a trustworthy companion worthy of his time and friendship. With a scoff, you stood up from where sat, leaving Kaveh sputtering curses under his breath from your punches.

Sunlight peeked through the curtains of your room, dust and particles dancing from the light it brought as the cool wind made the plants sitting on your window sill bob and flutter. Right outside your door, you could hear the faint chattering of your family all across the living room, watching a comedy movie together, without you. Usually, you'd never miss out on the chance to be with your family to bond with them... But the past few days have left you in a daze and chaotic realization. You couldn't believe that you were saying this but... Kaveh may be actually right. Standing motionlessly in your bathroom, facing the mirror inches away from your face whilst your hands gripped the edges of the marble sink, your brows furrowed and eyes unfocused as you thought about your observations on Alhaitham, cold water dripping down your face.

At school, you've begun paying much more on everything Alhaitham does. From the way he talks, looks at people, reactions when others try talking to him, and certain things you do to get a rise from him. And to your horror, you've found out that Alhaitham does favor you over others, just not in the way you originally thought of.

Alhaitham has always looked at other people with this layer of frostiness no matter who they are, though he still does regard teachers and elders with a minute sense of respect, his eyes were still sharp as ever, calculating and impassive. But when he turns to look at you, you've taken note of how his eyes ever-so-slightly softened at the sight of you, the ice that would freeze strangers with a mere glance would melt, and instead of gazing at you with simple familiarity, you could sense a sort of fondness in his eyes as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. What surprised you the most was when you often caught him staring at you— more specifically; your lips, when he had thought your attention was somewhere else, and not on him. Sometimes, he'd even subtly glance at your lips whilst you spoke to him, then return, maintaining eye contact with you, as if he was hinting at something he desired to do with them...

Alhaitham would typically avoid any sort of physical touch from others, and neither does engage in it. Why should he when he barely knew them, nor the fact that it was completely unnecessary? But when you wrap your arms around his shoulders as you walk down the halls together, nudge him with your elbow or lean against his body, he never spares you a glance, nor pushes you away. He never does, in fact, he seemed to rather indulge himself with your touch, relishing the warmth your hands bring and sometimes even initiating these touches himself. From wiping away messy crumbs from your lips, gently but firmly grabbing your wrist to lead you to the library where he always is, and pinching your cheek to wake you from your slumber to prevent you from getting caught by the teacher. You also noticed that he'd grow a tad bolder on some days, his touches lingering on your body, but would quickly return his hand to himself, flipping a page of the book he was reading. But you could tell, it was written all over his face, that he longed to touch you for longer periods, perhaps even hold you in his arms... Though, he didn't, not wanting to risk being the cause of making you uncomfortable.

You knew Alhaitham was very aware of how others would only come toward him to attain knowledge and assistance from one of the most brilliant students of the academy, hoping that if they managed to befriend him, their grades would exponentially increase! One thing they never took into consideration, though, is if they were up to Alhaitham's standards. But what are Alhaitham's standards? Does a person have to be sophisticated and at his level of smartness to befriend him? No, of course not, he could care less about who's smart or not, but no one will ever reach up to his very specific standards because, simply put, his standard is you. If Kaveh hadn't opened your eyes to this perspective of your dear best friend, you would've mistaken everything he has done for you as simple things friends do for each other. How come you haven't noticed it before? Were you so oblivious to this fact that you never caught wind of the double meaning of his actions that he only seemed to do for you? Using the excuse that you've never dated anyone yet was even too foolish! You hadn't realized that to everyone, it was fairly obvious and that it was only you who hadn't recognized that his feelings were more than platonic.

Hell, even your parents knew and they didn't even tell you! Cruel, you felt utterly betrayed by everyone you knew. But you were ultimately more upset at yourself. Seriously, who would buy you something that you had offhandedly mentioned a few years back, something that even you had forgotten, and give it to you on your recent birthday? Who else would buy you your favorite treats and snacks whenever he passes by a convenience store on the way to your house? Alhaitham would only ever agree if you were the one to ask him to help you with your studies— everyone else will be ignored and rejected. Alhaitham would only ever hear out criticism if it's from you. Alhaitham would always let things you did that didn't bide with the rules of the academy slide, pretending that you totally didn't accidentally break one of the bathroom doors with a click of his tongue and a brief scolding to be more careful, before pacing away from the crime scene.

You, you, you— it's always been you. Your belief that Alhaitham would never fancy a girl because his taste was too refined was a swing and a whole fucking miss from the actual truth, hitting you with the force of an oncoming truck. He wasn't interested in girls, not because the girls in the academy never aligned with his type, no, it was because he was fucking gay!

And you should've known better than to convey to Kaveh every single realization you've gathered throughout the span of a whole week, taking pleasure in watching you have an internal crisis at your conundrum. "I told you, and you didn't believe me!" Kaveh had a smug smirk on his lips that you longed to smack off his face. "Alhaitham is really fucking gay for you, bro." He relished your exasperated reactions, both hands on your face as he laughs out loud, slapping his knee. You buried your face further into your hands the more Kaveh teased you, face practically on flames on how hot it burned. A thought struck you, and you pulled your hands away from your face, eyes meeting the swaying leaves of potted plants that were littered across the rooftop of the academy (courtesy to Tighnari), the impending summer heat prickling the skin of your face, blinking away the brightness of your surroundings.

"Why hasn't he confessed to me then?" You asked no one in particular, eyes trailing back to your hands. Kaveh, who was stuffing his face with his lunch that he had brought up to the rooftop, without missing a beat, replied; "Because you're stupid enough to not see he's head over heels on you so he thinks you're straight." Frowning, you turned your head toward him with a raised brow, confused. "Think? But I am straight." Kaveh paused for a brief moment, before letting out a humored snort and shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah right." That was his only comment and this earned another angered punch on his arm.

"Agh! Stop punching me when I'm only stating facts!" Kaveh huffed, rubbing his bruising arm once more, before smirking at you again, pointing a finger at you. "But with how much you're paying attention to him and acting weirdly, he'd confess to you sooner or later."

What he said made your heart race, because you had your own growing suspicions, as much as you'd hate to admit it. The moment Alhaitham detected your growing awareness of his affections toward you and hadn't distanced yourself from him upon revelation, he was becoming more audacious. Just a few minutes ago, before you ran off with Kaveh up the stairs, Alhaitham's managed to caress your cheek with the bullshit excuse that there was something on your face, and you knew that he wasn't hiding his true intentions either anymore, enjoying seeing you at a loss of words when his hand rested on the small of your back to lead you somewhere instead of typically grabbing your wrist, or compliment you out of the blue, even if you didn't do anything particularly outstanding.

It was so natural for Alhaitham, to let his actions speak so loudly what he truly felt without a trace of shame in his handsome features (wait, since when did you start thinking he's handsome?), with a confident poise, honeyed words that were a huge contrast to his stone cold character would roll off his tongue so smoothly that you'd find yourself drowning in his intense emotions. It throws you off, catches you off guard, makes your head all fuzzy, and then suddenly, you're hyper-aware of everything he does. Just for how long was he waiting for you to notice, so he could proceed without such excessive caution? He's been hanging out in your house every day, after every school, doing nothing in particular together. Since when has Alhaitham undoubtedly fallen for you? Understanding the only possible truth that Alhaitham had never spoken to you of his true feelings was because he was, what, afraid to risk a friendship that has lasted since you were children? It still baffles you to this day.

Despite Alhaitham's actions, you find yourself... yearning for more. How come? Well, you're certainly not gay. Perhaps you just enjoyed the attention he gave you? (He's with you every day, and doesn't pay mind to others. All of his attention has always been on you.) Perhaps you were just reassured that Alhaitham truly did like you and didn't think of you as a horrible person that he's stuck with? (Wait, since when, were you insecure—?) Whatever, it was, it isn't because you're gay! You don't reciprocate those romantic feelings on your best friend (how can you be so sure?)!

After a long, unbearable silence, you leaned back against the wall and ran your hand through your hair, heaving a deep sigh. This was all Kaveh's fault. Ever since he said those not-so-bullshit words to you, you've never been so conflicted about what you think of Alhaitham, and, unfortunately, of yourself. You weren't even sure if you were straight or not because you'd never had a crush on a girl because Alhaitham was the one hogging most of your attention.

"Yeah, I know."

Tonight is the night you will die.

And it is all your parents' fault.

They just had to ask Alhaitham over for dinner, and your mother had to suggest that he should sleep over for the night. Right after you told them that you had finally realized his feelings for you too! They mean well, that's for sure, but holy hell, you're about to lose your mind with how nervous you are. It wasn't the first time Alhaitham would be sleeping over at your house, but it was his first time sleeping over with both of you aware of one's feelings for the other. The urge to scream and run off by jumping out of your window has never been stronger. But you stayed, already taking out the extra mattress your family bought for Alhaitham's use whenever he stayed over, his pillows and blankets, placing them right on the floor, next to your bed. Tidying up your bedroom distracts you, straightening your sheets and comforter, and watering your plants. By the time you finished, your mother called you down for dinner and to open the door for your best friend.

Though you were originally anxious about Alhaitham's sleepover, you knew you could trust Alhaitham not to step over the line and make you feel uncomfortable. You were certain that it was the opposite of what Alhaitham would want, and that even if he does harbor romantic feelings for you, he would never force it upon you in a way that would leave you to tears. So you pretended it was as if you were unaware once again, acting how you'd normally do when Alhaitham would come over; excited and already dragging him inside your home to greet your parents (he calls your parents 'auntie' and uncle' and it was the last nail of your coffin filled with ever-so-late awareness).

And dinner was the same as always, filled with happy chattering and laughter, all of you not minding Alhaitham's bluntness nor his ramblings once one of your parents brought up a topic that piques his interest. They've known Alhaitham for as long as you have, growing fond of the boy as if he was their own. And you can tell that he shares the view, given how he was softly smiling the whole time you had dinner. After that, the two of you went straight to your bedroom when your mother rejected both of your offers to help in the kitchen and began talking about anything that comes to mind; be it school, plans for the next few days, a hobby, interesting facts or your annoying friend, Kaveh. At this point and time, the unspoken feelings he has for you completely slipped from your mind as the comfortable presence of your best friend settles beside you, listening to you rant about a new video game that was going to be released in summer, beaming in excitement, soliciting a quiet chuckle from Alhaitham.

But Alhaitham had to bring you back to reality once the both of you were tucked in comfortably in your own beds, ready to finally call it a day and just fall asleep. His words, though soft and low, his soothing voice turned into unpleasant ringing in your ears with the words he spoke. "Hey, are you still awake?" It was a simple question, but it made you stiff on your bed, squeezing your eyes shut to hide the fact that you were still awake, biting on your bottom lip. "I have something to confess to you." The pits of your stomach twisted as your heartbeat quickened as you had a sliver of hunch about what was about to transpire. Then, like a bucket of cold water was thrown all over your body, the grip you had on your sheets tightened when you heard the hushed shifting of his clothes, his presence nearing your form, your back facing him. "I like you more than you could ever imagine." He whispered against your ear, his hot breath hitting your skin, shivering upon the contact. Your breath hitched at his confession, your head spinning at how hot your cheeks burned, but you kept your eyes closed, not giving a single care anymore even if he knew that you were still awake. For a while, the both of you stayed like that, waiting for something to happen, for one of you to make a move with bated breaths... Before Alhaitham eventually pulled away from your 'sleeping' form, a small sigh left his lips. "C'mon, wake up." Alhaitham persisted, "Stop pretending to be asleep." He poked your side, and your body twitched, now scowling in annoyance and further embarrassment at your ticklishness. He tried a few more times, but you continued to ignore him, trying your best to fall asleep.

Fine then, Alhaitham huffed through his nose. He could deal with you tomorrow morning, after all. So he went back to his bed, lay down, and fell asleep with a smile on his lips. What Alhaitham didn't expect was for you to fully ignore him for the next few days. Upon waking up, he was surprised to hear from your father that you had woken up quite early before he could and managed to silently prepare yourself for school without waking him up. When Alhaitham got to school, he spent his classes all alone in his seat, your assigned chair that was always beside him always empty in every class the two of you shared. You've skipped classes beforehand, but he never thought you'd skip classes you had together. And while you'd often hang out with Kaveh on the rooftop to eat lunch, he was surprised to see Kaveh at their usual table without you, with Kaveh not knowing where you were because he had not seen you for the whole day. It's been like that ever since his verbal confession, with you skipping classes, exchanging seats with other students just to be far away from Alhaitham, and even not going to school at all. It may not show, but he was extremely worried.

It really wasn't your intention to avoid Alhaitham. You genuinely wanted to talk to him after what happened in your little sleepover, but being near Alhaitham would send your heart into a fucking frenzy and you'd be too lightheaded to properly speak to him. For the sake of your own survival, you had to avoid him until you've maintained a clear head around him. You didn't mean to worry him, and you definitely didn't mean to give him the wrong signals. After every school, he'd stop by your house, asking if you were home or if you were okay, and your parents would continuously deny him from entering your home as per your wishes. You kept leaving his messages on read too, the guilt slowly accumulating in your heart until it was about to burst. Messages from Kaveh told you that Alhaitham hasn't notably been doing well, lunches spent worrying about you or studying even more, and bags forming under his eyes as he thought of the possibilities as to why you were avoiding him.

Honestly? It sucked. You don't even remember the reason why you're avoiding him anymore in the first place, but the butterflies that filled up your stomach keep fluttering at the mere thought of Alhaitham, your heart beating so fast you believe you were about to die from a heart attack. Just why were you feeling like this? It was as if you were some lovesick girl that couldn't approach her crush— you dropped the glass of water you were holding in your hand, and the sound of shattering glass was akin to how your view of your entire life has shattered right before your eyes.

Was that it? The reason why your thoughts would race when you see him? The reason why your heart pounds so hard when he sends a smile your way, only for your eyes to see? Why you intrinsically stick by his side when you find him in the midst of a crowd? Why you feel much more relaxed with him than being in a room with a girl who was hinting that she liked you? Is that the reason why your mind has always been infested with the thought of your best friend? That when you go out with others, you'd be thinking wistfully of Alhaitham because he wasn't there with you? The constant longing, the envy you feel when girls stare for far too long, the absolute pride you feel when he wins at international academic contests. You felt goosebumps form on your forearms as you gripped the edge of the kitchen counter. Holy fuck... You were...

"Sweetie?" The sweet, gentle voice of your mother entered the premises of the kitchen with a small gasp escaping her lips when she caught sight of the shattered glass littered across the floor, rushing towards your paling form. "Are you okay? What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost!" She queried worriedly, wiping away the cold sweat that formed on your forehead as you wrapped your arms around your mother, bathing in her loving presence and burying your face onto your shoulder. "Dear me, you're shaking! Just what happened?" Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, you finally found your voice to speak.

"I think... I'm gay..."

Silence...

Then you heard your mother hold back a snort, and your heart broke to a million pieces at this utter betrayal. But she wasn't making fun of you, the hug she was giving you says that much, but she was quite amused that it took you this long to figure it out. Caressing the back of your head with her hand and a tender kiss on your temple, she cooed lovingly as she felt your tears wet her shoulders, reassuring as much as she can that she accepts you wholeheartedly, you were her son after all, nothing could ever change that fact. Just as your breathing was beginning to sync with hers, gradually calming down on your own terms in your mother's arms, she suddenly whispered; "We've known since you were little."

You choked on your spit, startled at her as-a-matter-of-fact tone of voice, pulling away from the hug as you stared at her with wide, unbelieving eyes.

"What do you mean by that!?"

For the first time that week, you finally met Alhaitham outside of school.

You were on your way to the grocery store to buy some ingredients before tonight's dinner, not paying much attention to your surroundings as your head was lost in the clouds. The skies were painted with warm orange, red and yellow hues as the sun began its descent, the moon peeking around the corner for its rise. Kids across the street were beginning to retreat back into their homes, waving their goodbyes and promising to play with each other once again the next day. It made you feel nostalgic, it felt like it was just yesterday when you were as carefree as the children in your neighborhood, playing with friends. Well, if you count running across the grass fields while Alhaitham read a book from afar as 'playing with friends'. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, though it was quickly wiped off when a hand suddenly gripped your wrist with such force you thought that they were going to break it. A sense of urgency washed through your body as the peace and tranquility of your walk were ruined by the unexpected perpetrator who grabbed you, but before you could land a punch on their face, you were swift to stop yourself from doing so upon recognizing who it was.

"Alhaitham, what the hell— hey! Let go, man!"

You wriggled in his grasp when he started dragging you away from the direction of the grocery store, lightly hitting his back when his grip only tightened on your wrist, panic rising in your mind. You had no intention of dragging your avoidance on Alhaitham any longer, deciding that you'd come face to face with him once you start attending classes completely to make up for your absences and skipping, but you hadn't anticipated that you'd meet him on your way to buy some ingredients, much less drag you to the park. Eventually, you gave up on trying to escape confrontation with Alhaitham, the guilt that you'd been ignoring for the past week gnawed on your insides as you followed him on the familiar path. You recognized this part of the park, at the edge of the forest where your parents would chastise you for always trying to cross the rickety fence that separates the park and the forest. Being the rowdier child, you'd always try to climb the fence only to be slapped in the face by Alhaitham's small hand. His steps finally came to an end in front of the lone tree that the fence had to swerve around to not chop it down. It was a tree you were fond of, climbing up its branches just to shake off leaves onto Alhaitham since he liked to read under its shade, giggling at his angered yells.

Letting go of your wrist, Alhaitham crossed his arms and turned to face you with a very cold look on his face, a type of expression he has never directed at you before, sending shivers up your spine. You couldn't help but give him a sheepish smile that wavered under his suffocating gaze, rubbing the back of your neck. "Haha... Hey..."

"You have a minute to give sufficient reasons, not excuses, as to why you've been avoiding me for the whole week; so much so that you're willing to risk your academic records for the sake of not coming eye to eye with me," Alhaitham demanded, not asked, of you, his eyes narrowing at your anxious fidgeting. Swallowing the shame that rose up to your throat, you opened your mouth to try and explain yourself, but the only thing you could make out was a small meek noise, before shutting your mouth once more, eyes boring onto the grass that flowed with the wind. A minute has passed and neither of you has said a single word, Alhaitham's stare slowly intensifies with every passing second, and you shrink down on yourself as the impulse to run away, to avoid him again grows more and more tempting. Just as you were about to open your mouth to attempt to speak, Alhaitham let out a long, drawn-out sigh, his expression once filled with seriousness morphing into a much somber one, averting his gaze from you. Caught off guard by the sudden change of mood, the words on the tip of your tongue were blown off by the wind at what he said in a low, gentle tone as he took a step toward you. "I... Apologize if I made you extremely uncomfortable with my confession..."

Darkness was slowly engulfing the skies as the stars began to twinkle down on you, faint chirping of crickets can be heard all around you as fireflies, one by one began lighting up on the spot where you stood. Ah, you remember now. During your childhood, you'd throw rocks at Alhaitham's window, in the dead of night, to sneak him out to the park, to the spot you'd always hang out at the edge of the forest to watch the fireflies light up the night sky, dancing and fluttering around the tree where you shared a lot of memories together. You'd force Alhaitham to catch fireflies with you, and every time he'd begrudgingly agree, you'd be graced with the image of a usual stoic boy turn into a carefree, fun-loving boy that laughed as much as you did, running around to catch more fireflies that you then roll onto the grass as he trips. Your heart clenched at those memories, your eyes now staring deeply into his teal eyes that glinted with indefinite shades of maroon, the sincerity sinking deep into your skin as he continued to speak, the yellow lighting highlighting his pretty face, filled with regret and a forlorn frown etched on his lips. "I just want you to know that you needn't return my affections for you and that I would never force them onto you. After all, I've known you forever and... I would love to keep the friendship we've made..." If it wasn't for fireflies lighting up your darkening surroundings, you wouldn't have seen how his eyes began to glisten, the way his hands lightly trembled as he forced himself to stop it.

"You still have a friend in me that you can depend on." Bowing down his head, his bangs completely covering his eyes, hands both clenched into fists at his sides. "So, please, if you could just forget everything I said and..." Everything after that part became muffled in your eyes, your emotions fluctuating inside your mind. But you know for certain that you weren't about to reject Alhaitham, no, not when your heart thrummed at the thought of his touch, not when the tips of your ears burned at the sight of him after so long. The years you've spent with Alhaitham were only filled with meaningful experiences with one another, and not short of joy. There were times of disagreements, of days where the days were filled with rain as the two of you loathed one another with such intensity, in the end, you would make up and fix what needed to be fixed, learning from past mistakes and understanding each other on a whole different level. You don't spend much time apart, and when you do, both of you long for each other, as if a piece from a puzzle has been torn off, and once that piece was put back to its rightful place, it will cling onto each other for as long as they could, basking with the other's presence and filling the void of loneliness that drilled into your hearts.

Without a doubt, you love Alhaitham, you've always had, and you regrettably only learned only now, letting him go through years of yearning and then heartbreak for your cowardice. So, in the heat of the moment, with the light that's faintly emitting from each firefly that danced around like stars in the night blurring into the background as you took a step forward, inching your faces close to each other until you could feel his breath against your lips. Alhaitham's breath caught in his throat, about to recoil from your proximity, only to be stopped by your hands holding onto his broad shoulders. After a brief moment of hesitance, you closed your eyes and closed the gap between you, your arms slowly wrapped around his neck as you pressed your body against his. He went frigid under your touch, eyes blown wide at the sensation of your lips pressed against his, clearly inexperienced, but eager to express that you had struggled to show him in simple actions and through words. When you were about to retract from the kiss, suddenly becoming insecure at his lack of reciprocation, Alhaitham's hands firmly gripped your hips, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss that you had initiated, by your own free will, and guided your lips to properly kiss until the fuzziness on your lips traveled all the way up to your head, growing weak on your knees.

Once you've finally parted to breathe some air, you buried your face onto his neck, your lips trembling at how good he was at kissing. Geez, what the hell? You could barely think straight after that. Maybe it was the sudden spike in adrenaline flowing through your veins when Alhaitham had dragged you back into this old spot of your childhood, now came crashing down after the kiss full of bliss as you lean your weight against Alhaitham's body for support, his arms wrapping around your torso. Letting out a shaky breath, you murmured against his skin, "'M sorry for avoiding you... I hadn't meant it— I just grew afraid for no reason when you suddenly confessed, even if I knew you had romantic feelings for me for quite some time..." The grip you had on his clothes tightened as your voice grew more and more silent, barely above a whisper at this point, and yet Alhaitham heard you loud and clear, amidst the loud chirping of crickets and the sounds of leaves swaying along the wind,

"I drowned in so many emotions, I was so overwhelmed just at catching a glimpse of you... Then I realized that, yeah, I'm fucking gay too." He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in, his embrace tightening around you reassuringly, encouraging you to go on. Choking back a sob, you shamefully tried to stop your tears from falling, heart painfully pounding against your chest, "And it fucking upsets me for not realizing that I've loved you from the start, that in my whole life, I thought I was straight when in actuality, I was just oblivious with how I felt towards you... I'm so sorry, Alhaitham..."

Ah, so that's how it is. It wasn't sheer disgust of his feelings for you, nor he had made you extremely uncomfortable. It pains him that he had thought of the worst, jumping to conclusions without further proof to solidify his assumptions on how you felt. He had boasted that he thinks based on rationality and logic only, but when it comes to you? His mind becomes a jumbled mess of emotions, it was as if his heart took full reign of his mind and body. "Please don't apologize, I understand." He whispered softly, his hand caressing the back of your head and playing with the hem of your shirt. He could feel your heart beating against his, body shaking as you held on desperately to his clothes. "I apologize for confessing at such an unpleasant time, for making you go through such a rough actualization of your sexuality..." The rumble of his chest at each word he spoke was enough to reduce your cries into nothingness, sniffling and wiping your tears with your hands.

With a soft grunt, you laid your cheek against his shoulder, completely melting in his arms the both of you got down on the ground, Alhaitham leaning against the tree and you on his lap. "Okay, let's stop apologizing to one another... I think we're even now..." Alhaitham agreed with a nod, keeping you close to him as he watched the fireflies finally disappear into the night, the moon now high above the skies. Pulling your head away from his shoulder, you peered into Alhaitham's eyes, a curious glint in your eyes. "Where did you learn how to kiss like that?" You questioned him, knowing full well that he's never been in a relationship, both due to his personality and adoration towards you. "I read books." His response left you speechless, staring at him with pure disbelief. Alhaitham only raised a brow at you, the corners of his lips curling up into an amused smile. "What? It proved to be effective, right? You were shaking against me after we parted."

Heat blossomed all throughout your face and onto the tips of your ears as you glared daggers at Alhaitham, strongly flustered upon recalling your kiss. True, it did leave you quivering, but he didn't have to rub it in your face! "You fucking nerd..." You grumbled under your breath, slapping a hand on his arm. Stupidly enough, you felt butterflies annoyingly flutter inside your stomach when Alhaitham let out a wholehearted laugh at your reaction, something you haven't heard in ages suddenly emerging out of nowhere. Perhaps it was the influence of the nostalgia of his memorable spot you've revisited after all those years, it was a place where you remember most of his laughs, giggles, and bright smiles.

God, you hated love. It was so sappy and cliche and it makes you impeccably dumb. Ugh. You could feel yourself cringing at the words you were about to say. "Ah but... that was my first kiss, and you can really tell I'm not really good at it..." Alhaitham hummed in acknowledgment, signaling for you to go on. "Could you... teach me how to kiss? Perhaps give me a live demonstration too?" You suggest, your hand cupping his cheek as you adoringly caressed it. A smug smirk stretched his lips as he leaned his face close to yours once more, only inches apart. "Of course, I'll gladly lend my knowledge to such an eager learner."

And with that, Alhaitham pulled you into a slow, passionate, and loving kiss. Two missing pieces finally put together, languidly moving against each other, taking the other deeper to devour more. The faint vibrations of your phone in your pocket were ignored as the minutes went by. You'll apologize to your parents later on, knowing full well that they'd forgive you without a second thought if they knew you were making out with your childhood best friend in your secret spot in the park.

Well, they don't need to know about that part, but you honestly couldn't care less at the moment, too lost in the bliss of finally, through years of obliviousness, being together, as the world intended you to be.

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#yaepublishinghouse #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x male reader #:;marshie.writes #:;oneshots #:;event.writing #:;alhaitham #i want more gay panic fics like this #i think its #very nice to address this kind of coming to terms of your own sexuality #and while this was quick acceptance since its a crack fic #accepting that youre gay and that you're inlove with someone of the same gender can be tough #especially if you grew up in an environment that taught you that being gay would send you to hell #not everyone have the ability of acceptance as others #is just what i think tbh #maybe im just making shit up but thats how i fuckin felt when i realized after years of being transphobic and homophobic (grew up in-#a catholic country) that im transmasc and gay #horrible tbh but when u surround urself wtih ppl who accept for who u are #it gets easy :)#my fav trope in fil media is when a gay character comes out of the closet and everyone's like 'we know' HAHAAHHA #wrote reader like a bl mc...

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stvrchaser · 2 years

Text

last night

( pairing ) : five hargreeves x reader

( about ) : five hargreeves does not dance, but he has to make an exception for the prettiest person in the room on his last night on earth, right?

( warnings ) : profanity, typical pre-apocalyptic angst, right person not enough time trope, some jealous five (or may be that’s a bonus. it’s up to you)

( words ) : 2900

( note ) : i never know how to handle the whole 58-year-old in his 13-year-old body scenario, but for the sake of simplicity let’s just say that the reader is also mentally 50 or so who worked for the Commission. they’ve known each other for like a decade and have been working as partners. anything for a dose of typical old couple sweetness ig <3

You’ve never been to a wedding until now. Fifty-something years of living (because you lost track after that, honestly) and not a single chance to watch a bride walk down the aisle in white, her lover at the altar.

Well, you guess you can thank Sloane and Luther for letting you cross that off your pre-apocalyptic bucket list.

It’s a shame, really, the many decades you’ve lived and wasted. There’s not much time to attend weddings in between assassinations for an organization that’s located outside of the timeline. If only you existed outside of it, too.

It’s a weird topic — one you’ve always found difficult to talk about because, realistically speaking, who else can relate to feeling lonely because they spent years serving a time-traveling agency responsible for maintaining the time-space continuum which practically stripped them of all long-term acquaintances?

Well, there might be one person.

Five Hargreeves has always been a tough code to crack. He isn’t unreadable, per se. He’s just incredibly stubborn. You thought, at first, it might have been a recent development. Maybe the bitterness had come with old age. But seeing as his siblings barely bat an eye to his behavior, after seventeen years of being presumed dead, you figure he’s always been like this.

In his defense, you have a few decades’ worth of tolerance for human interaction. Five likes to think that he isn’t a particularly nasty person. He simply hasn’t found more people worth having around for company. Of course, there is one.

You watch him, standing right next to you in a black suit so similar to his Commission attire it gives you a sense of deja vu. Nothing unpleasant, just yearnful of simpler times. Back then, it had just been the two of you against the world – literally, but it had been fun, nonetheless.

Sloane and Luther do the honors of stepping onto the dancefloor first, followed by Diego and Lila, as the song starts playing.

A couple’s dance in the current state of the universe? Alright, it’s kind of sweet.

“This is officially worse than the apocalypse.” And there he goes, the bright beam of sunshine.

“Right now? Really?” You roll your eyes, disappointed that the moment is ruined. He’s silent for a while, his eyes scanning the room until they land on a bucket of wine and champagne.

“Ah, there we are,” he says to himself. You catch his arm just before he turns away.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“I’m getting wasted,” he shrugged off. “Want anything?” You hit his arm.

“You are not getting wasted on your last night alive!” He laughs it off, like he knows something you don’t. You think he’s probably holding onto a monologue about the benefits of intoxication as opposed to sobriety on an instance as stressful as a Kugelblitz. This wouldn’t exactly be the first time.

In truth, you’re not far off. He would, as a matter of fact, much prefer to numb his mind before Hell freezes over. Of course, not that he would actually be there to watch it happen this time. Stil, he fears the permanence of what’s next to come, and he’s paralyzed by the knowledge that he can’t do anything to stop it.

But Y/N is talking to him, trying to get him to gather whatever’s left of his courage and sanity. You were always doing that. Why were you always doing that?

“What else am I supposed to do? Dance?”

You stay silent, just a second or two, which is apparently enough for Five to figure out that dancing is, in fact, exactly what you’re suggesting.

“You’re kidding.”

“No, no. I’m dead serious.”

“What makes you think I’d want to dance?” It comes out much harsher than he’d intended, and he almost wants to clarify that his question didn’t end in ‘with you’ because he didn’t particularly dislike the scenario if he could enjoy it with you. If only it were under better circumstances.

“You’re a gentleman?”

“We’re too old to be dancing.”

“You’re physically thirteen. Your hip won’t give out if you sway for a few minutes.” He swats your hand away from his arm, his face contorting to a combination of equal exhaustion and exasperation.

His hips might not fail him, but what of the rest of him? Five isn’t sure he can stay upright for too long if the two of you stood any closer together.

“That’s not what I mean. We’re bordering on sixty, Y/N. We have other things to worry about.”

“No, actually, we don’t. We die tomorrow, and correct me if I’m wrong, but that doesn’t exactly give us enough time to worry about retirement or funeral plans.”

“That’s fair, but dancing?” he quips again, like it’s the most ridiculous idea he’s ever heard of. You have the mind to tell him that you’ve successfully arranged a wedding with a few hour’s notice while the rest of the universe perished. How’s that for ridiculous?

“I’m only trying to keep you from getting drunk and doing anything embarrassing.” This startles Five. He’s blacked out before, sure, but he can remember most of everything when he wakes up. Doesn’t he?

“When have I ever done anything like that?”

“Oh, I don’t know. There was that one time you got hammered and professed your undying love for me.”

“What?” Now, you see Lila’s point. Five’s a funny guy. Pissing him off is very therapeutic.

“I’m kidding. You just blacked out and kept saying my name in your sleep.”

“I did not!”

“How would you know? You were asleep.”

“I’m still not dancing.” You flash him a mischievous grin.

It makes him nervous. Nothing good – not by his standards, that is – ever comes from that smile. It’s evil and taunting, founded entirely by malicious intent.

“Oh, I get it! You suck at dancing. The Temps Commission’s best assassin has two left feet! Oh, that’s adorable.” He scoffs, like you’ve said something unbelievable. It’s a fair reaction considering… Well, since when has Five Hargreeves been bad at anything?

“I’m not falling for that.” You place a comforting hand on his waist, bringing him closer. He stares but doesn’t try to pry you off.

He tries not to scream.

“Did you just grab my waist?”

“I’m an affectionate drunk.”

“You’re completely sober.”

“Weddings make me touchy-feely,” you tell him with a grin.

“You can dance with Klaus.” You sigh, withdrawing your arm around him.

If insulting his dancing skills didn’t work, it was time to get serious.

“There’s no need to deny it. Not everyone can be blessed with talent. It isn’t anything to be ashamed of. There was this one guy that took me dancing in ‘62. He was great, but he kept stepping on my right foot. Sometimes, if I shut my eyes, I can still feel it.”

You make a show of lifting your attire just high enough to reveal your shoes, setting your right foot forward. Five eyes you suspiciously.

You did what in ‘62?

“When did that happen?” He prides himself in not sounding too upset, just enough so he could pass it off as disappointment that you’ve wasted time dawdling as opposed to blinding hatred, if you ask.

“A few months ago. Might have been Christmas… no. It was New Year’s Eve, I’m pretty sure. You know, before you came knocking on my door in ‘63 to announce the second apocalypse like the four freaking horsemen. You’re lucky Reginald didn’t make you Number Four, honestly.” Your joke misses him completely. You swear he turns green with envy. It’s absolutely thrilling.

“And you just danced with some random guy?” He calms down a little.

“A very generous lover.”

Lover?! he almost says aloud.

“But, alas, we just weren’t meant to be,” you say dramatically, faking a swoon, and staring into space to mock a pitiful look of longing.

You’re not too surprised to find him trying to link your arms together only seconds later.

“What are you doing?” Five drags you to the dancefloor, an arm hooked with yours.

“Giving you a dance that doesn’t end with your feet swollen.”

“Ah, so you’re doing me a favor?”

“Obviously.”

“Five Hargreeves doing something against his will entirely for someone else’s happiness? My, the world really is ending.”

Not just any ‘someone,’ he thinks. Just you.

“Happiness?” he echoes, sounding impressed. “Good to know you think so highly of me.”

The smug bastard.

“I’m ecstatic! Couldn’t you tell? I’m spending the last dance of my life with a bitter old man simultaneously going through puberty and some male version of menopause.”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the joy radiating from you. My doing, was it?”

“You’re an ass. You’re terrible company. I should have let the other guy keep his spot as my last dance.”

“Weren’t you the one who wanted to dance with me?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather you step on my foot than crush dreams.”

“Oh, now I’m your ‘dream?’”

“No, moron. I wanted to dance. It was on my bucket-list and everything. You don’t happen to know Tango, do you?”

“You have a bucket list?”

Five looks away, hiding the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. It’s a rare treasure to lure any genuine sign of joy from him that doesn’t come in the form of snark and sarcasm. You suppose you’re lucky enough to have seen it multiple times. You might be the luckiest person in the world for being able to have the real thing, time limit aside.

“Some of us have dreams that don’t include dying from alcohol poisoning.”

“Absolutely,” he brushes aside, “What’s next on the list? Eating fries with ice cream? Staying awake through a movie marathon? What beats ‘dancing with someone who won’t break all ten of my toes?’”

Even as you bicker back and forth, you find your fingers intertwined with his. His other hand rests gently on the small of your back and you bring him close with an arm around his shoulder. It’s a wonder how the two of you fit together so naturally, so seamlessly in spite of the way your words constantly clash. He’s composed entirely of rough edges, jagged stone melding with equally stubborn steel. That’s what the two of you have always been like – a symphony of crescendos set to make the world tremble.

It has always been embedded into your mind that if you were destined to bring the world to ruin, you would do it together. But now the two of you will watch as it falls apart, powerless to the ruination of a life you want to conquer. The universe must think itself hilarious.

“What is it? I can practically hear you thinking.”

“I don’t think telepathy is one of your powers.”

“I’m serious, Y/N. What are you thinking?” His brows furrow with concern and you smile because, not that you’ve necessarily forgotten, but it’s a reminder that he cares.

“Nothing.” You shake your head, looking a little dazed. ”But don’t you think… Well… We look kind of funny, don’t we?”

Well, not really. Personally, he thinks you look breathtaking.

“You look terrible. Leave me out of it.” Five smiles. “Honestly, when someone forces you to dance you think they’d at least try not to step on your feet.”

“Oh, Five Hargreeves, you are a man of many, many words. You really know how to flatter a person. Who knew you could be so romantic?” You lift your arm from his shoulder, tousling his perfectly combed hair. He pinches your side in retaliation.

“Hey! Rude!”

“You deserved it.”

“You started it!”

“No, you did. But, alright, I’ll humor you. Why do we look funny?”

“Shit, where should I start? We’re in our late fifties and we look just barely out of middle school.”

“Hm, never would have thought of that.”

“I had to set up a wedding reception in less than a day! Do you know how hard it is to find flowers when the planet is literally falling apart? There is not a single garden within the one-mile radius that’s left around here!”

“I can imagine.” Five is grinning so wide, you’re compelled to act as an extension. It’s like your mouth feels obligated to do the same – to express the utter joy no single person is capable of expressing.

Five doesn’t understand how he can feel so weightless in spite of everything. With one foot in his grave, how is it possible that he feels so delightfully unburdened?

“And you are laughing at my very visible distress! We’re the last of mankind and we’re dancing in fancy suits and dresses in a creepy, ancient hotel like a couple of teenagers at prom! And you find it funny!”

Oh, of course. He feels delighted because you’re here.

“I think you’re funny.”

“I know, I’m hilarious!” Five shakes his head, clearly amused.

“And to think I was actually worried.”

“About me?”

“Who else?” Your eyes soften, an expression clearly screaming awe exchanging any and all concern. His face contorts, nose scrunching the way it always does when he tries to look irritated.

He’s not. He’s wonderful.

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever—”

“Don’t ruin it.”

“Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this.”

“Bickering with you? I’d have to be a lunatic to enjoy that.”

“My point still stands, now with supporting evidence you provided.”

“That’s doesn’t—”

“They were your words! You said them yourself, Five, and I know too goddam well you don’t say anything you don’t mean.”

“And you know me so well, don’t you?” It’s a challenge, maybe even an invitation to drive the conversation closer to the flames, but you feel too tired to pull through. Not of him — never of him. Still, there’s something about knowing that what happens tonight is the end-all-be-all. Is this how you want to spend the last moments of your life? Your last moments with Five? You feel the fire extinguish, tucking away the childishness of the interaction. Instead, you say, as genuinely as you can muster:

“Yeah. I like to think so. I would like to, at the very least.” Five catches the change in your tone – the wistful and longing plea. If you know him, he knows you just as well. Because he cares, no matter how badly he wants to believe otherwise. So he understands what you wish for, hears the grief in your voice because the two of you know that with the world ending there’s no time to get to know each other.

There’s no time to get to love each other — not for the numerous flaws you’ve discovered, and certainly not for those left unveiled.

“Fifty-eight years and it just wasn’t enough, was it?” The two of you share a mutual understanding then, exchanged entirely through glittering eyes under dim lights, that the loss is something for the both of you to mourn.

“Guess not. But that’s just another dream to bury, right?” You try to smile. Really, you do. But Five suddenly looks anguished, maybe because you’d been so quick to admit defeat.

“It shouldn’t have to be. Ten years that I wasted — ten years where you were right there, but I couldn’t be bothered to get my shit together. Fuck, how did we get here?”

“Do you think an entire lifetime would have been enough?” you whisper, hoping that the question won’t sound too grim or lacking faith of what you two could have been. The last thing you want is to make him doubt the reality of what you do have.

“Probably not,” he whispers back, “But it still would have been nice to have that with you.” He sounds so despaired you could weep. “I thought I could, you know. When we got back here, I thought we could start over. I thought I could fix things. Seems like I’m always wrong, nowadays.”

“For what it’s worth, you were right about one thing.” Five chokes out a laugh, low and uncertain.

You hate it.

You want to rid him of doubt and revive the version of him who had been so sure of himself and what the world had to offer. You want the stubborn, unrelenting man with enough willpower to last the both of you for lifetimes.

“I think I’ll need you to remind me when,” he says in a way so devoid of hope that you can hear your heart shatter.

“You were right about you being my dream. You have been… for a long time.”

The dance comes to a halt as Five’s feet remain planted. A handful of emotions flash through his eyes, down the entirety of his face, all far too quickly for you to distinguish. There’s a glimpse of confusion and disbelief, then of something more intense. You’re scared it might be anger or disgust. Or worse, it could be pity.

But then your hands are encased in his, and the gesture is so wonderfully gentle that your anxiety dissipates almost entirely, a fraction only remaining in anticipation for what comes next. You watch as Five battles himself, his grasp tightening with every victory that passes.

Silently, he allows himself reprieve and braces as his walls come down.

You’re her dream, his own voice reverberates in his mind. You have been, for a long time. For what might as well be the first time, he lets go.

“So have you.”

#spreading misery little by little #i don’t know how to write happy endings #five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreaves x reader #number five #the umbrella academy #tua3 #tua season 3 #tua netflix #angst

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