#we have known each other since kindergarten. they held my face and cried and told me that i was love when i was leaving for the last time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unloved-cadillac · 3 years

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So Much For Your Happy Ending. (Levi x Reader)

Summary: a soulmate au where you have matching tattoos that moves around your body.

C/n: let me know how you guys are. I miss you.

Eighteen years old.

That’s when everybody gets their tattoo. Nobody knows exactly how it happens, but all they know is that at the time that you were born on your eighteenth birthday, a beautiful tattoo will form on your left forearm then it will begin to move around your body.

It’s fun sometimes because you could wake up in the morning and see your tattoo plastered on your face, or on your butt cheek. Very odd but fun nonetheless.

You had a blue wing that flapped and “flew” around your body. Your friends always enjoyed watching yours more than their own because yours seemed to listen to you.

“Tell it fly again.” Niccolo says as he looks at the wing, which was currently on your hand. “Okay,” you look at the wing, “fly.” You whisper and it flutters and moves up your arm. “Oooo.” Your friends say in awe of your tattoo. “You got such a cool one, Y/n. I got stuck with a potato. A potato! What the fuck?! I mean, I love cooking, sure. But you would think I’d get a knife or something.” Niccolo says as he drinks his soda. “Oh, Nic. Calm down. You’ll find her soon.” You pat Niccolo’s shoulder and he smiles. “How the hell did that dipshit find his soulmate so quickly? We aren’t even 21 yet.” Niccolo motions to Eren who was sitting with his girlfriend, feeding her fries.

“Well, you have to understand that they have been friends since childhood. They both turned 18 and had the same tattoos. It was sweet actually.” You say and he scoffs. “Cheer up, Nic! Maybe potato girl will show up soon.” Yelena wraps her arms around his shoulders. “But a potato! Seriously?!”

Everyone laughs and you get back to looking at your tattoo. It seemed to twitch every now and then which made you a bit worried because it never did that. But you spoke to it when you were alone. Telling it that wherever that your soulmate was, that you already love them and to be safe. That seemed to calm it down but the worry still hid behind your mind.

Recently, all you have been feeling was sick. Your leg and hands always hurt and you had consistent headaches. It only began a week ago and you even went to the doctors but they couldn’t give a diagnosis. You tried drinking water and pills but it didn’t help.

You decided to try and ignore it, figuring it was probably stress from all the assignments you had, and carried on with your life.

It was a month after your aches and pains began and you were lying in your bed texting your friends. Apparently, Niccolo finally found his soulmate. Her name was Sasha and she loved potatoes.

- Y: When are we meeting her?

- N: soon. How’s tomorrow?

- Y: sounds good. Y/n?

- You: yeah. Perfect.

You turn your phone off and lay down. Your tattoo began to flinch again and, maybe your mind was playing tricks on you, but it seemed like it’s royal blue color began to fade. You shook your head and fell asleep.

~~~~

‘Is he okay?’

‘No. He’s in critical condition. The car slammed into him and he raptured his whole left ribs and it pierced his internal organs. One being his heart.’

‘Oh my god. What now? Can you save him?’

‘We have to wait and see. We removed the bits and pieces but it was pierced too far in.’

The friends and family sat down and a blond boy held his mother as she cried. He looked down on his brother who had an oxygen tube in his mouth and bandages around him.

His tattoo beginning to fade.

~~~~

“Ladies, this is Sasha. Sasha, these are my two girls who I’ve known since kindergarten. Yelena and Y/n.” Niccolo introduces the two of you to the smiling brunette and she hugged you. “It’s so lovely to meet you.” She says and Yelena laughs. “Lovely to meet you too, Sasha. Are you hungry?” Yelena asks and Sasha’s eyes brighten up. “Always. Niccolo cooked me some his favorite dishes and it was amazing. I heard there’s a really cool restaurant on this side of town.” Sasha says and you nod. “Yeah. It has one, if not the best, seafood. Shall we?” You motion for all of them to walk and the four of you go to the restaurant.

Niccolo walked in front with Sasha while Yelena walked with you behind them. “You okay?” Yelena asks you as you look at your tattoo. “I don’t know. I feel..off? I don’t know. Something’s wrong.”

“Is it your soulmate?”

You shrug your shoulders and Yelena places her hand on your head. “Your temp is a bit high. Have something cold when we get to the restaurant.” You nod and Yelena hugs your shoulders. “It’ll be okay.”

In the restaurant, which was way more exquisite and classy than you thought it was, the four of you say and ordered. Niccolo insisted on getting only the best for Sasha since she had to leave in two days.

“What are you studying, Sasha?” You ask as you sip your water. “I’m majoring in art. I wanted to become a chef but the odds were always against me. Figures since this one is studying to be one.” She nudges Niccolo who had a faint blush on. “Let‘s see your tattoos.” Yelena says and they both show their forearms.

The potato’s both had flowers on it. Sasha’s were green, Niccolo’s favorite color, and Niccolo’s had red, Sasha’s favorite. “I read an article saying that when you meet your soulmate, it grows flowers and doesn’t move anymore. But the flowers thing isn’t consistent with everyone.” Niccolo says and looks at the two of you. “Ah. Nice.” Yelena says and you nod.

“Let’s see yours!” Sasha says and you roll up your sleeve and Yelena shows her arm. She had a butterfly, but it’s wings were multi colored. “That’s so beautiful, Yelena.” Sasha compliments her and Yelena smiles. “I bet my soulmate is so beautiful. And calm. Like a butterfly.” Yelena gets lost in thought and Niccolo slaps her hand. “Ow!” “Snap out of it.” He jokes and she shows her tongue at him.

“What about yours, Y/n?”

You look on your left arm to see it still twitching and flinching and when you show Sasha, her head tilts. It’s quiet and then she gasps softly. “What?” You ask and she looks up at you, with a shock. “Y/n, have you been feeling sick or like, aching everywhere?” Sasha asks and you nod. “Yeah. Why?”

Sasha scratches her head and looks at Niccolo like she was about to cry. “Honey, what’s wrong?” He cups her cheek and then she looks at you. “Y/n. I have a friend. He was in a terrible car accident a few days ago. He’s tattoo was a blue wing just like yours on his arm.” She points to yours and you gasp. “Levi is a great guy. But the accident..it was so bad. The doctors don’t think he’ll make it.” She whispers and you wake up suddenly. “No. H-How? I, this can’t be real. Where is he, Sasha? Which hospital?” You ask and she tells you the hospital is in the middle of town.

You didn’t wait. You ran outside the restaurant straight to a taxi. You told the driver your destination and your phone rings. “Yeah?” You answer not looking at the caller ID. “Y/n. His name is Levi Ackerman. Ask for that name. I’ll meet you there.” Yelena tells you and you cut the call.

Few minutes passed and you finally went to the hospital. Your body became numb all of a sudden. You took whatever strength you could and rant o the receptionist. “L-Levi Ackerman. I need to see him. What room is he in?” You ask and the lady asks who you are and if you’re family.

“I-I’M HIS SOULMATE! Please let me see him!”

When she told you the room, you ran to it. You started to burn and ache but finally, after flights of stairs, you made it to him.

Some people stood outside the room and you sniff as your tears started to fall. A lady with glasses approached you.

“Who are you?” She asks, her voice coarse and rough. “I’m Y/n L/n. I’m here for Levi Ackerman.”

The lady nods and looks at your neck when her eyes widen. “Your tattoo...you’re his..?” She asks softly and you nod. Another boy comes out of the room and his eyes land on you. Suddenly, a pain shoots through your body, especially your left side and you fall to the floor clutching your chest.

“Please. L-Let me see him.” You breathe out and Hange helps you up. When the boy and her take you to Levi, you felt your heart stop.

An older woman cried as she held the unconscious man’s hand and the sound of a beep filled the room. You looked at him and stood next to him as you tried to understand what the hell is happening.

The Doctor comes rushing in, pushing everyone aside and begins to perform CPR on Levi but unfortunately, it was too late. The woman looked at you while you stared at your tattoo.

It was gone.

It had turned into ash and fell off of your body and you looked up to see Levi. You slowly made your way, on stumbling feet, and sat next to him.

Your eyes searched his body and you just saw his royal blue wing fade and disappear. Your eyes widen and you couldn’t help but cry. “No..” you whisper as you hold his hand.

“No. No this can’t be real. We didn’t even meet yet! I didn’t hear your voice yet! I didn’t see your eyes! Levi! You can’t leave me so soon! Please! I didn’t even get to tell you that I love you. We didn’t get to have a date! Please! Come back!”

You cry as you rest your head on his chest, praying you will hear his heartbeat. He was still warm. He felt like home already. You meant to be in his arms. But not like this. Not when he didn’t wrap them around you. Not without him kissing your head and telling you that he loved you. Not like this.

You hugged him for one last time before waking up and looking at his face. Even though he had so much of bruises and scars, he was so handsome. His black hair and pink lips. Even though they were bruised, you still leaned up and laid a gentle kiss on them.

“I love you.”

The nurses came and took Levi away and you left standing there while the older woman looked at you. “Excuse me?” She calls and you look at her. “I’m Levi’s mother, Kuchel. I heard you said that you didn’t meet him yet?” She asks and you nod. Her eyes swell up with tears. “Oh, sweetheart.” She brings you in for a hug as you both cried in each other’s embrace.

Yelena, Niccolo and Sasha were there too. And it sucked that they had to see you like this. Sasha saw Connie, Jean and Hange and introduced Niccolo and Yelena to them. “Y/n just lost her soulmate, didn’t she?” Niccolo asks and they nod. “It was no use. He slipped into a comma and the injuries were far to lethal. It all happened so fast.” Jean whispers as he looks at you and Kuchel speak.

Later that night, you sat against your bedroom window and looked out at the sky. The night sky had no stars and it was pitch black. It’s like the world new that you had just lost your other half and decided to mourn with you.

Not everyone got to meet their soulmate. And that was the harsh reality that you had to live with.

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #captain levi #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aot fanfiction #levi heichou #aot x reader #snk fanfiction #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #captain levi fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction

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uwuwriting · 4 years

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Maybe pregnant hcs for Todoroki, Iida, Shinsou and Amajiki???💓💓💓💓💓

-Ohoho!!!! This right here just melts my hurt. Even thinking about it makes me weak.Plus a little heads up, everyone is having daughters cause I’m weak to the knees with the thought of these four and their babygirls so be prepared. Hope I don’t disappoint.💖💖💖

*All characters are aged up so around the ages of 20-25 and up*

Todoroki Shouto

-You and Shouto have been together since your second year in UA.

-You got married when you both got well acquainted with the hero life and now live a happy , yet busy, life in an apartment near his mom’s house.

-We know that this boy would want his family to be close to him and the fact that you get along with everyone fills his heart with so much love.

-You two never really talked about children.

-Maybe a few suggestions of having a child in the future but nothing serious.

-Que the morning sickness.

-Shouto was really worried about you, I mean look at you.

-You’re emptying your guts in the toilet every single morning.

-You can’t eat most foods that you used to like and have a weird craving for tuna yogurt?!

-He doesn’t want to leave the house, he even convinced you to take some days off and try to relax.

-Give your body rest.

-He promised to get some days off himself to take care of you.

-You had your suspicions, tbh.

-You just didn’t tell him.

-Whether that was to not get his hopes up or to post pone the heartbreak you didn’t really know.

-So what if you were mildly panicking over the fact that the 5 pregnancy tests you just took were all positive.

-It was the first day of your mini ‘vacation’ and thankfully Shouto had been called in today.

-Because you’re panicking and legit losing your shit over this, you call....Rei.

-Okay maybe it wasn’t the best course of action considering you were on the verge of cardiac arrest, but what can you do.

-You asked her if she was home and if you could stop by.

-Of course she said yes, delighted to see you and mentioned that Fuyumi was also going to stop by in around an hour.

-You made your way to her house, arriving just as Fuyumi was pulling into the drive way.

-After greeting each other and going inside, you took your seats in the living room and waited for Rei to make some tea.

-Fuyumi was going on and on about what the kids at the kindergarten were doing and how cute some of them were being.

-Neither of the Todoroki women had missed your puffy eyes or how your smile would constantly waver, but they decided to let you tell them on your own accord.

-Once Rei joined you in the living room, they both turned to you.

- “So how have you been Y/n, dear?” Rei said watching you really closely.

-You looked down, feeling hot tears starting to form in your eyes and your throat tightening painfully.

-Fuyumi moved closer to you while Rei draped an arm around your shoulders which were shacking at the moment.

- “I-I’m p-pregnant.” it was barely a whisper, but they heard it alright.

-Mom mode activated 2x.

-They reassured you that everything was going to be fine and how lucky you are.

-They repeatedly said how excited Shouto will be and what of a push over of a dad he would become.

-After 4 long hours of baby talk, you returned home, collapsing on the sofa before passing out for a good 3 hour nap.

-When you woke up, Shouto was home and sitting next to you weaving his fingers absentmindedly through your hair.

- “Hey there sleepyhead.”

-How could his voice be so soft!?!?

-You buried your face into the blanket, which really confused him, I mean...what did he do?

- “We have a problem...” pause....awkward silence.... “I’m pregnant.”

-*Windows noises*

-After the mild stroke, he lifted you up so you were looking at him and just stared at you.

-Those seconds that he just looked at you felt like eternity.

-The torture ended however, when he lowered his head to your stomach and lifting your shirt, placed a small kiss right under your belly button.

- “Hey there, snowflake. Nice to meet you.”

-And with that, 9 exhausting months started full of mood swings, weird cravings, back rubs and a never ending list of baby names.

-You two learned you were having twins on your fifth appointment, but you decided to keep the gender a surprise.

-On a cold January night your two girls were brought into the world and it was one of the few times you had seen Endeavour and Natsuo in the same room bawling their eyes out.

-Your white haired baby was named Rei *after her grandmother* while your mixed red and h/c babygirl Ren.

-When Shouto held them for the first time, you thought he was going to have a mental breakdown.

-He’s a total push over and your girls are daddy’s girls to the core.

-He’s the best dad they could ask for.

Iida Tenya

-You and Tenya have been married for 6 years now and have been trying endlessly for a baby.

-You both agreed that you were ready for the responsibility and that having a little Tenya running around the house sounded like a great idea.

-Saying that you were exhausted form the attempts was an understatement.

-Tenya had incredible stamina and even more libido, so you can safely assume that during the week long process of baby making you couldn’t walk straight.

-However, your little shenanigans stopped when your doctor delivered you the news.

-You had been hit by a blood related quirk while dealing with a villain and had to get a check up afterwards.

-You were given a scolding the moment you saw your doctor because why aren’t you in desk duty you RASCAL!?

-You were confused beyond belief and it was written all over your face.

- “You don’t know do you?”

-Le sigh.

- “Mrs. Iida I’m happy to announce you that you’re expecting, so that means you are to be put in desk duty for the next 4 months or else I’m making sure you don’t leave the house for a good 9 months.”

-You. Were. Ecstatic.

-You ran to Tenya’s agency, bringing down the damned door to his office giving the man a heart attack.

- “Y/n what’s-”

- “I’M PREGNANT!”

-Que ecstatic air chopping.

-Tenya went into full dad mode during those 9 months.

-Buttt he’s also kinda nervous.

-Nervous like Tamaki in a crowd level nervous.

-You get the image.

-You have anything you want whenever you want it.

-The nursery is done the moment you find out you are having a gilr.

-Unlike Todoroki he isn’t patient enough to keep the gender a secret.

-When the day arrives, you’re just chilling outside with him when you nonchalantly blurt out ‘my waters broke’.

-....oh...oH.....OHSHIIIIIIIT.

- “WHY ARE YOU SO CALM?! GET UP! ARE YOU IN PAIN? CAN YOU WALK!?”

-This goes on until you are screaming and crushing his hand in the delivery room.

-Your little girl is born and she’s a carbon copy of Tenya.

-Same colored hair and eyes.

-The face structure looks like you.

-She has your nose and mouth, along with your eyebrows but apart from that she’s a mini genderbend Tenya.

-Because she was born early in the morning you decided to change her name and so little Asami Tenya was officially a part of this world.

-Tenya cried.

-You cried.

-Asami cried.

-You were one happy crying family.

Shinsou Hitoshi

-You and Hitoshi have been together for two years now, but you haven’t put a ring on it.

-Sure you live together and act like a married couple already but you’re not Mrs.Shinsou.....yet.

-You have been feeling strange for days now and your period was late which never happens.

-You are panicking but unlike Shouto you two aren’t married.

-He can leave with almost no complications.

-You were his girlfriend not his wife.

-The pregnancy tests you had taken were mocking you from the bathroom sink and your poor hormone ridden mind couldn’t handle the stress.

-You cried a river until you heard keys jiggling and HItoshi’s iconic ‘Kitten, I’m home!’

-You couldn’t face him like this.

-In a haste you shoved the tests into the laundry basket along with their packages and covered them with some sheets.

-Fixing your hair and washing your face, you straightened and walked out the door.

-After greeting Hitoshi with a kiss you calmly told him to go get ready while you made him something to eat.

-Your mind was running laps thinking how you could tell him or how you could solve your little problem as quietly as possible.

-That is until he walked in holding what seemed to be a box.

-A pregnancy test box.

-HOW CAN YOU BE BLIND?

- “Y/n, what’s this?”pause “Are you..?”

-Anddd more crying.

-You sobbed about how sorry you were and how you couldn’t explain how it happened.

-Both of you were so careful, how did this happen???

-After a good 15 minutes of you bawling your eyes out on the kitchen floor while Hitoshi was trying to calm you down, you finally stopped at the sound of his chuckle.

- “Well, damn kitten, your surprise definitely beat mine.”

-Then he pulled a small velvet box from his pocket and watched you closely.

-Now you are Mrs.Shinsou.

-These 9 months weren’t as bad as you would expect.

-Hitoshi was really good at giving you everything you wanted and during the whole pregnancy you didn’t lift a finger.

-One October night your waters broke and you found yourself in a long procedure of bringing your child into the world.

-Hitoshi was a wreck and had called Aizawa for emotional support who called Hizashi who called Midnight.

-Once you were finished, Hitoshi rushed into your room and found you utterly exhausted.

-He was the first to hold your baby and you have never seen him cry this much in your life.

- “Hello my little Kei.”

-Kei Shinsou was a happy little girl with an amazing father by her side.

Amajiki Tamaki

-Ah love.

-Something Tamaki found during high school and held onto it ever since.

-Now a well known pro hero, Suneater was more than happy with his life with you.

-He always wanted a little something more but never expressed it.

-He loved the idea of having a mini you running around the living room or waking him up in the morning with little squeals and kisses.

-He loved you to the moon and back, more than life itself but having a kid with you sparked a whole new sensation in him.

-So he tried to be sly about it.

-Forgetting the condoms or to pull out.

-You not being able to find your pills.

-A whole lot of fun.

-You were newly weds and your libidos were high af and with the prospect of children on the table Tamaki became 10x more driven and horny.

-So you weren’t all that surprised when your doctor gave you the news.

-You had gone for a plain old check up when he came into the room with a bright smile on his face and congratulations falling like a waterfall from his mouth.

-Once back home you put your plan in motion.

-You had a feeling Tamaki was trying to knock you up for some time now.

-He couldn’t forget to pull out every time like come on.

-But you were fine with it since you too wanted a kid with him.

-You just would’ve liked a little heads up first.

-You made your little bun and put it in the oven.

-And waited.

-Until finally Tamaki walked through the door, a smile gracing his features as he made his way to you.

- “Hey bunny.”

-Giving him a quick peck you told him to check the oven real quick to make sure the food was all good.

-He obliged, walking to the kitchen and seeing the sole bun sitting in the oven.

-He was beyond confused on why you would only make one bun in the oven and not more, I mean you are two peop- ohhhh.

-OH.

-He did it.

-He let the news settle in before going back to you.

- “Are you sure?” nod “100% sure?” another nod.

-At that he fell to his knees in front of you, attacking your stomach with kisses and I love yous.

-To whom they were directed you couldn’t actually tell but you were happy either way.

-Calls the baby butterfly.

-Makes the whole nursery along with Mirio who is ecstatic.

-Butterfly themed baby room.

-Expect many back and belly rubs along with Tamaki coming home early because Fatgum cannot allow him to stay at work when he’s preparing for a baby.

-When your waters break you are buying some onesies with small octopuses on them.

-You have never been taken to the hospital so fast in your whole hero career.

-After many painful and stressful hours, your baby girl is born and she’s stunning.

-She has Tama’s ears and hair but your eyes and nose.

-She’s a perfect mix.

-The Big 3 cry as a team.

-When she’s given to him, Tamaki just cry laughs at how gorgeous she’s.

-Many thank yous are exchanged.

- Cho Amajiki.

-Tamaki cannot stop repeating the name even after they have taken her away.

-He curls on the chair next to you, holding your hand the whole night, falling into a deep sleep, imaging his new life with his little butterfly.

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lune-hime · 3 years

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Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 7

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tulipa esperanto ~ A tulip whose flaming petals sprout from a lush green base, signaling growth and the washing away of lingering burdens.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

“Thank you both for waiting! I’m just about done.” Felicia chimed from the stove as Levi entered the house. The pleasant smell of fried bread and pork mingled with the freshness of the tulips to create a scent he could only describe as being homey.

“We had no choice but to be occupied.” Oma grumbled from the dining room, one of the spaces Levi had yet to explore. He wandered into the kitchen after removing his shoes and observed Felicia’s bustling and extremely organized methodology. The pan bopped to the rhythm of her wrist while the kettle whistled in melodic time.

“It’s a shame we didn’t have time for tea. We’ll do it after we eat, then.” Oma called, leaning on the doorway that connected the kitchen to the dining room. Levi nodded and clasped his hands behind his back as he awkwardly lingered on the sidelines of the culinary bustle. His languid gaze drifted to the many framed photos that hung on the only wall not covered with ornate gold trinkets or the weaving vines of plants. His eyebrows furrowed as he observed a common theme.

So many of these photos of you were with that hard headed, horse-faced pain in the ass. From what you had told Levi, you had no memory of life without Jean. That he, Oma, and Felicia had been the only constant presences in your life since you were a child. Why did he feel a pang of jealousy? That was a petty emotion.

Oma had placed delicate plaques at the bottom of each frame that accompanied the memory. Levi wouldn’t have pegged her as someone so sentimental.

First Day of Kindergarten

“We’re going to be late, mommy!!” You wailed as your legs jittered like an excited shore bird. Jean stood beside you and rolled his eyes as your anticipation made your connected arms wiggle like a cooked noodle.

“Yes, yes I know. If I could just get this thing-okay, all set, smile big cuties!” Your mother’s gentle voice sang as she clicked the shutter. Jean immediately got over his minor annoyance and the two of you beamed at the camera.

“Lumine, the school bell’s ringing.” Oma chided lightly at her daughter in law.

Levi adored how your wide grin looked too big to be contained by your tiny cheeks.

Noel

“Jean are you even eating in the corps? You look like a twig when you need to be looking like a sturdy branch.” Oma chided as she shuttled more spaetzle onto Jean’s plate. Jean breathed a nervous laugh at her blunt comment.

“Well their food isn’t as good as yours is, Oma.” Jean replied as he gratefully took the plate. You shuffled past the two of them in the busy kitchen to pour yourself a glass of spiced wine.

“Get on my level, noodle-boy.” You teased, bringing your free arm up and flexing your defined muscles as the other held the ladle of wine. Jean threw an arm around your shoulder and squeezed, demonstrating that his noodle arms held more power than they let on.

Felicia had clicked the shutter just as laughter bloomed on your faces and your glass looked dangerously close to spilling over in festive happiness.

Apple Picking

“Freyr, move a little over to the left.” Oma instructed her son. Freyr took a step sideways and bounced, causing you to fly upwards in glee from your resting place on his shoulders. You grasped the sides of his chin as you both grinned at the camera. Crows flew from the canopy of the lush apple orchard behind you.

Levi drank in the features of your father as if he was studying a work of art. He was very tall, strongly built, and had a charisma about him that Levi wagered is why he was so popular in the capital. He resembled more of a lumberjack than a government official. His jawline was hard, like it was curvetted by a steel knife. But his eyes held a softness just like your own.

When Levi’s eyes drifted to the last photo in the row, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He gulped as he let the contents of the picturesque scene sink in. The four individuals looked lively and ecstatic as they proudly showed off their record breaking salmon catch. Your father, Freyr, stood on the far right holding the fish’s head with a confident smirk. You, having to be around 12, stood next to him inwards. Your weak grip was feigning your support of the giant creature’s weight. To the far left your uncle Rall stood perched with the tail held to his chest as he wore a more modest smile than his brother-in-law. Levi felt his arteries clench around his throbbing heart when he gazed upon the girl only a few years older than you at your side. The sweetness of her expression poured icy flames onto Levi’s conscience.

Petra and Y/N’s Catch

Levi felt as if he were the fish in your hands; milky eyed and cold scaled. He was momentarily sent spiraling into his guilt.

“Jean has grown quite handsome now hasn’t he...” Felicia chirped. Levi blinked at the proximity of her bubbly comment as it punched him from his daze. She appeared at his side with their shoulders centimeters from touching.

“You’ve always liked younger men, haven't you?” Oma snickered as she rummaged through the cupboard.

“Hey! I’m not that old Frau Vogel.” Felicia justified with a playful pout. She turned on her heels to grab the dishes from Oma’s hold but was gently slapped away by the determined old woman.

“Yes but you’ve known the boy since he was fresh out of diapers.” Oma quipped back. “Now if you’re done viewing the art gallery of my life, we have dinner to eat.”

The dining room seemed to glow amber. The walls were dressed with a deep cherry wood, carved with grand scenes of folklore that Levi wasn’t familiar with. The table and chairs were no less intricately carved and were birthed of that same rich wood. The table was fit for a family of high standing, its length providing the space to entertain many guests.

Felicia had set the table so that the three of you were sitting close together, leaving a vast empty space for ghosts to join. Levi wondered what kinds of people used to sit there. He let his mind be tempted with that notion as he gradually checked out of the conversation.

If she used to sit there.

After their meal, Levi was left with that satisfactory warmth he felt the day before. He gave his shoulder a good stretch when Oma returned from clearing the dishes.

“How about sitting down with an old woman for tea now?” She said with a small smile.

“Sure.” Levi responded softly. Oma hummed and faded back into the kitchen.

“Felicia went to go check on Y/N and insisted on doing housework.” Oma explained as she gathered the tea time materials.

“So we have a bit of peace-and-quiet time.” She added as she placed two cups of beautiful ivory china on the tea tray next to the tin of Queen Mary leaves.

Oma led the way to the living room which, to his fading surprise, was just as intricately decorated as the rest of the house. Arched windows that stretched from the floor to the ceiling displayed the forest to the back of the estate while a grand fireplace framed with pale brick lay in front of the opposite wall. Artwork, photos, and momentos painted all the walls to give it a cozy atmosphere that Levi was still getting used to. Oma placed the tea tray on the coffee table and sat down on one of the long, plush settees. She patted the cushion and Levi joined her, taking a seat on the other end of the couch.

An arid silence passed by them as Oma delicately poured the tea into each cup. He was hyper aware now of his past choice during that expedition. Whether it was a mistake or not. He was painfully cognizant of his absence. Sure Levi was curt, at times off putting, and cautiously intense with people. But his immense guilt for what happened to his squad was an underlying and consistent fuel for his awkwardness around your grandmother. It remained attached to him like a fifth limb, a presence that was always lurking even at the smallest intensities. Your love helped, eventually filling the gaping hole that had been carved there. But a hole is still a hole, forever a crevasse that would be a permanent addition to his soul.

He was deeply afraid to bring it up. Afraid of digging into old wounds, afraid of facing more of her family, afraid that your grandmother would deem him unfit to protect you. To call it an elephant in the room was a severe understatement. The unspoken truth was more the size of a beached whale. He had stopped seeing their ghosts in his own shadow. But even now seeing the familial resemblance of her in Oma he suddenly couldn’t bear to meet her eyes.

“I don’t blame you, Levi.” She said as softly as the clank of the teapot returning to the tray. Levi’s insides seized but he maintained his composure. She leaned back into the cushions with a sigh. When she craned her head to meet his eyes, his gaze remained fixed on the lone tea cup on the tray.

“For Petra.” Her name fell off Oma’s lips with a delicateness that made Levi’s throat itch with impending shame. “I saw you looking at her photo.”

The itch expanded to an inflation that embedded his incoming breath into the folds of his esophagus.

↞♞♘↠

Your body shivered in the remnants of your hysterical cries. You wished the sadness could have been swept up in the powerful current of your tears but it clung to you like a jagged rock resting just under the rippling water’s surface. Her absence felt like a vital organ had been forcibly taken from your body and the thief hadn’t bothered to stitch you up properly.

“Levi-” You breathed, voice heavy with the aftermath of your latest breakdown. It felt like a tiring journey from the empty bedroom to his office.

Earlier you had held each other, wept with one another, and began grieving together. But as the hours grew on Levi had drawn more reclusive. He had evicted himself from the bed in your fatigue and had resigned to his office chair. The form that occupied the space you almost didn't recognize. He sat deeply reclined in the chair and allowed the material to swallow him. His head dangled limply off his right shoulder, clouded eyes looking at nothing and everything at once. The only sign of vitality in this lifeless shell was the small puffs of air that left his nose.

It was fresh. Painfully fresh. Like a band aid that had ripped off multiple layers of skin. But you needed him right now and you knew he needed you too. The sudden loss of Petra was boring into you. You couldn’t imagine that loss times three that he was experiencing.

“Please we need to talk.” You whimpered as you slowly padded towards his crumpled stature. His swollen eyes and bloodshot whites betrayed his marbled features. He was hesitant to reach for you, to hold you, to touch you. He was sure a part of you must have despised him. Through his own pulsations of pain he could see your own distress. He desperately wanted to be there for you, to wipe away all that ailed you. But how could he do that when he couldn’t even wipe the pain from himself? Especially when he had a hand in inflicting such devastation onto you.

He could never forgive himself for that. For what he did to any of you.

Yet when you unfurled his limbs, climbed into his lap, and encircled yourself into his embrace he exhaled and held you right back.

“Don’t hide from me.” You said with an insatiable quiver. You felt Levi’s arms loosen and begin to pull away as you rested your head in the crook of his neck.

“Please...don’t.” You pleaded, desperate for his comfort. You quickly grabbed his wrists and placed them back along your spine. Levi breathed in frustration but didn’t move to withdraw himself again.

“There’s nothing I can do to bring them back.” He stated with a hopeless gravel.

“I know.” You replied weakly. Levi’s shoulder tingled with fresh tears. He squeezed his eyes shut in self disdain when he began to feel your shaking.

“You must deteste me.” He hummed dryly as the obsessive images of his fallen squad drew more tears from him once more. Each time he thought he was done crying their lifeless bodies bombarded him with more waterworks.

“Levi-” You cried as a sob raked your body.

“How could you even stand to be around me after what I did?” Levi bitterly pushed out as he tasted the salty flow of droplets.

“Shut up!” You coughed, sitting straight up in his lap to look him in the eyes. Your emotions were short circuiting and your patience was running thin for his blame but you hadn’t intended for your reply to come out so aggressive.

Your hands pushed down on his chest as your eyes fluttered shut. You took a moment to take in a deep, albeit ragged, breath. When your eyes opened Levi was fixated on the floor. You grasped his head between your hands and rectified his deflated body.

Your movement forced him to look at you, the two of you exchanging expressions beaten-down by sadness and frustration.

Thinking of the words you were about to formulate spurred more pressure behind your eyes before you articulated them. What was left of Levi's composure fractured as he began to drown in your sorrowful orbs.

You brushed his cheek to keep the both of you from floating away like paper lanterns. You could have lost each other out there today as well as your many comrades and the smoothness of his skin against your thumb kept you in this reality.

This was not the time for conversation, you had already had that. Already had assured him that their passing wasn’t his fault. That, sure if he was there maybe things would have been different but that his actions didn’t dictate their deaths. Telling him again would only be beating a dead horse and cause you both more anguish. The two of you were too weak for that right now.

“You trust me.” You uttered those words as a statement without a hint of question.

Levi nodded instantly. The motion was anamatronic-esque as he struggled to stay afloat.

“I’m here.” You stated softly, taking his hand and placing it directly over your overworked heart. A wave of calm washed over him as he watched his palm move with the deep rhythm of your breathing.

“You’re here.” You continued with a sniffle. You placed your hand on his chest, sighing in comfort as he breathed life into your palm.

“And if we focus on the what if’s we’re going to be hopeless forever.” You spoke the words with vulnerability that betrayed their prowess.

That shattered him.

You watched as his face scrunched with all the emotion he had hid this morning. His brow sloped into his quivering lip and he let out a helpless yelp. He was always trying to not feel. But he could only feign numbness until it embedded itself into everything he did. The void he was carrying now overflowed with singeing emotion that he needed to feel.

For them.

For you.

For himself.

Seeing him so broken caused you to crack too. But for Levi, the gruesome scenes that were replaying on a brutal loop were dulled by the warmth of your hand on his chest, the welcome pressure of your thighs against his, and perhaps the most by your beautiful eyes that despite being ravaged by tears were like a shining beacon in the turbulent storm.

He removed your hand from his chest and took them into his own. He raised your hands to his lips and pressed salted kisses to them.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He croaked and intertwined his fingers with yours with such a force that his knuckles grew white. He begged for your forgiveness, bathed in your light to douse his sinful acts. For you must have been a saint to not have casted him out by now.

He kept apologizing because there was nothing else he could do. He lamented that he wasn’t quick enough. That their last moments were spent in agony and terror. That their deaths not only affected him but you as well.

Your limbs were entangled and foreheads were buried in shoulders for an uncountable amount of time. The two of you slowly dragged one another out of the suffocating mud of the expedition and into the present moment. When tears had dried and embraces grown less feverous, you spoke up.

“Erwin is allowing me to go home for a few days.” You announced with a sad smile.

Levi hummed weakly as he ghosted his fingers along your scalp.

“Do you want to come with me?” Your invite hung on the air as Levi contemplated. He felt bad denying you but there was no way he would be able to face your family right now. That may have been selfish of him, but he just couldn’t.

He bit the inside of his cheek as you craned your neck to regard him. You understood his silence and nuzzled into his shoulder.

“Okay.” You kissed at the spot where his neck met his collarbone.

↞♞♘↠

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Was all that Levi could manage to say. He didn’t know how to make any apology enough for her grandchild’s absence. He felt disgust rise like bile in this throat all over again.

Oma nodded at his condolences and hid her lingering sadness behind seasoned professionalism.

“Thank you. I’m sorry to you too. You lost her just like the rest of us.” She responded with a mature kindness that made Levi want to poke his eyes out with self-loathing. If the loss hurt him beyond belief, he would never be able to know the extent of Oma’s pain, your pain, and Petra’s parents’ pain.

“I can see that you blame yourself.” Oma inferred with a caring tone. Levi’s hardened gaze remained on the table.

“I know what it’s like to lead a squadron. I know the helpless feeling of someone slipping through your fingers too quickly to catch them.” Oma consoled with a genuine seriousness that made Levi’s eyes flick up to hers. She sighed and placed her tea cup down.

Levi didn’t move as she scooched closer to place a hand over his. His fingers twitched at the calloused pads of her withered hand encircled his.

“It was one year into my promotion to a unit captain. I remember that day so vividly; the bitter smell of the canon smoke mixing with Hannes’ ripe gin, the way the wind gently rocked the trees just over wall Maria, the remnants of my throbbing hangover from the previous night’s excursions."

“I had ordered my unit to scale along the wall and raise the new cannons that had been provided the day prior while I joined Pixis at the guard post. We were having our daily banter when a thunderous quaking assaulted our ears and gave us whiplash with how fast we turned towards the wall. A hoard of titans, many of them abnormals, were rushing towards Wall Maria.”

“We had never experienced an attack so fierce, so alarmingly abrupt. My legs couldn’t carry me quickly enough to my unit before the fuckers started hurling themselves at the wall. The clash of skulls against the structure was deafening. Some of my soldiers decided to ascend, to fight them atop the wall and blast their brains out with the cannons. Others decided to take their chances at slashing their necks. However, the ladder couldn’t compete with the assault and soon their screams morphed into stains on stone.”

“After the attack, I too bashed my skull with guilt and regret. If only I had just waited to assign them to that job. What if instead, I told them to take care of the already positioned cannons. But would it have really made any difference? I’ve come to realize I couldn’t have ever anticipated a horror like that.” Oma’s eyes glazed over in sour memory.

“My point is, you can’t dwell on the what-ifs because that’s not how life went or ever will. You have to live with what life gives-and takes-from you.” Oma continued, holding Levi’s stare with one elderly compassion.

“You led them and inspired them to take action. Their sacrifices were just that; sacrifices they were willing to take for something they believed in.”

As she spoke, acute darts dripped in his squad’s long dried blood threatened to pierce the shield he had built up to their intrusions. But her kind words warded them off almost immediately and Levi felt more relieved than he could ever express to hear her sympathy.

“I’m sure you know it never truly goes away. But forgiving yourself for something that was out of your control dulls the sharpness of that blade.” She smiled flatly with soft eyes.

Listening to her story and feeling her presence sparked an understanding in Levi so deep that it felt foreign to him. It wasn’t the surface level sympathy usually set unto him by his comrades. Nor the solace and empathy you provided him. With Oma it was raw, unaltered. She had seemed to mine his soul and recover a luminous diamond out of the charcoal.

She brewed this sensation within him that peeled away the murky veil of his role of a steely captain. Underneath resided a more youthful soldier who still had much to conquer and learn. He realized he wasn’t actually as aged as he was required to act.

The hectic scenarios that had wracked his mind since he arrived at her doorstep were blown away with the gentle breath of her rapport. He squeezed her hand, instantly feeling her squeeze back.

“Thank you. That...means a lot.” He said as the ice on his brow melted. Oma grinned at his instant brightness, clearly pleased that she had managed to crack through his shell.

“What is it?” She asked with a wispy chuckle as she observed Levi’s minute crescent smile.

“Y/N gave me similar advice after it happened.” He confessed, feeling lighter than he had in years.

“Well, good. Means I raised her well.” Oma smirked fondly. She let go of his hand to uptake her tea cup once again.

“I would never let anything happen to Y/N.” Levi professed as he finally grabbed his tea as well. His grip tightened on his cup as if holding it sturdily cemented his promise. Oma’s grin widened at his dedication as they locked eyes once more.

“We are all responsible for ourselves, and all we can do for others is try our best to protect them. You have done just that, son.” She said after a hearty swig of her drink.

“You’ve been so good to both my girls, whether you see it or not. That’s all I could ever dream of in a superior officer, a friend, and a partner.”

Her heartwarming comment did exactly that to Levi. Except instead of blanketing him with a gentle heat it burned his chest all at once. The fire was so powerful that Levi couldn’t subdue the genuine smile that infiltrated his features. It widened his cheeks and parted his chapped lips in a beautiful display of appreciation.

Oma’s eyes widened and she coughed as her sip of tea almost slid down the wrong pipe.

“It’s a shame Y/N only gets to see those smiles.” Her wheeze was followed by a cackle. Her teasing made him roll his eyes but his smile didn’t diminish.

“Don’t tell her or she’ll think I’ve gone soft.” He chuckled himself as rich as the umber liquid in his cup. Oma winked as she took another sip.

“You know, I would have liked to have met you at Petra’s funeral but there wasn’t one. Her mother insisted on keeping things private.” Oma explained with a long exhale. Levi did recall you talking to him about that. Petra’s parents lived quite a distance away from you and Oma and became more private as the two of you grew up.

Levi nodded and pursed his lips. He definitely wouldn’t have been in the right mental space for that. Oma noted his silence and as if afraid he was going to creep back into his iron guard, sighed in contentment.

“I was so proud that she joined your squad.” She was basked in a lovely nostalgic glow as she mused.

“She looked delicate and slight but Petra had a fire in her like I’ve never seen in anyone else.”

“She did.” Levi agreed. His eyes fell to the fireplace as he traced his finger along the ivory rim of his cup. “She was one of the most skilled soldiers I’ve known.”

Oma hummed in agreement.

“Petra spoke so highly of you, you were truly her role model. She was ecstatic when you and Y/N got together. Couldn’t think of a better person for her little cousin.” Oma praised with the enthusiasm of a proud relative.

Levi let out an awkward huff and shook his head lightly as he brought his cup to his lips.

“You know she’s the reason Y/N wanted to join the corps?”

↞♞♘↠

The sun hung low in the sky when Levi’s squad found themselves lazily lounging at one of the picnic tables that framed the sparring area.

“The cadets are going to arrive next week.” Gunther commented idly.

“Yes! My younger cousin is going to be joining the 104th class.” Petra beamed, clearly proud of her relative.

“Another cadet with your same beautiful genes? I can’t wait.” Oluo winked and Petra pursed her lips in unamusement.

“Keep it in your pants, Oluo. Or are you hitting on girls you haven’t even met yet?” Eld chided with a smirk.

“How do you feel about her joining, Petra?” Eld asked more seriously.

“While I’m a bit bittersweet about it, I couldn’t think of another person more capable to be a new recruit.” Petra smiled sadly yet her eyes held excitement at being reunited with her kin.

“Hm, seems like the military runs in your family.” Levi commented, rolling his head against his shoulders to offer a loud crack.

“Yeah, Oma hated it when I joined so I bet she despised it when Y/N decided to fly the nest too.” Petra giggled with the lightness of a sparrow taking flight. A boisterous boom followed by an aggressive order caused the party to direct their attention to the arena.

“And so the hellscape is raised once again.” Gunther nodded to where Shadis was noisily instructing soldiers on where to place the cadet training equipment.

“The stick that’s within his ass imbeds itself deeper each year.” Eld yawned and stretched.

“I’ll be there to fight for her if he takes it too far.” Petra boasted in determination. Her declaration was fiery but her delicate features softened the promise. The special operations squad knew all too well, though, not to underestimate the strength that resided under that cute exterior.

“Hazing is part of the cadet experience.” Gunther shrugged.

“Need to get the nerves burning hot somehow.” Eld added.

“Oh come on, you guys are horrible!” Petra huffed.

“I’ll make sure she’s well taken care of-” Oluo passionately interjected.

“That’s not necessary.” Petra cut him off with a jab to the ribs.

“You’ll back me up, right Levi?” She looked to their captain expectantly while Oluo's groans grew in pitch.

Levi shrugged in indifference. However the way Petra’s eyes glinted with eagerness made him more inclined to agree.

“If she’s not a brat.”

Petra threw him a pout as the crew’s light-hearted jokes floated up to meet the chromatic tendrils of the evening sky.

#levi #levi x reader #LEVI ACKERMAN #AoT #aot x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #snk x reader #snk #shingeki no kyojin #levi/reader #hange zoe #jean kirschstein #bisexual jean

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fantastic-bby · 4 years

Text

Masked

Pairing: (F)Reader x Jinyoung

Word count: 6.7k

Genre: Soulmate!AU, a lil angsty, romance, Kindergarten Teacher!Jinyoung, Single Mom!Reader

Summary: Everyone has a mask. A mask that they cannot remove until they find the person wearing the same exact mask as them; their soulmate. Jinyoung’s birthday rolls around and he thinks he has his whole life together. He’s a kindergarten teacher, he lives with his best friend and his students are like angels to him. But he has it so wrong when he realises his mask bothers him way more than he thought it did...

Warnings: Jinyoung bleeds a bit

Soulmate series: Jaebeom - Strings || Mark - Inked || Jackson - Bubbles || Youngjae - Drawings || BamBam - Footprints || Yugyeom - Pieces

Masterlist

He let out a soft curse when he saw the blue smudge on his white and red fox mask. He knew he should’ve been more careful around the kids, but he couldn’t help himself. Jinyoung quickly wiped the blue fingerprint off of his mask with a wet tissue paper, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when the paint easily came off with water.

Jinyoung quickly made his way back into the kindergarten classroom, not wanting his students to spend too much time without supervision. He thought letting them do painting was a good idea… at least until the children started throwing paint around the classroom at each other. He managed to diffuse the situation and got them more focused on their projects, but most of their mini white aprons and masks were already covered in paint.

“Jinyoung seonsaengnim,” A voice spoke up behind him. He turned around and looked down to see the boy who had pressed his blue finger to his mask standing behind him. “Jun Hee’s sorry Jun Hee touched seonsangnim’s mask with his finger.” The boy apologised, a pout evident on the half of his face that was not covered by his mask.

Jinyoung felt his heart melt at the boy. He always liked to refer to himself in third person, and at first Jinyoung found it a bit weird, but he found it cuter as the days went by.

“Ah, Jun Hee-ah, it’s okay.” Jinyoung crouched down so that he was eye level with the five year old, “Seonsaengnim is not mad.” He reassured him.

“But, but, if your mask looks different, seonsaengnim won’t find his soulmate.” The boy mumbled out and looked like he was going to cry when he looked at his teacher.

“I’m not mad, Jun Hee. It’s okay. Don’t cry and go finish your project, okay?” Jinyoung patted Jun Hee’s brown hair and gently guided the boy back to his round table with the rest of his classmates.

“Seonsaengnim! Hyun Jung put paint in my hair!” One of the students cried out. He quickly made his way over to the two five year old girls, one of them with a handful of paint in her hair.

“Why did you do that?” He scolded Hyun Jun.

“Eun Ha said my painting was ugly.” The girl mumbled out. Jinyoung pursed his lips and crouched in between the two,

“Eun Ha-ya, did you call her painting ugly?” He questioned the girl softly. Eun Ha nodded, her expression completely hidden by her whole face mask. “Why did you say that?” When Eun Ha didn’t respond he let out a soft sigh, “Eun Ha-ya, you shouldn’t say things like that even if you’re feeling upset, okay? It’s not nice.” He scolded her gently.

“I’m sorry.” The girl mumbled out without looking Jinyoung in the eyes.

“Don’t say you’re sorry to me. Tell Hyun Jung you’re sorry.” He moved aside to let the two children talk and soon they were back to being friends, giggling and painting with each other.

“Okay,” Jinyoung moved to the front of the classroom and clapped his hands together, “Who’s finished with their painting?” He asked as he raised his arm up. Half of the class raised their hands up and scurried their way over to proudly show their paintings to their teacher.

“Seonsaengnim! Jae and I made you a special card!” A pair of boys came running up to him and held up the messily painted card. The words ‘Hapy birfday seonsaengnim!’ messily painted on it. Jinyoung’s heart warmed and he swore it melted to the point where it was leaking out of his chest.

“How did you know it was my birthday?” He questioned the two boys when he remembered he never told them his birthday.

“Jackson seonsaengnim put it on the wall!” Jae pointed to the decorated wall at the back of the class. Jinyoung turned to where he was pointing in confusion. When did Jackson come into my class? He questioned when he pushed through some of the manila cards and saw a picture of himself there with his birthday on it.

“Jackson seonsaengnim said we should all wish you on your birthday, so happy birthday Jinyoung seonsaengnim!” Eun Ha excitedly jumped from her seat and ran over to hug his legs. Jinyoung was slightly surprised when the whole class of children came running towards him to hug him and wish him a happy birthday.

Jinyoung stared at them in shock but accepted their hugs nonetheless.

“You’re Jun Hee’s favourite teacher!” Jun Hee excitedly told him.

“Yeah! You’re the nicest!” Another student added. The children continued to spew compliments to him and Jinyoung felt so much love for these kids he crouched down and hugged all of them, not bothering with their paint covered hands staining his black t shirt.

“Thank you.” He happily thanked them as he stood up. He moved over to the front of the class and it turned out that most of them had actually prepared birthday cards for him which they happily handed them to him.

He helped the children clean the paint off of their hands and masks before sending them home when class was over and took his time in clearing up the class. He hummed a tune to himself as he did, clearing up the stray papers and washing the mugs they used for the paint brushes.

“Knock, knock.” A masquerade puppy masked man stuck his head into the empty classroom and walked in when he saw Jinyoung alone. “How was your birthday surprise from the class?”

“Thanks to you, I received many birthday cards from my students. Thank you, Jackson.” Jinyoung happily smiled as he turned around to face his fellow colleague, best friend and flatmate.

“See? It’s a good thing I told them.” He chuckled as he looked through the birthday cards Jinyoung had received from the class. “Your class is cute. My class keeps fighting with each other.” He joked when he read the messages scribbled onto the cards.

“Your class acts like you; chaotic.” He snorted as he stood at the front of the class and scanned the classroom for any mess he had missed. Jackson turned to him and even with his mask covering his eyes, Jinyoung could tell he was raising a brow at him. “I speak the truth.” Jinyoung chuckled as he crossed his arms over his chest.

To be fair, Jackson was a bit of a chaotic teacher compared to Jinyoung. Whenever his kids would fight, he would just give them candy sometimes to make them stop fighting. Which was not exactly the best idea since it would make them so hyper, he would have more trouble controlling them

Jinyoung, on the other hand, was more of a talk-it-out kinda guy. Whenever his kids would fight or be sulky, he would talk to them and encourage them to talk out their issues to find a midpoint. He would only give them candy if they cried when they couldn’t make up.

“Yeah, like your class isn’t chaotic, too.” He huffed out and eyed Jinyoung’s paint covered shirt.

“It’s not like I could stop them. They all came to hug me and wish me happy birthday.” Jinyoung shrugged and raised his arms up in defense. “That bit’s your fault since you let them know my birthday.” He gestured to the picture Jackson had pinned on the wall.

“I thought it would be nice. You don’t celebrate your birthday if Haneul noona and I don’t plan anything for you.” Jackson pointed out in an almost scolding tone.

“I never see it as a big deal.” Jinyoung shrugged.

“Really? Your birthday isn’t a big deal?” He crossed his arms over his chest. Jinyoung responded with another shrug. Jackson let out a sigh and stood up, “Get your stuff, I’m taking you out for a birthday lunch.”

“Jacks-”

“Nope, no declining.” He cut him off by raising his hand up to Jinyoung’s face, “I’m taking you out for a birthday lunch and I’m getting you a birthday present, you can’t stop me.” He left the classroom without another word and Jinyoung let out a sigh, but he still couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face.

Jinyoung loved Jackson to bits even if he wouldn’t express it sometimes. He had known Jackson for years and started working at the kindergarten together, both wanting to pursue their love for teaching and being around children. He was the only friend that Jinyoung really kept around, well, other than Haneul whom they both met when they started working there.

Haneul was there to guide them through their first years working there and soon she became close with the two. They were a bit wary of the black and white tiger masked woman but she proved to be a kind senior and also quite the wild card. She was the person who suggested carpooling since their apartments were nearby, but she was also the person who thought starting a bar fight was a good idea.

Most of the time, Jinyoung prioritized his work rather than his social circle which was the whole reason why he didn’t really have that many friends. He preferred to keep to himself most of the time and he was content with his two colleagues whom he was friends with.

Jinyoung’s reserved personality was also one of the reasons he wasn’t actively looking for his soulmate. He didn’t really want an extra person in his life. What if he wasn’t their soulmate? What if they were enemy soulmates? He didn’t want that kind of stress so he just lived his life, happy with his fox mask adorning his face.

“Where are we going for Jinyoung’s birthday?” Haneul questioned as they climbed into Jackson’s car. “Happy birthday, by the way. I hope your day goes well and that you change out of your paint smeared shirt soon.” She chuckled when she eyed the state his shirt was in.

“My class knew it was my birthday, so they came to hug me while I was painting with them.” Jinyoung explained when he looked down at the handprints and paint smears that covered his shirt.

“Good thing you wore black.” Jackson pointed out as he started driving.

“I planned to wear black for that very reason.” Jinyoung hummed out.

“I’m taking you to your favourite barbeque place. I know how much you like meat.” He glanced over at Jinyoung.

“Your mask should be a tiger mask instead. You eat meat as if you’re starved.” Haneul jokes.

“I’m quite content with my fox mask, thank you very much.” Jinyoung chuckled as he turned around to face Haneul, “Plus, your tiger mask shows your personality. You scare the children, you know.” He joked.

“The kids in my class are like tiny spawns of Satan, they deserve the scare every once in a while.” She playfully rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat.

“How did you even get a job as a kindergarten teacher.” Jackson muttered in disbelief as he glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

“I love kids, my class just acts like demons sometimes.” She shrugged.

“‘Sometimes’ is an understatement.” Jinyoung snorted.

“Yeah, noona, your class hates each other more than mine does.” Jackson laughed.

“They don’t hate each other. They like to betray me.” Haneul rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I once walked in on them all piling on top of you while screaming, ‘off with her head’.” Jinyoung reminded her as he turned around once again to look at her. “What did you do to them?” He raised an eyebrow, playfully accusing her of pissing off her class that time.

“I didn’t do anything.” She scoffed, “I asked them to do maths and they said no and started attacking me.” She grumbled out.

“Yeah, see? That’s what you did. You made them do maths.” Jackson joked. “You know what I learned? Never make children do maths because the last time I tried, they ended up throwing their pencils at each other.” He let out a chuckle.

“Whenever I ask my kids to do math, they do it.” Jinyoung proudly stated.

“Your kids are angels.” He muttered out with a hint of jealousy to his tone.

“It’s not my fault my kids actually like me.” He snickered. Jackson took his right hand off of the wheel and punched Jinyoung in the arm. “Ow! Keep your hands on the wheel or I’ll jump out and none of us will get to eat because you’ll have to drive me to the hospital.” He threatened. Jackson turned over to him, trying to think of a comeback before turning to the road and just muttering curses under his breath.

“We’re here.” Jackson grumbled out as he parked the car. “Curse you and your ability in shutting me up.” He scowled at Jinyoung who smirked at him.

“You have to teach me how you do that.” Haneul snickered as they walked into the restaurant.

“I can’t teach it, I just do it.” Jinyoung shrugged. They sat down at a table and got what Jinyoung would usually get; grilled pork belly.

“God, I can’t believe this place actually has birthday specials.” Jackson groaned as he leaned back in his seat.

“I didn’t even know they give you three portions for the price of one when it’s your birthday. If I knew that, I would’ve actually celebrated my birthday every year.” Jinyoung agreed as he rubbed his stomach.

“We’re not done yet, I hope you have room for cake because I want cake.” Haneul hummed out as she continued to eat.

“How can you eat so much? You’ve eaten almost six portions of pork belly.” Jackson looked at her incredulously. This woman had eaten her three portions and ate whatever Jackson and Jinyoung couldn’t stomach.

“I can eat a lot. You guys never spend a lot of time eating with me, so you never see me eat this much.” She shrugged as she stuffed the final piece of meat into her mouth. “Okay, let’s go. Jinyoung deserves a birthday cake.” She excitedly clapped her hands together and left the table to pay.

“She’s so skinny, where does the meat go?” Jinyoung muttered in disbelief as they watched her.

“I don’t know dude, it’s better not to ask. God, I feel like my stomach’s going to burst.” He let out another groan as he stood up and helped Jinyoung stand up. Haneul returned while slipping her purse back into her bag,

“Okay, let’s go and buy Jinyoung a cake before it gets dark.”

“You’re driving.” Jackson slapped his keys into her hands and the three of them headed out of the restaurant.

»»————-　　————-««

“Don’t forget this.” Haneul handed the box to Jinyoung. Right after they had eaten, Haneul took them to a dessert cafe and ordered bingsu and a cake but since Jackson and Jinyoung were pretty much deemed immobile from eating too much, they had to pack the cake.

“Why don’t you take it?” Jinyoung mumbled out as he turned around to look at her. She furrowed her brows,

“Why me? It’s your birthday cake.” She held out the box to him. Jinyoung hesitated but decided to just take it anyway,

“Thanks for today, Haneul noona.” He smiled at her. She lightly punched his arm and smiled,

“Anything for my boys. Drive safe, Jackson.” She waved at them as she climbed out of the car.

“Bye, Haneul noona!” The two waved at her as Jackson started to drive.

“Did you enjoy your birthday?” Jackson asked, glancing over at Jinyoung.

“Of course. I got to spend the whole day with my favourite things. You two, my class and grilled pork belly.” He chuckled as he leaned back in the seat, ready to just pass out in his bed from their day.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Sometimes I feel like you don’t spend enough time on yourself.” Jackson hummed out. “You’re too hard on yourself sometimes, Jinyoung.”

“Am I?” Jinyoung turned to Jackson to see him nod.

“You need to relax.” He took his hands off of the wheel to show him what relax was but it only stressed Jinyoung out and made him reach over and grab onto the wheel,

“That’s not relaxing.” He snapped. Jackson chuckled at him and placed his hands back onto the wheel.

“What’s your life plan?” He questioned.

“Well, I’ll work as a teacher until I have to retire, then I’ll just work at the library near our place until I die.” Jinyoung shrugged. Jackson frowned slightly,

“What about your soulmate?” He asked.

“What about my soulmate?” He turned to Jackson in confusion.

“Are you planning on looking for them?” He asked. Jinyoung stared at him before turning out to look outside of the window,

“I don’t know. I don’t really feel like letting more people into my life.” He sighed out.

“They’re still your soulmate.” Jackson pointed out.

“Yeah, they are, but you know how I am. It takes a while for me to let someone in and even with you, I only let you in because I’ve known you for so long.” He explained, the corner of his lip lifting slightly.

“Are you going to avoid them then?” Jackson questioned further.

“Well, not really. I’m just not gonna do anything unless they show up, you know?” Jinyoung hummed out, “I’m not going to actively search for them and I guess I’ll just wait and see what the universe has in store for me.”

“Are you not thinking about getting married?” He asked.

“I’m not really bothered by that, I guess.” He shrugged. “I mean, this mask is a bit of a hassle sometimes.” He muttered out as he opened the visor to look into the mirror, “But I’m not as bothered by it as when I was in high school.” He said as he looked at his mask through the mirror. He touched the red nose of the mask and ran his hand over his masked cheekbone.

Jackson parked the car but stayed in the car, turning over to Jinyoung.

“I think I found my soulmate.” He muttered out, causing Jinyoung to turn to face him with wide eyes,

“Really?” Jackson nodded. “Why haven’t you taken off your mask yet?” Jinyoung questioned.

“She has two sides to her mask.” He sighed out, “She works in that cafe,” Jackson pointed into the cafe, the light illuminating the streets. It was already quite dark being the beginning of Autumn. “I looked inside the other day when I was walking past it. She has two sides. I don’t know if I’m the enemy side or the love side.” He bit his lip as he stared into the cafe.

“Why don’t you go find out?” Jinyoung questioned as he looked out towards the cafe as well. “It’s always worth finding out something if it’s about your soulmate.” He hummed out as he opened the car door and stepped out. “Let’s go find out.” He peeked his head back into the car to look at Jackson and gestured his head towards the cafe.

“What?” Jackson’s eyes widened from behind his mask as he watched Jinyoung close the car door and walk casually towards the cafe. He got out of the car and chased after his friend, “Wait, Jinyoung.” He grabbed Jinyoung’s arm once they were standing outside of the cafe. “What if my mask is her enemy?” He questioned doubtfully.

“Jacks, she’s right there. Isn’t it worth it to find out?” Jinyoung reasoned, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, Jackson. If you’re her enemy, I’ll let you live with me rent free until we die, okay?” He joked, trying to lighten the mood but Jackson gave him a look as he crossed his arms over his chest. “That was a bad joke, I’m sorry. But! Let’s just try.” He gave Jackson hopeful eyes.

“Fine, we’ll try.” Jackson gave in and let Jinyoung walk him into the cafe. Standing behind the counter was a girl with a pixie cut wearing a mask with two sides to it. One side being the same dog design as Jackson’s and the other side a black and white lace mask. She looked up when the bell at the door rang as her jaw dropped when she saw Jackson’s mask. “Is that a mortified look or an awed look?” Jackson questioned softly to his friend as they reached the counter.

“Hi, I’m Jinyoung and this is my friend Jackson.” Jinyoung stated simply before backing away from the two. Jackson turned around and pleaded for Jinyoung not to leave but he was quick to run out of the cafe to leave him to talk to the girl. Feeling proud of himself, Jinyoung walked across the street and made his way up the apartment building to his and Jackson’s shared apartment.

Luckily for him, their apartment had the perfect view of the street so that Jinyoung could see when Jackson would come out. After an hour and a half of just staring at the cafe, Jackson was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he had sent Jinyoung a text.

Wang Gae: I’m her soulmate!!!!! :D

Jinyoung smiled widely at the message. He was glad Jackson didn’t back out at the last minute and he decided against waiting up for his flatmate by heading into his bedroom to get sleep.

»»————-　　————-««

Jinyoung stared into the full body mirror of his room, his eyes staring blankly towards his mask. His goddamn mask. He felt cursed with this thing on his face. His hand shakily moved up to his mask and he gripped the edges; he wanted to rip it off.

The digital clock on his desk read 2:49, he had to get up for work in a few hours, but he couldn’t sleep. Not when all he could think about was this damned mask.

He took a deep breath before pulling on the edge, a scream leaving his lips when he did. The pain… it was what he would describe as true agony. The feeling of trying to take his mask off before it’s time, it felt like he was ripping off his own face. But he wasn’t going to give up just yet.

Jinyoung composed himself with deep breaths as he held on both sides of his mask. Why did he suddenly hate his mask? Even he didn’t know. Was it because he knew Jackson was spending the night at his soulmate’s place? No, he was happy that his best friend finally got to take his mask off. Was he scared? Definitely.

He was so scared - terrified even - that he would die wearing this mask. At the moment, he felt as though he was more scared of the mask than death itself. If I take it off, I won’t worry about it too much. He thought to himself.

Jinyoung tightened his grip on the mask, preparing himself for the pain he knew he was going to feel. Even while knowing how painful it would be, he didn’t care; he just wanted the mask off. What he wanted, he was going to get. He was preparing for himself for the grueling pain he was going to put himself through.

He took one final deep breath before pulling on the mask, an agonized scream leaving his lips, but it didn’t stop him. He continued to pull on it. He could feel the pain starting to spread throughout his face and his fingers started feeling warm and wet. His breath hitched in his throat when he looked in the mirror. He felt something wet streaming down the side of his face and through the mirror he saw it; blood.

He felt his vision blur with tears as he looked down at his hands. His fingertips were covered with blood, a teardrop falling from his eye and dropping straight onto his hands. Jinyoung felt his mind wrench in anger and pain at the realisation that the mask had bested him.

Jinyoung’s form crumbled to the ground as he started sobbing, his tears mixing with the blood and making his whole face look like a nightmare. He covered his face with his hands as he sobbed, the blood from his hands starting to stain his white mask but he didn’t care.

When he finally came to, his hands looked as though he had just murdered someone and blood was still dripping from the skin he had actually ripped while trying to pull the mask off. He looked into the mirror shakily and saw the state his face was in.

The white that covered the apples of his cheeks were completely smeared and stained with blood, his jawline had a line on blood running along it and at his chin was a single drop of blood, waiting for gravity to pull it down and onto the ground.

The sight of his fragile state made him release another sob and he brought his knees to his chest as he cried. Maybe he did want to find his soulmate. Whether it was the need to take his mask off or the need to be with his soulmate, he couldn’t tell. He just knew that he was terrified - so very terrified of what the mask has in store for him.

»»————-　　————-««

“Jinyoung, wake the fuck up! We’re going to be late!” Jackson’s voice called through Jinyoung’s bedroom door. Jinyoung let out a groan as he sat up from the floor, the alarm blaring from his phone that was haphazardly placed on his bed the night before. “Jinyoung!” Jackson called once again.

“I’m up!” Jinyoung groggily called back as he stood up. He caught sight of himself from the mirror and had to admit he looked terrible. His arms, neck, jaw and mask were smeared and sticky from the blood and tear mixture and his hair disheveled.

He moved closer to the mirror to check on the wound he had inflicted but to his surprise, his skin was completely fine. His cheeks didn’t feel tender like he thought they would and there was no marking indicating that he had tried to rip his mask off.

Another thump to his door signalled Jackson’s fear of getting to the kindergarten late and Jinyoung jumped when he heard it. He turned around to check the clock and realised he only had less than twenty minutes to get ready. Taking a quick shower and just throwing on his favourite peach coloured hoodie and a pair of jeans, he was ready to go.

Jinyoung decided to just style his hair in the car and opened the door only to have Jackson shoving a paper bag into his hands and head towards the front door all the while with a piece of toast hanging from his mouth.

Jinyoung took a moment before following Jackson out of their apartment - grabbing his coat in the process - and down to his car.

“Wanna explain why you woke up so late? You’re lucky I came over early.” Jackson huffed out as he started driving. Jinyoung stalled his answer as he pulled the visor down and started to do his hair.

“I had a rough night.” He finally answered when he felt Jackson turn to look at him while he was combing his fingers through his hair.

“What happened?” He asked. “Wait, is that blood?!” Jackson’s brows furrowed in panic when he saw a smudge of blood on Jinyoung’s mask. Jinyoung stopped his hands and moved his attention to his mask and saw a tiny red fingerprint on the edge of his mask.

“Shit.” He cursed as he started to wipe it with his fingers, letting out a relieved sigh when he managed to wipe it off. “Okay, so, I tried taking my mask off.” He confessed and turned to Jackson with a sheepish look.

“You WHAT?!” He yelled, the car accidentally swerving, Jinyoung immediately grabbed onto the dashboard when it did,

“Jackson?!” He questioned when he got the car back in control. A horn from a nearby car made Jackson raise his hand in apology to the driver before glancing over at Jinyoung.

“You tried to take your mask off?!” Jackson asked with pure panic and disbelief in his voice. Jinyoung nodded,

“Well, ‘take’ is a bit of an understatement. I tried ripping it off.” He sighed out.

“Jinyoung! How far did you go if there was blood?!” Jackson scolded, “What if you got seriously hurt? What if you had ripped your whole face off and I wasn’t there?” He practically interrogated him.

“Well, it’s a good thing you weren’t home since I was just screaming the entire time.” Jinyoung light heartedly laughed in an attempt to make Jackson laugh but when Jackson glared at him instead he immediately stopped his laughter.

“Why did you try to take off your mask? I thought you had no problem with it?” He squinted his eyes as he continued to try and face Jinyoung while driving.

“Well, it seems like I have a bigger problem with it than I thought. I’m scared of what this mask is hiding.” Jinyoung let out another sigh as he looked out the window. His sudden feeling of vulnerability made it hard for him to look Jackson in the eyes. “I thought if I could take the mask off, I wouldn’t have to worry about finding my soulmate. I don’t want to die wearing this mask, Jackson. What if I never find my soulmate and I have to wear this thing forever?” He questioned, his voice breaking when he reached the end of his sentence.

Jackson took one last glance at Jinyoung, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“Jinyoung, when I told you you were too hard on yourself, this is exactly what I meant. You bottle everything up and when you least expect it, it explodes. You never talk about these things with me, Haneul noona or anyone.” Jackson scolded him lightly, “You can’t do that all the time. One day, your heart’s going to burst so bad that you might actually rip that mask off of your face.” He warned.

Jinyoung bit his lip as he thought about it. Did he really have that problem? He honestly never really thought that he needed to talk about his feelings whenever he felt down. Maybe that was why it hit him so hard the night before.

“Maybe I do need to find my soulmate.” He let out a soft sigh.

“If you wanna look for them, I can keep my eyes out if you’d like.” He offered. Jinyoung turned to Jackson and smiled slightly,

“Thanks, Jackson.”

“Anything for my best friend.” He smiled and took one hand off of the wheel to give Jinyoung a reassuring squeeze to his shoulder. “I’ve spent so long looking at that fox mask, I bet I wouldn’t be able to miss it if I saw someone else wearing it.” He joked.

“Millions of other people also have fox masks.” Jinyoung rolled his eyes playfully.

“But only one other person has the same as yours.” Jackson added. He parked the car in the lot of the kindergarten and grabbed onto Jinyoung’s arm when he was about to leave the car. “Jinyoung, if you need anything at all, you know you can just ask me, right?” He sent a comforting gaze towards Jinyoung.

“I know I can, Jackson. It’s just hard talking to someone sometimes and I’m sorry I made you worry.” He flashed Jackson a reassuring smile. “I promise if anything’s bothering me, I’ll talk it out with you.”

“You promise?” He questioned as he climbed out of the car.

“Promise.”

“Okay, good, because you can’t break promises with me or I’ll get sulky.” Jackson huffed out as the two made their way into the kindergarten building. The sound of excited children started to fill their ears, their bodies welcoming the buzz.

“Stop it! Get into class!” Haneul’s exasperated voice called as she chased three of her students around in the hallways. Jackson and Jinyoung let out a laugh at the sight but Jackson was quick to let out a sigh when he saw that one student that would always cause trouble in his class running around the hallways as well.

“I’ll see you during break.” Jackson sighed as he trudged over to try and get the student into his class. To Jinyoung’s expectations, all of his students were nicely sitting inside of his class and calmly playing with each other.

“Jinyoung seonsaengnim!” Jae’s face quickly lit up when he saw him step in. “We have a new friend!” He excitedly announced as he pointed to the new face. The five year old boy was sitting beside Jun Hee shyly looking up at Jinyoung.

“Hello there.” He waved at the child who responded with a shy wave of his hand. He proceeded to crouch in front of the boy so he could be eye level with him, “I’m Jinyoung seonsaengnim, what’s your name?” He asked gently.

“Chang Min.” The boy whispered out, avoiding eye contact with Jinyoung.

“You don’t have to be so shy around Jinyoung seonsaengnim. Jun Hee likes him a lot.” Jun Hee smiled at the boy.

“Yeah! Jinyoung seonsaengnim is nice!” Eun Ha spoke up from her seat across the class. Chang Min turned to Jun Hee who nodded before turning to Jinyoung.

“I promise I’m not scary.” Jinyoung reassured him jokingly. A smile broke onto Chang Min’s face which caused Jinyoung to smile as well. “Promise me you’ll behave in my class, okay?” He ruffled Chang Min’s hair as he stood up and began his class.

He decided now would be a decent time to start with the basics to Korean grammar, creating a little game that they could play to help them memorise the particles properly. By the time class had gone by, Chang Min was way more extroverted than he was when the day began.

“Chang Min-ah,” Jinyoung called out as the students were clearing their belongings. “Did you have fun?” He questioned him. The young boy nodded,

“You’re nicer than my other teacher. That teacher was mean. But Jinyoung seonsaengnim is nice!” He smiled toothily at Jinyoung, melting his heart unknowingly. He waited until all of the students had left before he slipped on his coat and headed out of the classroom.

The sound of laughing and screaming children quickly filled his ears as he watched all of the classes quickly empty. He caught sight of Jackson chasing one of his students around and let out an amused chuckle.

“Don’t forget to do your homework!” He called out as the boy ran out of the front doors to the kindergarten. He turned to Jinyoung who was watching with amusement plastered all over his face. “That kid’s going to make my hair turn grey faster.” He grumbled as he walked over to him.

“Looks like it’s already happening.” Jinyoung joked as he pretended to search Jackson’s hair. Jackson retaliated by swatting his hand away,

“You’re lucky your class is so nice to you.” He clicked his tongue jokingly.

“Jinyoung seonsaengnim!” A child’s voice called from the end of the hallway. “Jinyoung seonsaengnim!” The two turned around to see Chang Min running through the crowded hallway and towards them. He tugged on the bottom of Jinyoung’s coat to make sure he had his attention.

“What is it?” Jinyoung questioned as he crouched down.

“My mama has the same mask as yours!” He pointed to Jinyoung’s fox mask. He furrowed his brows but also felt his heart skip a beat.

“Same… mask?” He questioned slowly. Chang Min nodded.

“Chang Min-ah!” A voice called from the end of the hallway. Jinyoung looked up to see a woman running towards them. The first thing he noticed was how she seemed to radiate beauty, the second thing he noticed was her mask.

Her white and red fox mask.

“Mama! This is Jinyoung seonsaengnim! I told you his mask was the same as yours!” Chang Min excitedly announced when he turned around to who Jinyoung assumed to be his mother.

“Chang Min-ah, don’t run off…” The woman began to take Chang Min’s hand but she trailed off when she saw Jinyoung’s mask. “Oh my god.” She breathed out with wide eyes. Jinyoung slowly stood up and he looked down at Chang Min before back up at her and he could feel his heart shattering.

“Y-Your mask.” He stuttered out the only words that would leave his lips. He had more to say, more to ask, but he simply couldn’t will the words out of his mouth.

“Uhm, miss, I’ll watch your son while you two talk.” Jackson cleared his throat. The woman let Chang Min go along with Jackson and turned back to Jinyoung.

“You have my mask.” The woman softly pointed out.

“And you have a son.” Jinyoung muttered out. She nodded at that,

“But he doesn’t have a father.” The words came out as almost a whisper. For a moment, Jinyoung forgot how to breath as he stared at her with wide eyes. He felt the pieces of his heart were slowly bringing themselves back together and he felt a weight lifting from his shoulders.

“Does that mean…” He trailed off.

“Yes. I don’t have a husband or a boyfriend.” She finished for him with a soft smile. “May I?” She questioned as she lifted her hands to the edge of his mask. Jinyoung took a moment to understand what she meant and he nodded when he did.

Her fingers gripped the white edges of his mask and he held his breath, expecting the same pain from the night before but instead, his mask slipped off effortlessly. He let out the breath he was holding, his eyes finally seeing the world without the rims of the mask in his vision and he lifted his own hands up to the woman’s face. He waited until she nodded and he pulled her mask off.

“Wow.” He breathed out when he saw her full face. She stared at his face, taking in his gorgeous features. His beautifully sun kissed skin, his perfect cheekbones, his perfect nose.

“You’re beautiful.” She whispered as she let her hand hover above his skin.

“You are too.” A smile crept onto his face when she blushed and pulled her hand away from his face.

“I’m (Y/n).” She introduced herself.

“I’m Jinyoung, but I guess Chang Min already told you.” A chuckle left his lips and hers as well.

“He did. The first thing he mentioned was that our masks were the same, then he kept saying that you were way nicer than his previous teacher.” She smiled as they turned to walk towards the door.

“If you don’t mind me asking, where’s Chang Min’s biological father?” Jinyoung questioned cautiously, not wanting to offend her in any way.

“I adopted him when my cousin passed away. She raised him on her own when her boyfriend left her when she was eight months along. She didn’t make it through labour, so I decided to take him in.” She hummed out.

“Does he know he’s adopted?” He asked, wanting to know if he should be more careful around Chang Min.

“Yeah he does.” She nodded, “I told him that even if I’m not his real mummy, I still love him to bits and that there are going to be times where people are going to use it against him but he needs to keep himself grounded.” She spoke softly, well aware of what was going to happen when he gets into school. Of course he was going to get bullied, (Y/n) just needed to make sure that he would be strong enough to push forward.

“That’s admirable.” Jinyoung stated, making her whip her head to look at him. “Not a lot of parents tell their kids they’re adopted.” She nodded at that,

“I don’t want him to be scared of who he is. I’m scared that hiding it longer might make it harder for him to process it.” She shrugged as she glanced over to look at him. “I know everyone has different opinions, but I like this plan. I just hope he doesn’t have to suffer so much.” She sighed out.

“If he does, he’ll have you around.” Jinyoung reassured her. She turned to him and smiled at him,

“Maybe he’ll have you around, too.” She suggested as she pushed open the front door to the kindergarten. His eyes widened. “He could use a father figure, and he already really likes you. I mean, we are soulmates after all.”

Jinyoung could feel himself starting to smile like an idiot. He watched as she stepped out of the building further to where Chang Min and Jackson were. He looked down at the mask in his hands; this was what it had planned.

230 notes · View notes

milstrim · 4 years

Text

You’re My Kid Too

Day 2: "Pick Who Dies"| Collars| Kidnapped

Mr. Stark was going to be so pissed. She was sure of it. Getting kidnapped was one thing, but allowing for Morgan to be taken too was a whole other level. She'd been babysitting for the day, taking Morgan out for a day at the Central Park Zoo as she tried to adjust to the newly repopulated world and Mr. Stark's new family. But something had happened when they'd been looking at the penguins, and she couldn't exactly remember what it was other than the hissing of gas and the whoosh! of doors clanging closed.

But then she'd woken up, cold except for a small and warm body clinging onto her desperately as it cried. She'd realized quickly that it was Morgan, and that they definitely weren't in the zoon anymore.

"Morgan?" she'd whispered in the dark, and the girl had frozen before gripping onto harder.

"Penny, Penny!" she'd cried, and Penny had sat up, wincing at the soreness in her side, and scooping Morgan into her lap, "I thought--I thought you were gone again and I didn't wanna be alone!"

She shushed the girl placatingly, "It's okay, it's okay. We're gonna be alright, okay? You just gotta be the strong girl you always are, right?" Morgan had nodded, "Good, okay, do you know how long we've been here?" She'd shrugged, "Okay, that's alright. Have you seen anyone?"

"No."

"Okay, if someone comes in you get behind me, alright? Just sit behind me and stay quiet, can you do that?"

"Yeah," Morgan had affirmed. The girl had struck true to her word when a woman had entered the room a few hours later, hiding behind her legs as the girl stood up to face their kidnapper.

The woman smiled at the two of them, and honestly, this wasn't who Penny had been expecting. She was small, barely taller than Penny herself, middle-aged, and slightly overweight. She dressed like a high school English teacher, with a short pixie cut that had turned gray, the only remnants of her original hair color being the few strands of black.

She'd gone on about revenge and the Avengers causing the loss of her own child, and really, Penny felt for her, but kidnapping a five year-old wasn't the way to go. Then the woman had left, leaving behind a small brown bag that ended up being two water bottles and ham and cheese sandwiches that she nibbled on before handing one to Morgan.

That had been two days ago, and while protecting Morgan was on the top of her to-do list, she hadn't been quite prepared for how hard it would be to entertain her, especially when she would randomly go into fits crying for her parents and Penny could do nothing but hold her. She must've played patty cake a thousand times, struggling to remember the rhyme and having to force herself to be gentle with the preschooler in front of her.

Three meals were delivered a day, and there was a toilet in the corner of the room that she thought must be an old prison room, so overall it could be worse conditions. They weren't being tortured, they were being fed, and were at least together, though they probably both smelled since they hadn't had a shower since they'd arrived.

Penny kept telling herself to wait, to lay low like Mr. Stark had always told her to do if she got kidnapped, to let him come and rescue them, and at first she had been prepared to do that, to hunker down and wait while she was with Morgan, but two days turned to six, and then nine, each night growing colder and all she could do was hug Morgan tighter.

But then she couldn't hug Morgan.

On the ninth day the woman returned, this time with two other people with solemn expressions, and Penny had immediately pressed Morgan behind her at the tingle running up and down her spine.

"Step away," the woman ordered, the bars of the cage opening with a clang!

"No," Penny said, putting steel into her voice.

"You don't have to be more involved than you already are dear," the woman said gently, as though a doting mother to her, and Penny scowled, "I don't know who you are. A nanny or a babysitter, some poor intern who got dragged into this, but I don't want to hurt you."

"And why not? You seem fine with hurting a five year-old. She hasn't even gone to kindergarten yet! If you think she has any part of the Avengers then you're either insane or stupid. I'm leaning towards the latter."

"Step aside," she said again, a little more sternness in her voice.

"No."

"Step aside."

"She's a kid!"

"She's the daughter of a murderer, and he will feel the same pain I did."

Penny's eyes shifted to the ground, hesitant but sure, she sighed, "Fine."

"What?" The woman sounded beyond surprised.

"Fine! He can feel that pain, but not through Morgan."

"How do you--"

"You think he trusts just anybody with his daughter? Some random nanny after how many people have tried to kill him? And why do you think a teenager would be nannying her? You don't think he'd hire some really professional lady?" Penny ranted, and she could feel Morgan's arms wrap around her leg, squeezing her as she cried. She wished she could comfort her, but if she wanted Morgan to be safe, she had to put all her attention into this.

"What do you mean?" the woman asked, readjusting her glasses and giving her a once over.

"I mean Tony Stark likes me. We've known each other for years and he takes care of me and him and my aunt basically share custody of me. If you--" she swallowed, "If you hurt me, then he'll feel the same pain, but you won't have to hurt Morgan."

"And how do we know this is true?" the man behind the still nameless woman asked. For the first time since they'd arrived, she turned to Morgan.

"Morgan, what are we?" she asked gently, and Morgan sniffed.

"Sisters."

Penny turned back around, point-fucking-proven (even if it was technically a lie), to look at the shocked and calculating faces. After a tense minute, the woman finally reached a conclusion, smiling a little as she looked at her.

"Okay, works for me. We'll send it to Stark, and if what you're saying is true--and you don't fight back--then the kid will be safe. Deal?"

"Deal," Penny agreed without hesitation. They beckoned for her to leave the cell, and she began to move forward, but Morgan continued to clutch onto her harder.

"No! NO! PENNY!! DON'T GO!!" the girl cried, sobbing hysterically, but Penny had to go, she had to keep Morgan safe. Glancing between the impatient faces and Morgan's snot-covered and crying one, she kneeled down, prying the little hands away from her leg as gently as she possibly could.

"It's okay. It's okay, Morggie. Remember what I said about being brave?" A nod, "Good. Just, try and be calm, and it'll be okay. I'll make it okay."

"Promise?"

Penny hesitated, but Morgan's eyes were too wide and too smart and too much exactly like Mr. Stark's, "I promise. Pinky promise."

She held out her pinky, and Morgan accepted, tears still leaking out of her eyes as Penny stood up and stepped out of the small cell, allowing for her hands to be cuffed behind her back. She kept eye contact with Morgan the entire time, trying for a smile and not looking away until she was moving and down the hallway.

She was right about it being an old prison, the walls crumbling stone and covered in frost. She knew it was winter, but wherever they were it was cold. And every step away from Morgan became colder and colder until she was finally led into a room with a singular metal chair and a camera pointed at it.

The next few hours were some of the worst of her life.

Penny was dumped back into her and Morgan's cell the next day, barely aware of the world around her. After their little homemade video in which Penny had done her very best assuring Mr. Stark that Morgan was okay and that she was keeping her safe, she'd been left chained to the chair in the room while they sent it or whatever. She guessed they were just being extra careful about not being found, but it had sucked.

Nothing in this place was particularly comfortable, but that chair and that freezing empty room with the knowledge of Morgan alone barely a hallway over was the worst part of all of it. Yet she didn't want Morgan to see her the way she was right now.

Her arms and hands were coated in red that was dried and sticky, her lips blue and the hair atop her head--so thick and desperately in need of a cut--was still damp and clung to her skin. There were cuts and burns littering her body, and she knew she must look a mess, a true horror to the girl once again crying and pulling at her hair to try and get her to move.

"Penny? Penny, please. Wake up! If-If I have to be brave, you do too!" Morgan practically begged, and she began to stir, forcing herself onto her arms and knees, collapsing onto the barred wall instead. Morgan stared at her, scared and timid.

"It's okay, Morggie. I'm okay, see, I'm right here," Penny tried to assure, "You're doing so good. So good. Just--just be brave for a little longer, okay?"

"How much longer?"

"Not long."

And it wouldn't be. They couldn't stay here. Penny had held them off with the promise of torturing her instead, but these people were crazy, and she knew it was only a matter of time before they moved onto Morgan. The couldn't wait any longer.

The teen didn't even wait a day. She waited until the next morning when they were afforded their stupid sandwiches and water that she would throw out the stupid window if it weren't for the hunger that clawed at her chest.

The woman, different than the short and stout ringleader, approached with their bags of food. Penny was still sitting on the bars, waiting, limp and unsuspecting, until they were close enough. She struck out, grabbing their foot and easily unbalancing them. Quick as a shot, she stood up and punched them through the bars, letting her drop to the floor unconscious.

Morgan yelped in surprise, staring at the woman crumpled on the ground. But then she clapped, "Are we leaving?"

"Yep. We're going home, Mongoose," she affirmed.

"Back to Mommy and Daddy?"

"Back to Mommy and Daddy."

Morgan smiled, and then they were walking down the hallways. Morgan carried the little brown bags of food as they stalked through the hallway, Penny on edge as she escorted them to the door. They managed to not come across anyone, which was good, because Penny doubted she could fight at this point. She was limping and tired to the bone, her right arm swollen and her eye still black. If it came down to it, she'd take someone down, but they needed to get out as quick as possible.

But when they finally found the door, she hesitated. It was freezing, beyond cold. Now don't get her wrong, she knew what cold was like, New York was plenty freezing during the winter, but now she wore nothing but a shirt and jeans, as well as a hoodie wrapped around her waist. And it wasn't just cold, Penny didn't do well in the cold, it was a storm. Penny did doubley worse in a storm.

It wasn't snow that rained down, but freezing sleet and pouring rain that thundered against the slick pavement outside. She gulped. This was bad, but they couldn't stay here. Maybe...maybe she could find a way to contact Tony, but then she'd be caught, and then Morgan would be tortured. And if this was an old prison, then, well, there had to be some kind of society around.

She weighed her chances, and then she weighed Morgan's chances. Outside was better for Morgan but worse for her, so outside it was.

"Are we going out there? It looks scary," Morgan mumbled. Penny knelt down at eye level with her sister.

"I know it does, but we have to go out, okay? We'll find Daddy and Mommy out there."

"Uncle Rhodey too?"

"Especially Uncle Rhodey," Penny affirmed, taking her hoodie and putting it on Morgan, "I'm gonna carry you, can you keep the food safe for me?"

"Yeah!" Morgan said, brightening at the thought of helping.

"Great," she said, picking the girl up with a pained grunt, "Let's go."

The cold, to put it simply, stinked.

It tore at her cuts, burning and freezing. It soaked her to the bone, wrapped her in nothing but frost and ice, making her feel as though she were trapped at the bottom of a lake during winter. And Penny's inability to keep herself warm certainly didn't help. She couldn't shiver and she couldn't warm up, the most she could do was hold Morgan close to her and hope to God that she was as dry and warm as she could possibly be.

Morgan was a trooper though. Barely complaining, only ever asking how long until they were home twice, which was considerable constraint for a five year-old. Apparently the answer to when they'd get home--or at least at a town--was four hours. Four hours of trudging over wet, slushy ground. Four hours of wandering until she found railroad tracks to follow. Four hours until a house finally appeared through the gray storm.

"Morgan, look. A house!" she choked out in relief at the sight of it. She heard Morgan let out a pitiful cry in response, and Penny could do nothing but continue to stumble forward. There were a few more houses surrounding it, but she stuck with the nearest one, ducking between the cars and stumbling onto the porch.

Her vision was hazy as she rang the doorbell, hugging Morgan tighter to her. Due to the late hour it took a few minutes for someone to answer, the door finally being flung open by an old woman, who gaped at them in shock.

"Please..." Penny begged, "2-1-2. 6-5-5. 9-0-0-8. 2-1-2. 6-5-5. 9-0-0-8. 2-1-2. 6-5-5. 9-0-0-8. 2-1-2..."

When Penny passed out, making sure to land on her back and not Morgan, she was still repeating those numbers, mumbling as the woman screamed in surprise. She really hoped she remembered the number.

Tony stared intently at the girl in front of him. She was still pale, even after being in the Medbay for two days, though her cuts and burns had thankfully healed. Hypothermia was the kicker, but he knew she'd push through. She had too.

Morgan had managed to full recover, which made sense. She hadn't been blue when he'd found her, well, when he'd gotten a call in the middle of the night from some lady in Canada saying that two girls had shown up on her doorstep repeating his number. His heart had leapt in joy, in relief. He'd gotten the video of Penny being tortured barely a few hours earlier, and it had been the worst experience of his life.

He'd thrown up, unable to take Penny's cries telling him that Morgan was safe all the while she hadn't been.

His kids being taken had been a truly crippling experience, especially with no contact. He'd begun to break by day five of no contact, and when he'd gotten that video of Penny, he'd almost been relieved, and it made him sick. Whoever had taken Penny, well, he'd been playing right into their hands.

But Penny had escaped, had taken Morgan and run at the first sign of real danger, and he couldn't be more grateful to have one kid in his lap and the other laying in front of him. Though he'd prefer Penny be awake.

Like his thoughts had summoned her, she blinked awake within the next few minutes. Her heart rate picked up as she looked around the room, then calmed down as she caught sight of him. She smiled sleepily.

"Hey, Mr. Stark," she greeted, "Is she okay?"

"She's great. What about you? How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Morgan's safe. She's safe, Mr. Stark."

"I know, Penny. I know," he assured, moving to grip her hand, "And now you're safe too, okay? Even though you walked through -20 degree weather knowing you can't keep warm."

"I thought the cold would get me," she admitted, "But they were going to go for Morgan next. They were going to hurt her."

His hand shook, "They hurt you. And you're my kid too, Penny." She looked at him with wide eyes, so he carried on, "You're my kid, just like Morgan. So please know you gave me a heart attack."

"Oh, I already knew that, Mr. Stark. Not the--not the kid part. But the uh, heart part."

He smiled, shaking his head. Sniffing in disdain, he pressed a kiss to her head, cupping Morgan closer to himself so as to keep her from waking up, "Whatever, kid. Just know that I love you and go back to sleep."

She smiled, and blinking tiredly, she drifted once more.

#iron man #spiderman #female peter parker #tony stark #peter parker #spiderdaughter #irondad #irondad fanfiction

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years

Text

The Right Choice - Part 7

Summary: You had hoped going to Korea to look after your estranged grandmother would allow you to connect in some way to your mother’s culture. However, being half-Korean and a single mother meant you would face the stigma of a narrow-minded society instead. Had you really made the right choice to come here?

Pairing: Mark Tuan x reader

Genre: single mother au / strangers to lovers au / self-growth / angst / romance

Warnings: open prejudice and stigma over solo parenting

A/N; Although the warnings seem rather negative, this story is one I hope a lot of you will enjoy! I’ve wanted to write this for over eight months now, and I’m glad I finally sat down to do so. It isn’t as dark as it sounds, and nor is it intentionally a dig at Korean culture as a whole.

The Right Choice will be posted daily at 10am NZST.

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Just as planned, your father arrived in Korea for the first time in over thirty years, a couple of days later. You met him at the airport, rushing forward to take Emerson from his arms after kissing him on the cheek.

It had been a long two days without your daughter in your arms.

“Mum-Mum-Mum!” she sang and you nodded, kissing her all over. And then her chubby arms reached out for the person waiting behind you.

Mark grinned, taking her happily. “Hey Emmie, look how big you’ve gotten!”

You gave your Dad a look, who then quietly yet firmly placed a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “Mark, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We have a lot of talking to do, so it seems,” your father mentioned and you grinned, shooting Mark an innocent shrug.

It wasn’t only him who could plan things.

You could tell your father was anxious when you arrived outside the gate to the family home, staring at it as if he was seeing an entire lifetime before now in front of him. He hesitated for the handle on the gate but you encouraged him forward.

“I’m right here.”

“I know, I know,” he mumbled, taking a deep breath.

“I’ll catch up with you all later,” Mark announced, bowing out from the family reunion and leaving you all to go inside to see your grandmother.

Once inside, you held Emerson’s hand after putting her on the ground, watching on silently in the doorway.

“Michael,” the elder greeted, and you could see the nervousness settled into her old stare just as much as it was within his. Smiling as your father edged forward, he bowed politely at the woman. Once upright again, he gasped when your grandmother mirrored the gesture, shaking with emotions. You knew this was a first in his lifetime, as was the warm hand she placed over his trembling one. “Welcome.”

“Mo-mother,” he choked out, the pair having a long-overdue moment. You took Emerson around him and into your bedroom to get changed. When you returned, your Dad and grandmother were both settled down and chatting together.

“You brought her back with you?”

You glanced at your Dad, blinking rapidly. “Mum’s here?”

“I figure it would be best to let her rest with the other members of her family. Especially since Y/N is over here.”

“But, what about you Dad?” you breathed, tears welling in your eyes. “You prided in having her close.”

“She will be,” he told you, looking between both you and the other woman in the room. “It was always in your mother’s plans to expand the business east. I’ve just signed a contract two weeks ago that starts that new adventure.”

“You’re moving here?!” you asked, throwing your arms around his neck happily. “Really?”

“I’ll have to travel back and forth, but yes, Korea can be my home too. I’m not going to let Emerson grow up without seeing her Grandpa all the time!”

“Pa-Pa-Pa!” the child on the floor cried, crawling over to the chair your grandmother was seated in and pulled herself up. She looked directly at the old woman and giggled. “Ma-Ma-Ma!”

“Ma?” she repeated before looking at you.

“Grandma,” you confirmed, smiling as your family unit.

You never knew you could be this happy in your mother’s country until now.

There was someone you still needed to catch up with. After the ceremony of your mother’s urn being placed next to the rest of her family was over, you made plans to meet up with Mark. You hadn’t exactly avoided him since coming back to Korea, you had been genuinely busy. But in those first two days, you had felt too awkward to truly delve into your feelings.

The confidence of seeing your family all on the same page made you realise that you needed to be on the same one with Mark too. Whether that was friendship or something more, you weren’t quite sure. It was important to you to find out, however, and after leaving Emerson with your Dad and Grandmother eating breakfast, you walked over to the bakery.

“Welcome!” his cheery voice greeted and you grinned when he saw who was there, waving in greeting.

You then took a seat at the table you had on your first trip to the bakery, waiting for him to approach you. He sat down in the seat opposite, trying not to smile too much. You looked up at him and sighed. “Is it okay to vent?”

Mark chuckled at your opening line and nodded. “I’m apparently a good listener. Someone I know once told me that.”

“Is that so,” you wondered, leaning across the table. Your smile eased somewhat. “I was dumb.”

“Just dumb?”

“Blind too, at least I hope so.”

Mark grinned, leaning in towards you himself. “So blind. What guy gives away multiple breads for free to just anyone?”

“I thought you were being friendly!”

“I was,” he assured with a laugh, making a gesture with your hand to carry on. “Anyway, you were saying about being dumb and blind?”

You rolled your eyes in response before smiling again. “I liked getting to know you. And you accepted Emerson so easily, which means a lot to me.”

“Who doesn’t love Emmie? She’s got more charms than you do. I’m pretty sure she accepted my heart before you ever did.”

“Are you just going to keep teasing me? I came here to be serious with you.”

“I’m working, and you choose to unload feelings onto me now?” Mark glanced around the bakery and sighed heavily. “Couldn’t you wait until I was a free man?”

“Were you always this playful?”

“Were you always this easy to wind up?”

You grinned at each and you nodded. “Fine, I’ll wait until your shift is over.”

“I have teaching afterwards.”

“I’ll wait until you finish there,” you corrected and Mark rested his head in his hands, smiling warmly at you. You grew shy. “What?”

“How long are you willing to wait for me?”

“Is this some sort of test?” you wondered aloud and then copied his comfortable pose, resting your elbows up on the table. “Hm, how long am I willing to wait for you?”

Before you could make any further response, Mark enclosed the gap between you both, pressing his mouth onto yours. It was short, sweet and full of promise.

You breathed shakily when he pulled away. “For as long as I need to wait, I’ll do just that.”

It turned out you didn’t have to wait more than a couple of hours. Mark’s shift at the bakery ended and he texted you to meet him in the park he had taken you and Emerson on your first day out. Arriving shortly after his message, you frowned when you found him setting up a picnic on the grass. “Don’t you have your teaching gig?”

“I was joking,” he admitted, grinning up at you as he placed food out for you both. “I wanted to see just how long you could wait for me.”

“I guess there’s a lot more I need to learn about you,” you told him as you sat down and Mark nodded.

“Of course, you haven’t known me for very long. And right before I could confess anything to you, suddenly you disappeared from my world.”

You avoided his gaze then, sheepishly picking at one of the pastries. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I should have done what I really wanted to that day.”

“Which was?”

“Stop you from walking away from me. I knew you were upset but if I told you what happened, maybe you wouldn’t have left.”

“Maybe.”

Mark smiled at you. “I think you leaving did a lot of good though. I mean, you told me about your parents. Your Grandmother looks to be accepting your Dad a lot more now.”

“He’s feeling pretty validated as a family member now.”

“That wouldn’t have happened if you stayed, right?”

“Probably not. I mean, it sounds like he was already planning to come this way, but I doubt my Grandma would have let him in so soon.”

“And she really did miss you both. I had to check on her some times just to make sure she was eating. She told me she missed Emerson’s energy in the house. It made her feel younger.”

“She makes me feel old sometimes,” you said with a laugh, thinking of how quick your daughter was moving around now. “I’m scared to go back to work in case she gets way too fast for Grandma.”

“You’re going back to work?” You nodded. “Where?”

“At the company Dad’s opened here. He wants me to help him run it.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of responsibility,” Mark mentioned softly, his eyes shifting to the food. “You’ll be pretty busy.”

“I know, I mean, I’m only going to be working part-time until Emerson is old enough to attend kindergarten, but still, it’s going to be a bit of a change once she turns a year old.”

“Probably won’t have time for dating anyone then.”

“I never did when I last worked,” you agreed, watching Mark’s downcast expression. You tried not to break out into a smile but his reaction was hard to resist. “It’s a good thing I told Dad that I’ll need him to baby-sit a lot at night, right?”

“At night?” You nodded again and he frowned. “Why?”

“Are you serious?” you questioned with a smile and Mark blinked a couple of times. You leaned in closer. “How else am I going to date my boyfriend? I can’t expect him to put up with my daughter third-wheeling all the time. Though, she’s definitely a big part of my world. My boyfriend will have to understand that.”

He grinned, reaching out to hold onto your face tenderly. You liked when he did that, in fact, you were certain you liked a whole lot about the man before you. “I don’t mind Emerson being with us. Like I said earlier, she accepted me a lot earlier than you did.”

“Are you just going to keep talking or do I have to kiss you myself?”

“I thought you had a boyfriend?” Mark pointed out and you rolled your eyes, grabbing onto his face.

“I do, and I’m about to kiss him,” you announced, placing your lips on Mark’s and kissing him with all the passion you could muster.

_________________

Part 8

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ofravensandgenesis · 4 years

Text

OC Quiz

Tagged by @amistrio and @stvnningstrike !! Thank you for the tags in this fun ask game!! :D ♥ Tagging anyone who wants to be tagged, go forth and tell us about your lovely OCs!!!!

—————

Deputy Joshua Rook

————— Asked someone to marry you? - Innocent.

Kissed one of your friends? - Uhhhh, innocent...? What kind of kiss are we talking here, because if we mean cheek kisses or something like that then yeah, guilty, but if you mean a proper kiss on the mouth then pretty sure innocent. Well. So long as we’re counting people as friends that I’ve known longer than the lifespan of a mayfly.

Danced on a table in a bar or tavern? - Innocent.

Ever told a lie? - Guilty guilty guilty, it’s a marvel I have a single pair of pants left, rather than all of them burning up in one of Sharky’s bonfires.

Had feelings for someone whom you can’t have? - ...I mean, yes. It’s a crush, I’ll get over it. Guilty.

Ever kissed someone of the opposite sex? - Innocent ish if we mean strictly me being the one to initiate the kiss. Platonic affection kisses guilty, romantic or sexual kisses innocent. If we’re including being kissed by someone of the opposite sex, guilty then.

Ever kissed someone of the same sex? - Guilty on all counts.

Kissed a picture? - Does it count as guilty if I was five and it was for art time? It was an effort somewhere between painting and cleaning all the paint off my face. If no, innocent otherwise.

Slept in until 5pm? - Guilty and then some, I’ve slept at weird hours before for night work. [coughs.]

Fallen asleep at work or school? - ...guilty on rare occasion, I try not to though. Sleepwalking, you know how it is.

Held a snake? - Innocent which is unfortunate, snakes are cool animals man. I’ve only seen them in pet stores and in documentaries.

Been suspended from school? - Ehhhhhhhh, technically innocent as I was not actually suspended. I was threatened with suspension if I was found to be acting out again. So I made sure to not get found out.

Stolen something? - If I had a nickel for every item I’ve stolen, I’d have a small fortune. Guilty as hell.

Done something you regret? - Guilty again. We all have regrets, don’t we?

Caught a snowflake on your tongue? - ...innocent, I hadn’t thought to try this yet, why am I living this far up north where it gets freezing cold and snows if I’m not going to do these things. I’ll have to do that when winter next rolls around. If I can, anyway.

Laughed until liquid came out of your nose? - Innocent. That sounds uncomfortable.

Kissed in the rain? - Uh. Guilty? It was an out of the blue surprise and I wasn’t expecting it. Nice though.

Sat on a roof top? - Guilty. It’s nice up there.

Kissed someone you shouldn’t? - Innocent?? Who would count as “someone you shouldn’t kiss”? ...maybe guilty? There was that one time I gatecrashed a party to, uh, avoid a close encounter with the law, shall we say, as a teen. Was yanking my hoodie off to try to blend in and change my look when I ran right into this guy—real cute, real surprised, but that left no time for me to really hide though. So I panicked, pulled him out of the way, and sprang a surprise smooch on him. I apologized after the coast was clear, but he was...ahem, more than fine with it. Ended up sticking around to talk to him. Nice night, nice guy, honestly. Rory's his name. We still talk on the regular.

Sang in the shower? - Innocent. I think.

Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? - Do lakes count? Guilty if so. Blame Sharky and Pratt. Hurk helped.

Shaved your head? - Personally innocent, though others have given me a really close cut as a kid on occasion. Didn’t much care for it at all, then or now.

Slept naked? - Guilty. Sometimes summer got too damn hot and clothes were overkill because there was no air conditioning. Thankfully I make more than enough to afford AC now so I don’t melt into a puddle during a heat wave—or turn into an icicle up here in Montana during the winter.

Made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? - Innocent. I’d need to have an S/O to run that risk first. Pretty sure if I ever do get one there’ll be fights eventually because I don’t think anyone can avoid fighting forever, can they?

Donated blood? - Innocent, it just never came around as a situation to consider before now.

Eaten alligator meat? - Guilty, it was a food bank donated can of the stuff. Tasted kind of like a cross between something gamey, chickeny, and fishy?? Not real keen on eating it again, but if there was nothing else to eat, probably would.

Eaten cheesecake? - Guilty. Tasty stuff, cheesecake.

Still loved someone you shouldn’t? - ................... [What an uncomfortable question. He doesn’t want to answer that.]

Have/had a tattoo? - Guilty on multiple counts.

Liked someone, but will never tell who? - Guilty, though Joey already knows, she has this ability where she can just stare into your soul and know your deepest darkest secrets— [He’s kidding, Joey’s just perceptive and he knows it. He likes to pretend that she doesn’t know though, helps with the denial.]

Been too honest? - ??? Uh...I...would...not think so? Innocent?

Ruined a surprise? - Guilty, both accidentally and intentionally.

Eaten so much that you can’t walk after? - Innocent. I have wolfed down my food on more than one occasion though, even though I know I shouldn’t. It happens sometimes, but still working on it.

Dressed in a man’s clothes? - Guilty, I generally wear men’s clothes.

Dressed in a woman’s clothes? - Innocent as far as I know, though many clothes are unisex and I’ve gotten clothes from thrift stores and other sources before so who knows? Hoodies are for everyone.

Joined a pageant? - ??? I don’t think so, unless school talent contests and costume contests count? Didn’t really do much for those either. So, innocent.

Still have communication with your ex? - Pfft, I’d need to have an ex first for that. Innocent. Rory isn’t an ex by virtue of the fact that we never dated.

Been told that you’re beautiful by someone who meant it? - Innocent.

Cheated on someone? - See above, have not had an actual serious relationship to speak of for this to happen. Nor have I been the, uh, third person so to speak, so innocent.

Gotten totally drunk and missed an exam? - Innocent. I don’t really get drunk outside of drinking with friends socially, and even then I would prefer to keep my personal intoxication levels low.

A total stranger treated you by paying your fare? - Innocent.

Got so angry that you cried? - Guilty. Life sucks sometimes.

Tried to stay away from someone for their own good? - ...does for our combined mutual good count? Guilty if so.

Thought about suicide? - ...Guilty in passing, once. Not deeply or seriously. [He’s too determined to try to live his life, honestly. Even if he’s kind of worked up into a mess with all of the cult business and the psychic bullshit he has to deal with.]

Thought about murder? - Guilty. Very guilty if dreams and visions of possible futures count.

Actually murdered someone? - Innocent. Hopefully it’ll stay that way regardless.

Thought about mass murder? - ...Guilty. Comes with the territory of dreaming about the Reaping and Collapse for years upon years from different perspectives. Would prefer not to think about that. [It’s unsettling to him.]

Actually committed a mass murder? - Innocent, and hopefully will very much stay that way.

Rode in a stranger’s vehicle? - Do taxis count, or public transportation? Guilty if so, innocent otherwise.

Stalked someone? - ...guilty but it was for a good cause on all occasions. Namely keeping a third party from tormenting and or murdering them and their family members or friends.

Had a girlfriend? - A serious girlfriend? Innocent. A girlfriend in kindergarten school for all of one recess and free play period? Guilty ish? Kindergarten was wild, man.

Had a boyfriend? - Innocent since I would say I haven’t actually had a serious relationship yet. I’ve had...flings?? It’s weird to call them that, we didn’t discuss what name fit it at the time or anything, just acknowledged that we were both on the same page of not looking for something involving commitment at the time from each other. Just...you know, being there with each other for a little while, before we parted ways. It wasn’t a good time to pursue a relationship for me, at the very least. Not sure when a good time would be, though. After all this? [Assuming there is an afterwards worth mentioning once the cult situation is...resolved, shall we say. He doesn’t know what will happen then. Terrifying, isn’t it. Almost as bad as knowing what could and would happen in what he considers the Bad Ending from his point of view.]

Gotten totally drunk during a holiday? - Innocent. Don’t much care for loss of control over myself, as stated earlier. Some drinking is fine in good company and a safe environment.

#ask game #Far Cry 5 #FC 5 #Far Cry 5 AU #FC 5 AU #Deputy Joshua Rook #OC Quiz #in-character responses #in a backstage interview kind of way #lbr he wouldn't talk this much about the shit he's done #unless he really trusted the other person #or there was a reason to open up #bc it's incriminating obviously #and he's supposed to be a sheriff deputy #a lawful sort and all that #he is trying to be more lawful for what it's worth #it was a rough start to life tho

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lipstickbisous · 5 years

Text

we love you

description: your son lets out a secret of his own.

warnings: flufffff, dad!daniel, gonna be cute and not like my other imagines

tags: @bessonbear @trustfundparker @seavey-siren @ijustreallylovethem @keepseaveyweird @coolkidcorbyn @sfx-bands @seavey-siren

a/n: this gif is old but it still gives me shivers

there were clues all along his childhood. from how he preferred to play dress-up and dolls over tag and cars like his brother. he was mainly friends with girls and ever since the first day of kindergarten, he was just so awkward around boys.

you and daniel didn’t know why.

»«

“momma!” he screamed from the kitchen. you sat in the living room with keri and anna while daniel was out with his father. milo was five while his brother was eight and his sister was ten.

“yeah, bub?” you yelled back, watching the smiles grow on keri and anna’s face.

you and daniel had your daughter when you were both 24 years old, and you both considered yourselves way too young to be parents. but keri and jeff supported you through everything. now, you were both 34 years old with three kids.

the kitchen remained silent which made you a bit worried. keri whispered a “go check on him”. you nodded and excused yourself from the room, hurrying to the kitchen. “where are you?” you asked.

he jumped out from the counter. his bright blue eyes were something he’d inherited from daniel; all of your kids got his eyes and nose. milo wore a bright smile while he had lipstick all over his cheeks.

“i made you li-stick!” he said, holding out a jar of red substance and you weren’t sure if it was safe or not.

“aww, baby!” you laughed, crouching down so you met his eye level. you licked your thumb and tried to wipe away the lipstick but it only smudged the red lines. “um...t-thank you! we should go get you cleaned up, babe.”

keri and anna wore large smiles and wide eyes as they tried to hold in a laugh. “hi, grandma! hi, auntie anna!” they only waved to the little boy as you whispered, “he made me lipstick.”

»«

milo had grown to be the most attractive boy you’d seen in his grade. he was now eight, his brother was eleven, and his sister was thirteen. you and daniel were now 37. third grade had been a blast for the little boy and you were currently at his graduation on the last day of school.

you and daniel sat on a picnic bench in the shade while third graders ran around the playground. you popped a grape in your mouth and laughed when daniel coughed his out. “still don’t like grapes.”

“why’d you eat it then?” you laughed, swallowing your food. he took a bite of a cracker and then a strawberry and shrugged.

“cause you eat them,” he said, putting his head on your shoulder and trying to find his son running around. “and i love you.” he kissed your cheek.

“i love you too,” you found it amazing that at 37 years old, daniel still sent the same sparks in your heart that he did when you were 20. you heard a familiar yell and looked to your right to see milo running around.

you gasped. “look,” you whispered, pointing to your son.

“i-is he...is that a boy?” you nodded and daniel sat up. “he never plays with boys.”

“i know,” you laughed, smiling at the fact that your son made a friend that wasn’t a girl. you didn’t mind having girls over to play but the constant need for third grade girls to have attention got aggravating. “look away he’s coming over.”

you and daniel quickly changed your gaze to the swings on your left as you heard the laughter of your son. “momma, this is dylan.”

you smiled brightly and waved to the little boy that stood next to your son. they held hands, but, at the time, you didn’t notice it. “hi, dylan.” you and daniel spoke at the same time.

dylan wore a dinosaur t-shirt and you noticed that milo had the same one in his closet. “it’s nice to meet you.”

»«

your daughter, lila, was now 21 years old and in college. your oldest son, nathan, was 19 and milo was 16. the years just seem to pass by so fast. you and daniel were now 45 and you never would’ve even thought about being over 40 years old. but it happened, and you were glad that you were spending it with daniel.

you both sat on the couch with tv playing loudly. with 2/3 kids out of the house, your world was so much quieter. it was nice, but you both found it bothersome. as a result of this, you tried to play music and natural sounds to make it less silent in your home.

you sighed. “i miss them,” you whispered as you snuggled into daniel’s arms. 25 years later and you were both still in love with each other.

daniel nodded and rubbed your shoulder. “i know,” he kissed your temple, causing you to close your eyes. “i miss them too.”

“at least we have milo,” you laughed breathlessly, your body growing tired from a long day. daniel nodded again and kissed the top of your head.

it seemed like a movie because just as you spoke his name, he came walking down the stairs so quietly you wouldn’t have heard him if it wasn’t for the creak in the floorboards.

“hey, babe,” you said, sitting up when you say your son’s blue eyes. “what’s up?”

you noticed that they had a sad gleam to them as his bottom lip stuck out, something he always did when he was nervous. daniel must’ve noticed it too because he then asked, “what’s wrong, m?”

milo remained sitting at the stairs for a few seconds before quietly walking to the armchair across from the couch and you and your husband sat at. he wore a large sweatshirt that made his already small body seem tiny.

“milo?” you asked worried. “everything okay?”

he shrugged and rubbed up and down his arms, trying to relieve himself of the goosebumps forming on his skin. “i think so,” he nodded and shivered. you passed him a blanket.

“you can talk to us,” daniel spoke softly. you nodded and held daniel’s hand under the blanket that covered your bodies.

“well, um,” he looked down at his bare feet. milo’s thumb traced over the unknown covered hickey on his shoulder. “i’ve known this for about a-a year, i think. i-i told lila and she knows but i didn’t tell anyone else.”

“just tell us, bud.” daniel repeated himself. “it’s okay.”

milo nodded and exhaled a large breath,

“i have a boyfriend.”

the grip you had on daniel’s hand slightly loosened as you sighed. you smiled warmly and laughed. “were you scared to tell us, baby?” you were almost heartbroken.

milo shrugged. “there’s all these kids at school with parents who don’t support them and- i just didn’t know.”

“milo,” daniel’s voice shook and you looked over to see tears in his eyes. “we’re always gonna support and love you. know that.”

your son nodded, still looking at the floor. you threw the blanket off of your body and quietly walked over to milo, wrapping your arms around him and holding his head close to your chest. he instantly broke out into a sob and cried into the sleeve of your sweater. you felt another pair of arms around you and looked up to see daniel with tears and closed eyes. you didn’t even realize it but you had tears to.

“we love you, milo.” you whispered.

daniel nodded. “always will.”

#daniel seavey #why don’t we #imagine #new imagine #6/12 #come to brazil #unbelievable #jack avery #corbyn besson #jonah marais #zach herron #fluff #angst #smut

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pawtoncake · 5 years

Text

The Moon To My Stars

For @combine-the-kitchens

Pairings: Prinxiety

Word Count: 1,245

Soulmate AU

A/N: I cranked this guy out in a solid 30 minutes be proud.

----

Roman and Virgil had known each other for years. In fact, since they were in kindergarten. They became best friends and, even in their sophomore year of high school, they still are. Even though both parties had branched out of their small friend group, nothing could keep them away from each other for long. It was reaching the time for people their age to find out who their soulmate is. Or more accurately, what they would say the first time they laid eyes on them.

And if you’re wondering, yes, you can be soulmates with people you’ve already met. You will just have the first words they say to you after you’ve gotten your soulmate mark. It was a crazy concept to wrap around young Ro and Virgil. But nonetheless, they grew up waiting for their soulmate to appear when they both turned 16.

The day began with Virgil and Ro walking to school because they had yet to get their driver's licenses. “Have you found anything yet?” Ro asks grabbing my wrist, seeing that I still hadn’t gotten anything imprinted on it. “Nope… you?” “No not yet, hopefully, I’ll get it later today.” He said wishfully. And with that, we arrived at school. (They lived close to the school fite me). They had a few classes together but the ones they didn’t were complicated ones. After the bell rang to go to first hour, the two split ways. “I’ll see you 3rd hour right?” “I would sure hope so!” He said cheekily and grabbed my hand squeezing it. Virgil bluHed and so did Ro when he realized what he did.

He nervously laughed and let go, beginning to walk towards his advanced English class. Virgil stood there for a good fraction of a second before He turned around, hung her head and walked towards biology class. Both students sat distracted from the lessons they were having shoved into their brains.

Meanwhile, Virgil sits alone in her biology class thinking what it would be like to finally see her soulmate and bear the sacred mark on her wrist. He wondered if he was waiting for her, if he was everything He had ever imagined, what color his eyes would be, or if he was here with her all along. This would be no ordinary meeting; for on that glorious day would the matching souls be forever intertwined. The two are destined for greatness and an eternal love that is magnified beyond all earthly measure. There would be no absence between space or time. The sound of her name brought her thoughts back to reality. “Virgil!” shouted her teacher, “Are you paying attention?” “Yes, sorry,” Virgil said.

Suddenly, Virgil felt a rather interesting sensation come upon her. Emotionally, He wanted to cry, laugh, and felt at peace all at once. So many feelings rushed within her soul and He felt like a beacon of light for all to see. The truest form is the soul, which is as real as it gets. Why not be real all of the time instead of something you aren’t? Your soul reveals your true identity, who you are, and what you believe in. Scream to the world with all you’ve got, so they can hear; let light inside of you shine, so all can see who were once blind. With this, he new his soulmate was here, he hiding underneath her nose.

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

Breathing, seeing, feeling a melting pot of emotions, Roman was keen to all that was in his surroundings. He starts to shake like an earthquake, and he starts to break into a cold sweat. He thought, What’s happening to me? He started looking around the room to see if anyone noticed. Then as he shakingly gets up from his seat, he asks the teacher to use the restroom. Ro runs into the bathroom and looks in the mirror to see that his face was awfully pale. Even though he didn’t know what state his body was currently in, Roman was finally going to meet his one true soulmate at last.

When the same overwhelming feeling came over Virgil, He stood to go to the restroom, not even asking for permission. He ran all the way down the hall, tears in her eyes. ‘Was this what’s it's like to meet your soulmate… it hurts,’ He thought as He entered the restroom, clutching her wrist. Both kids screamed in pain as the words were being etched onto their arms, watching in terror as their soulmates words entered their soul. But soon it was all over. Ro stared at his wrist in awe.

You look beautiful.

Virgil gasped as he read the sacred words.

Well you look stunning.

Both kids cried for the rest of the hour in the bathrooms, and all the way up to lunch. When Virgil realised that much that much time had past, He giggled and walked to the bio room to get her forgotten things. Roman made his way back to english, apologizing to the teacher and, when He got curious as to why he left, showed her his new soulmate mark. Who he dismissed himself he went to find Virgil and tell her the amazing news.

As Ro was looking for her, someone bumped into him and spilled lunch all over him. His mood dropped significantly, but due to his new finding, he was surprisingly still happy. He found Virgil in the library, where He always is, and ran towards her. When He looked up, they both yelled each others names. It was quite funny really. “Wow… you look… beautiful.” he looked at his wrist and hid it, blushing.

“And you look stunning.” He whipped his head in the direction of her wrist, his eyes wide. “Roman… what do-does your wrist s-say?” He blushed as He stuttered. He gulped and walked up to the suspicious girl. They both held out their wrists at the same time, gasping once they read each others. Virgil began to cry, “Finally.” Ro, still in shock, pulls Virgil in for a hug. After a few minutes Roman began to cry too. So that’s how they landed. Each others soulmates. Truth be told, it’s exactly what both lovers had wanted since they were young.

----

Tag List: @haveyourselfamerrylittlebitchmas @cinnamonlilac @figurative-falsehood @alsoyouremischievous @poppyflowerlesbian666 @just-an-abnormality

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #prinxiety #thomas sanders

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the-advocate1717 · 5 years

Text

You Are Not Alone

Summary: MJ notices that Peter has been acting strange, and is determined to find out what has been on his mind. ENDGAME SPOILERS.

MJ, Ned, and Peter were sitting at the lunch table talking about the finals that were coming up. They were stressed and freaking out because after the finals, they would be offically be juniors in high school.

“Hey Peter what will you be doing this summer?” MJ asked

She looked over to Peter and saw that he had his head down. MJ patted his back until he woke up.

“I’m sorry MJ. What was your question?” Peter yawned

MJ figured that he was probably staying up all night to study for finals, so she didn’t give it much thought about his drowsiness.

“What will you be doing this summer?”

“Oh I don't know-” he mumbled and put his head down to go back to sleep.

Ned and MJ looked at each other, and they both silently agreed that they were going to let him sleep because they knew how hard Peter had worked to go to school, while he was grieving. Not only that, but he was Spider Man and he was taking over for Mr. Stark.

When lunch was over Peter was still asleep. MJ knew that if she didn’t wake him up the grouchy lunch ladies would do the job for her.

“Peter it’s time to wake up. Peter” MJ stated while patting his back

“I wonder why he’s been so sleepy lately, it can’t just be about the finals,” Ned wondered

Ned was worried about his friend. He wasn’t the same after Mr. Stark died. He was distant, he wouldn't want to come over and build stuff out of legos, and he was tired.

Peter woke up and asked what was going on. They both explained to him that lunch was over and they needed to be in class in about three minutes.

“Oh okay. I’ll get going. MJ can I ask for a favor?” Peter asked

“Sure, what is it?”

“Can you spend the night at my house? Aunt May is going out of town, and I don’t want to be alone,”

It broke her heart how exhausted Peter was, but she was willing to do it for her boyfriend. She took his hand and said,” I have work until seven, but I’ll be there until seven thirty,”

Peter gave her a small smile, and they went their separate ways.

“No fair. I known Peter since kindergarten, and you have only known him since the eighth grade! And he invites you to spend the night at his house!” Ned pouted

MJ knew there was a reason why he didn’t ask Ned. She had been observing his behavior for weeks. He had been moody, pushing away the both of them slowly, and was always tired. It amazed her that he was still getting straight As despite it all.

She wondered what was up, and she was determined to get it out of him tonight. After her shift, she walked over to Peter’s apartment. She texted him to make sure that Aunt May wasn't there.

Hey, is Aunt May there?

Nope the coast is clear.

She knocked on the door three times, that was her signature knock. She knocked on the door three times to let him know it was there.

Peter opened the door and gave her a small smile. He let her in, and they both sat on the couch.

“Hey how about we watch a movie. I was thinking we could watch Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone,” MJ suggested

Peter agreed and they put it on. They got a fluffy blanket and they cuddled up to each other.

MJ wanted to talk to him about what was going on. She wasn’t an emotion person, but it worried about his mental health. She wanted to be there for him in every single way.

Peter was falling asleep half way through the movie, he told MJ that he was going to bed, but to feel free to stay up longer.

She did, she watched the rest of the movie and put on the next one. Suddenly she heard the front door opening, and to her surprise it was Aunt May.

“MJ. What are you doing here?” Aunt May asked

That was strange, Peter had told her that Aunt May was going to be gone all night.

“Peter had told me you were going to be gone all night,” MJ answered

“Oh, he misheard me. I was going to be gone part of the night. Work related,”

MJ nodded, and she brought up how strange Peter was acting lately. Aunt May had to know what was up lately, she lived with him.

“Peter has been struggling a lot lately. The reason why he probably wanted you here is because he has started to have horrific nightmares, and he doesn’t like to be alone when they happen. The one time I left when alone and he had a nightmare, I came home with all the lights on and him crying in the corner,” Aunt May said

Hearing that broke her heart, she hated that he was struggling so much. She wished that he would come to her or Ned, but knowing Peter he probably wanted to deal with it all by himself.

“Hey can I stay here. It’s late, and I don’t feel comfortable walking home by myself. Also my mom is working the night shift, and she locked the apartment because she thought I was spending the night at Betty’s,” MJ asked

Aunt May reassured her that she could stay over anytime she wants. Aunt May gave her a blanket, a pillow, and some of her old pajamas.

MJ dozed off on the couch, until she started hearing screaming. She jolted off of the couch and run to Peter’s room.

Aunt May met her half way there she asked,” Do you think you can handle it?”

MJ nodded, and she entered Peter’s room. She turned on the lights and ran to Peter's bed. He was thrashing around, sobbing, and screaming,” I’m sorry! Mr. Stark I’m sorry!”

MJ snapped into action, she grabbed his hands to prevent him from hurting himself, and said,” Peter it’s okay wake up. Peter wake up!”

Peter’s eye flung open and he started to breathe heavily. MJ wrapped her arms around him as he started to sob.

“Sshhh. Peter it’s okay. You’re going to be okay,” MJ whispered in his ear and rock him gently back and forth

His sobs broke her heart, she hated seeing Peter in this much pain.

“It’s my fault MJ! It’s all my fault! I should have done something, I should have fought harder!!” Peter sobbed

MJ cupped his face in her hands, she looked into Peter’s red tired eyes, she said,” Don’t ever say that. There was nothing you could have done to prevent what had happened,”

MJ heart started to break and tears were starting to form in her eyes, but she knew that she needed to be strong for just a few more minutes. She held him tighter.

Peter started hyperventilating, MJ looked at him and said,” It’s okay Peter, just breath with me,”

MJ held his hand and they started this breathing technique together. After a while Peter was calm.

“Do you want to talk about it?” MJ asked

“I miss him so much MJ. I just don’t know what to do anymore. Every night I see him dying over and over again. Everyone in my dream starts screaming it’s my fault,”

MJ kissed his hand and said,” Oh Peter. It’s not your fault, there was nothing you could have done to prevent Mr. Stark’s death,”

Peter cringed when he heard his name, it was the first time in a while he had heard someone use his name.

“You need to be nicer to yourself. You have to stop beating yourself over something you had no control over!” MJ explained

“I did have control over it! I could have fought hard, I should have done something!” Peter screamed

This scared MJ, she had never in the last three years they have known each other seen him like this. Even when his uncle died, he wouldn’t get this bad.

“Peter you need to realize that in life you can’t control. You couldn’t control what was going to happen, you couldn’t stop him from dying, and you couldn’t stop Mr. Stark from doing this,”

Peter didn’t say anything, but he knew she was right. Although a part of him believed he was responsible for this, but he was too tired to prove his point and he low key knew that MJ was going to win the argument.

“MJ, can you do something for me?” he asked while looking away

“Sure, what is it?”

“Can you stay with me?”

MJ pulled Peter in her arms and held him, she kissed him on the head.

She played with his hair and whispered sweet things in his ears. MJ was taken by on how motherly she was being, she wasn't used to letting this side of herself show.

Peter finally feel asleep in her arms. MJ slowly and carefully put his body on the bed. She grabbed the chair from his desk and pulled it near Peter, she took his hand and held it.

“Hey MJ, are you okay sweet heart?” Aunt May asked

Aunt May had been outside the entire time. She wanted to make sure she didn’t need to step in and help MJ with Peter.

Aunt May patted MJ’s back and kissed her on the head. “You did an amazing job with him. It usually takes me hours to get him back to sleep,”

At that moment, MJ started to cry herself. She cried in how much pain Peter was, she cried about how she couldn’t do anything about it, and she cried from exhaustion.

“Oh MJ, it’s okay,” Aunt May stated and hugged her

Aunt May took MJ took her to kitchen, and she started to make some tea for the both of them.

“He started having nightmares after Mr. Stark’s funeral. Happy and I are aware that he is struggling, and we are going to get him help after this episode,” Aunt May explained while making tea

Everything started to make sense to MJ; why Peter was exhausted all the time, the lack of interest in the things he used to enjoy, and why he would leave class and not return. How did she miss the obvious signs?

“Hey don’t blame yourself for this MJ. You are helping him in so many ways, he actually has plans to marry you,”

MJ gave a small smile, but she knew she was blushing. She loved Peter with all of her heart, and it made her happy that this wasn’t just your typically high school relationship. One she was dating a super hero, two when Peter says he’s going to do something, he means it.

“You. Ned, Happy, and I are going to get him through this. We will make him strong again,” Aunt May said while holding her hand

MJ went back to Peter’s room, she sat down next to him and held his hand. She kissed it repeatedly through out the early morning.

Peter woke up at around eight in the morning, he was to surprise to his MJ on the chair holding his hand.

“MJ, how long have you been sitting there?” Peter asked

“Since one in the morning, I told you I wouldn’t leave loser,” MJ replied and kissed his hand

Peter sat up on the bed, and he mumbled,” Thanks for staying with me,”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Peter went on to explain that he had been pushing them away. He felt like he wasn’t good enough for them anymore. He knew he was drowning and struggling to back to the surface, he knew he needed help but didn’t know how to get it.

“Gosh MJ, I’m such a mess,”

“Well you’re my mess, and I’m going to help clean up. Promise me you’ll let me in,”

Peter took her hand and said,” I promise,”

MJ embraced Peter in a tight hug, and she didn’t plan to let go any time soon.

Hey I hope you guys enjoyed it! I’m currently taking request, so if you want to see anything with MJ and Peter just hit me up! Also, I might continue this depending on feedback, if you want to see more just let me know. I love you all! -The Advocate

#peter x mj #spiderman angst #spiderman x mj #angst #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fluff #spiderman and mj #marvel fan fiction #marvel fandom #marvel #fluff

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fictional-worlds-are-exquisite · 6 years

Text

I heard it was national coming out day yesterday, as I, a New Zealander, tend to always hear about days too late. I wanted to share something. I don’t really have many experiences with coming out but I have one that barely counts that I’m fond of. I actually found this in my drafts and thought why not. Even if it’s nothing said directly, it was still picked up on.

The context: Year 13 English Speech Assessment, the dreaded one. It was my last year, I knew I wanted to have a REALLY good speech (whether I achieved that or not is debatable but I was happy with it considering the time limit and other factors). I’m just going to share that with you first of all.

Fear is a universal infection to which there is no universal cure. Fear does not discriminate, diversity only provides it with more opportunities for it to act. Fear will lay dormant in your bones until you come face to face with the trigger, when it will pounce and enclose you in an ever tightening embrace that only loosens when you remove yourself from the situation. Fears can be irrational or rational, it could lend a helping hand or sabotage you. We tend to think of fears as bad things but they started as an evolutionary survival instinct, they crowd the line from helpful to unhelpful, too diverse to be contained. So, who in here is scared of something? Put your hand up if you have a fear, any fear at all. If you didn’t put your hand up then science says you’re lying, think about that. There are incredibly rare conditions where a person doesn’t feel fear but these are usually linked to some sort of brain damage. Fear is unavoidable, from birth to old age, no one is truly fearless. So, why do we fear things? What types of fear are there? Despite the diversity, is there a connection? We’ll explore that in this speech.

Why do we fear things? Scientifically, it’s a survival instinct, programmed into the nervous system, it has a purpose at a very primal level, something to be helpful to us. It’s impossible to truly have no fears, there are neurological and psychological conditions that could inhibit a fear reaction but these are rare. Some people will have more fears than others, but there will always be at least one. At a very basic level, humans are hardwired to have a fight or flight reaction to perceived danger. If we didn’t, we probably would’ve gone extinct years ago. We would’ve been killed by predators for which we held no fear, precaution thrown out the window with a scoff of disregard. All humans are born with two innate fears, the fear of falling and the fear of loud sounds. Every other fear is something we develop with time and experience, usually during the first six years of your life. It isn’t entirely surprising when you think of it from an evolutionary viewpoint, loud noises can indicate predators or danger and falling from a height holds the potential to kill us. But the rest of our life, why do we develop our fears? When I was very young, I thought I had an experience involving a dog that was more than double my height, it started running at me but no one came to my aid despite my cries for help. It’s vague now but I never did remember how it ended. The truth I learned about 10 years later was that this experience was a dream but since that day I’ve been terrified of dogs. Experiencing or witnessing a traumatic event is the most common cause of fear, though it can also be learned from others who have the fear. But, traumatic events. Car crash, nearly drowning, getting burnt in a house fire, seeing someone get shot or being shot yourself. Interestingly enough, a lot of these events are related to death. You have a brush with death and he slips you a fear as a response to you cancelling your appointment with him at the last second. Which, fair enough, a little more warning is appreciated. We take this fear, we nurture it with exposure, it blooms and if you take particularly good care of it you might grow a phobia. There is a thin line between a fear and a phobia but it is a line nevertheless.

What types of fears are there? In a more general sense, there’s 5 types of fear. These are known as Extinction, Mutilation or Bodily Invasion, Loss of Autonomy, Separation or Abandonment or Rejection and Humiliation or Shame or Worthlessness. Most fears will fit into these categories if you explore the reasons behind them. But what exactly do these categories mean? Extinction refers to the fear of ceasing to exist, of annihilation. Simply saying a fear of death really doesn’t cover the extent of this category. Mutilation or Bodily Invasion is the fear of losing a part of our body, of having the boundaries of our body invaded or losing a natural body function. These are fears where we feel physically unsafe or under attack. Loss of autonomy is what could be described as claustrophobia but it's also emotional claustrophobia. Fear of being restricted, confined, trapped, suffocated, overwhelmed or smothered. Separation or abandonment or rejection is exactly as it’s said. From an evolutionary standpoint, it makes sense. If a human was kicked out of a tribe then they would probably die. From an emotional standpoint, we’re social creatures, we feel the need to belong. Humiliation or shame or worthlessness is also as it’s said, alternatively known as ego death. We have a craving for approval, to feel lovable and worthy of love. Ego death messes with this and leaves us questioning if we are indeed worthy. If we analyse some of my fears we’ll see how they sort into these categories. Scared of heights? Extinction fear. Scared of public speaking? Humiliation/shame/worthlessness fear, also known as ego-death. Scared of dogs? Mutilation or bodily invasion fear. Scared of small places? Loss of autonomy fear. Scared of coming out? Separation or abandonment or rejection fear. There’s common fears and unusual fears within these categories, some you’ve heard of and some you haven’t.

The causes of fear are diverse, the types of fear are diverse, even those with the same fear react differently, experience it differently, but there is always the common factor of fear itself. Fear manifests in different ways, with different triggers, with different intensities and has different consequences. But that fear you feel in the pit of your stomach, being frightened, being scared of every future second and the possibilities it holds are the same. The label of scared is one we all keep, be it buried away or worn on a sleeve. Fear follows us everywhere hidden away or in plain sight. It tails us like an assassin waiting for the perfect time to strike. And we relate to each other, we sympathise and we empathise because we know how the other feels.

In conclusion, fear is a universal infection to which there is no universal cure. There are so many strands for it and so many ways we caught the infection. But regardless of this diversity, regardless of the true extent of the infection, we relate. We relate to the paralysing fear, to the absolute panic flooding the brain, to each other. With so many different countries, cultures, religions, languages, people and personalities in this world it’s hard to find a universal connection. But maybe the connection doesn’t need to lack diversity, maybe a diverse connection through the human race is what connects us all. Maybe that connection is fear.

Now you might have noticed a little line in there in the second body paragraph, really only four words. But those four words made the rest of my speech seem simple in comparison because I was so scared to say them. ‘scared of coming out.’ This was quite a step, I only had one person I knew in real life that knew I wasn’t straight and they weren’t at my high school. And suddenly I just decided to tell my entire class, should they pick up on it, that I’m not straight. It was my way of taking that step, rather than telling one person I was just going to tell everyone.

The result? People noticed. I did pause before saying it due to nerves so they probably started paying attention. My friend since kindergarten came up and hugged me and told me she was proud of me despite the fact that I was still technically being filmed and hadn’t done my Q&A section. I remember one tear fell. I was trying to keep it together because I was still being assessed but that one tear escaped, I was so emotional. I had some others in the class showing support. Some people seemed confused, some people smiled, there was not a single negative comment. And the surprising part? It never really left the class, not in a way that spread anyway. I even had someone ask me if I was out to my parents, if they could tell their mum or if I wasn’t comfortable with that (our parents are friends) and! I never expected that level of consideration!

My teacher I think was confused throughout the whole thing, like she’d missed something important and was trying to figure out what. But we had lunch next and what do I get? An email from her.

Not going to lie, I started crying. That was really the first adult response I’d had and it was positive.

Fast-forward a few months to my birthday and I get a card from a good friend of mine. She never said much about my speech at the time and I was a little concerned because I knew she had a religious background. Written, ‘I just can’t emphasise enough how good your speech was Lindsey! I never really told you, but that blew me away! You’re so brave and strong Lindsey! I don’t think there was anyone that was not touched by your speech, you came out of nowhere and hit everyone in the heart!’ there’s no way of telling if she was referring to that line at all but really? It seems like she was at least a bit to me, based on how I know her. Even if she wasn’t it’s general support that I appreciate (she’s great haha, working my ego up).

The point is, I took a risk and not all experiences are bad. Nothing bad came out of this. Not one thing. I know I never said ‘I’m bisexual’ explicitly but people were smart enough to gather the non-straight implication and do what they wanted with it. Somehow my parents still don’t know and this community talks, especially when your mum knows everyone. It’s not that I think they’d react badly it’s just a daunting experience and they’re also VERY oblivious and keep missing every single subtle and not subtle hint I throw their way (I have done everything but say hey guys, I’m bisexual. Seriously. I’ve even used the term girlfriend!). And I appreciate people keeping it to themselves despite me never asking. When I went into that speech I half expected my mum to have been told by 5 different people by the end of the day, there was nothing. I kept expecting it, nothing. It’s been months, nothing. It’s a little bit of respect I never expected when I shared it with so many people.

I just think, maybe this won’t mean anything to anyone but sometimes hearing a positive experience is nice. And I’m more than happy to be that person. I’m bisexual and proud and I will let it be known on my own terms, in a community of supportive people. Even if they don’t agree, they don’t actively disagree and I appreciate that too. I think it’s an attitude the world would be better with. So if it’s still that day in your timezone, happy coming out day. It’s okay if you’re not out and it’s okay if it’s hard for you to come out. I mean, I’m somehow out to pretty much everyone but my family at this point even though they’d be fine with it. It’s your process. Take your time. I’m proud of where you’re at no matter what!

#national coming out day #bisexual #y'know this might not mean anything to literally anyone reading it #and that's okay #cause if it doesn't no harm has been done #and if it does then well it does #not losing anything here

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skeletonscribbles · 6 years

Note

1 with Richie and Eddie for the writing prompts!

Got you covered, friend! Hope the Tumblr crowd is feeling a Stan POV on Reddie, because I sure as hell was. This is straight comedy, too, so those of you who are here because of Wildflowers…here’s proof that it’s not sad around here ALL the time.

#1, by the way, is “Yes, I did say that, but I didn’t think you were going to be a dumbass!”

And here we have:

Sugar, Spice, and Bad AdviceT-ish for language and reference to Richie’s dick (deep sigh)2500 words

Summary: Stan has absolutely no idea why Richie comes to him for romantic advice...so, like any respectable businessman, he outsources.

Stanley Uris did not consider himself a romantic person by any means.

He appreciated romance, certainly. From a very young age, he was poring through books with clever heroines and rooting for them to end up living happily with attractive, intelligent partners. (More often than not, said heroines never encountered anyone as smart as they were, and so they had to settle. Stan thought that was a shame. If he were writing books, he would write romance very differently.) That said, in real life, he tended to be more realistic and less dreamy about matters of the heart.

All of this being the case, it really didn’t make any sense at all that Richie Tozier was coming to him for romantic advice…but then, Stan had long since come to terms with the fact that nothing about Richie made any sense.

“You’ve gotta help me out here, buddy,” Richie was saying, pacing back and forth as Stan watched him disinterestedly from the couch. “I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to say to him…do I say anything to him? Fuck, Stan, I’m gonna fuck this up, I’m such a piece of shit and he’s so….so….”

“Paranoid?” Stan offered, thinking of Eddie and smiling thinly. “Shrill?”

That was another baffling thing about the situation: Richie was pining over Eddie. Eddie, who they’d known since kindergarten; Eddie, who cried in sixth grade because Greta Bowie wrote the word ‘cancer’ on one of his papers in Social Studies. Dirty, lewd Richie Tozier was having feelings for nervous, naive Eddie Kaspbrak. It was highly illogical, and Stan usually hated things that were illogical….but for whatever reason, his brain was somewhat settled with the idea of this particular pair of friends getting together, which was bizarre in and of itself.

Richie threw himself on to the couch with a groan, sprawling across Stan’s legs. Stan tried to kick at him, but he was pinned under Richie’s lanky frame. “I was going to say perfect,” Richie sighed wistfully, blowing a strand of hair out of his eyes.

Stan made an exaggerated whipping sound and gesture, and Richie responded by pulling himself over and blowing a raspberry onto Stan’s knee.

“Disgusting.” Stan shoved Richie off of the couch, and Richie hit the floor with a hard thud. “Have you asked anyone else for advice about this? Perhaps they’d be able to do a little more for you than roll their eyes.”

Richie raised his head, peeking at Stan over the side of the couch. “You think they’d be okay with it? I keep thinking that Big Bill’s gonna kill me immediately upon hearing that I have designs on Eds’ virtue.”

“Don’t say that thing about virtue again. It was awful.” Stan shook his head, shuddering. “And trust me when I say that Bill is all for you and Eddie finally getting your fucking shit together.”

That much, at least, was true. Stan’s entire last conversation with Bill, much to his dismay, had been centered around getting Richie and Eddie to stop pining for each other. In fact, Stan’s recent conversations with most of the other Losers had been centered around getting Richie and Eddie to stop pining for each other. The situation was pretty universally annoying.

“Wait, but why would Bill’s love advice be better than yours?” Richie was looking at him curiously. “Or Bev’s or Ben’s or Mike’s, for that matter?”

Stan looked back at him flatly. “Richie. You know me.”

Richie thought about that, and then nodded. “Fair point. So…”

“Try Mike first,” Stan advised, thinking of Mike’s warm smile and feeling a little hot. “He’s got game.”

—-

The next day at school, Richie approached Eddie with a small bouquet of flowers.

It was, without a doubt, the worst bouquet that Stan had ever seen.

Richie had obviously picked it himself. Half of the flowers still had roots attached, and the bouquet was pretty much only made up of dandelions and violets, with the odd daisy or tulip that he’d probably taken illegally from someone’s garden. Richie had been clutching them tightly for quite a while, and they were starting to go limp in his grip.

In short, there was no fucking way that Eddie was going to touch that, and sure enough, when Eddie showed up, he recoiled.

“Richie, did you go through Mrs. Conway’s garden again? I TOLD you, she doesn’t grow marijuana! Not that you’d even know what marijuana looks like anyway, Went would fucking end you if he smelled smoke on your–”

Richie cut off Eddie’s tirade by shoving the flowers towards him. “They’re for you, Eds! And only a few of them are from Mrs. Conway’s.”

Eddie stared at him, horrified. “You expect me to touch those? First of all, you’ve been sweating all over them for probably twenty minutes now. Second, poison ivy–”

“Okay, if I don’t know what marijuana looks like, you definitely don’t know what poison ivy looks like,” Richie interjected hotly.

“I know what poison ivy looks like,” Stan informed them, unable to help himself.

“No you fucking don’t, jackass. Not every plant is poison ivy,” Richie all but yelled, face crimson with either frustration or embarrassment (Stan couldn’t tell).

“Anyways, asshat, bad fucking joke. Do better next time.” Eddie stomped towards the high school in a huff, and Richie looked helplessly over at Mike, who had been watching the whole escapade unfold with a grim expression.

“So, flowers are out,” Mike finally said, shrugging. “Sorry, Rich.”

“Shit.” Richie dropped the “bouquet” and sighed. “It’s okay, Mikey, you meant well.”

“That’s pretty much the extent of my flirting expertise, unless you want to bring Eddie a chicken.” Mike wrinkled his nose at the thought. “And that’s a terrible idea, by the way. He’d flip.”

“I’d pay to see that,” Bev muttered, obviously visualizing Eddie’s inevitable chicken meltdown.

Richie turned to look at Beverly after she spoke, cogs obviously turning in his head. “What about you, Bevvy? Any grand ideas for what is now apparently my crowdsourced seduction of Eds Kaspbrak?”

“Bevvy has nothing,” Bev said solemnly, opening her arms and closing her eyes. “Bevvy was clever enough to land the perfect guy without having to resort to cheap tactics.”

Richie flipped her off with both hands, and Ben crossed to her to hug her from behind, beaming.

“I have a thought,” Ben said, smiling into Bev’s hair.

“Yes?” Richie crossed his arms.

“Beverly doesn’t have a suggestion…” Ben trailed off, eyes glinting, “…but Benverly does.”

“I’m listening,” said Richie, narrowing his eyes.

—-

Ben had wooed Beverly by way of a little haiku-esque poem, and so his advice to Richie was, predictably, to put together some sort of piece of writing for Eddie.

Stan knew right away that this plan was destined to fail, but he kept his mouth shut and let Richie try, not wanting to become the advice-giver again. The strategy was good, all in all, but for it to be effective Richie would have to be…less Richie, which was impossible.

A week after the bouquet, Richie joined the Losers in their before-school spot wearing a nice, collared shirt (buttoned all the way up, so no one could see the graphic tee underneath) and a pair of khakis that was slightly less wrinkled than Stan expected from him. He had obviously attempted to comb down his wild curls - attempted being the keyword. It wasn’t a look that suited Richie at all, but he was almost endearing, Stan thought, just by virtue of his obvious effort. (Almost.)

When Eddie arrived a minute later, he just about tripped over his own two feet gawking at Richie.

“Did Stan let you borrow clothes, or what?” he asked, staring unabashedly at the buttons on Richie’s shirt.

Stan resented that, and was about to tell Eddie so, but Richie was pulling a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, so he held himself back.

“Eds,” he began, pulling at the collar of his shirt. “Spaghetti-o.”

Eddie buried his hands in his hair, pulling nervously. “What is happening.”

“Your freckles are like constellations,” Richie began. He was playing it off like he wasn’t nervous, but there was a telltale shakiness to his voice. “They trail up to the galaxies of your eyes….”

Stan couldn’t help but be impressed. Almost a whole line in, and Richie hadn’t mentioned Eddie’s mom once.

Eddie was less enthused. “I’m really fucking tired of being the butt of your jokes, Richie.”

“It’s not a joke,” Richie explained exasperatedly.

“And my mom isn’t the biggest bitch in Derry,” Eddie jeered, fed up. “Let’s just go to class, okay? Mike, did you understand the statistics homework?”

Mike looked defeatedly around at the other Losers, and then joined Eddie in walking back towards the school building. Once they were far enough away, Richie threw his poem in the air in frustration.

“If it helps, I thought you were off to a good start,” Stan offered.

“It doesn’t help,” Richie grumbled.

Ben looked perturbed. “I really thought he’d go for that. We took all references to Richie’s dick out of it and everything.”

Ah. So Ben had a hand in the creation of the poem. The sweetness of it suddenly made sense.

“Looks like it’s on you, now, Denbrough,” Bev said, looking expectantly at Bill. Bill swallowed hard, and Stan rolled his eyes. If Bill couldn’t figure out that Stan had been flirting with him for the past three years, he wouldn’t be able to help Richie.

“I could p-probably suggest something,” Bill said meekly, and it was all Stan could do not to bang his head into the nearby telephone pole.

—-

“I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again,” Stan hissed, “Bill’s advice is garbage, and this is a disaster.”

Bill Denbrough, literary genius that he was, was absolutely horrible at romantic suggestions. He had reminded Richie that Eddie had a sweet tooth, and had advised him to make cookies for Eddie as a gift (and as a kind-of apology for the last two disastrous attempts at flirting).

So far, Richie had burnt two batches, and the batter consistency of the third was…alarming, to say the least. He’d called Stan in a panic some twenty minutes ago, and Stan had pedaled over in a huff, cursing Bill Denbrough’s name.

“You’re the one that said it would be a good idea to ask the other Losers how to go about doing this!” Richie retorted, gesticulating wildly with a cup of flour and then groaning as most of the flour flew out of the cup and on to the floor.

“Yes, I did say that, but I didn’t think you were going to be a dumbass!” Stan went for the broom and dustpan, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on.

“You didn’t?! Come on, dude.” Richie leaned on the counter, took off his glasses, and rubbed at his eyes. “You call me a dumbass, like, every day.”

“Yes, and I mean it, and this time I mean it about the rest of our friends, too. And Eddie. Dumbasses, all.” Stan swept the flour neatly into the dustbin, scowling. “Just tell him how you feel. The hokey tactics that everyone is suggesting are terrible. Ask each other out pointblank, for fuck’s sake.”

“Ask who out?” A high-pitched, familiar voice sounded from the doorway, and Richie whipped around so fast Stan was a little worried that he’d break something (probably himself).

“Eds?” Richie panicked and headed for the trash can, seemingly to try and block Eddie from seeing its contents. “Uh, what?”

“Bev said she thought she could see smoke coming from your house, so she sent me over to check,” Eddie said, and Stan silently thanked Bev for trying to be proactive about shutting down Bill’s stupid cookie plot. “Who are you asking out, Richie?”

Stan could all but see the ‘your mom’ that was racing to make its way out of Richie’s mouth. Fortunately, he was standing close enough to remedy it. He kicked at Richie’s ankle, and when Richie looked over at him, he gave him a significant look, hoping that that would be enough for Richie to remember what they had just been talking about.

Richie nodded, and took a deep breath. “I, um, have something to tell you, Eds, and, uh, you might not like it–”

“Is it that you like me?” Eddie asked nonchalantly. “Because I know that.”

Richie gaped. “Say what now?”

“I’m not stupid.” Eddie shrugged and peered past Richie, trying to discern what was in the trash can. “You’ve been acting weird for a while, and then you started dressing differently and bringing in weird stuff for me. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”

“And you’re not mad?” Richie asked weakly.

“Nah.” Eddie stuck his hands in his pockets. “With the poem, I was just mad you were trying to pull that shit in public.”

“And the flowers?”

Eddie fixed Richie with a look. “If you can call them that, you mean.”

“All right, all right, fine.” Richie’s ears went red. “But…Christ, Eddie, why didn’t you tell me?”

Eddie smiled. “I kind of wanted to see what you’d do.” He paused, examining Richie’s face. “I like you too, by the way…even if you did burn a fuckton of cookies today.”

“Oh,” Richie blurted, grabbing his glasses from off of the counter. “Um. Can I kiss you?”

“Wait until I leave, for the love of God,” Stan begged, jolting up from where he had been leaning on the counter.

Richie and Eddie both jumped. They’d obviously forgotten that Stan was still there.

“Looks like your advice was the best after all, Stanny Boy,” Richie grinned after a moment, sliding closer to Eddie and throwing his arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “I was right the first time about which Loser to listen to.”

“Was Stan’s advice to just cut the crap and go for it?” Eddie asked. Richie nodded, and Stan rolled his eyes. They made him sound so ineloquent.

“He always tells it like it is,” Richie said fondly.

“He is truly the best of us,” Eddie agreed. “Now if you don’t mind, Stanley, you absolute gem of a human…get out of here so I can make out with Richie against this disaster zone of a counter.”

“With pleasure,” Stan said, all but bolting out of the door.

He was smiling, though, in spite of everything.

Maybe he was a little romantic, after all.

—-

(And even though he still thought that the other Losers had hokey romantic tactics, when he received a bouquet of flowers from one anonymous admirer and a batch of cookies from another, he couldn’t help but feel warm inside.)

#ask #reddie #reddie fanfic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #stanley uris #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #benverly #bill/stan/mike #it 2017 #stephen king's it #it movie #loser's club #i can't ever help myself from writing copious amounts of stan #he's not so secretly my favorite loser #pretend that mike went to school with the rest of them ok

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thegreatwhiteferret · 6 years

Text

I Can’t Help Myself

Summary: Vic had died a little inside when Mrs. Banks had said his name after Tozier’s. It was no secret that the Losers Club had always been the bane of Henry’s existence. That meant that Vic was supposed to hate them too, and after taking beatings every time the Losers did something to thwart Henry, Vic had an overall discontempt for them. Richie Tozier more so than the others, for reasons that Vic never really let himself explore.

Pairing: Victor Criss/Richie Tozier

Rating: Explicit

A/N: Alright, cards on the table, Vic Criss does not get enough love. And yes, I know that he is a bully and part of the Bower’s Gang, but he is a wonderful character to play with and expand upon. This fic was requested by an Anon after I begged for something that would allow me to write a Vic Fic. I am so sorry that it took me so long, I got swamped with requests and lost some inspiration, but I am busting my ass to get it back. I hope that y’all like this and GIVE VIC CRISS A FUCKING CHANCE. (Also I really fucking love writing Richie Tozier, God damn.) 💖💖💖

NSFW Under the Cut...

“We will be having an exam on Antiderivative and Indefinite integrals next Tuesday. I will be assigning you study partners, now to keep you accountable, I will also be passing out a log that you need to both sign and you both will also be responsible for handing in all of your notes. That means that I will know if you haven’t met up with your partner.” Mrs. Banks instructed from the front of the room, she was met with the collective groans of sixteen high school seniors. She chuckled slightly at their pain. “I know, I know, I am just the absolute worst. This is what you get for taking AP Calculus.” She moved towards her desk and pulled out a list of names. Richie raised his hand and she nodded at him to go ahead.

“Mrs. Banks, is there a minimum amount of time that we have to spend with our study partner?” He asked, pushing his thick glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Contrary to popular belief, Richie was all business when it came to his actual classes. He and the rest of the Losers had been talking about all going to college in Boston for years, and Richie had his heart set on M.I.T.. Applications were due in a few weeks and he was not about to do anything to mess his chances up.

“Well Mr. Tozier, I would say that a good minimum to set would be two hours, because I know that you all have work for your other classes, but in all honesty, I think you should work with your partner until both of you are completely confident with your understanding. Who knows? You might enjoy your study partner and choose to work with them for the rest of the year.”

Richie nodded in understanding, he looked around the room to see who he might possibly end up with. His eyes settled on his best friend Stan in the desk next to him.

“Keep looking, Richie, you know there is no way she is going to partner us up together. Every teacher in this school knows that we have been friends since we were toddlers. They want variety in the pairings.” Stan muttered, without even looking up from his notes.

“Well that is just...homophobic.” Richie settled on and Stan shot him a glare that told him to cut the bullshit. Richie rolled his eyes and began looking around the room again. He was a little bummed when he first found out that he and Stan were the only ones out of the Losers who were admitted into the class, but he wasn’t completely shocked. Bill exceeded in English, Mike and Ben in History, Bev was all over art, and Eddie was taking all of the extra science classes that he could to prepare for pre-med.

As he looked around the room he was striked by the fact that although he had known all of these people since kindergarten, he didn’t really know any of them. He might be able to pull their names out of his ass, but anything more than that would be impossible. His eyes settled on a figure slumped over his desk in the back of the room, a shock of blonde hair falling into his eyes as he read through his notes. It was Vic Criss. Richie had been shocked to find out how intelligent he was, once the Bowers gang broke up a few years prior and Vic actually began to apply himself. No longer afraid of what Henry and Patrick would do to him if they found out that he was actually smart.

Then Patrick had been sent to a juvenile detention center somewhere in Kansas or another bum fuck state like that, a facility that could control his mental illness and prevent him from harming any other living thing. That had happened when Richie was a freshman. Henry had still tried to terrorize people, but without the resident psychopath, his threats didn’t seem so harsh. Instead of asserting his dominance over the entire student body, he took it out on his much smaller and weaker boyfriend.

Richie didn’t know the full story of what happened. He had heard rumors that Belch had been the one that saved Vic’s life, carried him to the hospital himself to receive help one Wednesday night in late fall when Vic and Richie were sophomores, but no one ever knew for sure. All anyone knew for sure was that when Vic had returned to school the following Monday, he looked like a train had hit him. His already pale skin was covered in painful looking bruises. He yelped everytime he sat down or moved too suddenly.

Belch became his bodyguard and escorted him through the halls, making sure no one touched him. Henry being the lovely human that he was blew up one day a week or so later, calling Vic a pathetic little slut who was too much of a sissy to take it like a man in front of everyone at lunch. Vic had run off in tears as Belch and Henry started swinging at each other. Eddie had been the one to follow Vic into the boys bathroom and held him as he cried, reassuring him that everything would be okay.

Richie wasn’t supposed to know about that. At least, he figured that Vic would probably prefer if no one ever knew. Eddie had told Richie in confidence, needing to get it off the chest, and Richie promised to never mention it again. He wouldn’t of course, Richie knew when to keep his mouth shut.

“Okay, then.” Richie was pulled out of his thoughts when Mrs. Banks cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention. She had found the appropriate list for the class, and Richie could vaguely see that there were two columns on the paper. “Let’s see...Mr. Uris, you will be working with Miss Bloom…” Stan groaned slightly, Pattie had had a crush on him for the last year and a half and refused to accept that he was in love and in a relationship with Mike. A few more names were read off the list, and then he finally heard his own. “And Mr. Tozier, your partner will be Mr. Criss. You have the rest of class to set a schedule to meet up. I’ll be here to answer any questions you have.”

Richie’s eyes drifted to the back of the classroom again and his eyes automatically found Vic’s. He tried to send him a polite grin, but Vic just nodded towards him a solemn look on his face, and dropped his eyes down to his notebook again.

Richie sighed, he had no idea how this was going to work out.

Vic tapped his pencil gently against the table in the library where he was sitting, waiting for Richie. Vic had died a little inside when Mrs. Banks had said his name after Tozier’s. It was no secret that the Losers Club had always been the bane of Henry’s existence. That meant that Vic was supposed to hate them too, and after taking beatings every time the Losers did something to thwart Henry, Vic had an overall discontempt for them. Richie Tozier more so than the others, for reasons that Vic never really let himself explore.

He was about to just give up on Richie ever arriving, he was twenty three minutes late already, but then there was a crash at the front of the library and suddenly a sprinting figure with black curls and an outrageously loud printed shirt was coming in his direction and sliding into the seat across from him.

“Shit...hi! Sorry I’m late.” Richie apologized, slightly gasping for breath. Vic shot him an unimpressed look and opened his binder, trying to locate the specific notes he needed. Richie eyed him as he did this. “You know that you’re going to have to talk to me right? For this whole study buddies thing to work, it’s going to involve talking.”

“I’m aware, Tozier. But thank you so much for checking in and making sure that I did. I appreciate it.” Vic replied cooley, his voice void of any emotion. It made Richie want to squirm in his seat, he didn’t like it one bit. Richie groaned, they needed to clear the air.

“Alright, Criss. Let’s get it over with, cards on the table. Why do you hate me so much?” Richie asked point blank, Vic lifted his eyes from his papers and stared at Richie for a moment, he groaned when he realized that Richie didn’t find his actions intimidating.

“I don’t. I don’t hate you.” Vic mumbled, it was so low that Richie had to strain to hear him. He shot Vic another pointed look. “Jesus Christ, what do you want me to say, Tozier? You know how it was. Our groups didn’t get along. It’s as easy as that. I don’t hate you, I don’t particularly like you, but I don’t hate you.”

“Well then…” Richie started, a wicked smirk crossing his face. “We will just have to change that, won’t we?” He let out a low chuckle, and Vic knew he was in for it. He wasn’t going to escape these study sessions unscathed.

The thing is, that when Richie sets his mind to something, he gets it done. It’s a fact that infuriated the other Losers at times. Last year when he had heard about the Women’s March in D.C. he decided that Bev had to be there to experience it for herself. Everyone shook the idea off at first, it was too expensive, too far, but Richie believed in himself and sure enough, he and Bev walked the streets of the capital wearing their pink pussy hats.

Vic was no different for him, he was determined to make the boy either like or hate him, preferably like. He couldn’t stand the neutrality of being in between.

The thing that was different for him was how surprised he was that he enjoyed Vic’s company so much. Vic was really intelligent, but in the way that he still had to work hard for his grades, like Stan did. Richie had always been able to walk in completely unprepared for an exam, and still pull a high grade.

Vic was also surprisingly funny, he didn’t even have to try. Richie really enjoyed finding that out about him, sharing hushed laughs in the library. They met after school every single day, long after the first test had come and gone. He really enjoyed their study sessions, although they rarely got much studying done. Vic was becoming a really good friend.

Vic wasn’t sure when exactly it happened. Somewhere in between mathematical formulas and stupid jokes, he fell for Richie Tozier.

He resisted for as long as he could, reminded himself of all of the pain that Richie had inadvertently caused him over the years.], but every time that he tried to get himself to hate him, all he could see was that goofy smile, freckled face, and his kind brown eyes hidden behind his huge glasses. He was so far gone for him.

He closed the door to his room, flicking the lock closed and dropping his backpack on the floor before throwing himself on his bed. He had just gotten back from one of his study sessions with Richie, and the bastard had licked his lips every five seconds, causing a familiar heat to pool in Vic’s abdomen.

He wiggled his jeans down his hips kicking them off and onto the floor. His flannel and t-shirt went next until he was laying in just his boxers and socks. He let the heel of his palm press lightly into his clothed cock, feeling how hard he already was. He raced to get his boxers off next, his cock springing free to curve up against his belly.

He squeezed a pump of lotion out from the bottle on his bedside table, and rubbed his fingers together in an attempt to warm it up, and then his hand was on his cock. Jerking in a slow and familiar rhythm. He closed his eyes and threw his head back into his pillows, moaning out at the feeling of his own hand. He thumbed his slit slightly, collecting the drops of precum that had collected there and let them mix with the lotion. He kept jerking up and down, flicking his wrist when he would get close to the head.

Images flashed behind his closed eyes. He imagined running his fingers through those messy dark curls, and pulling on them. God, he would pull on them so hard while Richie swallowed his cock. Then there were Richie’s fingers, long and slim, skilled from playing the guitar, Vic could imagine how the callices would feel against his delicate insides, fucking him open. His tongue, that sinful tongue. Vic wanted that tongue inside of him. In his mouth, God in his ass.

Vic could feel his orgasm fast approaching, his hand sped up, chasing release. He rubbed his thumb against the sensitive ridge under the head of the cock, just on the verge of painful, and then he let himself imagine what Richie’s cock would look like. Long and slim, but impressive, just like Richie himself. He jerked two more times before he was cumming. He felt his toes curl and his entire body spasm, spurts of milky white cum landing on his chest. He stroked himself slowly through it, before he fully collapsed onto his pillows.

Not even a moment later, he felt the shame kick in. Of what he had just done. He needed to keep control of himself. He couldn’t let this go on any longer, what if he slipped up at school? What would happen then.

A stray look and a small smile on his face. That was all it took for Vic’s feelings for Richie to be noticed by the worst possible person. Henry.

It happened at lunch. Vic and belch were sitting off in the corner where they always did, the Losers at their own table in the middle of the chaos. Richie had stood on the cafeteria table and started to perform what was surely the worst Irish step dance in history. Bill and Ben had tried to pull him down off of the table, but he was surprisingly strong and coordinated enough to leave them toppled over while he was still upright. The other Losers just shook their heads at his antics, Bev recording the whole thing on her phone.

Vic smiled at the sight. The sight of the happy boy that he liked dancing goofily on a cafeteria table. It felt like only seconds had passed before he was being lifted out of his seat and slammed into the floor. He gasped for air, head throbbing from impact. He looked up to see Henry, damn near foaming at the mouth above him. Belch moved to help Vic up, but Henry shot him a warning glance, the kind that told everyone that he would actually slit his former friend’s throat if he had the chance.

“ARE YOU FUCKING HIM YOU LITTLE FAGGOT?” He screamed down at him, Vic tried to scramble up to his feat, but Henry pushed him back down by his shoulders. “I ASKED YOU A QUESTION YOU DUMB SLUT. ARE YOU FUCKING RICHIE TOZIER?”

“N-no NO.” He stammered out, his chest felt heavy, like he couldn’t fully breath. He wished that he had his anxiety medication on him, but Henry never believed in those pills anyway and would have just thrown them away.

“What are you Stuttering Bill now?” Henry asked with a cruel laugh, he squatted down in front of Vic, he was so close that Vic could smell of stale cigarettes that clung to Henry’s tongue, and something else he knew all too well, beer. “I saw you smile at him Victor. You pathetic little fag, in love with a Loser?” Henry looked at someone behind Vic and sneered. Vic didn’t have to look to know that it was Richie.

“HEY BOWERS! Why don’t you leave him the fuck alone?” A voice called out, it was Richie’s, and it made Vic’s heart clench in his chest. Why couldn’t Richie just keep his mouth shut. Let Vic take this beating, and just move on with their lives.

“Why don’t you shut your fucking mouth, Tozier?” Henry spat, and his attention was back on Vic who had managed to stand up, but was struggling to keep his balance. “Does he know, Vicky? Does he know what a pathetic little slut you are, all the things you let me do to you? What you let me AND Patrick do to you?” Henry snarled, and Vic’s breath caught in his throat.

He hadn’t let them. In fact he had convinced himself that it was all a dream, that the pain that he had felt in his ass, like he was being torn open until he bled, was just a dream. They had gotten him drunk and high, just enough that he would be pliable, but not enough for him to black out, he honestly thought that he would have prefered that more, but then he wouldn’t have been able to feel what they were doing to him, and that was truly Pat’s kink. Causing people horrendous pain. Henry liked the dominating side of it, and that night he had. He had dominated Vic without his consent, and let his boyfriend be violated by his friend as well, at the same time. The painful memories came flooding back in Vic’s mind. He could feel the tears pricking his eyes.

“That’s right, Vicky. You remember good and well. He’s never going to want you, even trash like him wouldn’t want something used and destroyed like you.” That was the last thing Vic heard, because he was running again, he had to get out of there, away from him. He was tired of Henry tearing him down like this, in front of people, it was cruel. This time he didn’t just run to a bathroom and hide, he hightailed it out of the front doors of the school and just ran.

He collapsed to his knees once he reached the park, body overcome with emotion and unable to physically continue. Sobs began wretching themselves from his throat, tears flowing freely now. He hadn’t heard anyone behind him, but then he felt a hand touch his shoulder and he flung himself backwards, scared at the prospect of it being Henry, there to finish him off.

“Hey, I’m so sorry. Vic, can you look at me?” A soft voice said, and he whimpered at the sound, he knew that voice. It was Richie. He blinked back tears and turned his head to look at the other boy. Richie wore a concerned expression on his face, and he moved to kneel in front of Vic, careful not to touch him again. Afraid that he would spook him. “It’s just me, Vic. It’s just me.” He soothed.

Vic nodded, and tried to get control of his breathing, he moved closer to Richie, allowing him to wrap an arm around his shoulders. Richie rocked him back and forth in his arms for a few minutes, until Vic had stopped shaking.

“I…” Richie started, but stopped, trying to figure out how to word what he wanted to say. “I am so sorry, that he said those things to you, that he physically did what he did today, and everything else he did before. I’m so sorry, Vic. You don’t deserve that.” Richie told him softly.

“You don’t know that.” Vic said, voice small as he shook his head. “You don’t know me. I’m pathetic, just like Henry said. I let him do those things to me…” He couldn’t continue, he keeled over and began retching into the grass, the newfound memories present in his mind.

“I don't think that you’re pathetic. I think that you are so strong.” Richie told him, and Vic scoffed slightly. “And I would really really like to get to know you. More than I do already, because I like you Vic. I think you’re special.” Vic looked up at him with tear filled eyes.

“You mean that?” Vic asked, and Richie just nodded. They stayed still and silent for a few more minutes, before Richie was pulling himself into a standing position and reaching a hand down to help Vic right himself.

“Why don’t we go back to my house? I can make you some tea, and we can get to know each other a bit better. How does that sound?” Richie asked sweetly, and Vic could feel his stomach flutter at the tone.

“That sounds perfect.” Vic told him, and let Richie grab his hand, leading him down the streets of Derry to his house.

Vic let out a yawn and stretched as he began to fully wake up, he was in an unfamiliar bed and it startled him for a moment. He was about to panic when the door to the room opened and Richie walked in with two mugs.

“Hey, you’re up.” Richie said with a soft smile, Vic must have looked confused, because he continued. “You were really worn out when we finally got back here, you’re in my house by the way, so I figured that it would be best to just let you sleep for a while, you’ve had a rough day.” Richie told him, handing Vic one of the mugs.

“Thanks.” He said, accepting it and taking a small sip of the hot herbal liquid. “For everything, for following me and getting me somewhere safe.” Vic said, nothing but sincerity and gratitude in his voice.

“Of course.” Richie smiled at him again, he really needed to stop doing that. “Vic...can we talk about what happened, what Henry said?”

“I...I don’t really want to talk about the abuse...the things he did to me…” Vic said sadly, a hiccup making its way out of his throat, a sign of how upset the topic made him.

“No. Not that, although if you ever feel comfortable telling me, I would listen as best as I could.” Richie told him. “I was referring to what Henry was saying, about you having feelings for me...do you?” He asked softly, voice full of something that was hard for Vic to pinpoint.

“I do. I’m sorry, I tried so hard to fight the feelings, but I just couldn’t.” Vic confessed, a frown etched on his face. Richie gently grasped Vic’s chin and pulled it up so that he was looking him in the eye.

“I’m glad you couldn’t, because well, I couldn’t either.” Richie told him and Vic’s eyes went wide with shock.

“W-wh-what?” He choked out, and Richie let out a small laugh before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to Vic’s lips. He pulled back almost immediately, watching the smaller boy’s face to see his reaction.

“Was that okay?” Richie asked, that mysterious tone was back, self doubt he recognized it as now. His eyes held so much hope, but also fear.

“FUCK YES!” Vic cried out, surging forward to capture Richie’s lips with his again. He crawled into Richie’s lap easily, refusing to break the kiss. Richie held onto his hips, while Vic ran his hands up and down Richie’s back. They pulled back after a few minutes, desperate to catch their breaths. “Richie…?” Vic asked, gaining his attention. “Will you fuck me, nice and slow and lovingly? I’ve never had that before.” Richie’s breath got caught and he choked slightly.

“Are you sure? It’s been an emotional day…” Richie started to ask, but was cut off when Vic pressed his lips to Richie’s again.

“I’ve never been more sure of something in my life. I trust you, please make me feel again.” Vic said softly, and Richie nodded. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, and stood to pull his jeans off as well. Vic followed suit, pulling his sweatpants and long sleeved t-shirt off as well. Richie let out an audible gasp when he saw some of the scarring that Vic had on his arms and his chest, he knew that they were battle wounds left by Henry.

Richie helped Vic to lay back on the pillows, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before moving down to his chest. Richie pressed a sweet kiss to each of Vic’s visible scars. Acknowledging all of the pain that he had been through. When he was finished, he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Vick’s briefs and looked up at him for permission, Vic nodded and Richie pulled them over his ass and down his legs, so that Vic was laying completely bare in front of him. He licked his lips at the sight.

“Can I suck you off, Sweetheart?” Richie asked, and Vic moaned at the thought. Henry had never done that for him, in fact Vic had never had a proper blow job in his entire life, and here his crush was asking him if he could. He nodded in consent. Richie moved forward, wrapping his hand around the base of Vic’s cock and guiding it to his lips. He took it in easily, letting his mouth slide up and down the shaft. Vic let his hand rest in Richie’s curls and Richie groaned, encouraging Vic to tug his hair slightly. When he did, Richie moaned louder, the vibrations sending shock waves through Vic’s cock. It was beautiful, but he didn’t want to cum from just that.

“Richie, if you don’t stop I’m gonna...you know.” Vic let out, and Richie pulled off with a pop, smiling up at him.

“Okay, I’ve got you, how about we try some fingers next? I’ll take it nice and slow, working you open for my cock.” Richie told him.

“Yesyesyesyes.” Vic rushed out, and Richie let out a fond laugh. Richie reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out a tube of lube and a condom. He set the condom on the bed, and popped the cap on the tube of lube. He squeezed enough onto the tips of his fingers that he could coat three of them. He rubbed his fingers together slightly to warm it up before turning his attention back to the boy in his bed.

“Can you hug your knees to your chest for me, V? Put that pretty hole on display for me?” Richie’s tone was sweet, but also had a directive tone to it. He wasn’t just asking Vic to do something, but rather telling him exactly what needed to be done. Vic did as he was told and hugged his knees to his chest. Richie groaned at the sight, when his little pink puckered hole revealed itself. “Alright, here goes one finger.”

Richie traced the ring of muscle with one of his lubed up fingers, teasing Vic’s hole ever so lightly. Vic whined and Richie finally relented, pushing his finger past the ring of muscles and into his hole, he took it easily, and soon Richie was thrusting in and out with more force. Vic moaned out at the sensation, and then his jaw dropped open when he felt two fingers pushing back into him. Richie scissored his fingers and flicked his wrist every once in a while, driving Vic absolutely crazy. He was going too slow, he needed more.

“Richie, please. I’m ready. I can take it.” Vic cried out, but Richie shook his head and added another finger so that Vic was being stretched open by three. He was right about Richie’s long and slim fingers fucking him open. It was perfect, exactly what he fantasized about. He started rocking his hips back to meet the thrusts of the fingers, and Richie took that as his cue that Vic was ready for more.

“Are you still with me?” Richie asked, and Vic nodded, cheeks and chest flushing from his arousal. He watched as Richie shed his boxers, his cock just as beautiful as he had imagined in his fantasies. Richie grabbed the condom from the bed and open the foil package, easily sliding the latex down his cock. He leaned forward, the blunt head of his cock resting against Vic’s hole. He gave him one more concerned look, met with a nod, before he slowly pushed himself all the way in. It took a minute, he didn’t want to hurt Vic after all, but then his hips were meeting Vic’s ass, and it felt amazing.

“You can move.” Vic told him, and Richie started thrusting in and out of him slowly and fluidly. Vic moaned at the feeling, screwing his eyes just from the sheer force of pleasure. Richie picked up his pace, building a steady rhythm and adjusting his hips to fuck right into Vic’s prostate. “Ahhhhh fuck!” Vic cried out and Richie repeated the action. Vic was crying out with every thrust, every slight touch of skin on skin anywhere but their crotches.

Richie could feel his own orgasm coming closer, but this was all about Vic. He needed to cum first. Richie snaked his hand down in between them and took a hold of Vic’s cock. He began pumping him in time with his own thrusts. It took less than ten strokes before Vic was letting out a long and drawn out moan, cumming all over his and Richie’s chests. Richie kept pumping into him, now with a purpose, he pressed in one final time and filled the condom deep inside of Vic’s ass. He pulled out carefully, dropping the condom into the wastebasket next to his bed. He moved to lay behind Vic, his arm wrapping over his midsection, and he pressed a kiss to the back of his neck.

“Thank you for this, Richie. It was amazing. I just can’t help myself when I’m around you.” Vic said graciously, and he could feel Richie smiling from where he was rested against his neck.

“Right back at you.” Richie said with a slight giggle. “Now how about we go to sleep now, and then deal with discussing what this means when we wake up?” He asked, and Vic nodded turning to press a sweet kiss against his cheek.

The snuggled into one another, neither remembering the last time they had felt this safe and comfortable. Vic and Richie thanked God they were assigned as study buddies.

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theseshipsshallsail · 3 years

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The door to his bedroom was locked once more, and Elio lay sprawled with one arm behind his head as he tracked the progress of a large black spider across the ceiling. His stomach was twisted into knots, and rolling onto his side he punched his pillow in a fit of pique, knowing that no matter how tightly he squeezed his eyes shut, sleep would continue to elude him. Too many memories clung to this particular ghost spot, and now that the adrenaline had started to wear off, he was mostly just trying not to be sick.

Oliver had returned a short while ago, and Elio pretended not to hear his uneven breaths as he moved about the bathroom, concentrating instead on the periodic drip of rainwater from the guttering outside. His cheeks were tight with dried tears as he glanced at his alarm clock, and feeling overwhelmed, Elio was half considering escaping to the balcony when the rap of knuckles on wood made him flinch.

“Elio?”

It was almost a whisper, but his body tensed with dread regardless.

“Can I come in?” Oliver asked. “We need to talk about this.”

There was nothing he’d like less, but now that he’d had a little time to process things, Elio sighed as he left the dubious comfort of his bed sheets. It wasn’t possible to ignore Oliver for the next two weeks, and though he was sorely tempted to return to their Milan apartment alone if necessary, he knew it was better to get this over with sooner rather than later.

“You can talk,” he muttered as he opened the door. “But I’m not promising I’ll do more than listen.”

“Thank you.” Oliver shuffled his feet, clearly unsure of his welcome, then stepped close enough that Elio could see the freckles on his nose. “I swear you can yell at me all you want afterwards, just -” He broke off, and Elio followed his gaze to where it had landed on his rumpled duvet. “Were you asleep?”

“Yes,” he lied, wondering if he was the only one haunted by this place.

“Do you want me to leave?”

It was courteous enough, but the connotations of his words sent an unwelcome skitter down Elio’s spine, and he found himself unable to say yes. “You might as well stay,” he said, straightening his t-shirt as he strode back to the bed. “You already woke me up.”

“Sorry.” Oliver looked uneasy as he hovered in the centre of the room.

“Non importa.”

When Elio’s grand-mère developed dementia in her later years, he’d been too young to understand what his mother meant when she described missing someone who was directly in front of you. But not anymore. Oliver’s presence had always seemed larger than life, but here and now he appeared diminished - present, yet somehow absent. It was a lot to wrap his head around, and realising his desk chair was covered in books and dirty laundry, Elio gestured beside him.

“You can sit,” he said, raising his knees to his chest as the mattress dipped under Oliver’s weight. Just like him, he’d changed into thin cotton sleep pants, and Elio forced his eyes not to wander when a loaded silence settled over them. “You said you wanted to talk.”

“I did.” Oliver bit his bottom lip. “Though that doesn’t mean I actually know where to begin.”

Elio appreciated his honesty, but here they were, the two shyest people in the world, and for once he refused to make the first move. “You’ve had months to decide what to say to me,” he said, fidgeting with the chain around his neck. “So either speak, or let me go back to sleep. I’m done going in circles.”

Oliver’s shoulders slumped even further, and again, Elio fought the addictive urge to touch. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled at last.

“You’ve said.”

“It bears repeating.” Oliver grimaced as he mirrored his position against the headboard. “I wanted you to know you were right.”

“I usually am.” Painfully aware of his own lack of filter, Elio lit a cigarette to keep his nervous fingers occupied. “What was I right about?” he asked, and when Oliver looked up, his eyes were bloodshot.

“I didn’t accidentally propose to someone. I barely proposed at all.”

“Oddio!”

“No, wait!” Oliver scrambled to halt his withdrawal. “Please, just let me explain. Micol and I, we’ve known each other since kindergarten. Our parents go to the same temple - golf on the weekends - tennis on Tuesdays, the whole megillah. We practically grew up together,” he said, not helping Elio’s aggravation in the slightest.

“Are you trying to make me feel inadequate? Or are you actually circling a point?”

Oliver huffed a breath. “My point is we both saw the writing on the wall,” he said patiently. “Love is a luxury, according to my mother. And she’s not wrong - as much as I hate to admit it. Everyone expected us to settle down after graduation, so we came to an arrangement. Bought ourselves some time.”

“What sort of arrangement?” Elio asked, blowing out a stream of smoke as Oliver’s poker face made an unwelcome return.

“Let's just say it was mutually beneficial, and leave it at that. Neither of us were ever committed, but the relationship kept the heat off our backs, so we played along when necessary.”

Elio shook his head. “You make it sound so… je ne sais pas.”

“Parental obligation is a powerful motivator,” Oliver said. “But we were always better friends than lovers. That’s why last summer was so eye-opening. The way I felt about you… it was too much. I didn’t know what to do with it.” Oliver swallowed thickly. “When I said I remembered everything, I meant it. I couldn’t stop remembering. The moment I got home I was miserable. Drinking too much. Hardly sleeping. Micol took me to task and -”

“It just happened.” Elio reached for the ashtray. “Again. You’ve said.”

“I didn’t choose her over you. I need you to know that. But I’d convinced myself I’d never see you again, and if I couldn’t have what I truly wanted, why postpone the inevitable when we could make everyone else happy instead?”

At what cost, though, Elio wondered, and before he could think better of it, slid his palm over until his little finger found Oliver’s on the mattress. They both flinched at the initial contact, but Elio held firm, offering a silent comfort.

“Would you have waited?” he asked. “If I’d said something? Would it have made a difference?”

“I don’t know.” Oliver curled his thumb under Elio’s wrist, then kept going until their hands were completely entwined. “I couldn’t have stayed, but I’m not sure I would have allowed myself to hope for more, either.”

“Mon timide Américain,” Elio muttered, offering over the cigarette in tacit acceptance. “My father would say not to give in to your fears, but to let your dreams shape your future.”

Oliver hummed. “Your father is a wise man.”

“Persistent, too,” Elio said, still hoping to provoke a reaction. “If it weren’t for him, I might not be moving to the States.”

Oliver just about coughed up a lung. “What do you mean?” he wheezed, stretching out on his side, and Elio plucked the cigarette from his grip as he moved to join him.

“He’s been leaving college brochures lying around since I was fourteen,” he explained, crushing it out. “Some of the most exclusive music schools in the world.”

“Subtle.”

“He thought so. Though I don’t know what good it will do.” Elio wrinkled his nose. “Some of the admission rates are notoriously low, and most applicants have been performing in public for -”

“Hey.” Oliver tapped his bare foot with his own. “Don’t do that. I hate when you put yourself down.”

“Sorry.”

Oliver smiled. “You don’t have to apologise, you goose.” Glancing away, he plucked at the hem of his Columbia t-shirt. “Where did you decide? To apply, I mean.”

It was a simple enough question, but Elio chided himself for letting his guard down so easily. “Berklee,” he said, reining himself in. “Curtis. San Francisco.”

“I bet you blew them all away,” Oliver murmured, tapping an idle rhythm over his knuckles. “Not Juilliard, then?”

Elio offered a non-committal shrug, admitting nothing. “Less chance of running into you and your wife if I was on the other side of the country. Though I don’t suppose that matters now.” Curious, he ripped off the metaphorical band-aid. “Did you leave her? Or did she leave you?”

Oliver rocked his head against the pillow. “We left each other,” he said, face falling as he resumed the slow sweep of his thumb over Elio’s skin. “I’d been running scared for weeks, but the second I heard your voice I knew I couldn’t go through with it.”

Elio frowned. “My voice?”

“Hanukkah.” Oliver covered his mouth, as if shocked he’d confessed it out loud. “I hung up the phone and felt sick. I don’t think I’ve cried like that since my bubbe passed,” he said, turning towards the ceiling, and Elio’s eyes slipped closed as he did the maths in his head. “We ended it for good the next day,” Oliver continued, bringing their hands up to rest above his heart. “Micol’s not stupid. She knew I met someone over the summer. She never asked who, but I think she suspected.”

“And you didn’t confirm.”

“I couldn’t.” A flash of guilt crossed Oliver’s features. “Her sister’s a nurse. She’s heard stories,” he said, and Elio clenched his jaw as he pictured the disease that was making headlines around the world. “I didn’t want to worry her without reason.”

“Je comprends. It’s okay.”

“No. It’s not,” Oliver replied, full of self-reproach. “I’m not ashamed of what we shared. And it kills me that you thought I was.”

The air between them grew charged, and it would be so easy to slide closer, to wrap his arm around Oliver’s waist and remove those final few inches, but Elio felt stunned into inertia. There was no denying he still wanted him, desired him, worshipped him, even, but a sorry was far from a commitment, and he couldn’t afford to open Pandora’s box on a fool’s hope alone.

“What are you thinking about?”

Elio sniffed. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Or you don’t want me to know?”

“Both, I suppose.” He shrugged awkwardly. “You should have told me earlier.”

“I should have done a lot of things.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Oliver sighed. “Because I didn’t want you to think you owed me anything. Or that I expected something from you. Because I don’t,” he said, rolling back onto his side. “I’m seven years older than you, Elio. And I know you think that doesn’t matter, but it does. You’re young - no, you are,” he argued, when Elio opened his mouth to protest. “Your talent could take you anywhere. And I’m not making excuses - I know I took the easy way out - but I just can’t bear the idea of holding you back. You could have anything you want if you set your mind to it.”

“No man is worthy of all that he aspires to,” Elio quoted, watching as Oliver’s cheeks flushed pink. “We are not entitled to all of anything - not even ourselves - and happiness will never be achieved by gaining all that one wants, only in truly wanting what one has gained.”

“You read my book.”

“I read your book.” Elio leaned in conspiratorially. “Très prophétique.”

“You sound like your father.”

“Mon Dieu...” Elio butted his forehead against him. “Will you do something for me?” he asked, and Oliver nodded readily. “For once in your life, forget about what your family wants, or what the university wants, or what you think you should want, and tell me what you want. You.” His grip tightened. “What do you want, Oliver?”

“You know what I want,” he whispered, squeezing back. “The one thing I shouldn’t.”

“But you could. Je suis à vous.”

“Elio...”

“I missed you.”

The word was wholly inadequate, but when Oliver pulled him close he went immediately, drawn into his personal orbit. “I missed you, too. So fucking much,” he said, staring at Elio as if it was he who’d just shifted the world off its axis, and not the other way around. “I used to lie awake at night, terrified I’d waited too long. That you’d already moved on and forgotten me.”

“I didn’t.” Elio looked away, even as he reminded himself he’d done nothing wrong. “I tried,” he told him, voice shaking when Oliver’s palm faltered halfway up his spine. “I wanted to. After that phone call. But it never lasted. There was always something missing.” He stifled a yawn. “Of course, the fact I was planning to leave the country wasn’t much of a relationship builder,” he muttered, and Oliver’s hoarse chuckle warmed him.

“I would say that I’m sorry, but I find I’m really not.”

“Arrogante.”

Oliver cupped his jaw. “No. Just grateful.” Elio’s heart picked up as he studied him like a riddle he needed to solve. “You haven’t been sleeping,” he said, smoothing his thumb beneath his eye. “And I don’t just mean tonight.”

“Have you?”

“Only when I run myself to exhaustion.”

“Quelle paire.” With each pass his eyelids grew heavier, and Elio could just feel himself starting to fade when Oliver’s stomach growled insistently, breaking the spell he’d woven around them. “Hungry?”

Oliver smiled. “A little.”

“A little?” Elio poked him in the ribs. “Are there no limits to what you'll deny yourself?”

“I’m not denying myself anymore,” Oliver said, each word slow, deliberate. “This is it. My speak or die moment. The ball’s in your court - and I’ll wait as long as you need - but I don’t want to look back in twenty years and regret the things I’ve left unsaid. Because I love you, Elio Perlman - now, then, and every second in-between - and it’s taking everything I have right now not to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness.”

On some level he must have known - despite a concerted effort to convince himself otherwise - but hearing it from Oliver’s own lips was revolutionary.

“You love me?”

It felt like coming up for air after being held underwater.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

Elio wanted to gasp with relief - to echo the sentiments in their entirety - but as Oliver’s arms came up around him there was nothing he could do but let his tears flow free, whispered assurances filling the air between them until gradually, mercifully, he drifted off to sleep.

Elio watched the shadows dance over Oliver’s profile in the blue-gray light of dawn. His features were soft and unguarded, his eyelashes fluttering with each soft exhalation, and the solid weight of the forearm encircling his waist brought back memories of their last morning together the year before. Each tick of the hotel room clock had heralded their imminent separation, and Elio had lain there for hours in his hungover state, dreading what loomed ahead.

He had always assumed Oliver to be untouchable, but here was the absolute proof that they’d both suffered, and as Elio traced the prominent veins of his wrist it felt like they were finally on equal footing.

Oliver’s fingers were curled loosely, the deep lines of his palm reeling him in like a siren’s call, so Elio pressed his lips against them in supplication, letting the steady thrum of Oliver’s pulse soothe him as a litany of we called it off intruded upon his peace of mind.

Once again, they had wasted so much time, and even though part of him wanted nothing more than to fall back into familiar arms and familiar habits, the other half was terrified of getting his heart broken twice. His quintessential Adonis was flawed and fragile - aged beyond the months they’d spent apart - and while he might be offering everything he’d ever wanted, Elio knew the fears the other man harboured couldn’t be so easily vanquished. How could he trust that he wouldn't reconsider? That he wouldn’t pick someone else he could be with openly? Legally?

Fate had dealt them a cruel hand, and needing a minute to himself, Elio eased out of Oliver’s embrace before stepping onto the balcony. The looping sparrows were his only distraction - not even Anchise braving the crisp frost to rattle around in the garden below - and Elio lit a cigarette as he leaned against the balustrade, goosebumps forming instantly in the sharp morning air.

How long he stood there he couldn’t quite tell, but the sun was already cresting the horizon when Oliver unlatched the door behind him, and Elio found himself transfixed by the golden rays that limned the blond strands at his temple.

“Hey.” Oliver’s voice was rough with sleep. “You okay?”

“Me okay,” Elio said. “Just thinking.”

Oliver nudged his shoulder as he came to stand beside him. “Are they private thoughts?” he teased, picking up their old game, and Elio smirked, immediately nostalgic for lazy afternoons spent lounging by the pool.

“In a way,” he volleyed back, bringing the filter to his lips. “The morning after we first slept together, you said you didn’t want me to have any regrets.”

“I did.” Oliver angled his body towards him. “Not that it did us much good in the long run. But then, you were always the brave one between us.”

“Not always.”

“Elio...”

“It’s true,” he said, pinching out the cigarette. “I should never have let you go without a fight.”

“That goes both ways,” Oliver countered, reaching up to caress his cheek. “Please don’t blame yourself. It was my own cowardice that kept me away. Not you.”

“Non è vero.” Apparently, the truth brought objectivity. “Cowardice is not the same as conformity.”

“Maybe not. But they both require submission.” Oliver tucked a loose curl behind Elio’s ear. “The desire to please. To be liked. Respected. That’s just how society works,” he said with a shrug. “And the cost of everyone else liking me meant I got closer and closer to hating myself.”

“I understand,” Elio replied, wishing his anxiety was unjustified. “But those obligations you spoke of last night? They’ll still be waiting for you when you get home. You can’t come here and say these things, then go away again like -”

“I won’t.”

“You’ll have to.”

“Not unless they carry me back on that plane,” Oliver said, leaning in to press their foreheads together. “I value my career, Elio, and I’ll always be grateful for the opportunities it’s given me. But my life in the States? It’s not enough. I need more.”

“What are you saying?”

Oliver stroked his jaw. “I’m saying we have time to figure this out,” he explained. “My ticket is an open return, and I’ve taken some leave from the department. Six months, initially. When I spoke to your father in February, he mentioned a temporary position at the Bocconi - the Classics department.” A beat. “He’s offered to provide a reference.”

“My father...” Elio’s knees felt weak. “You planned this?”

“Not exactly,” Oliver said, sliding a steadying palm to his elbow. “The job interview isn’t contingent on your forgiveness. More a happy coincidence. My only real plan was to come apologise in person. I didn’t dare presume you’d want anything to do with me beyond that.”

“Idiota.”

“So I’ve been told.” Oliver brushed a kiss to his temple, and the rough catch of his stubble was enough to make the slow burn of arousal unfurl in his stomach. “Repeatedly,” he added. “In at least four different languages.”

“Mafalda speaks a little Friulian.”

“Make that five,” Oliver said with a snort, and Elio chewed the inside of his cheek as he savoured the scent of the ocean that still lingered on his skin.

“Did you tell your parents you were leaving?” he asked, alarm bells ringing at the thought of another rushed decision, and was somewhat mollified when Oliver hummed in confirmation. “Did you tell them why?”

Oliver swallowed before answering. “I did,” he said, still sounding choked. “Though I doubt they’ll ever acknowledge it. My father’s a judgemental bastard. Always has been. And my mother...” Trailing off, he sighed through his nose. “She suggested I keep my indiscretions to myself until I come to my senses.”

“I’m sorry,” Elio said, instantly regretting the animosity he’d shown towards his own parents as of late.

“Don’t be.” Oliver sent him a look of pure determination. “You of all people have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Still. I know that must have been hard.”

“It was,” Oliver agreed. “But you know what? It made me realise something.”

“Comme quoi?”

Oliver searched his face. “That nothing’s too hard if you know what you’re fighting for,” he said seriously. “I’m done living a lie. And I know I can’t undo the past, but I swear I’ll spend the rest of my days making up for it. If you’ll let me.”

“If I’ll let you?”

“If that’s what you want?”

Elio’s throat felt tight. “I want you, Oliver. Us. How can you not know that by now?”

Oliver scoffed. “Sweetheart, you’re a force of nature,” he said, carding his fingers through Elio’s hair. “It took me a week to pluck up the courage to give you a back rub. Overconfidence doesn’t come easy where you’re concerned.”

The simple touch made his scalp tingle, and Elio moaned softly, his heart pounding within his ribcage. “Say it again,” he whispered, trembling as Oliver wrapped an arm around his waist. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you,” Oliver said, turning his head to rub their noses together. “I love you, Elio. All of you. Not just your body, but your mind, too. Your friendship. Your voice - God, I’ve missed your voice. And this, right here,” he said, burying closer, breathing deep. “I’ve missed your scent. Wildflowers and rosemary.” A low groan rose from his chest, and easing back, he drew his fingertip over Elio’s bottom lip. “The scent of us together... it’s haunted me.”

The slick back and forth was excruciating, and the salt-tang of Oliver’s skin was enough to make Elio whine in frustration as he tangled a hand in his t-shirt. “Is this wise?”

“Does it matter?”

“Oh... it matters.” Elio rose up on tiptoes. “We matter,” he said, nipping at his earlobe. “We’ve already been through this, no? Or does seven years make all the difference to your memory, also?”

“Brat.”

“Old man.”

Oliver guided his mouth back down, telegraphing his every move. “Can I kiss you?”

“Déjà vu encore une fois.” Elio leaned in further. “All we need now is a note.”

Experience had taught them the perfect rhythm, and it was everything he remembered and more when Oliver hooked a knuckle under his chin, tilting it up as he walked him backwards, kissing him all the while. They came to a jolting stop against the brickwork, and Elio was half hard already as Oliver slid a leg between his own, the solid weight of the erection against his thigh causing him to arch forwards, seeking friction.

“Elio...”

There was no mistaking the raw need in Oliver’s voice, and Elio rocked his hips as his eyes fluttered open, finally ready to speak his truth. “I love you, too,” he said, lips grazing the skin above his Adam’s apple. “I worship you, Oliver.”

“God, you haven’t changed a bit,” he said, smiling against his cheek. “Still -”

“Horny?”

“Incorrigible.” Oliver kissed him again, achingly tender, and Elio could have cried. “Perfect.”

“Not perfect.” That way lay disappointment.

“For me,” Oliver returned, almost willing Elio to believe him. “You’re perfect for me.”

And who was he to argue with that, Elio decided, opening his mouth in clear invitation.

They had time, Oliver said. They’d never had that before, and without the pressure of a deadline each brush of their lips tasted like salvation, all previous haste forgotten despite the inherent demands of their bodies.

It was a different morning after - a different set of emotions - but no less conflicting for them both, and by unspoken agreement the kisses eventually tapered off until they were simply holding each other close, listening to the sounds of the villa coming to life around them.

A new day.

A second chance.

A love reawakened.

“Does this make you happy?” Oliver whispered, bowing his head once more, and a heavy burden lifted from Elio’s soul as he took his first proper breath in months.

#call me by your name #elio x oliver #fix-it #angst #hurt/comfort

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bringmetolife-pwff · 4 years

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Part 1: Chapter 1 - The Betrayal

Spring 2007

It was another long exhausting day at work in the office. She was putting the finishing touches on her spring line before it was released to the world and she had another fashion show to showcase her designs. This year was all about pastels and floral. She knew the high expectations that there were for her line this year.

It was enough to send her into another frenzy.

Lately she had been all about work and no time for anything but that. She felt bad that she hadn't made any time for those close to her: fiancé, friends and family. But she was lucky enough to know that they understood. Especially her father.

She grew up with a father who was the CEO of his own brand - Bennett & Co. He made mainly high end watches, tuxedos and cologne. He had been in the business for over thirty years and she had learned from the best, her dad. He had been there to cheer her on through everything. From the first person who turned her designs down to her line now being sold in stores like H&M and Anthropologie. He was her number one fan, always.

She had met her fiancé, Liam Matthews a year and a half ago when he starred in a movie called Lie With Me. She had been invited to attend the premiere of the film. First, because of her name she was very well known across the United Kingdom and the United States. Secondly, the wardrobe people on set had reached out to her whilst they were filming and asked to use some of her dresses. She happily agreed and had them sent over right away by her assistant.

When she met the lead actor of the film, Liam Matthews, she fell for him right away. He was tall, handsome and they got on well. Unfortunately, with Liam being an actor, he's gone a lot and not always there for Evelyn when she needs him or just wants to be with him. But she didn't care. She loved him anyway and said yes instantly regardless of her families hesitation of the guy. They didn't care if he was an A-list actor. They knew his track record with women, mostly from their friends and people who worked with him.

They never said anything to Evelyn though. They wanted her to be happy and they knew that she wouldn't believe them. No matter how much she adored her family. She grew up with five siblings, four of them being brothers.

"How are we doing, Eve?" Samantha, Eve's assistant asked as she brought her boss her usual coffee.

Samantha Cunning had been Evelyn's assistant from the very start of her company. She was detailed-oriented, hard working, and always took notes to whatever Evelyn needed her to do which Evelyn appreciated. She hadn't had any prior experience to being an assistant, but Evelyn took a chance on her and she was so lucky she did. She's been a big help to her ever since. Unlike Evelyn, Samantha was tall around five foot eleven. She had red hair and freckles that speckled on her porcelain skin and wore glasses as she wasn't able to see without them. Samantha was married to an architect for ten years and his name is Hamish. They have two boys: Noah who is seven and Mark who is five. Evelyn has been close friends with Samantha and her family outside of their jobs for years.

"Thanks, Sam. You are the best! We're doing pretty good. Almost done with the finishing touches and should be done for next week's show. I should have asked you a couple of weeks ago but did you get the invitations sent out for the guests that are invited?"

This year her fashion show was being held at The Royal Opera House. She was very honoured to have her show there as it was the first time ever she would be.

"Already done, Eve. I also used the calligraphy on the cards like you requested."

"Excellent. Thank you so much, Sam, honestly. Oh - what about the flowers and the other props to set up?"

"Done and done," Sam smiles at her boss adjusting her glasses.

"What would I do without you?" Evelyn asks with a sigh.

"You wouldn't know how to survive," she jokes making the boss laugh and nod her head.

"Probably true," she states as her phone rings letting Samantha know she needs to leave the office to go to her own desk.

Evelyn looks at the caller id to see whose calling and sees Liam's name listed on the screen. She smiles and swivels in her chair as she answers it.

"Hello, Li," she greets her fiancé.

"Hi, Evelyn. How are you?" His voice a little gruff.

She pulled the phone away from her ear slightly looking at her phone scrunching up her nose. He had never greeted her with her full name and his tone seemed off as well.

"I'm all right. Getting everything ready for my show next Thursday. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Busy. Listen, I have some news you might not like."

"Yeah? What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

"I'm not going to be able to make it to your show. I'm sorry, Evelyn."

Evelyn hung up immediately getting right back to work pushing back all thoughts of her fiancé now. She had always been there for him no matter how far away they were from each other. Always going to his premieres, no matter if she didn't want to go or not. She was always proud of him and all of his success.

Why couldn't he be there for her too?

***

It was late at night when Eve finally finished her work for her show. All of her coworkers had been amazing in helping her prepare for it on Wednesday. She was more than anxious to be here already.

Heading into the apartment she shared with her fiancé, she had some Chinese takeout with her for some late night dinner. She felt bad that she had been all about work lately and even though she was upset with Liam for not being able to go, she brought him food as a way of making it up to him.

Closing the door to their apartment, she let out an exhausted sigh setting the food on the kitchen counter. Evelyn could feel in-between her nose and brows scrunch together in confusion at the noises she was hearing. For some reason, she felt as though she ought to follow them always being curious.

As the noises became closer, it sounded like two people were having sex in her home and one voice was her fiancé. Growing anxious, she wasn't sure what compelled her to open the door which led to their bedroom but she wished she hadn't. As the woman who was riding her fiancé could easily be recognizable as her best friend, Blair Taylor.

"What the hell?" Evelyn cried out in shock making the couple freeze in their positions and look up at the voice.

Liam sat up immediately making Blair roll over and fall off the bed.

"Fuck," Blair moaned in slight pain but quickly ignoring it as she threw on some clothes hastily while Liam scrambled out of bed putting his briefs on.

"How long has this been going on?" Eve shouted at the two.

Liam wouldn't answer and wasn't able to look Evelyn in the eye. Blair was the one who answered for the both of them.

"Since you've been engaged," she answered smug as she looked at her former best friend. They had been best friends since they were in kindergarten and told each other everything. They were there for each other for all of their biggest moments. Eve thought she knew her. Apparently not.

"What?" She began hyperventilating. "So you mean to tell me that this whole engagement and relationship has been a lie?"

"Evelyn, you're barely here anymore," Liam finally looked at her raking his fingers through his hair. "We never see each other. We, at least I, have fallen out love. Besides, it's not like you didn't sleep with Jake."

Jake was Blair's ex-boyfriend that she dated for three years. Evelyn was never sure why they ended things because she thought they were good for each other.

"I'm hardly here right now because of my fashion show coming up! I thought you out of all people would understand. And what the bloody hell are you going on about me sleeping with Jake? I haven't spoken to him since he and Blair broke up!"

"Don't lie, Evelyn," he spoke harshly at her. "I know you've been sleeping with Jake behind my back. All of our friends have been telling me as well."

"Get out," she told her former best friend and ex-fiancé as she began taking the ring off of her finger and chucking it at him. "And keep it. We're done. And Blair? Stay the hell out of my life!"

"No fucking way!" Liam exclaimed not going down without a fight. "I'm not leaving. I paid for this place. It's you who should find another."

"Fine!"

Evelyn couldn't believe what she ever saw in that piece of shit. She angrily wiped at the tears on her face as she pulled out one of her bags and stuffed some clothes in it. She would be back tomorrow for the rest of her things.

***

It was a heartbreaking night for Evelyn Claire Bennett as she made her way to a pub. She wanted to forget everything that had happened that day. She didn't care how many drinks it took to forget. Tears streamed down her face as she opened the door to the bar, wiping them away as she entered.

She probably looked awful. She had smudges of her black mascara smeared underneath her eyes but at the moment she didn't care. She didn't know anyone at this bar and wasn't looking to impress anyone anyways. Taking a seat at the bar, she was on her phone texting her sister Vivienne needing a place to stay for the night. Or a while.

"What happened to you, darling?" The bar tender asked as he handed her a pint. "Rough night?"

"Yeah," she sniffled as she took a gulp. "I found my fiancé in bed with my best friend and that they had been spreading lies about me."

"Ouch. Damn that ought to hurt. Well you want to know what I would do to people like them?"

"No," she shook her head taking another sip. "What?"

"I would find someone better and flaunt it to them as a way of giving them a big 'fuck you' to them. Who needs pricks like those?"

She laughed slightly at that. Even though it hurt to laugh. It hurt to breathe. It felt as though she was under water and she was gasping for air and nothing would come up. Was it possible? To feel like you're living but also feel like you're dying at the same time? She felt as though she could hear her heart breaking into pieces shattering as it hits the ground. Plummeting into a world of darkness.

---

A/N: I hope you all are doing well! This is a new story I'm posting. I know Prince William is married to Kate Middleton and I LOVE them together but I thought it would be fun to write a story about him. I don't see too many and he's one my favorite Royal's. Hope you all enjoy and buckle up for this crazy ride :).

#bringmetolife-pwff prince William princewilliamfanfic britishroyalfamily prince harry kate middleton romance fanfiction

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