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biillys · 4 months

Note

snippet, summary, something for these please! and I added my own commentary.

summer but brba summer but WHAT now?

nooo one is haunted? loves me? this feels like a fill-in-the-blank :)

hwbthm what does this mean?

happiest sad girl okay okay you're speaking my language

worlds worst employee pls be about Billy in a cat cafe or something

fire and grace great title, I am curious!

summer ***** is this the naughty version of "summer"?

kdjfhkjsdahk luc i Love you. thankyou 🥺 this is atrociously long because i love to ramble and can not just simply post a simple paragraph at a time, instead posting entire scenes. i am SORRY.

also i apparently write a lot about characters dying and getting killed and murder also there's mentions of abortion and miscarriage also there's child abuse and child sexual absue. so trigger warnings for all that. starting to realise i really do not write fluff

summer but brba:

okay before i can be like. summer but breaking bad! i first need to explain Summer. which is my twd au aka my lil baby my actual heartbeat the Love of my life etc. and then the brba part is like. not actual very breaking bad at all. it's just me borrowing one character from it because i feel like todd makes a Good and Interesting villain who i could like. mold into the character i wanted for certain purposes becos i'm not creative enough to make oc's. and it was easier to differentiate between the different summer fics by key words, hence = but brba.

anyway! it's bascially a fucked up version where instead of just having a shitty childhood with neil as a father and a phantom dream of a mother, he also has todd as an uncle. he's technically not related and more a guy his dad knew from a friend of a friend in the army, but somehow todd starts coming over for dinner, hanging out on friday nights, and before billy knows it, he's staying at todd's shitty ranch on the weekends, when neil's gotta work the late shift and doesn't trust billy to be home alone unsupervised for an extra 2 hours. so, todd's a fucking creep, and billy learns that the hard way, and he tries to tell neil once, and that goes over as well as expected, so he just grins and bears it, and he thinks maybe susan will pick up on shit when she enters the picture, except she looks the other way at most things, so billy's like. just super fucked up and ready for the end of the world when it hits, because why wouldn't the world end when he's already at rock bottom.

then, instead of just billy, max, and neil surviving into the end of the world, good old uncle todd tags along, too. they head to the quarry together, survive on the road together, outlive the prison together, then everyone gets separated. billy, neil, and todd end up with the claimers, and shit really hits rock bottom for billy. long story short–rick rips a guys throat out with his teeth, daryl and michonne take a few men down in a blood bath, and billy slits his dad's throat and stabs his uncle to death.

“hey, what you did last night, what billy did,” daryl brings up, “anybody would’ve done that.”

“no, not that,” rick shoots down.

“something happened,” daryl bites his lip, “that ain’t you, ain’t either of you.”

“daryl, you saw what i did to tyreese,” rick points out. “it ain’t all that, but that’s me. that’s why i’m here now, that’s why carl is. i gotta keep him safe. that’s all that matters.” rick nods calmly, accepting himself in ways he never thought he’d be able to. “i don’t know what went down with billy and his dad, or his uncle, but whatever did, i’m choosing to believe that what happened last night, was what was needed.”

“it was,” daryl replies, no hesitation. “neil, we knew about, but todd...” daryl trails off, staring unseeingly at the trees in front of him.

“if billy didn’t, i would’ve,” daryl finishes.

rick nods. “that’s what matters. that’s all that matters, now.”

michonne joins them eventually, then carl, billy remaining passed out in the backseat. daryl feels like he should be out hunting, should be providing something, anything, for these people, but can’t bring himself to leave again. it was different that morning, ducking away to find some water, the sun barely peaking over the horizon, but now in the broad daylight, looking at the bodies and the blood littered all over the pavement, he feels rooted to the spot.

he couldn’t save beth, but billy’s alive, and carl’s alive, and rick’s here. michonne’s here. they’re still alive, they’re still here. he’s gotta find a way to make that count.

nooo one:

I MEAN. u are not wrong ahfkdshkfja it's a supernatural inspired au because i rewatched s1-3 recently (and am still psyching myself up to continue but i need to emotionally prepare for cas lmao) and was like. i'll incorporate that into my blorbo. hell yeah.

thinks, when it's all about to be over–she should've fucking left.

it's a djinn that gets her in the end. it doesn't kill her, barely even harms her. just shows her a world where everything's right. a world where it's just her and billy, living happily and peacefully, no hunting, no pain, and no neil. a world where they take their daily walks to the beach, and billy's smile is brighter than the sun, his laugh contagious, and she's happy. happier than she ever realised she could be.

so when neil rescues her, untying her hands and brushing the hair out of her eyes, all she can do is look for billy. she finds him straight away, her eyes zeroing in on him standing just behind his father, silver knife dripping with more than just animal blood, and he's clutching it in his shaking hands, looking up at her with wide, terrified eyes.

she exhales out then collapses forward, choking on a sob and shoving neil out of the way to grab at him, and billy lets the knife clutter to the ground to rush to her, running straight into her open arms.

"it's okay. it's okay, baby," she murmurs into his ear, one hand shakily running down his back, the other buried in his hair. "we're okay. i'm okay. you're gonna be okay, i promise, baby."

billy buries his face into her neck and cries, and she holds him tighter, keeping up the stream of reassurances as she does.

neil waits around billy's door on the fourth night, hiding just out of sight, and listens to their bedtime routine. hears his wife read a story, then a second one, the cave and read a third, before she sings him her favourite song. he listens as billy finally settles, and thinks, she'll be out any minute, and he'll make her talk. get to the bottom of why she hasn't looked him in the eye since he saved her.

she doesn't come out, instead she starts talking again, so softly neil can barely hear, but he takes a step closer, then another step, until he's as close as he can be without being found, and if he holds his breath, he can just make out what shes saying.

"i'm gonna get us out of here, okay, sweetheart, i promise you. it's just gonna be me and you."

"just you and me?" billy murmurs back just as softly.

"just me and you. and we're gonna be so so happy, baby. no more monsters, no more blood, or knives, or hunting. just us, and the beach, and the sun, and so much ice-cream."

neil hears the way her voice goes fake serious at the end, the way billy giggles and she laughs, before the bed creaks and they settle again.

"no dad?" billy questions quietly after a minute.

neil listens to the silence that hangs in the air at the question, waiting for her response, but whatever she says gets lost in the space between them, because he never hears the answer.

he hears billy, though.

"just me and you," he says, sounding like he's repeating what he's hearing, almost completely asleep.

"yeah, baby. just me and you."

neil stands in the hallway for a minute longer, then quietly slips away, grabbing himself a drink from the bottle in the cupboard and making himself at home in his chair, drinking himself to sleep. he'll deal with this mess tomorrow.

anddddddd then neil murders her the next night in the kitchen and makes billy deal with the body becos apparently i love to make billy suffer? uh billy stealing her necklace and keeping it on his person for the rest of time, her being stuck haunting him but never being able to reach him, billy figuring out young that if he gets high–if the hospital gives him the Good Stuff–he can still see her. neil dragging billy all over the country to kill monsters, meeting susan and max on a hunt, and moving to hawkins when the kids are in their teens becos some hunters are making some noise about kids going missing, kids with superpowers, and fucking magnets? also, billy befriending demodogs.

hwbthm:

heaven wasn't built to hold me aka a banger song by four year strong! uh basically susan grows a spine au kind of? neil loses his job and starts hitting the bottle and susan finally reaches her limit.

“that’s enough,” she says, her voice only cracking slightly.

billy’s on the floor, glass cuts on his arms and hands from where he’s scrambled himself back against the kitchen cabinets, blood flowing from his nose and from a cut on his forehead, watching on with wide eyes. he never thought she’d have it in her.

“that’s enough!” she repeats, louder and stronger this time, finally getting neil’s full attention.

neil turns to her and there’s absolutely no sign of neil, her loving husband, the man she married. this version of neil is all sharp edges, hard words, scornful looks. there’s no mercy in his eyes, and no softness to plead with.

“what was that, susan?” neil asks slowly, calmly. billy wants to yell at her, tell her it’s a trap, that it’s the calm before the storm, to tread carefully. but, in the end, he knows speaking up now would escalate things, probably for the worse, so he keeps silent and hopes that she could read his face for that one moment she spared him a glance.

“get out,” she says.

not exactly the careful treading billy was hoping for, but still enough of a surprise to buy them all a few moments of peace. billy’ll take it.

“get out?” neil repeats, incredulously.

“get. out.” susan says back, looking stronger with every word.

neil goes to respond, starting to take a step towards her, when she cuts him off.

“i’m done,” she starts, “i want you out. out of this house, out of our life, just- out. i need you to leave, right now. get out.”

billy swings an arm up to the edge of the counter and tries to pull himself up, terrified of this spiralling out of control even more but like, if susan can grow a fucking spine, then he can stand on his own two damn feet.

“now, susan, let’s just talk first,” neil responds slowly, edging closer and closer towards her.

susan moves to stand between max and neil, right in front of the kitchen table, before pulling out her phone. “you take one more step closer, and i’m calling the chief.”

she doesn’t pull up the call app or even unlock the phone, and billy thinks she’s bluffing, but then neil let’s out a humourless laugh and takes another step forward, and susan seems to have the chief’s number up and ready, finger posed over the dial button, before billy could even blink.

max is up and edging around the table, trying to be at the ready, waiting for shit to hit the fan again at any minute.

susan holds a hand out behind her to keep max back, and focuses her attention back on neil.

“get out,” she says, “now.”

“susan-” neil tries, but she’s not having any of it.

“take your shit, and leave, now, neil. i mean it,” the hand she was using to stop max in her tracks is now flung out and pointed at the front door, and billy’s gotta hand it to her, she’s got guts. billy never saw this coming. he honestly thought that if she ever stood up to neil and came through for them, it would because max finally copped it. never realised susan gave that much of a shit about him.

neil licks his lip and rubs his jaw, eyes flicking back to billy, then the phone in susan's hand, before settling back on his wife.

“get your shit, we’re leaving,” he says, eyes and voice emotionless.

it takes a second for billy to realise he’s talking to him, and less than a second to realise what it means. billy stays exactly where he is though, leaning on the counter and clutching his side, waiting for susan to jump in again.

susan won’t look at him.

“billy,” neil repeats, “now.”

susan still doesn’t say anything, and max breaks the silence with a ‘mom- you can’t actually-’ before susan silences her with a hand held up, the universal gesture of stop.

“billy!” neil yells, and billy finally gets his feet steady underneath him, ready to move.

“mom, are you serious?! billy’ll-” max tries again, but susan cuts her off.

“max, not now, please.”

“pack your shit, billy, we’re going,” neil states, not taking his eyes off susan for the entire exchange.

neil eventually walks off into the direction of his and susan’s bedroom, leaving just the mayfield’s and billy in the kitchen.

susan’s got her eyes closed and a hand over her chest like she’s trying to calm her racing heart. billy waits to see if she’s gonna say anything, even acknowledge him, but the longer the minute drags out, the heavier it sits that susan finally kicked neil to the curb, and in doing that, he’s getting kicked out too.

holy fuck, looks like she can follow in his mothers foot steps. smaller, slightly different steps, but same end destination. billy and neil, alone again.

uhhh then billy and neil ending up at the trailer park, susan and max getting some small shitty apartment, and billy too Emotional to reach out to max, and max not even knowing how to reach out to billy, so they don't, until billy drives past max walking home from school one day, no skateboard in sight, so he slows down and pulls up beside her, and she barely ackowleges him, except she still gets in the car, and he drops her home. and then it becomes a thing, and it takes them three trips to even speak to each other outside of giving directions, and then idk. this is already too long but like. more stuff happens kjshdskjhad

happiest sad girl:

feel like this title is very misleading becos it was just a lyric from the song i had on repeat at the time of coming up with this au. shout out to lights lmao but. this is a good ol' susan and neil have a baby au! which i have not seen around anywhere else but i think it'd be actually terrible in a fun to think about kind of way.

By the time Billy makes it out to the kitchen the next morning, Max and Neil have already left, leaving just him and Susan. He doesn’t know whether he’s meant to have found like, peace or whatever, during the night, and should be congratulating her, or if he’s allowed to make a quick escape, but she seems just as off balance as he is, so instead of splitting straight away, he opens the fridge and looks around.

Billy spent a truly fucking absurd amount of time googling baby shit last night once he was in his room. Probably not actually that much time, if you compared the amount with a new expectant mother, but for an almost 18 year old? It’s gonna fuck up his targeted ads for sure. Him and Max also texted well into the morning, sometimes links, sometimes questions, but mostly just ‘what the Fuck’s, and Billy’s came back to the same conclusion as he originally had, that none of this makes any fucking sense. He thinks that maybe if he could just talk to Susan, without his dad there, then maybe something might actually fucking click.

He closes the fridge eventually after it starts to beep and he’s let basically all the cold air out, deciding to just grab a granola bar from the cupboard, then he turns to lean against the counter. Susan still hasn’t looked at him, and he knows she hates it when he leaves the fridge door open for so long only to not get anything out, so he waits for her to take the bait, but she says nothing, just continues pottering around.

“You like, feelin’ okay?” he asks awkwardly, once it looks like she’s truly not gonna start the conversation herself. “Morning sickness is a thing for you right now, right?” He scratches the back of his neck.

Hollywood movies are dramatised, he knows, but surely they don’t put girls throwing up and announcing pregnancies together in every movie for it to be complete horseshit.

Susan stops scrubbing at the stove top to look at him, finally, but she just gives him a tight smile and goes back to scrubbing.

“Right, okay, I’ll just go-” he starts, still awkward, and grabs the granola wrapper whilst pushing off the bench, “I’ll just go fuck myself, then,” he finishes lamely, mainly to himself.

“The morning sickness hasn’t been too bad,” Susan starts, finally taking the olive branch for what it was, “It was worse with Max, I think.”

Billy stops in the doorway and turns around and nods, because he doesn’t actually have a reply for that. He doesn’t know, like, fucking baby small talk. Susan turns to put some bread in the toaster, and then they’re both just standing there, so far out of their fucking depth, that Billy wants to laugh, but he’s genuinely terrified it might actually make her cry, so. He keeps his shit together.

Susan’s toast comes up quick, because she’s a freak who likes it barely cooked, just warmed, and then she’s sitting at the table where this entire mess started, and then Billy realises that this isn’t where it started for her, which, fuck. Okay. He can do this.

“So,” he starts, aiming for casual, making himself comfortable leaning against the doorframe, “you want another kid,” and it comes out more of a statement than a question, but Susan still nods all the same.

“Like, you genuinely wanna do the baby thing again?” He checks again, because, that just doesn’t make any fucking sense to him. She actually says ‘yes’ this time, a verbal confirmation, but her face is nervous, and she’s trying so hard to look okay, like she’s living the dream, but Billy just can’t let it go. “But why?”

“Don’t you want a little brother or sister, a little Mini You or Mini Max?” she asks, and fuck no.

“Fuck no,” Billy dismisses quickly, “I barely like myself most days and god knows we don’t need another fucking Max.”

Susan looks at him sadly, like she cares, and Billy’s stomachs doing that thing where it keeps twisting in on itself, making him feel like he’s gonna be sick.

“So you want another kid, why not get a dog or some shit?” Billy quickly gets the subject back on track, away from himself, and waits while Susan catches up.

She looks speechless for a moment, before finding her voice.

“That’s hardly the same thing, Billy, please tell me you know that,” she says, and she’s looking at him like she genuinely thinks he believes those things are interchangeable.

“Okay, then, why now?” he cuts to, because outside of the entire ‘what the fuck’ of it all, that’s the only other burning question both him and Max have. Why now, when Billy’s got one foot out the door, and Max is close on his heels. Why now, when they’re still shit broke from the move from the west coast to Fucking Nowhere, Indiana. Why now?

Susan won’t look at him, just starts fiddling with her toast and gathering up crumbs.

“It just happened, and it seemed right,” she says softly, and Billy knows his dad’s a fucking piece of shit, but the longer Susan won’t even meet his eye, can’t even string a believable lie together to take cover in, the more Billy starts to worry that maybe his dad’s like, a cut the head off, bury the body, never speak about it again, kind of fucking piece of shit.

“Did- did my dad, like,” Billy starts, then quickly sits in the seat beside her, “if he forced you, or-” he tries again, but Susan’s finally looking at him, and-

“No! No, nothing like that,” she says, and it's the strongest her voice has sounded in the past 24 hours. “It genuinely was just…” she stops, then starts again after a breath, “an accident. A happy accident,” she repeats, sounding firm.

Billy leans back in his chair and rubs at his eyes, ‘cause while he’s glad his dad’s not a complete fucking monster, it still leaves the question of why. Susan’s doing a pretty bang up job of playing the part of wanting to expand the family, except for how she totally fucking sucks at it.

“Do you want this?” he asks after they’ve sat there for another few moments, because he may have asked it in a few different ways already, but he feels like he needs to ask again. “If you genuinely want this, I promise I'll crawl off your dick about it, try keep Max in line, too. But like, do you actually want this, Susan?”

Susan swallows, and can’t meet his eyes.

“There’s a clinic,” he broaches gently, trying not to spook her, “they’re open in an hour. I can take the morning off work, drive you out there. Accidents happen all the time, especially with advanced maternal age pregnancies,” he raises his eyebrows at her when she looks at him with surprise. “Yeah, I google shit.”

Susan's still playing with the toast, ripping the crusts to shreds, and Billy feels like this nightmare could be over so soon, if he could just get her to agree.

“Neil won’t have to know. It’ll just be a tragic accident, another baby lost to the first trimester. You’ll be okay,” he keeps going, “it doesn’t even hurt, I don’t think. They’re like, professional and shit.” Billy thinks maybe he should've done a little more research for this part, outside of the opening hours and availabilities for today, but he’s hoping if she has any questions, he can just offer to book the appointment and ask then.

Susan’s not saying anything, but she’s also not reacting the way Billy thought she would. He honestly was expecting instant refusal, possibly even shock. Maybe a slap across the face, or surprise, even. Instead, she just looks sad, and a little resigned.

They sit there for another few moments, and Billy’s glad he switched with Heather and isn’t on open today, because this entire mornings taking a hell of a lot longer than Billy planned.

“Susan?” he asks quietly, waiting.

That seems to snap her out of it, and she gathers her plate and stands, then walks to the bin to throw the leftovers out. Billy stands too, and leans against the table, watching her wash her plate and leaving it in the rack to air dry.

“Neil got home early,” she says eventually, and Billy’s got no fucking idea where this is going.

He shrugs, makes a ‘go on’ gesture, even though Susans not even looking his way, and Susan just repeats the same thing.

“Neil got home early.”

“Yeah, I got that,” he says, because he’s not fucking following.

“I suspected, so I took the test, and by the time I realised he was home, he was standing in the doorway, and then the timer went off,” she’s facing him now, and she doesn’t look nervous or scared, just frustrated. “It was positive. And Neil was beside me, and he said that maybe this could be a good thing. Good for us.”

“Neil says a lot of things,” Billy says slowly, “they’re mostly all shit, though.”

Susan breathes out a laugh, then goes back to looking frustrated and slightly miserable.

“I don’t get it,” Billy says, because he doesn’t. “Neil said it was gonna be a great time, so you said ‘sure, let’s have a fucking baby!’, simple as that?”

“He came home early,” she repeats, looking at Billy like she’s begging him to understand.

“Yeah,” Billy says hotly, “he’s annoying like that. He’s done it to me, too.”

She sighs, and Billy wishes she would just fucking spit it out already, because it feels big, and he just wants to fucking understand.

“He came home early, and I didn’t have time to deal with it,” she expands, and now the pictures coming together for Billy, finally.

Billy makes a wordless noise, and probably looks like he does when he tries to do math, ‘cause that shit’s confusing, but he’s trying to understand. “He came home early, and you didn’t have time to deal with it,” he repeats, “because, you have dealt with it, before.”

Susan nods, looking relieved, although still miserable.

“You-” he starts, pointing at her, then gestures vaguely to her stomach, “you’ve done this before?”

“Well, I’m not dealing with it this time, but…” she trails off.

“But, you have,” he states, then “once, before?” he asks, fully expecting to get shut down.

“Twice,” she corrects

Billy lets that sit for a second, because, holy fuck, okay.

“Okay, well. Then you know what to do, right?” It's been a wild 12 hours, but Billy’s starting to think it’s gonna get back on track.

Susan looks at him sadly again, like he’s still not getting it, but Billy got it, okay, Billy fully fucking understood it. Neil interrupted her before she could fix it quickly and quietly, but with a bit of figuring out, she should still be able to sort it.

“I’m keeping the baby, Billy,” she says, and Billy wants to bang his head against a wall.

“Okay, but why!” He doesn’t even give a shit anymore about sounding like a fucking child, just wants to understand.

She’s got tears in her eyes again, and Billy’s pretty sure he started this morning with trying to not make her cry, but now he really doesn’t give a damn. She sniffles, and tries to smile at him.

“Because Neil said it could be a good thing, that we could be a family, and-” she cuts herself off and crosses her arms, hugging herself, “and I believe him.”

“‘The fuck are me and Max then?” Billy throws back, “not a good thing? Not your fucking family?” he questions, getting heated.

Susan’s shaking her head, but Billy’s finished with this conversation.

“I have to go to work, have fun being sick, or whatever.” He doesn’t slam the door on the way out, because he’s not Max, but it’s a near thing.

anyway basiacally the summary here is neil and susan have a baby. somehow that's billy's problem. ft him and max literally getting their lives together for reasons they never even considered before

worlds worst employee:

akjdhkjas i am sorry to disappoint but it is Not billy in a cat cafe although that idea sounds amazing please write it! uh it is literally something i have had in my drafts since literally september 2020 and is basically just billy and max going back to california, max for college and billy just because he Needs to. then billy finding the job market is Shit and he has no credentials to his name, no certificates or real experience anywhere aside from lifeguarding, only just scraped through and graduated high school, and fuck him—he is not doing college. so. he goes into hospitality and retail, and builds himself up to be employee of the fucking month despite his foul language and his general bad mood because he's annoyingly good at pretty much anything, and then when he can't be fucked with that job anymore he gets himself fired in usually a very public and spectacular way, then rinse and repeat at the next job. the only job he keeps and puts real effort into is the bar job he managed to score, because it's actually decent, and the tips are killer. also mandy milkovich is there becos i think they should be besties and i think i was watching the ep where she works at that fast food place with the shitty uniform and hat etc and was like. her and billy would raise absolutel hell together. i need them terrorising customers stat.

fire and grace:

title from the hilltop hoods ft ruel song of the same name because she Fits and i lover her

anyway! billy and hopper body swap! pretty sure i already posted a snippet literally again back in like 2020 and have barely touched it since, but! still fun!

"is max safe?" maybe if hop tried a different angle.

billy laughs humorlessly, spinning the glass in his hand, "max is the golden child."

"yeah? heard she didn't even get grounded after that night at the byers."

billy flinches, looking up at hopper, then lowering his eyes again.

"covered for her. big brother of the fucking year," he makes a half hearted cheering motion with one arm before letting it fall back on to his knee.

"that was kind of you,” hopper keeps fishing, knows billy’s gonna clam up for good any minute now, “looking out for her like that." he sits back in his chair.

"yeah, well. she wouldn't last a fucking day in my shoes," billy stands abruptly and starts to pace the small cell before stopping in front of him.

"so, am i in here all night, chief, or are you gonna drop me home now," billy starts drumming his hands on the bars. "not that this heart to heart hasn't been everything school mandated therapy promised me, but you’ve got a kid to go home to, i’ve got a bed to go home to," billy gestures between them, then starts drumming again. "so, what's it gonna be, sir?"

hopper sighs, knows his window of getting anything from billy is more or less closed, and reaches to get the keys.

billy tracks the movement then grins at him. "good choice, old man."

hopper stops to give him a dry look, then unlocks the door, letting billy swing it open. billy swaggers out like he runs the place, finishes the coke still sitting on hop’s desk, and grabs his phone, wallet, and keys. "shotgun," he calls over his shoulder, heading towards the door.

"so,” hopper starts, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, “max wouldn't last a day in your shoes, huh?" they're two streets away from billy’s house, but hop'll be damned if he doesn't give it one last go.

billy hmm’s, staring out the window, giving hopper a quick glance back and a one shouldered shrug.

"so, what? when you leave town and i'm just meant to keep an extra eye out? let her stay in the drunk tank every now and again like i let you. cover for her when she sneaks out with sinclair?" hop's got one hand on the steering wheel, the other hand gesturing around as he talks.

"told her to break it off with sinclair, that’s on her if it blows up in her face. besides," billy says tiredly, before turning to grin at him, his eyes turning ugly, "you wouldn't last a day in my shoes either, chief.”

they're on cherry lane now, and hop knows the second billy walks out, it’s all over. billy will pretend that everything said tonight was never spoken.

“so, you walking me to the front door? no lights on in the house, i could probably sneak in,” billy's leaning down and casing the house, talking more to himself than hop by then end of the sentence.

hop looks at him and looks at the hand clenching on the door handle, the other hand tapping away on his leg, having not stopped once this entire drive.

“your shoes gonna be easier to walk in tomorrow if i let you sneak in?”

“yes, sir,” billy’s face still looks hard, but at the prospect of being able to sneak in, it eases up a little.

hopper sits there for a minute before nodding, unlocking the car with the button on his side.

AND THEN they wake up the next morning having switched bodies. they last a few days before max finally corners billy (hopper) and makes him fess up, because hop didnt realise how fucking terrifying 13 yr old girls could be. el's a fucking saint compared to this hellraiser. max believes them instantly because hop's a terrible actor and after watching chief hopper aka billy stroll into benny's and use his badge and his flirting skills to get free drinks, she's like, yeah thats absolutely some bullshit billy would pull, you don't even need to convince me. also have some vague lil snippets of a bodyswap au between billy & max and also billy & karen because i think they could be literally so fucking. SATISFYING and interesting to like. pick apart and think about askfjhkajds

summer *****:

SAHDFLASHFLKDAHSLKHSAL like. no. maybe? no. it's summer mpreg aka my twd au but ya boi gets knocked up because i AM a simple girl for mpreg and i was TRYING to write twd au as something that i could like. post and publish publicly without being a freak about it but i got like 20k in and was like. actually i'm writing this for myself and EYE wanna see mpreg because it would make ME happy. so i started again and summer ***** is a lot longer than it's orignial self and i haven't touched that version since i started this one oops kjwsafhkasjk

tbf technicallyyyyyyy billy dies like. one day after he figures out he's knocked up. so it's like. is it really mpreg? but then the time travel fix it part comes into effect and it's like yeahhhhh it fuckin is.

uhhh billy max and neil make it to the quarry, billy and daryl are barely on each others rader until the claimers, but they get close after that. get even closer after rick dies, and billy refuses to let daryl move out to his little camp of loneliness alone. don't get together till like 11 yrs into the apocolypse aka reaper era baby!

Billy’s still in bed when Daryl gets in from watch.

“You good?” he asks, unbuttoning his shirt and roughhousing with Dog, who's bouncing around now that there's someone to play with.

“Yo, you good?” he asks again when Billy doesn't reply, throwing his shirt at him.

He still doesn't answer, so Daryl makes his way over to Billy’s unofficial side of the bed, scratching Dog’s ears from where he’s jumped up to lay with him, his head resting on Billy’s hip, and squats down on the ground a bit.

“‘Sup?” he says, ‘cause he’s never gonna be good at this relationship shit, and it’s still so fucking new–barely weeks old–but he knows he wants to fucking try.

Billy huffs a laugh, then his face closes off again, and he tells him to fuck off.

“Fuckin’ burnin’ daylight, man,” he says, not really knowing what else to say. For as lazy as Billy claims to be, he’s never really been the type to lay around all day, even when they had the luxury of it.

Somethin’ ain’t right. Daryl can feel it.

“Feel sick,” Billy finally mumbles out.

Daryl’s seen Billy fight in wars, covered in blood and bruises and guts, then try and build a dollhouse the next day, all because Holly, Judith, and Gracie asked. Seen him throw up from concussions, walk miles and miles and miles on a sprained ankle, carry multiple backpacks with broken ribs, and do it all with barely a flicker of pain crossing his face.

He feels his heart drop, because if Billy's sick, and sick enough to stay in bed and admit to it, then he’s probably fuckin’ already dead.

“You bit?” Daryl rushes, ripping the quilt cover off him, only for Billy to grip it tight and pull it back up.

“Not fucking bit, jesus christ,” he yells, lifting his head off the pillow finally. “‘The fuck would I be laying here for, if I was fuckin’ bit?”

“Hell would I know! You're the one in bed whingin’ ‘bout bein’ sick,” Daryl throws back, leaning back against the wall, still squating.

Billy doesn't bother replying again, just pulls the quilt up higher then sniffles hard.

“You like, regular sick? Or bad sick?” Daryl questions after they've both been silent for a while. Doesn't even expect Billy to reply, but for once, Daryl can't take the quiet.

“Depends,” Billy says thickly, then swallows like he’s trying not to cry.

Daryl waits him out, but Billy seems to not give a fuck that he’s currently keeping him on the verge of a heart attack, and doesn't elaborate.

“Give me somethin’ to work with here, man,” Daryl basically begs.

Billy brings a hand up to his face and rubs roughly at his eyes, Dog jumping off to sit in between Daryl’s legs, before he sits up slowly. He bends his knees slightly and leans forward to rest his arms on them, then lets his head drop forward but turns his face to look at Daryl. Dog rests his head on the edge of the bed, looking up at him.

“Threw up most the night, which, whatever, fine. Super chill. Except for the fact I threw up most the night before, too. And the night before that, and the night fucking before that, and basically all last week, and everytime I eat, I feel sick, and fucking everything’s making me nauseous, and right now the smell of Dog might actually kill me, and I swear to fucking god, Daryl, if you knocked me the fuck up–” he chokes, swiping at his eyes and breathing heavily, “you’ll be hearing from my fucking laywers,” Billy ends with, looking suddenly fucking exhausted.

Daryl’s brain short circuits, and he finally slides down the wall to sit properly on the floor, stroking Dog’s back absentmindedly.

“Who the fuck are your lawyers?” he starts with, before shaking his head. Magna, probably. Kelly, too. “That ain’t fuckin’ possible. We’re guys. Don’t got the equipment for that shit.”

Except, there’s been rumours and stories for months now, maybe even years. Of guys getting pregnant. Most dying before reaching full term, body not quite adapting to it the way it should. He’s only heard one story of it being successful and the baby and dad surviving. Two, if you count the one where only the baby made it. Feels lightheaded at the possibility of it, and can feel the heat and sweat prickle his skin.

“Yeah, well. Welcome to the apocalypse. Evolution’s a bitch,” Billy states plainly, throwing his hand out loosely before hanging his head between his arms.

Dog jumps up then, nudging his head forward to lick Billy’s face, and Billy dry heaves on the spot. Daryl quickly grabs Dog and pulls him down, and watches Billy pull himself back together, mask back on.

Billy looks up at Daryl, eyes wet but face emotionless, and shrugs. “So. That’s where we’re at right now.”

Daryl doesn't reply this time. Doesn't have a fucking clue what to say. Can count on one hand how many times him and Billy have even had sex, because this shit’s new, and so so fucking fragile, and now–

Now, Billy could be staring down the barrel of a gun for the next nine months, and no one's gonna be able to pull him out of the line of fire.

“Can we just like–get rid of it?” Daryl asks, ‘cause surely thats fuckin’ safer than whatever this could turn into.

“Jerry said that the couple that stopped by the Kingdom tried that. Still died,” Billy sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Body doesn't know what the fuck it’s doing. Just gotta–” he stumbles, taking in a deep breath before continuing, “just gotta let it run it's course. See what fucking happens,” he finishes, voice cracking and eyes glassy.

They sit there, then, the only sound being Dog panting from his spot lying beside Daryl on the floor. Billy eventually lays back down and pulls the covers up, facing the ceiling. Daryl sits there a moment longer, then pushes himself up. Can't really deal with the possibility of Billy dying–of being the reason he’s gonna die. Grabs his shirt from where it’s fallen to the ground and shrugs it back on.

“The hell are you going?” Billy asks, watching Daryl pour some dog food in Dog’s bowl before heading towards the stairs.

“I need a fuckin’ minute,” he throws over his shoulder, then walks out.

If he had known that that was gonna be one of the last times he’d ever see Billy alive, he never would've left. Would've gotten into bed with him instead, told him some shit about how it was gonna be okay, that they’d work it out. It wouldn't even be bullshit, ‘cause Daryl would've done anything for it to be true.

Instead, he walks out onto the street, finds himself getting dragged into the plan to deal with the Reapers, and by the time he sees Billy next, it’s too late.

He watches Billy die a night later.

They’re running.

Daryl can feel the trees flying past, his lungs on fire, and the Reapers gaining ground. Thinks, he can’t fucking die yet. Billy’ll fucking kill him. He’s still got shit to do. He focuses forward and sees Maggie a ways ahead, Negan somewhere off to his side, and knows it’s gonna be close.

Can hear Billy’s voice in his head, yelling about how this was a stupid fucking plan.

As far as he’s concerned, it’s the only fucking plan.

They slow down eventually, after they’ve put some distance between them and the ones chasing them, and stop in a clearing. Maggie’s already there and waiting, bent over and trying to catch her breath.

“Think we’re clear?”

Daryl takes a second to look behind him, having not heard anything for at least the last few miles, and shoots her a grim look. He can’t be sure. The Reapers were always good at coming out of fucking nowhere.

Negan stumbles in a moment later, and they all take a minute to get themselves sorted and figure out the next best course of action.

“Probably should’ve gone with the kid’s plan, ‘cause this shit? This shit is not fucking working,” Negan complains, leaning against a tree. “I don’t run for my Iife, okay, people run from me.”

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Daryl says, barely sparing him a glance, before taking in where they are. “We’re still too close, gotta move. Let’s go.”

They barely make it a foot out of the clearing before the Reapers are surrounding them from all sides. One comes up behind Maggie and drags her into the middle, another herding Negan in close, and two more close in on Daryl.

“Found this one by himself,” they hear from behind, and Daryl feels dread settle in his veins. They all struggle to turn, trying to shake off the hands holding them in place, and once turned, Daryl feels his entire body stop. Looks at the struggling body being held captive by Pope–taking in the hood over their head, the rings on their fingers, the shitty tattoo on their wrist, and the way they refuse to stay fucking still, even when completely in the shit–and he knows. “One of yours, I presume?”

He hears Maggie let out a sob from beside him, and Negan let out a quiet ‘well, shit.’

“What was the plan, may I ask, because you have to know we’re smarter than this.” Pope questions.

This wasn’t the fucking plan, Daryl wants to yell. They vetoed this plan. Billy pitched it, tried to bang on about how he could bait the Reapers out and buy them all some time, and him and Maggie fucking benched him for it.

He should be back at Alexandria and in bed, because he’s sick.

Not here, in the middle of the fucking woods–in the middle of fucking Reaper territory–with some old fuck gripping him around the throat and some other freak holding an honest to god grim reaper axe behind his back.

Billy shouldn’t be here right now, is all his mind can think.

Daryl looks at him and suddenly feels the weight of their unfinished conversation from yesterday sit heavy on his chest. Billy said he was basically already dead, and Daryl fucking walked. Had to, ‘cause he knew he wasn't thinking clearly. His mind going ‘round in circles trying to figure out how to salvage this mess. Knows that the only thing walking out did was piss Billy off, but fuck. It felt like the smartest choice at the time. What did Billy expect? Daryl to handle that shit rationality? Like him dropping the fact that he was pregnant–a fucking death sentence in this world–and that he was going to lose him, was something he could just roll with.

He needed a fucking minute.

Shit, he still needs a fucking minute.

Looking at him now, Daryl realises there's a chance he’s gonna lose him anyway.

“Just–please…” Maggie starts, knowing damn well they have no bargaining power.

Pope casts a look at the guy holding the axe beside him, and Daryl barely has a second to prepare himself before the axe is sticking out of Billy’s chest, his muffled screams bouncing off the trees.

“No!” Maggie yells, and Daryl feels like this has to be a nightmare. Like if he could just wake up, it would be yesterday, and he could do the day right.

He just needs to go back to yesterday, and wake the fuck up.

Pope takes that moment to rip the hood off Billy’s head, then yank the improvised mouth gag off as well. Billy stumbles forward a bit, adjusting to the small amount of light, before Pope pulls him back roughly and he has to scramble to get his feet under himself.

Daryl sees the moment he realises how fucked he is. Watches his eyes widen when he sees them all lined up in front of him, his eyes scanning the clearing and finding all the Reapers scattered around. He looks down at his chest then, taking in the axe that’s poking out, and looks back up.

“Think both our plans were shit, to be fair,” he chokes out, and Daryl’s actually gonna kill him, when they all survive this.

If they all survive this.

“We’re not here to make a deal with you, or to come to an agreement. You killed some of ours, now we’ll kill one of yours. Not the fairest of trades, but it’ll do for tonight.” Pope narrates, and Daryl barely has time to blink before another Reaper is stepping out of the dark, pulling out a sword. He hears more than sees what happens next, and is lunging forward to get to Billy before he can stop himself.

Negan yanks him back at the last second, somehow breaking free from his own hostage holder, and Daryl can only watch on as the sword now buried straight through Billy’s gut drips fresh blood, piercing him from behind. Billy screams, loud and unforgiving and shaking the whole damn forest, his legs giving out. Pope’s grip holds strong, though, and Billy doesn’t even have a chance to fall. He lets out another yell as he gets his feet under him, the weapons in his chest and torso pulling, and stares at the growing blood stain over his stomach, his shoulders jerking like he’s doing everything he can to free his arms.

Daryl can’t fucking breath.

The entire forest is silent except for Billy’s cries of pain, and his own and Maggie’s crying. Didn’t even know he was crying, until now.

Slowly, Billy looks up at him, his face fucking shattered.

Daryl knows then and there that this is it. Can see the grief in his eyes, like he’s already begging for forgiveness, and suddenly Daryl’s fucking furious.

He wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight. Maggie already told him exactly what she thought of his plan, and Daryl went off at him the second she finished.

It was a shitty fucking plan.

And if he had just fucking listened, he would be safe right now.

He would be home.

Billy coughs up some blood then, and all the anger drains right back out of him.

“It’s okay,” Billy chokes out, tears streaming down his face and trying to smile around the blood pooling in his mouth and dripping down his chin. “I’m okay.”

He coughs again, and Daryl wants to tell him to stop talking, to save his breath, but can’t make his mouth move. Negan’s still holding him back, and Daryl knows if he let go, he’d fucking sink. He swallows roughly, feeling himself leaning into Negan more heavily, refusing to break eye contact with Billy.

“I’ll be right behind you, promise,” Billy says, or tries to, more blood than voice, and Daryl only knows he said it ‘cause he knows him.

Daryl finally feels his mouth move.

Manages to push Billy’s name past his lips before Pope pulls him back up tall and clears his throat.

“Any last words?” He asks, dragging a hook like weapon up to Billy’s throat, and Billy’s on his tippy-toes now, trying to escape the pressure of it, eyes fucking terrified.

The Reapers that were holding them in place seem to step back in sync, and Daryl rolls out his now free shoulder, Maggie falling to her knees.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Negan breathes out, sounding genuinely fucked up. He pulls Daryl back, though, and reaches a hand out to pull at Maggie, too.

Billy’s eyes flick to him, and Daryl sees him give Negan a ghost of a nod, his face finally finding some peace.

Pope smiles at them, then starts dragging Billy away by the hook, Billy stumbling to keep his neck up and his feet moving, the blade ready to slit his throat at the slightest misstep. Daryl watches until he can’t see them anymore, dread filling his stomach at the knowledge that Billy’s gonna die alone; with no one there to hold his hand, no one to comfort him in his last moments. Knows it was one of the only fears he had left–dying alone.

He tries to push down the ugly part of him, born out of years of watching his loved ones die, that's relieved that he doesn't have to see it this time.

Negan pulls at him once the last of the Reapers have disappeared, Maggie already up and waiting with an outstretched hand.

They run.

Billy’s screams start back up a minute later, and after putting enough distance between them and the enemy, they stop and duck behind a fat as fuck tree, and listen to his final moments. It’s the closest they can get to being there for him, he thinks. Billy’s screams go on for what feels like eternity, before cutting off abruptly, like someone turned the lights out. Maggie’s gripping his hand, and he thinks he lets out a sob. Can feel her bury her head in his shoulder, her small frame shaking, and he realises he’s shaking just as much.

“We gotta move,” Negan says, breaking the silence after a minute, sounding like he actually regrets it.

Daryl casts one last look over his shoulder, before letting Maggie pull him forward.

They’ll come back in the morning to find his body, and make sure he gets put to rest. Daryl won’t let him become another Rick.

Daryl splits back to Alexandria, even though Maggie tries to convince him to come back to Hilltop, telling him she doesn't want him to be alone, then changing tactics and saying it isn't safe to split up yet. Daryl shrugs her off, and by the time he makes it home, he feels completely numb. He takes one look at the empty and cold bed, with its sheets and quilt cover half falling off–exactly the way Billy left it, and turns right back around. Dog spends the first five minutes jumping all over him, excited to see him, before picking up that something’s wrong, and by then Daryl can't really keep his shit together. He makes himself at home on the front porch, legs stretched out long in front of him and Dog resting his head on his leg, running a calming hand up and down his back, and then–he fucking breaks.

Wishes with everything he has in him that he could go back to yesterday, to do everything all over again, or maybe back to a few weeks ago, so they never get themselves into that situation in the first place.

Thinks, if he could just do everything again, he’d save everyone.

Wakes up the next morning to Dog licking his face and Negan standing above him, a bottle of water outstretched towards him.

“Time to go,” he says, looking like hell. “Let’s go find the kid.”

Daryl accepts the drink and pushes himself up.

Time to bring Billy home.

THANKS FOR LISTENING IF U MADE IT THIS FAR i have had FUN sorry for literally all of this i love you

#msgs <3 #lucdarling

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honey-makki · 3 years

Text

grandma’s blessing

best friend!hanamaki takahiro x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of death (family member), oral (fem receiving), fire, probably unsanitary cooking conditions if i’m being honest (it’s soft i swear)

summary: the holidays are your favorite time of year. your best friend hanamaki tries to keep holiday cheer alive despite the loss of a family member.

word count 2.4k

masterlist

Holiday’s are tricky. Decisions on whether the trauma of going home will be a heavier burden to bear than the guilt and loneliness of your city apartment. GOing home was never a pleasant experience. Trips filled with parents nitpicking your seemingly successful life and emotionally battering you about anything and everything they could. The only reprieve would be hugging your grandmother and being able to see her face-to-face during dinner. She understood why you didn’t come home every opportunity and didn’t blame you a bit.

On years when it would be too much to travel, you knew that she would still give you a call. Spending all day on the phone with you while you bounced around the kitchen making much smaller portions of what they would be eating at home. Even the small amounts of silence on the call were comfortable. You could feel her next to you kneading the dough for a pie while you mixed together the fruit base. It felt like home.

The silence that has been living in your apartment the past few months after her passing was suffocating. Weekends spent with friends at their apartment just to get out of somewhere that just seems to reek of death and despair.

You had spent more nights at Makki’s place in the past month than at your own. He was your closest friend, a true confidant, someone skilled at lifting your mood, and the person you’ve been undeniably in love with for years. You accepted the fate of growing old with a horde of cats as long as you can have his silly pink hair shining in the sun when you hung out with friends. It’s ok that you are going to be alone forever as long as you still had a standing laser tag date once a month. The only thing stronger than your feelings of love towards the strawberry blond was fear of losing him.

He has been a pillar of strength during the past few months. Holding your crying body until you fall asleep on his tear-stained and snot covered chest. Setting alarms in your phone to make sure you are eating or going to work instead of sitting in a dissociative state. Ever since you shared a bed with him, he’s been a little more comfortable with physical contact. Walking closer together arms touching when going out or throwing an arm over your shoulder when lounging around the house. You can’t count the number of times you’ve both woken up in various stages of cuddling.

He was the one to bring up spending the holidays together. He had just gone home for a wedding and couldn’t afford another ticket and he knew that you were in a weird spot. “We can stay here and make dinner and bake cookies and watch shitty r-romcoms? Someone has to appreciate Hallmark movies, why not us?” You can hear his voice crack and start to speed up as a blush rises across his face. You see it but don’t really process it, more relieved that for the first time in months, the thought of holidays didn’t make you run to the bathroom and throw up. You smiled and nodded, setting plans for him to come over later in the week.

Makki always liked when you cooked, throwing a western spin on dishes he considered normal. But today, he was flabbergasted, you didn’t let him just sit on the barstool curating music while you did all the work, no, there was too much food to be made for him to laze around. You laid out the recipe for your grandmothers’ mac n’ cheese, explaining what everything meant while you got started on an asian fusion stuffing you figured out a few years back.

You stole glances at him in the middle of stirring, combining and folding everything together. His tongue sticks out between his lips while he deliberately measures out the exact amount of cheese required. In all the time you’ve seen him, you’ve never seen him totally lose his laid back air until now, and you can’t control your laugh. Is he really more serious about measuring out sharp cheddar cheese than a game that would take them to nationals? Or that physics final he actually studied for? Your heart skips a beat when you see his soft, satisfied smile to the dish he just created. All you can picture when he looks over to you is how cute of a child he must have been. Cheeks round encasing his bright smile as his head tilts ever so slightly to the left.

After he slides the last dish into the oven, you both opt for taking the time to clean the kitchen, knowing that you won’t want to do it after dinner. The dishes are washed and dried and while Makki puts away the ones that go on a higher shelf, you return flour and other ingredients to the pantry but before you put them down you call out to him, voice lighter than normal, the one you use when asking a favor.

“Taka, how upset would you be if I said I wanted to cook a little bit more?”

“You get dishes this time around then, but what are we makin’?”

You turn out of the pantry with a bounce in your step before slapping down the flour and newly acquired, chocolate chips and sprinkles. “Cookies! We always made cookies with my grandma and it wouldn’t be the same without them.” Your eyes sparkle at the thought of the sweet treats and equally sweet memories of your childhood. Makki thinks you are breathtaking.

“Let me get the bowls back down and we can probably make mediocre cookies if you have anything you do with it.” He smiles at just how cute the squawk you made from his teasing is, just happy that he gets to be here with you. He doesn’t really hear how you defend your baking skills and complain that just because you forgot flour one time doesn’t mean you are inept at baking.

He never thought he would be the type to settle down and be domestic, it just didn’t seem like something he cared a lot about, but now he he can’t rid his mind of the thought of waking up ten minutes before your alarm just to make you a cup of coffee or throwing your favorite blanket in the drier on days it’s raining so when you get home, you can melt into the soft plush and warm up instantly.The clattering of spices brings him back to the moment, turning to see you picking up the cinnamon and vanilla extract.

“You good, love?” There’s something about how you look when you flustered because of him, that scratches an itch he didn’t know was there. The first time a pet name like this had slipped through his lips he was certain that whatever line the two of you were toeing had been crossed, demolished. Instead you just tucked your hair away and averted your gaze back to whatever shitty movie the two of you were “watching” that night. Now it’s normal, well its not normal, its very much not normal for him to refer to you as love or babe and it's not normal for you to exclusivley call him by his first name. It's decidedly abnormal considering your relationship or lack thereof. But if you aren’t going to question it neither is he.

He helps you up and gather the remaining ingredients for the “famous snickerdoodle cookies” that you swear had won awards. The mixing of the dough is interrupted when he has to grab your wrist to stop you from adding salt instead of sugar. You refuse to look at him because you know he is sporting a huge smirk and raised eyebrows, knowing that he’s right about you not being the best baker. You are reprieved by the oven going off, signaling to remove the earlier and change the temperature.

“Damn, babe, these cookies look so good, especially this one.” You return to Makki who already started to lay out the dough on the baking tray. You see perfectly round blobs squished slightly by a fork for a pattern and then right in front of him you see the cookie he was talking about. You didn't expect to see your 27 year old boyfriend-who-isn’t-your-boyfriend to be holding a cockshaoped cookie. But really, you should have seen it coming from the guy who laughs when either of you fart.

He can hear the clock ticking as you just stare, annoyed. He was concerned for a second, that maybe he shouldn’t have made a lewd joke when making cookies. This is something he used to do with her grandmother, you stupid idiot.. But when he can see the apple of your cheek peeking out from behind your hand, he recognizes that face. The one that positively exudes warmth and happiness with her laughter. The butterflies always buzzing in his stomach go wild when this face comes out. He would do anything to see it for the rest of time.

You don’t know where the courage comes from but you cup his cheek for a kiss, he mirrors your action. It just felt normal, and you honestly didn’t realize that it wasn’t normal until you both pulled back. Your eyes are locked on his, both of you sporting a soft smile until his keeps growing, evolving into a laugh that is borderline offensive in how loud it is.

You don’t know why and you get a little nervous that maybe he doesn’t feel the same way, when you go to hide your face, you feel the heat rising but also a soft powdery coating? And that’s when you realize his hands are still coated in flour from shaping the cookies. Your eyes are rolling while you chuckle but Makki on the other hand is losing his mind, almost in tears from laughing while putting the cookies in the oven. “It’s not that funny, Takahiro! Get me a napkin please.”

“Nah, you look really sweet. Good enough to eat.” You weren’t surprised when he returned to kissing you, nor when he lifted you up by your thighs and plopped you on the counter. The kisses are sweet, lazy and perfect for a second kiss, and a third and a fourth. This is normal. His lips belong on yours. Your hands should be tangled up in his hair while his run over your waist and legs. This is right. There's no rush to deepen the kiss, both of you happy to just indulge in the warmth of the other, but it is inevitable. A soft nip at your bottom lip or an accidental tug of his hair, neither of you know what happened first but you both are staring at each other, panting lightly with a much darker gaze than the original flour induced makeout session.

“You are just as sweet as I thought. Gotta have a taste.” His voice is raspier than you’ve ever heard and you just let him move your body as he pleases. Pull your hips to the edge of the counter. Spread your legs as far apart as they’ll go. Lift your hips when he pulls your shorts and underwear down. Gotta act as sweet as he says I am. He has barely touched you but when he falls to his knees and just stares at your dripping slit that he's imagined for years, your eyes, you are already imagining how good he's going to feel.

You shouldn’t even try to think, his tongue exceeded any expectation or desire you had. Expertly flicking against your throbbing clit as he works two fingers in you. You feel the groan he lets out when he dips his tongue into your hole before you hear it. The vibrations reverberate up your spine and through your body, an all-consuming heat starting in your stomach, threatening to let loose, to run rampant on your body. His fingers, joined by another, return to your clenching hole and search for the spongy spot hidden deep inside. All you can hear is the blood rushing through your head, drowning out every other noise.

“C’mon love, cum on my fingers, on my tongue, I’ve wanted, dreamed about this for years, give it to me.” His slow words juxtaposed the fervent pace of his fingers and it was enough to send you over the edge.

You feel so hot you fear you might pass out, the groan Makki lets out beneath you is the only thing keeping you grounded. You were first concerned that you had hurt him in someway, but when you see his eyes roll back into his head and his tongue trying to lap up every single bit of cum you squirted on his face and thighs, you know it wasn’t due to excruciating pain, rather it's just an obscene reaction to you.

When you push him back, squirming with overstimulation, you hear him scramble and “Shit! Fuck! Fire extinguisher?? WHERE IS YOUR FIRE EXTINGUISHER???” You are still out of it until he starts actually screaming, words still evade you but he follows your line of sight to the red tube hiding in the corner next to the fridge. The smell of smoke is overwhelming all of a sudden. You were in a dreamlike post orgasmic state and suddenly your coughing, eyes hazy.

the cookies, SHIT THE COOKIES!! Smoke is billowing out of the oven and your fire alarm is blaring, but soon the room is filled with a white foam originating from Makki. You never realized that the foam would continue to expand until half of your kitchen was covered in it and you saw a sheepish looking Makki on the other side.

“Fires out”. Again, he starts to laugh at you, and this time you join him. Today has turned out entirely different than you expected. It wasn’t a sad day, it was filled with laughter, romance, an ill timed fire and Makki. All in all, a successful holiday, despite the fact everything you cooked was coated in foam. He’d seen you staring at the food and already took his phone out to order food, “Indian or ramen?”

Yeah, you think you’re grandma would be happy seeing you like this. Happy Holidays.

a/n: i don’t really know what this is but the image of makki being a disaster in the kitchen came to me one day and here we are. make sure you read the other fics in the collab

matsukawa’s funeral home winter collab

a/n 2.0: also a/o to @iwaasfairy for making that makki image that i used in my header. i love her more than i love him which say a lot

#hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki drabble #hanamaki x y/n #hanamaki smut #haikyuu smut #makki smut #makki x reader #makki x you #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki.coffee #kristen.writes #oral.espresso

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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Indruck 22 for the meet uglies?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one

you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship

“...such a waste of money. I mean, why spend all that to get something tacky on your skin?”

Indrid rolls his eyes at Barclay from across the counter of the Amnesty Lodge coffee shop, the cooks arms and hands sporting a plethora of tattoos rivaled only by Indrid’s collection.

“I dunno, l like the one I got.” The other man--who seems to be on the worst first date of his life--shrugs.

“You honestly think you and Juno couldn’t have spent that money on something else in college?”

“I mean maybe but, uh, we were earnin our own cash, figured we got to decide what to spend it on.”

“Hmmmm” the first guy sips his coffee, “sounds like a typical excuse for someone who doesn’t want to admit a mistake.”

“C’mon, that ain’t fair-”

“Ugh, stop saying ain’t! I can’t take someone who talks like that to meet my family.” Before the target of his disdain can respond, he snaps his fingers, “hey, buddy, can I get a refill or what?”

“The station for black coffee refills is right there, sir.” Barclay indicates the very obvious corner of dispensers, his voice the kind of calm that Indrid knows means he’s memorizing this guys face to warn other staff about.

They earn a brief reprieve while The Asshole leaves the table. When he returns, he’s shaking his head.

“God, have you looked at the photos they’ve got up? Who the fuck wants to look at bones?”

Indrid quickly glances at his friend to be sure he’s permitted to start a fight. Barclay nods.

“Quite a lot of people.” Indrid spins on his stool. “I’ve sold a number of them just from the display here. So perhaps you could keep your rude, unclultured, close-minded, obnoxious mouth shut.”

The man balks, looks to his companion for help. He offers none, mouth trying to form words and only coming out with halves of ones (except for the “fucks” which are plentiful).

“Oh my fucking god, you agree with him! That’s it, I’m out.” The Asshole pushes back from the table and storms out. The remaining man leaps up, panicked.

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay man, shitty first dates happen to all of us.” Barclay offers from beside the bakery case.

“I mean yeah, they do, but that wasn’t one of ‘em. That was my boyfriend of three fuckin years.” He dashes out of the shop, sparing a final glare at Indrid as he does.

Indrid trades a sheepish look with his friend, “Oops.”

-------------------------------------------------

“I’m glad you finally get to meet Duck!” Aubrey grins over her shoulder as she and Indrid wind down the hall at the office Kepler magazine.

Founded by childhood friends, Kepler worked a combination of print and video content that saw its subscribers and revenue climb while other publications struggled to stay afloat. Aubrey was head of the video team, though she contributed content to the magazine in the form of interviews about environmental activists of color and sustainable gift guides.

Kepler has three sections: travel, science, and environmental writing. Indrid now has the honor of being one of their primary photographers. He started two weeks ago and is thoroughly enjoying his work and the company of the other staff. The only person he’s yet to meet is Duck Newton, one of the founders and main reporters, as he was off on an assignment.

Aubrey knocks, gets a friendly “come in” and ushers Indrid into the office.

Looking at him from behind the desk is The Asshole’s Boyfriend, whose face goes from open and friendly to confused, then to perturbed.

“You okay?”

“I, uh, fuck, n-ye.” Duck sighs, “remember how I told you Alex and I split after a shitty date in a coffee shop?” He points at Indrid, “this was the fella who, uh, expedited the process.”

“Ohhhh.” Aubrey frowns, then shrugs with a smile, “whelp, he’s our new photographer. We’ll see you around.” She hurries them outside once more, shutting the doors. As they head back the way they came, she whispers, “his ex was a huge fucking dick, so if word gets out everyone is gonna think you’re a fucking hero.”

“He didn’t seem to see it that way.”

“It was only a few weeks ago, so it’s still pretty fresh. He’ll heal from it okay, Duck’s a tough cookie. And I’m sure you guys’ll get along eventually.”

---------------------------------------

“Juno, please, you gotta come with me.”

“I would bud, except it’s April and I’s fifth wedding anniversary that weekend. And no, we already have plans, so we can’t just take over this assignment as part of the celebration.”

“Fuck” Duck leans back in his chair.

“...You really asked everyone?”

“Ye-no, fuck-”

“Duck.”

“I ain’t asked Indrid yet.”

“There it is.” Juno smirks, “you gotta ask; besides, we were gonna have him do illustrations for the feature, but photos would be even better. And we both know it ain’t his fault y’all broke up.”

Duck nods, promises to ask Indrid after lunch. He finds the photographer flipping through his files from his shoot for next issues cover. His silver hair is pulled back, red glasses sitting on the desk beside him so he can gauge color correctly.

Duck kind of wants to pull the silver locks just to see what happens. It’s not his fault Indrid looks like his Sophomore roommate who he had a raging crush on, only with more tattoos and a much more captivating face. Pity he helped fuck up Duck’s last chance at a stable relationship.

“Hey, Indrid, you got a minute?”

The photographer cocks his head.

“I, uh, so we got a feature on this whole chunk of places touting themselves as ‘sustainable romantic getaways. I booked a bunch of places, but a lot of ‘em will turn me away if I turn up solo. And the person I was supposed to go with ain’t an option any more. Neither is anyone else. You get my drift?”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “you realize this is a terrible idea, yes?”

“Hey, we been workin together just fine. Ain’t we? Wait, fuck, I ain’t been treatin you bad even when I’m tryin to be professional, am I?”

“No, you’ve been perfectly polite. But there’s a world of difference between being cordial in an office and going on what’s functionally a vacation together.”

Duck crosses his arms, “I ain’t about to lose eight hundred bucks in deposits.”

Indrid blinks, then chuckles, “Fair. What day do we leave?”

-------------------------------------------------

The temperature rises and the air dries as they speed south on Five. Indrid fiddles with games on his phone as cover for the list of “will this be a disaster or not” he’s mentally constructing. So far the signs are positive; Duck isn’t very chatty, but neither is Indrid. They have similar tastes in music, which makes much more sense when Duck explains he was a burn-out in high school. He also isn’t agitated by Indrid stimming, which makes it easier for the photographer to relax and enjoy the drive.

But they haven’t spoken about the elephant in the car, and Indrid resolves not to be the first to do so. No point in poking the sore spot if he doesn’t have to.

They stop at a Sinclair for gas. Duck reaches into his glovebox for something as Indrid climbs out, comes away with a photo instead. It’s one of those ones from a photobooth, faded but unmistakably him and his ex. His face falls for a second and Indrid scurries into the Dairy Queen attached to the convenience store.

As he waits in line, he turns one fact over in his mind like a picture he’s trying to make sense of; it would be easier to let their awkward first meeting go if he did not genuinely like the other man. He’s charming, in a quiet way, and very friendly. He’s built like the guys Indrid always got useless crushes on in college, usually third tier frat boys or--if he was lucky--a bear a few years older than him who liked his men on the odd side.

He doesn’t like seeing Duck sad. The sadness isn’t something he can fix. The stalemate between these two facts annoy the living hell out of him.

He’s next in line, glances up to confirm what he wants, and gets an idea. Last week, he overheard Duck talking with Aubrey about roadtrip snacks of their youth.

“One chocolate dipped cone, on me.” He holds the treat out to the other man.

“Oh. Uh, thanks. These are my favorite from when I was a kid.” Duck’s smile returns.

“I remembered. Or, ah, that is, I remembered you saying that.”

The smile changes, “you didn’t need to.”

“I wanted to. Shall we?”

“Yep. Uh, you gonna be able to drive and eat that at the same time?”

“Do not doubt my ability to consume ice cream under difficult circumstances, Duck Newton.”

They make it to their first stop unscathed. It’s what Duck refers to as, “eco-bespoke,” a fancy spa and hotel built in a former school, the kind that was made in an era of beautiful instead of grim educational architecture.

“Goats!” Indrid claps his hands, delighted, at the two animals stabled near the main building. One of it’s supposed sustainable elements is the small farm that helps feed the on-site restaurant. Duck smirks and Indrid suddenly feels the gulf in their upbringings, “Ah, I suppose they’re not exciting to someone who grew up in a rural town.”

“Nah, but they’re damn cute.” Duck checks the tag on their room keys, “okay, we’re in the green building, room 2B.”

Indrid snaps some photos as they cross the grounds, more to remind himself of things he wants to come back to later than anything else. He’s busy studying a strange mark on the wall by their door when Duck says, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Why--oh” he stares at the single bed, “in retrospect, we should have seen this coming.”

“Yeah.” Duck drops his bag near the closet, slides the door to look for spare linens. Indrid summons his courage, finds it lacking, and so bolsters it with nonchalance.

“It’s a king, we could easily share.”

“You’d, uh, you’d be okay with that?”

“It is only narrow definitions of masculinity that mean something like sharing a bed is inherently sexual.”

He’s not entirely sure that made sense, but Duck nods, “You want the right side or left?”

“Right, please.”

“Great. And, uh, Indrid? Thanks for rollin with all this. I, uh, I know it’s fuckin weird but this is a huge feature for the magazine and we woulda been fucked if we had to pull it.”

Indrid gingerly sits on his side of the bed, “You’re welcome. And I don;t know about you, but” he smiles, catches Duck watching him intently in the mirror, “I’m enjoying myself so far.”

------------------------------------------------------

“Why has an activity that renders one incapable of using their thighs been deemed ‘romantic?” Indrid mumbles, face-down on the bed to offer his burning legs relief.

“Fuck if I know.” Duck groans as he sits next to him, “Kinda fun, but if I was doin this to get you in bed, I’d be fucked.”

“I am in bed” Indrid teases.

“And if I tried to put the moves of you you’d toss me outta it. Assumin I could even move myself that close.” Duck nudges him, then clears his throat, “uh, I mean, not like we’d be doin that-”

“Nono, point taken.” Indrid rolls over. The horseback ride was one of the “couples exclusives;” a trot out to a beautiful oasis for a gourmet picnic. Indrid got some excellent shots, including one of Duck with honeycomb dripping down his chin, which he will not be offering up to editors but may keep for himself. For it’s beautiful composition, of course.

Mercifully, their next stop is the pool. Indrid settles himself in the hot tub while Duck types some notes on his phone. Then his friend doffs his bathrobe and Indrid may as well be in a dream. In the steaming, echoing paradise of multi-colored tile and ecstatic shouts, Duck stands like one of the angelic fountains at its heart has come to life.

“You okay there, ‘Drid?”

“Yes.” He hopes his lack of glasses means Duck will mistake his blatant staring for trying to get his vision in focus.

“Then scoot your cu--uh, your butt over so I can sit down.”

Indrid gladly moves aside, finds he’s so comfortable with Duck pressed against him that he begins nodding off in the warm lull of the water. When the other man nudges him, saying it’s time to go, he finds a strong arm draped over his shoulder and Duck’s smile the most relaxed it’s been all trip.

Their last task at this location is to locate the speakeasy somewhere on the premises and order the “lovers delight” (only available to couples). To do so, they follow clues purple light bulbs, doors that lead to tiny, art-filled rooms, secret staircases, and a false supply closet to a dark wooded, dimly lit, incredibly pleasant bar looking out over the property. The drink turns out to be a massive goblet (more a bowl that someone stuck on a stem) of ginger syrup, prickly pear juice, and silver tequila.

It also turns out to be incredibly strong. So much so that when they get back to the room, Indrid loses his balance getting his shoes off, which makes Duck laugh, which results in both of them flopping onto the bed.

“S’fun. You’re, you’re real good at the clues. Should, should go to an escape room when we get home.”

“Wasn’t, hic, that hard. They, they want, hic, want you to find it.”

“Take the compliment, goofus” Duck pushes his shoulder.

“You’re, hic, the goofus.”

“Nuh uh.” Duck sticks his tongue out. Indrid does the same, then licks his cheek just to hear him laugh.

Duck rolls onto his back, giggles dying down to a contemplative sigh, “He woulda hated this.”

“Your ex?” Indrid crawls to stay close to him.

“Yeah. Everythin I like, or, or thought was fun, he thought it was a waste of time or just plain worthless. He, he wasn’t like that at the start. Dunno what changed. Probably me. Probably got borin. Got worse.”

Indrid is not so drunk that he believes he can fix this. But he’s just drunk enough to stroke Duck’s cheek and murmur, “No. Nono, hic, you’re th’best.”

He doesn’t remember falling asleep after that, but he must have, because his phone is beeping at them to get up and face the day. They do so with to-go coffees in one hand and their bags in the other, neither speaking of the night before until Indrid has turned the car into deeper desert.

“Sorry for gettin on a thing about Alex last night.”

“It was a three year relationship; goodness knows you’re allowed to have feelings about it.”

“Even relief?”

Indrid glances at him, “Of course.”

His friend leans back in his seat, sipping from his travel mug, “That’s half the reason I been in such a funk. I feel like I oughta be sad, then I feel guilty for the fact I’m relieved instead. But if I really was that unhappy in it, why did I hang around so long? Maybe that was the best I deserved, y’know?”

“I know the feeling, yes, but I can’t say I agree with your statement. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are and adores it, not someone who loved what you once were and became bitter when you grew.”

Duck looks at the console between them, at Indrid’s chipped black nails and the hand he hopes isn’t shaking. He squeezes it a moment longer than necessary, “Thanks, ‘Drid. It’s nice to hear that from someone who’s still gettin to know me. Juno and them, they’re my friends, I know they’re in my corner but, uh, sometimes I worry that anyone new is gonna find me dull or somethin like that.”

“I’m sure some people would, just as some take one look at me and decide I’m a weirdo who they don’t want to deal with. But I can say with certainty that I don’t find you that way.”

Duck grins all the way to their destination. It’s a quirky trailer park full of amenities and built mostly from salvaged materials, doing it’s best to run off the grid. It also gives each trailer a theme, and Indrid flaps his hands when he sees they’ve been booked in the “The Cramps” themed one.

“Hell yeah.” Duck mirrors his excitement as they open the door. Their haven from the desert sun is full of kitschy horror artifacts and a much smaller bed than the previous spot. There’s no debate this time; Indrid settles on the right, Duck on the left, and they settle in for a nap before venturing out to work.

They take in the bar, the arcade, the mini-golf course, and the “couples supply room” (“damn, didn’t know they made eggnog scented massage oil” “ooh, I like how that smells”), but Duck turns out to be most excited to rent a stargazing kit and guide Indrid out into the dark desert. They’re on their backs, shoulder to shoulder and munching chocolate covered fruit, when he discovers the source of his glee.

“There!” Duck points to a crackling streak of silver.

“A meteor” Indrid wiggles happily as a second one speeds through his view.

“It’s the Perseids, and this is a damn good place to watch ‘em. Look, there’s another one.” He’s breathless each time and Indrid’s heart threatens to beat hard enough to crack the earth at the sound.

“Did you ever wish on stars when you were little?”

“Yep. Never asked for much worth notin, though I’m pretty sure I wished once to just wake up and be a boy. Or, uh, guess for everyone to see me as one. What about you?”

“I wished...I wished for someone to do things like this with, some who’d kiss me and tell me that they didn’t need to wish because what they wanted was right here.. I love the world, I want to see so much of it, that’s half the reason I chose my profession.. But when I was young I thought I’d be with someone when I did. I thought it was easy to find that kind of love. To be worthy of it.”

“Hey now” Duck rolls onto his side. He’s backlit by the moon, meteors zipping behind him as if they, just like Indrid, are pulled to him, “what happened to all the stuff you said in the car about deservin someone who adores you?”

“It’s easy to apply such things to you, harder to believe them about myself.”

“How come?”

“Because you are everything a sensible person could want in a man and I am not.”

“That’s where you’re wrong” He sets a hand next to Indrid’s shoulder, “Can think of at least one sensible fella who wants to get to know you a whole hell of a lot.”

“He’ll get to know me plenty, we’re co-workers.”

“There are different kinds of gettin to know someone.” Duck dips down, brushes their noses together, “for instance, the last few days I’ve gotten to know you’re a damn good travel companion and that Ned was smart to hire you. But I’ve also gotten to know there’s some things about you I really wanna know.”

“Such as?” Indrid’s fingers find Duck’s sides.

“Such as whether you wanna go on a date with me when we get back. No assignment, just the two of us gettin some time together.”

“I want nothing more.” He leans up to kiss him, feels him shudder happily when their lips meet. Indrid wonders how long it’s been since someone kissed Duck like they meant it, and resolves to make up any deficits with an enthusiasm that would put horny eighteen year olds to shame.

Indrid nips Ducks ear, “you know, were it not for the threat of mosquitos and scorpions, I’d suggest we make good use of the non-food items in that basket.”

Ducks grin lights Indrid up like a comet, “Then howsabout we go test just how conducive our trailer is to romance?”

Indrid kisses him adoringly, “Lead on, sweetheart; I’ll follow you anywhere.”

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #meet ugy

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mooshs-crack-headcanons · 4 years

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Hi moosh! Could I have sfw letters APW for dante, vergil, nero, and V? Thank you!

So this is my first piece for devil may cry, I hope it turned out well I'm still ify on it, especially with V's and a part of Vergil but I hope you guys like it anyway!

Dante

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Dante is a pretty chill guy, but he really doesn’t get out that much besides to go do a job, out to get drinks and to gamble (losing most of his last payment from Morrison in the process and getting absolutely screamed at by both you and Lady) at the local bar, and to get a Strawberry Sundae at Fredi’s, most of these activities he loves for you to tag along with him (some partially to make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble *cough cough* like losing most of his fucking money *cough*) especially hunting if you can hold yourself in a fight, he gets a kick out of watching you kick demon ass and finds it really hot so expect a lot of flirty banter that’s filled with terrible puns and other dorky eye rolling one liners. This lovable fucking dork.

However most of your time spent together is in the office, which you can find the two of you laying on the couch watching the old busted television watching old movies or listening to the old busted jukebox that has been playing the same sixteen songs for the last thirty years (Dante stop abusing your shit) or just telling each other shitty stories the both of you have heard from one another countless of times, but somehow when he tells it again it somehow feels just as enjoyable as the first with somehow a different twist to it and when you tell it he always that charismatic talent that Dante just has this big heart throbbing grin on his face as he listens and it just makes your words sometimes stop that even he has to tell you to keep going, or just cooking together (and by together, I mean you doing 99% of the work because this man is forever banned anywhere near a oven anymore) because yeah sure pizzas 24/7 is fun and all but if there’s one thing (besides watching you kick demon ass) that he loves to watch you do it’s cooking and not only does he get to watch you excitedly dash from one part of the kitchen looking for ingredients and get a little messy along the way, he also gets something to eat out of it too in the end.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Embarrassment to show his absolute adoration for you in public? No way! Dante is all about that PDA, unless you’re uncomfortable with it then he’ll respectfully lay off...but sometimes he finds it really hard when you’re just super cute when talking to the crew about a job, it's just something about that look of thrill in your eye that always grabs his attention. But if you’re down with it, let the lap sitting, quick heated kisses, bad suggestive pick up lines, and questionable touches commence!

Dante is the number one choice for a feel better boost, if you’re feeling unsure and doubtful of your abilities be prepared to see this man recite everything fucking cool, smart, and badass thing he’s ever seen you do, so it’s a given Dante absolutely loves bragging about you to people. As he’s sharing tales of your badassery, there’s a glint of pure love in his eyes as he looks back to you and watches as your doubts begin to slowly fade away to the back of your mind, and of course if this is a recurring issue you might find even the rest of giving you compliments from time to time, even from Vergil (which almost gave you a heart attack from the shock hearing that from the eldest son of Sparda)

Kisses from Dante are never shy, when he wants to show affection to you he’s never shy about it. Kisses from him are always the type that shoots butterflies to your stomach and makes you feel dizzy afterwards, his favorite to pull over you are when you’re in the middle of working on paperwork (his fucking bills) and surprising you with them because always without fail you get drag away from your work and go to cuddle on the couch, bills to be forgotten (and he wonders why his electric shuts off all the time) The crew immediately learns quickly that Dante really doesn’t have any shame, but reactions vary when they stumble upon it with Trish and Morrison are the two not to really give a shit to be bothered by it, Lady, Vergil, and Nero just roll their eyes at it before going back to do their own thing, Nico lets the: “get a room love birds” and other types of teasing lines and whistles fly every chance she gets, Lucia either embarrassed and covering her eyes or scolding the both of you for being that ‘personal’ out in the open like that, and Patty asks really uncomfortable questions. Dante for the most part gets a kick out of all of it!

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

I think it's very clear that he mimics actions he sees in movies (just look at how he fucking uses Cerberus for example) and so lots of what he does romantically is stuff he's seen in romance films he remembers watching with his mother and brother when he was younger or films that when he really has nothing better to do and Patty brings (all with titles he can never pronounce) to the office on a lazy afternoon and that's the reason why his view of romance is so cliche. When asked jokingly about it, he'll give a shrug and answer with the fact that the love between his parents, forbidden lovers, is a cliche trope itself and from the very few memories he has of his mother and father together he definitely remembers how sappy they were together, so sappy that it might've carried over into their kids (Vergil you don't escape this, just you wait)

So that being said, with the heart shaped chocolates, the roses to start every date with, several dates under candle light on the roof of the shop under a full moon, no matter how cliche it may be the confident wide eye grin on his face during them will never fail to make your heart skip a beat.

Vergil

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Vergil of course really likes to take every opportunity to train whenever he can so that he can be sure he's able protect those he cares for, so he really likes when you take the time to spare with him so not only he can stay in top shape for whatever danger that may come in the future but also so that you can do the same that he doesn't feel like it's all up to him to protect you when he is assured you can protect yourself, this keeps his mind from wandering to dark power lusting places.

On free days that there's no jobs in sight and there's not a focus on training, Vergil of course likes to read in his book. Flipping through the pages of his old precious childhood possession he feels himself at ease and even more so if the two of you are laid up together in bed in the privacy of your shared room, your head laid softly on his chest with his hand in your hair subconsciously combing through it as he reads Blake's words aloud to you in a quiet voice as if the words were only meant for you to hear.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Listen, all the Sparda men are romantic in their own way to the core, I like to think it’s in their genes and this is Vergil we’re talking about, this man is an absolute traditional romantic with absolutely no PDA. I mean come on, again this is Vergil we're talking about this is to be expected the son of Sparda prefers to keep his romantic life absolutely private between the two of you. To be honest it takes only the closest people in the two of your lives to realize that the two of you are even together, so basically only those who are at Devil May Cry frequently. The tale tell is that out of everyone you end up being on the end of Vergil's...Vergilness the least bit, sure there are moments but at least you haven't been stabbed by Yamato or had any summoned swords shot at you like everyone in the office has been at least once (although this also applies to Kyrie but I see her never really doing anything that would really bother him) and he also gives to rare non sarcastic compliments, which blows Dante's mind every time it occurs.

Vergil doesn't brag about you, he compliments, and true hearted compliments from Vergil are rare, but when they happen you always know he 100% means it especially if he does it in front of others. This is the only form of PDA he feels comfortable with doing, and usually they're about how you did in fights or a super rare version: that he's proud of you.

Again Vergil believes all romantic acts should be savory in the privacy between each other, so it's obvious that he doesn't like kissing in public. However, if you were to hypothetically I don't know...give him a peck on the cheek or go even more scandalous the lips while he's at phone duty in the office while Dante and the others are around the pool table and sitting area or in Nico's van while waiting to drive off with the crew to whatever next job, his cheeks might turn into a interesting shade of pink.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

It takes patience to be in a relationship with Vergil, in the beginning he'll be closed off and won't share what he's thinking (but it says a lot with how much he does trust and care for you to be in a commitment with you) but as time goes on he'll slowly start to open up more and more as he lets himself accept the human in him to love you, and at this point he'll start to share things that are very close and dear to him.

He has very fond memories of watching old black and white romance films with his mother and Dante, who only would watch them because the moment they would end he would immediately beg him to train with him, but with him falling down to hell and being corrupted since he was only nineteen to him he remembers memories of when he and Dante were kids more clearly than his brother can since to him they don't feel as they happened a long ago so he remembers watching these films from long ago in very great detail. So of course the moment he can find some of these films with the help from a hesitant Nero (still getting used to the whole dad ripping arm off thing and all) to find and order those they could find online. From the very moment he has the old tapes in his hands do they become as precious as you, Yamato, his amulet, and his book (as well as a little bit of Nero but it takes him a while to come to terms with it) so with this being something very emotionally important to him, and after very long pandering about it, he asks you to watch these films with him (he also considered asking Dante but figured since he didn't practically like the these films as children that he wouldn't want to to watch them now, absolutely no idea about the cliched dork he is now because of these types of films) The entire time you find yourself struggling to pay attention to the actual film instead you find yourself drawn to the deep nostalgic look in your lover's eyes as he's glued to the screen. For a while you're not even sure if he's actually watching the black and white picture either with how he eyes seem to be playing out scenes of the past and this is the first time you've ever seen this much emotion on his face at once. You end up holding a tight securing grip on his hand throughout the rest of the film, one normally he wouldn't hold for as long but you find his fingers subconsciously rubbing against yours from time to time. Once the nostalgic movie night ends the two of you don't say much to each other, which Vergil appreciates since how much emotional significance that it had on him and with the feeling that he's glad he got to spend it with you.

Nero

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

He likes killing demons with you, it's in his blood. Just seeing you in action will without fail boost confidence in him and makes him want to show off for you, which ends with him getting hurt and scolded by you many times but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Well, he really finds himself doing a lot doing jobs with Nico on the road as of late so except a lot of quality time together on jobs and in the van. When the two of you aren't out kicking demon ass expect a ton of sitting around in the van watching whatever happens to come in on Nico's very small and very shitty portable tv, this is when you learn your boyfriend has actually a lot of a surprising amount of trivia on shows that hadn't been in production in decades but are shown as frequent reruns on low quality channels that coincidently air in Fortuna's limited broadcast range.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

I feel like during the time around dmc 4, Nero at that point was absolutely super embarrassed with the idea of PDA, not even getting started with his insecurities about his arm, but I feel about now after his experience with dating Kyrie for a few years he gotten use to it a little bit. However that doesn't mean he won't get entirely red faced by teasing comments from Dante or Nico even if he was just looking at you for a few seconds longer than he should've.

Fuck yeah he brags about you to others. You're a badass, and he absolutely loves that. During a fight he'll gladly give you a cocky Nero way of approval by saying that even he should try and catch up before flashing you a smug ass grin before revving up Red Queen and jumping into the next hoard of demons.

Again Nero gets embarrassed easily, however unlike his father he's not totally against it but it depends on whose exactly around. For example if it's Lady or Trish, hell even Morrison he's perfectly comfortable with giving you a kiss hello/goodbye or wrapping his arms around you just for the hell of it because he knows that they're chill and won't make a big deal out of it. But if it's anyone else...he feels not so much about it. Dante and Nico tease the hell out of him for days, Patty asks very uncomfortable person questions, Lucia gets really easily flustered about it, and Vergil and Kyrie for personal reasons would just rather not prefer to do anything around them. But every time you are the one to initiate any sort of affection, he'll immediately rub/scratch at his nose with a very dumb founded flustered look on his face.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Nero is actually a good cook and absolutely loves cooking things for you and that is usually what happens for most dates, no matter how complicated the recipe he just seems to have a natural talent for it. So when it comes not only dates but to holidays as well, it's really funny to see the youngest relative of Sparda cooking away to serve the rest of the company on Christmas day when everyone knows damn well that neither his father or uncle has any clue how to work a kitchen and this is a fact that he holds proudly over his head.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Well being Vergil's human half, I still say most things still somewhat apply to him but a little bit differently. V's not really the best partner to spar with for starters (the most I see him doing is letting you train with his familiars) but I feel that he still completely understands the reason why Vergil would desperately want that, but he has a little bit more in himself to have faith in you to know you can more than able to handle yourself with your abilities.

Like with Vergil, V absolutely loves to read with you. It puts a nice warm feeling in his chest when the two of you are alone and with you in his arms as he reads to you as you both sit against Shadow and Griffon nesting nicely in your lap, all together like a nice small family.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

V, unlike Vergil, is torn between PDA. Like Vergil, he really does appreciate the privacy of time spent together behind closed doors but also he really does like the feeling of people seeing the two of you together as a couple, it brings out a heavy sense of pride and stroking his ego.

V doesn't feel need to brag, he's proud of you and if you're with him you should know that by now, but if you're in need of some encouragement he always knows what right thing he's proud of you to pick you tight back up again.

Kisses from V are never shy, will he do it often in front of others? Occasionally, but never frequent. When he does though they're always sudden and full of spark, you swear his lips are like an instant kill switch to your brain because once you realize that he's kissed you it's already hit you and most of the time you hear whistles and teases from Griffon (and sometimes Nico if she's around) that bring you back earth to (Name).

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Vergil's nightmares plague him a lot, I mean he's literally contracted to them. So expect a lot of countless of nights of him waking up in cold sweat and doing his best to keep his sobs down as the image of Nelo Angelo is burnt into his mind. He would rather not talk about it, but he really does appreciate feeling you holding him through the after shocks. Tracing his tattoos or gently combing your fingers through his hair will slowly calm him down enough to at least lay back down with you and hesitantly fall back asleep knowing you're there to fight off the plagues of his mind at a moments notice.

#devil may cry #devil may cry x reader #dante x reader #vergil x reader #nero x reader #v x reader #dante sparda #vergil sparda #nero sparda #v dmc #mine

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call-signvalkyrie · 3 years

Text

Ignite the Spark pt. 1

So I quit my shitty job today. Yay me! With the extra time I had today, I got a chance to finish the first chapter of a Poe Dameron series I’ve been working on. Let me know what you guys think!

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Summary: After years of undercover work for the Resistance, the daughter of Luke Skywalker has returned. Arriving on Ajan Kloss to a warm greeting from General Leia Organa, the Reader is given a gift and has their first meeting with everyone’s favorite pilot.

Pairings: Poe Dameron x Skywalker!Reader

Tags: talks of the Force, a few flashbacks, Poe being embarrassed lol

Word Count: around 3k

When your transport landed on Ajan Kloss, you weren’t sure you would be cut out for this. You’d spend so much time on backwater planets, filtering information to the resistance and doing your best to go unnoticed. You were so used to not interacting with anyone that the thought of being around so many people on a bustling base was a bit scary. All feelings of reservation were swept away, however, when the door of the transport opened to reveal the face of an older woman. Her hair was different since the last time you had seen her. Her face was aged from the many years of fighting the good fight for the rebellion. Her eyes, however, had not changed a day. They gleamed and twinkled in the dying twilight. Her smile made them sparkle even brighter as she reached out toward you.

“Aunt Leia,” you stepped off the transport and into her open arms. “It’s been too long.”

“Yes, it has. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have kept you away.” She smiled lovingly, taking your face in both hands.

“I brought the data you asked for. I’ve got it all here.” You said, pulling a flash drive from your jacket pocket.

“That’s wonderful, Stardust.” You beamed with pride at the mention of your childhood nickname. “Lt. Connix, will you please take this data to the command center. Start running a detail immediately.”

“Yes, General.” Lt. Connix took the flash drive and was gone before you could blink.

“Beaux, see to it that Lt. Skywalker’s bags are placed in her quarters, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Beaux gave you a quick wave before stepping onto the transport and out of sight.

“Now, Y/N, I want to give you a quick tour before you settle in. I’m sure you’re exhausted but I want you to be as familiar as possible with everything on this base. This is your home now. No more field missions, I need you with me.” Leia smiled again, taking your arm and leading you toward the left wing of the base and toward the living quarters.

Home. Leia was the only thing you had left. Wherever she was, that’s where your home would be.

After showing you where your quarters would be located as well as the mess hall, med bay, and a quick tour of the Command Center, you were ready to get settled in for the night.

“Well, Y/N, if you need anything tonight, my quarters are right down the hall. You should have a data pad on your desk all charged and ready to go. It’ll have your clearance codes as well as any information you’ll need to know while on base. I’ll need you with me in the morning to debrief that data. It should be downloaded and ready so make sure to give it a look over before the morning.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You said, smiling softly at the older woman.

“Goodnight, Stardust.” Leia gave a quick wave before walking out the door.

Turning on your heal, you took a quick second to familiarize yourself with your new home. Being the niece of the general had its perks. Your quarters were small, yes but they were cozy. A small bookshelf and dresser were along the wall to your left, a double bed and desk and chair to your right. The data pad Leia had mentioned was right where she said it would be, all charged and ready to go from the looks of it. Straight ahead was your own private refresher. After unpacking your duffle of clothes, along with your rucksack containing a few personal mementos, you decided to take a quick shower before bed. You could wake up early and review that data for Leia. It wasn’t like you hadn’t spent the last 5 years gathering every piece of intel you could on the First Order.

Grabbing a fresh pair of underwear, a grey tank and a pair of sleep shorts from your dresser, you stepped into the refresher. Ten minutes later you were scrubbed clean and feeling surprisingly relaxed. It was amazing what a proper shower could do. Opening the door and stepping into your room, you turned to hang your towel on the desk chair when you spotted something you hadn't noticed earlier. On the desk were two boxes accompanied by an envelope. Scrawled across the front in a familiar script was the word “Stardust”. Opening the envelope, you began to read:

Y/N,

For far too long I have kept you in the dark and for that I will always be in your debt. Please accept these as tokens of my sincerest apologies. I hope at least one of these will help light your way. I understand if you’re conflicted but I have hope that one day you will be able to continue your training. Your fathers only wish in life was to see you follow his footsteps. Maybe we can fix that now.

All My Love,

Leia

Setting the letter to the side, you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. Picking up the smaller of the two boxes, you opened it to reveal a small jewelry box. Lifting the lid, you gasped allowed. Nestled on a small black pillow was a beautifully woven silver chain. Placed ever so delicately in the middle of the pillow was a pendant. Pulling the chain from the box, you let it dangle in front of you in the soft light.

You never thought you would see this necklace again. Your father had given it to you when you left the Jedi temple to be with your aunt Leia all those years ago. When the temple fell and Kylo Ren rose to power, your necklace went missing in the night. That was almost 8 years ago now. Yet, here it was right in your hands like it was never gone. You ran the compass shaped pendant through your fingers, letting the wave of sadness and nostalgia run over you. On one side, a golden crescent moon surrounded by three silver stars embellished the surface. Turning it over, there was an engraving: Stardust.

You gingerly pulled the chain around your neck and adjusted it to size. That’s why you had always loved this necklace.

“It will grow with you, Stardust.”

Sniffling, you took a look at the other package. Thinking back to the note, you already knew what it was. How Leia had found it, you would never know but would be forever grateful. This box was longer, over a foot in length. The box was made of a soft wood that smelled faintly of burned embers. It had no exterior markings and no obvious way of exposing its contents. Slowly, you lowered the box to the floor. Taking a seat in front of it, closed your eyes. Reaching out with your mind, you felt it: The Force.

“The Force is all around you, Y/N. Reach out with your feelings and let it flow through you.”

“Okay, dad.”

“Ahem.”

“I mean: Yes, Master.”

The box gave no notice it had even opened. If some random onlooker happened to be watching, they would be none the wiser. You knew, however, the moment it happened. Lifting the lid, your breath caught in your throat. The inside of the box was lined with a soft, deep blue velvet pillow the color of the night sky. On top of the pillow, an emblem was stitched into the fabric. A shooting star wrapped in what looked like wings. Atop this pillow was a smooth cylindrical object, covered in beautiful ancient markings. It had a slightly curved handle for better grip for your smaller hands. You always favored nature and practicality over dominance and your build had reflected that.

“You must gather your crystals quickly, younglings. The cave is only open for so long. We don’t want any of you getting stuck in here.” You could hear his soft chuckle even now.

Picking up the silver object, you ignited the switch. Your room began to buzz with the soft whir of noise from the object in your hand. Ethereal, green light radiated from the source. You disengaged the ignitor, taking the smooth metal in both hands. How could it have survived? You looked everywhere after the temple was burned and never found it. Had Leia had it all this time and was just waiting for the right time to return it? Who had taken your lightsaber?

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of frantic beeping coming from the hallway. Quickly, you slid the blade back into the box. Tucking it away under your bunk, you scrambled to the door and hit the lock. The door opened with a soft shlick and you stepped into the hallway. Another round of agitated beeps could be heard coming down the hall followed by what sounded like combat boots. Coming around the corner was a small round droid, a BB Unit by the looks of him.

“BeeBee-Ate, I’m sorry! Buddy, our room’s not even this way, where are you going?” a male voice called after the little droid.

“What do you mean you're telling Leia?! It’s the middle of the night, pal. She’s most likely asleep.”

Leaning against the door to your quarters, you began to understand the little guy. He was angry because someone named Poe left him alone with the ship. AGAIN. And got captured and made him worry. AGAIN. You gave a slight chuckle as the little guy rolled by, angry beeps the whole way. Punching your code back into your door panel, you were just about to step back in when a voice called out to you. Stepping back into the hallway, you were greeted by a Resistance pilot. He was still wearing his bright orange flight suit. His thick, curly hair stuck up in odd directions from his helmet. He gave you a soft smile and waved.

“I’m sorry for all the noise, it's been a weird day.” The pilot smiled at you apologetically. “I hope my friend didn’t wake you.”

“No, I was awake.” You smiled back, taking a step out of your room and into the hallway. “Just checking to make sure everything was alright. The General, however, won't be too happy about being disturbed.” You nodded toward the little droid, now rolling his body into your aunts' door at full force.

“Gods, BB-Ate! It’s not that serious! I -” the pilots voice stopped in his throat as the shlick of the door BB-8 was throwing himself into slid open. The little droid went flying full force into the now open quarters of General Organa. You heard a loud clang followed by a series of confused beeps and whistles from the little droid.

“Dameron, you nerf herder! Get your droid out of my room right now or so help me not even the Force will be able to save you!” the General stepped out of her quarters and into the hallway, glairing toward the man to your right. You had to cover your face to hide the smile that was creeping onto it.

“General, I am so sorry.” a deep blush began to creep up the man's neck and onto his face. “I tried to get him to calm down but he just wouldn’t! He insisted - “

“I don’t care, Dameron. Get him out of here NOW. You’re obviously alright so whatever it is can wait until morning.” Leia said, placing one hand on her hip. You hadn’t seen Leia this irritated since you were a child. You were glad that look was fixed on someone else for once.

“Yes, ma’am.” The pilot said, lowering his eyes. “C’mon BB-8. It’s time for bed.” The little droid gave what you interpreted to be a light grumble but complied, rolling out to meet his master. Turning on his heal, the pilot gave you a light nod and started off in the direction he came from.

“Y/N! Ben! Get in here.”

“I told you not to take her lightsaber!” You whispered to your cousin, jabbing him in the ribs.

“She’s my mom. I can take whatever I want from her.” Ben smirked at you and you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever, Bantha-breath! I’m gonna tell her you said that!” You skipped off toward your aunt's voice, Ben chasing close behind you.

“Y/N, you okay?” A hand touched your arm, bringing you back to reality.

“Yeah, Aunt Leia, sorry. I think I’m just tired.” You yawned, covering your mouth lightly. “Hey, who was that guy?”

“Oh, that’s Poe. Poe Dameron. He’s a pilot, leader of Black Squadron.” Leia said, exasperation in her voice.

“Like, THE Poe Dameron? Wow.” You laughed lightly, shaking your head.

“He’s a good guy, just has his head in his cockpit most of the time instead of down on solid ground.” Leia said, shaking her head with a smile.

“No, it’s not that. I just thought he’d be taller.” You both smiled, enjoying the joke between the two of you.

“Well, between you and me, he really is the best pilot I’ve ever seen.” your aunt gave you a little wink before turning to go back into her own room.

“Even better than...” but you stopped yourself, letting the thought trail on.

“Almost. Maybe.” you could hear the smile in her answer as the door to her room shut behind her.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron x skywalker #star wars #reader insert #star wars fanfiction #fanfic

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reachgirl · 3 years

Text

So..

Maddie had to basically raise and care for her brother when she was pretty young (from what we can gather), she was in an abusive relationship where her husband cut her off from family and friends, then when she finally managed to leave him he came back to stalk and kidnap her and stab her boyfriend, and she had to kill him. Then she was held hostage at the call center.

Buck had a difficult childhood (I think we’re safe to assume this much), then his sister left and it was obviously a big deal to him - and when she found him again she was almost killed by her abusive ex, he almost drowned and almost lost his friend’s son in a tsunami, had his leg crushed by a fire truck, had a pulmonary embolism, lost his job and his friends, his girlfriend left him because she couldn’t deal with the job, his other ex girlfriend used him as an emotional support crutch and then abandoned him without even giving him a clean break, his psychologist used her position of trust so she could sleep with him. Oh and his best friend / guy he’s clearly in love with was almost buried alive and.. it was never addressed again.

Athena’s fiancé was killed, she was almost killed by a serial killer, and her daughter almost killed herself, then she was kidnapped and almost killed again.

Bobby’s wife and children died tragically in a fire that he blames himself for.

Chim had an abusive dad, a mom who died when he was a teenager, he was bullied, his best friend sacrificed himself on a call and Chim was there to see it all, then he had a traumatic brain injury after a near-fatal car accident and his girlfriend left him right after, oh and he was catfished and stabbed by his girlfriend’s abusive ex-husband who then kidnapped her, and then she was kidnapped again at her place of work!

Eddie’s helicopter was shot down and his friend died, his son had to have multiple operations while he was away, his parents tried to take his son away from him, then his wife left him, twice, and then died in his arms. Then he was almost buried alive.

Hen was bullied, her relationship with her ex put her child’s safety in jeopardy, and she inadvertently caused a young girl’s death, oh and she almost died in the earthquake.

And most of the issues I listed don’t even include the stuff that happens to them on a day-to-day basis. Or any of the stuff that happened to Michael, Josh, Karen, Chris, May or Harry.

Now obviously, you could do a show that actually dives into the trauma of emergency responders, but that would be a very different tone. There’s always the question of how realistic can these shows really be in 45 minutes and still give us these crazy rescue scenarios (Tsunami?? Mudslide? Plane Crash? Check) AND emotional development each episode. Realistically, the 118 wouldn’t be the ones - or at least not the only ones - called in to save people on a failed water landing / plane crash in the ocean. Their area of operation wouldn’t span from the coastline doing abseiling rescues to trying to run down a hot air balloon to bank robberies to train crashes in the middle of nowhere.

So we also can’t expect them to be completely faithful to actual trauma psychology, because that would most probably make for boring TV, but even if it didn’t, it just COULDN’T be the show we love so much. They do give it some space, like showing Christopher dealing with nightmares, acknowledging the slower pacing of Madney’s relationship because of her past experiences, Bobby’s unwillingness to forgive himself, Eddie’s anger management issues and poor coping skills in general, Buck not giving himself time to heal properly because of his need to be defined by helping people so he can feel ‘worthy’, and some characters even get to go and see a psychologist - with mixed results, that also aren’t properly followed up on, and when Eddie says he didn’t click with the psychologist that’s seemingly also the end of him dealing with his anger issues. A lot of the time, the show acknowledges mental wellbeing once, and then drops it completely - like Buck’s abandonment issues being dealt with only as a set up for Abby to come back. Lone Star does a little better with Judd’s trauma from his entire team dying in front of him, and his survivor’s guilt, and how that affects his relationship.

BUT season 3 of 911 actually laid some good ground work with Eddie Begins, with Athena unsure of whether she will get back to work, with Hen considering changing careers, and Maddie and Chim’s relationship playing out the way it did. I really hope that a lot of the events in season 4 - the baby and the anxiety that comes with that (especially if you have shitty parents), May starting work as a 9-1-1 operator, Eddie and Buck going to Texas, Buck Begins, will circle back to some of these traumatic experiences and give them more room to breathe along with the new stuff that will inevitably come up. I mean we already know there’s going to be a freaking mudslide and LAVA and wildfires, so.

Maybe one of the reasons we love fanfiction is because it gives you room to explore a facet of the characters or their lives that isn’t given much room in the canon, maybe because it doesn’t fit the tone of the show or the writers are focusing somewhere else. I think it’s also the reason why buddie is so popular while actual canon ships are less so - it’s the same in a lot of fandoms. You’ll always have more fanfiction about the stuff you don’t get to explore on screen - the other relationships you already get to see played out, so it doesn’t feel as necessary to write about. So in fanfiction, we can give the characters space to breathe and deal with everything, and we can be realistic in how a new emergency doesn’t erase the trauma of past experiences, and how LONG it would actually take to deal with some of these issues in real life. There are SO many fanfiction out there in the 9-1-1 AO3 tag that do this so well, and that have a really good handle on how these characters would or could still be affected by this stuff, whether it’s panic attacks or nightmares or unhealthy coping mechanisms or emotional hang ups like guilt and feelings of inadequacy.(I think this is the reason why I tend to not like fanfiction that puts a heavy emphasis on headcanon for more trauma like kidnappings or abuse or childood trauma. There’s already so much stuff we have seen in the show, and in the hints we get about Buck’s childhood for example, I don’t need insult added to injury so to speak. But to each their own, obviously.) And I think that’s really cool and something we should talk about and seek out and write about, because it’s a huge reason why we care about these characters so much. And we should also continue to hold the show to a standard of not erasing the trauma, and give it space even when we’re realistic about how much space it can have in the kind of show 9-1-1 is.

So I guess that’s a long way of saying I’m excited it seems that season 4 will focus a lot more in depth on character and dealing with all the stuff I listed above. And I can’t wait to see where Buck’s abandonment issues come from, or how Eddie and Buck could bond over having shitty parents.

#911 #911 on fox #eddie diaz #evan buckley #maddie buckley #buckley siblings #chimney han #hen wilson #athena grant #bobby nash #911 season 4 #911 season 3 #911 season 2 #911 season 1 #9-1-1 #buddie

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thominho-incorrectquotes · 3 years

Text

Can’t you hear me screaming?

This is my entry for Thominho Week 2021, Day 3 “ Fake dating ”

Characters: Thomas x Minho

2933 words

Tags: Modern Au, College Au, Fake Dating, Childhood friends, Friends to lovers, mention of harrasment and bullying, Fluff and angst, demisexual Thomas, demiromantic Thomas

Summary: “Kiss me.” Those were words Minho never saw coming for Thomas’s mouth, especially not in a party celebrating their success at the track meet. Not that he was one to complain that his lifelong crush suddenly wanted to be kissed by him. But coming from Thomas, it just didn’t make any senses.

Note: This was supposed to be published yesterday, but I got busy. Hope you like it!

You can also read it on AO3 and ff.net

_____________________________

"Kiss me."

Those were words Minho never saw coming for Thomas's mouth, especially not in a party celebrating their success at the track meet. Not that he was one to complain that his lifelong crush suddenly wanted to be kissed by him. But coming from Thomas, it just didn't make any senses.

"What?"

"Kiss me!" He repeated over the loud music in the background. "Please~"

"I heard the first time! It's just… why?"

Thomas looked down in shame. "It's Gally…"

The young Asian sighed. "He did it again?"

Thomas only nodded.

Of course. Ever since Gally discovered Thomas never had been in a relationship, he made his duty to find someone for his friend. Because that's what friends do, right?

But it wasn't that simple.

In their group of friends, Minho, Thomas's best friend since childhood, was the only one who knew that Thomas was demisexual and demiromantic, which meant that the young man could only develop sexual and romantic attraction to someone if he had a deep emotional bond with that person. Along with that, the boy was extremely uncomfortable with everything that has to do with romance and sex, which made Gally's attempt at finding him someone extremely unwanted and unpleasant.

However, telling the tall blond boy about Thomas's sexuality wasn't an option, at least in Thomas's mind. And Minho perfectly understood why.

Back in High School, when Thomas first discovered his sexuality, a dude named Eric overheard a conversation between the brunet and his best friend. He then proceeded to mock Thomas, saying that he wasn't a real man for having no interest in sex, suggesting to pay someone to have sex with him to "cure him", saying he was sick and needed to go to a psychiatric hospital, and other horrible things. Worst, he got the whole school into it. If some people didn't care at all, many, mostly Eric's friends, bullied Thomas to no end, pushing him, mocking him, touching him in places he didn't want to be touched… The day Minho had to save his friend from being assaulted was the day Thomas had enough and changed school. The Korean followed him to this new school where they met their actual group of friends with whom they later on went to college with.

But the experience was traumatizing enough that Thomas kept his demisexuality and demiromanticism hidden. He didn't want to face something like that ever again.

"Please~" Thomas said again. "I can take it anymore! If we pretend to be boyfriends for a while, Gally would drop it."

Minho felt a headache coming up. The alcohol he had been drinking didn't help.

"That's your solution? Fake dating?" the runner mocked. "Thomas, we're not in a shucking romance movie. People don't do that in real life. May I also add that kissing is not something you like doing?"

"It's the only solution!" Thomas argued. "I tried to tell him I wasn't interested! So many times! But he didn't listen. Just now, he introduced me to that girl - Brenda I think - and she practically threw herself at me! You know how much I hate it…"

Minho gritted his teeth in anger. Some people never learned. He pushed back memories of a younger Thomas, face wet with tears, in the school washroom, after another harassment.

"Do it for me…" Thomas pleaded once again, knowing the Korean would eventually give in.

Another sigh. "Okay…"

That was the worst decision Minho ever made. He was in for a broken heart.

Ever since he laid eyes on Thomas back in elementary school, he knew what he was feeling was special. At the time, he didn't know how to distinguish romantic and platonic feelings and sure wasn't aware that two boys could be in love since LGBTQ+ rights weren't as advanced. But he still knew that he wanted to be around that boy forever.

It's been years know, and he was falling in love with his best friend more and more each days. When Thomas told him he was demisexual and demiromantic, it had been a big hit for Minho because they were best friend, they had the strongest bond ever, and if Thomas wasn't in love with him still, he would never be. He tried to stay strong, dated few girls and guys, but nothing that lasted because he could not get over his best friend. He was the only one…

And now? Thomas wanted him to pretend to be his boyfriend?

That was life laughing at him.

"He's looking at us!" Thomas suddenly urged, looking at the sea of people, forcing Minho out of his thoughts. "Kiss me now!"

He wasn't allowed a second thought, wasn't allowed to change his mind. He quickly grabbed the brunet's hips, bringing him closer, and leaned in.

Once he touched Thomas's lips, something broke inside of him. Why did it feel so right? Why did it feel so good? From that moment on, he knew no one else could ever replace Thomas.

Minho wasn't going for a deep or passionate kiss, but to his surprise, it was the boy in his arms who put more pressure into the kiss, who moved his mouth. He guessed it was only to make this whole thing more realistic.

They parted few seconds later. Thomas was smiling.

"Thank you."

He left Minho there, going back to the party. As if he was in a shitty romance movie, sounds came back to his hears. He looked around. Nobody had apparently seen them. Except from a tall blond man.

He saw Gally coming his way and immediately felt the need to leave that party. But he was supposed to go back with Thomas, so he couldn't yet.

"Park!"

Minho felt a headache incoming.

"Would you care to explain?" Gally asked as if he had just been slapped in the face.

"Explain what?" the young man replied, annoyed.

"That!" He basically yelled, pointing at Thomas who was now talking to Newt and Alby. "Since when are you two a thing?"

Minho hesitated a moment. Should he tell the truth? But this thought was pushed back. He couldn't betray his best friend.

"Since a while, shuck-face" He replied, harshly, annoyed at everything and everyone, including Thomas who always had a way to make him do anything.

"But why did he not tell me? I wouldn't have tried to find someone for him if he did!"

That was the last straw. Minho was now furious.

"He did tell you! He told you to stop!" He shouted, not caring that some people were now staring at them. "But did you listen? No! If someone don't want a relationship or don't want to talk about theirs, you should respect that, asshole!"

He couldn't stay here any longer. Spotting his best friend, he heavily stomped towards him before taking his arms, forcing him to follow. "I've had enough, were going back home."

"But…"

"No."

Okay. He was that mad. Over the years, Minho had learned to control his hot-temper and knew when to leave before doing things he would later regret. Thomas understood that if they stayed, the Korean would probably beat the living out of Gally. So he followed, waving at Newt and Alby, before going back to the small studio apartment he was sharing with his friend.

"I'm sorry" he said on their way back, "it's all my fault."

The dark-haired boy seemed calmer, but he still pressed his temple before answering, an old habit that helped him calm down. "It's not your fault Tommy, it's Gally who's an asshole and can't get a hint."

"But I still kinda forced you to-"

"Stop that. I made my decision, okay?"

Thomas was relieved. He hated when his best friend was mad, especially at him.

"So…"

Another sigh. "Yeah, I went with your idea… I'll pretend to be your boyfriend…"

The boy almost threw himself at his friend, thanking him by a hug.

"You're the best! Thank you so much Min!"

"Yeah, but you have to do all the dishes from now on for that."

Thomas pouted, but he only got a glare back.

"Okay, okay, I'll do that. I guess it's the least I can do…"

…

The next day, they were bombarded by messages from their friends. They were freaking out, asking when everything started, why they didn't tell them and how they should totally tell the whole story. There was also Newt saying it was about time and Minho didn't know how to feel about that.

But for now, everything was a mess.

On their usual Sunday brunch with the boys, all those questions were popping off again. Minho, who was busy massaging his temples, let Thomas, who was sitting next to him, closer than usual, do all the talking. He didn't say much, only the basics, about how they just didn't feel like sharing this information yet, that they wanted to explore that new thing between them without anyone interfering.

For someone who always claimed to be uncomfortable with romance if he wasn't romantically attracted, Minho was really surprised at how at ease Thomas was talking about it. Maybe he prepared a speech?

And when the boy suddenly kissed him on the cheek, it took all his will power to not jump in surprise. Hoping no one noticed his stiffness, he took the brunet's hands in his and smiled, pretending to be a good boyfriend.

"Aww, look how cute they are~" Frypan teased.

"Yeah" Zart added with a wink. "I now understand why you guys wanted your own apartment, you must do it a lot, right?"

Oh. Minho didn't about that. Of course that now they were "dating", people would assume they're having sex. And sex was a hard topic for Thomas, even if he once told him that he really wanted to do it one day, if he ever get sexually attracted to someone. The Korean looked at his friend, worried about him, guessing he hadn't anticipated this comment too. He saw him blushing and looking down, probably embarrassed, but he didn't say anything. Minho lightly squeezed the hand he was holding, showing his support.

The conversation thankfully drifted and Minho was finally able to relax for a bit.

…

They kissed again at another party thrown by someone Minho didn't know. His friends just told him the track team was invited so he kind of felt obligated to go. And he was annoyed as hell.

So many people, some he didn't even know, commented on his "relationship" with Thomas, some dudes even saying low key homophobic shit, and some girls commenting on how "hot" it was that too attractive guy were dating.

This was hell. Of course it wasn't the first time he received those type of comments, as he has been out as bisexual for a while now, but it was just getting on his nerves and he so desperately wanted to leave this party.

Finishing the cheap beer he was drinking, he was suddenly pulled by Thomas in a secret-not-so-secret area.

"Kiss me."

"What?"

It was a repeat of last time. When Minho had agreed to this masquerade, he didn't thought he would have to kiss Thomas again. The first time had been painful enough.

"Gally doesn't believe in our relationship, he thinks it's fake…"

"And we have to kiss to prove him? Should I remind you that this whole thing is indeed fake."

"I know, but please. For me?" He seemed desperate.

Looking around, he realized that Thomas chose the perfect spot. It was intimate enough to seem like they wanted some kind of privacy, while also allowing anyone who was looking to see them.

Spotting a tall blond looking at them, he sighed.

"Okay."

And then he pinned Thomas to the wall and kissed him. At least, Gally would get a show and would maybe let his friend alone.

Ignoring the pain in his chest, ignoring the thoughts that he would never get that again, ignoring that it was all he ever wanted, he lost himself to Thomas's lips.

Going deeper, pressing their bodies together, he kissed Thomas like he always wanted too. It was passionate, filled with sparks along with a warm feeling in his guts. He never wanted it to stop.

Realizing what he was doing, he released the boy. Thomas was blushing hard and was looking everywhere, but at Minho.

Klunk. He fucked up.

He made his best friend uncomfortable, which was the least thing he wanted to do.

"U-uh, t-thanks" the brunet said before leaving Minho there, going back to the party.

Let's just say, the way back home was very awkward.

...

They acted like nothing happened. It was better that way.

However, in the eyes of their friends, they were still dating. And Minho couldn't take it anymore. They still went on with it, hugging, stealing a kiss or two, adding PDA to their already existing friendship.

And Minho felt so bad about it. It felt like taking advantage of Thomas. He hated how much he enjoyed having his "boyfriend" in his arms, how much he enjoyed kissing him, how much he enjoyed everything.

Because he knew Thomas didn't and that was the worst feeling.

So when he proposed Minho to go the party after their track meet, like tradition obliged, the young man refused.

"But… why? Gally will be there and-"

"No." Minho interrupted him. "No. I can't."

"Can't what?"

The Korean pressed his temples before answering, knowing his heart would shatter in few seconds.

"I can't do it anymore."

"Can't do what? Fake date me?"

"Yes."

"B-but…" Thomas stuttered. He was agitated, panicked even. "W-what about Gally-"

"I don't shucking care about Gally, Thomas." He interrupted again, speaking louder. "I. Can't. Do. It. Anymore. Do you understand that?"

The brunet was now distressed.

"B-but, please!" He begged. "Please Minho! Don't…"

"NO! Stop! I can't, okay?! I can't!"

"Why!?"

"Because I love you!"

The words left his mouth involuntarily. Realization hit him as Thomas's eyes widened.

"Shit." He said. "Shit, shit, shit."

He grabbed his head into his hands, pressing hard, clenching his eyes shut, hoping this was all a dream and that he didn't just confess to his best friend.

"You… you love me?"

Minho was on the verge of tears. He was going to lose his best friend. "Yes…" he still admitted softly, because he could not deny it any longer.

"And I can't pretend to be your boyfriend anymore because it just feels like I'm taking advantage of you whenever we're hugging or kissing" he added. "It feels so good, yet so wrong because I know you don't like it, I know you're not attracted to me, and I'm here taking advantage of the situation while making you uncomfortable and-"

"You're so dumb."

Minho raised his head, finally looking at Thomas who was definitely calmer than before.

"You're so dumb" he repeat. "I would've not asked you to do that if that made me uncomfortable. In fact, I was feeling bad because it was like I was forcing you to do all that, but I couldn't stop…"

He paused, biting his lips as his friend looked at him with surprised eyes.

"In fact… I thought that maybe if we pretended to date, it was my only chance at dating you because I never thought you could love me…"

At that, Minho was immediately at the brunet side, stroking the few tears that were on his cheeks, tears the boy probably didn't even noticed.

"Oh Tommyboy…"

"I'm sorry… I should've told you before. You're my best friend. The most important person for me. We have the strongest bond. Of course I love you…I can't see myself with anyone but you… but I thought that if I told you, we would lose what we had and I didn't want that… I'm so sorry…"

"Shh, stop…" Minho whispered while taking the young man in his arms. "It's my fault too… I was scared of losing you too, so I didn't say anything… I'm sorry…"

Thomas pressed his face in the Korean's chest, and Minho almost died. He was allowed to hold his friend in his arms. He was allowed to hug him, kiss him… love him.

"I'm sorry…" he murmured again. "I love you so much…"

They ended up on their couch, cuddling, with Minho pressing soft kisses on top of Thomas's head. Because now, he could.

He could drown him in affection if he wanted too.

"How long?" Thomas asked, breaking the silence. "How long have you been in love with me?"

"Since forever, shank."

The boy beamed. "For real?"

"Yeah…"

It was now Thomas's turn to kiss him passionately, and this time, there was no holding back. Tongues danced with each other, hands were everywhere, feeling everything. It was desperate, needy, and so earth-shattering. It was everything they need.

When they separated, breathing hard, only love could be seen in their eyes. And their smiles shined like the sun.

"You know" Thomas started "I love kissing you…"

Minho raised an eyebrow, and by his smirk, the brunet knew he shouldn't have said that. "Oh yeah? Does that mean that I'll also get to have sex with you?" he teased.

Thomas rolled his eyes, but the Asian knew that it meant yes.

"Now?"

That got him a slap on his chest.

"I'm joking! You know I'll be fine with just being able to kiss and hold you and that I would wait forever for you."

"I know."

"Great. Also know that I'm never letting you go, sorry shank, but you're stuck with me."

Thomas winked at that "That's what I want."

____________________________

Thomas's experience about his demisexuality and demiromanticism in this fic is heavily inspired by my own and does not reflect all demi-aroace experiences.

Thank you for reading!

17 notes · View notes

gwentoryfics · 4 years

Text

Hot for Teacher, Part 10.

GENRE | College Student x College Professor Smut AU

PAIRING | Reader x Hongseok x Hyunggu (Kino) x Wooseok

WORDS | 11.3k

SUMMARY | You never realized how much one drunken night could color the rest of your college experience until you discover that the handsome stranger from your cousin’s wedding is also the new professor at your university.

WARNINGS | Swearing. Phone sex. Video sex. Masturbation (male and female). Pillow humping.

PARTS | 1 • 2 • 3 �� 4 • 5 • 5.5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • More Coming Soon

NOTE | The smut MAY have gotten a little out of hand this time... NO REGERTS. Also sorry that it took me so long to finally finish & post this. Anxiety, depression, and long work weeks really suck.

TAGS | @astralsweetness, @bearboyunho, @day6grams, @heyheydee7, @hhhongseok, @honeyutoda, @kkxn0, @precious-seungwooya, @seraplantery, @smilechannie, @the-deviant-world, @yeosang-ponytail

“Jinho?”

You’re completely frozen in place as you stare at your brother, as bright eyed as he’s ever been, standing just across the lobby. He stands on his tiptoes to wave as people pass between you both, and then he’s walking towards you.

Jinho, your big brother, is here. He’s right here.

You finally break out of your shock, vision growing blurry with tears as you rush towards him, abandoning your grip on your suitcase as soon as he pulls you into a hug.

“_____, I missed you!” Jinho squeezes you tightly, and you notice his body is much more solid than it used to be.

“Jinho…” You weakly whimper his name as the tears begin to fall, still in utter disbelief that after so long you finally get the chance to see him again. You haven’t heard a word from him since the day he disappeared.

“Come on, _____, don’t cry.” He pats your back but doesn’t make any attempt to let you go.

Even with your arms securely wrapped around him, you still can't comprehend the fact that he's here and he's alive and he's here.

Jinho waits until you finally release him, giving you all the time you need to hold him close. He gives you the warmest smile, and as much as it soothes you, it also makes you suddenly, incredibly angry.

"Where did you go?" You ask, frustration thick in your voice. "Why did you leave? Why haven't I heard anything from you?"

Jinho's smile fades, but he seems understanding of your pain. "Let's talk about it in the car, okay?"

You nod, overwhelmed by all of the emotions flooding you. Jinho grabs the handle of your bag and leads you out into the parking lot. You tightly grasp the sleeve of his coat as you walk together, afraid that he could slip away from you at any moment.

Once you’re finally on the road and headed home, he speaks up. “You know how mom and dad wanted you to be a secretary? Or a housewife? They’ve been telling you basically since you could walk that they already decided what you should do with your life and that their plan was the best plan. Right?”

You hum quietly in agreement. They had always been vocal about what they wanted for you.

“They did that to me, too, I’m sure you remember.”

“Yeah, I lost count of the number of times I heard them telling family and neighbors about how you were going to take over the farm one day.”

“It’s suffocating. It felt like I had no control over my life, like I couldn’t actually do what I wanted to do.”

“What did you want to do?”

Jinho sighs, shifting in his seat as you coast down the street, headed for the country. “I didn’t really know what I wanted to do. I still don’t. All I knew was that I wanted to make my own decision. So I joined the Army.”

Your eyes widen and you sit up a little straighter, surprised. “What?”

Jinho lets out a short laugh at your response. “Yeah, it just seemed like the right way to go. I didn’t have a plan for university or for a career, so I thought joining the Army would let me get away from home for a while, let me meet some new people.”

“Jinho, how does that make any sense? You left home because you had no freedom, so you joined the Army, where you also have no freedom?”

“I never said it was a good idea, or even the right one. But it’s the choice I made. I got to make that decision,” Jinho responds bitterly. A little softer, he says, “I didn’t have the balls you have to uproot your whole life in pursuit of a passion, to tell mom and dad that you won’t do as they say. So I just had to leave, had to disappear.”

You chew on your lip, processing everything he’s shared with you, but one question remains: “Why did you have to abandon me, too?”

“It felt like the only way. It felt like I needed full separation from my life here, and you were unfortunately part of that. I feel awful about it and I never should have removed myself from your life like that. You’re my little sister,” He looks over at you fondly, but it’s bittersweet. “And I’m your big brother. I’m supposed to be there for you but I was selfish and left you to fend for yourself. I am so, so sorry for that.”

You hate to admit it, but you understand where he’s coming from. It makes sense. You just hate that it made you feel so shitty and like you didn’t mean anything to him. But you’ve always loved your big brother, and honestly you’re so happy to have him back that it’s feeling more and more difficult to continue being upset with him. Still, you put on a pout. “Maybe if you buy me some ice cream before we get home, I’ll think about forgiving you.”

“You’ve got it. One large chocolate cone for my favorite baby sister, comin’ right up.” He heartily agrees to it, and you smile.

“How long are you home for?”

“It’s indefinite. I’m done with the Army.”

“Really? What are you going to do now?”

Jinho laughs. “No idea. But that’s kind of freeing. Like I can just decide to do anything now.”

“That’s true,” you laugh with him. “And no matter what you end up choosing, I’m proud of you for figuring it out your own way.”

With a fond smile, he says, “Thanks, _____. And I’m proud of you for following your heart and doing what you love, despite whatever bullshit mom and dad try to shove down our throats.”

Oh, if only he knew just how much you’ve been following your heart… But you’re not ready to tell him all of that right now, if at all. The two of you used to be really close growing up, but him leaving obviously drove a pretty big wedge between you. It doesn’t feel right to tell him exactly what you’ve been up to at school.

Besides, it feels really nice to just let yourself get away from the drama, to just relax in the car with your brother on your way home, with the promise of ice cream in the very near future. You want to enjoy this just a little while longer before you’re forced back into contemplating your predicament.

All of the boys in your life can wait. The only one that matters right now is Jinho.

When you finally pull into the driveway, it feels like a weight lifts up off of your shoulders. It’s so good to be home; you love the excitement of the city, but there’s something so peaceful about the small farm town where you grew up.

Your parents are both thrilled to have you home, of course, and the four of you stay up a little too late just to enjoy being a full family again. Regardless of the circumstances of Jinho’s disappearance, it doesn’t seem like your parents are holding any grudges. You’re really thankful for that.

The next day, the Thanksgiving festivities kick off with a trip to your grandparents’ house where your dad’s large family crowds around the tables in the living room, dining room, and kitchen. The food is incredible, the relatives are loud, and everything just feels right… Although you can’t help but be excited about moving on to the next house for dinner.

After a few hours of eating and visiting with your relatives, your family piles back into the car and heads to your mom’s brother’s place--more specifically, Minseo’s childhood home.

As expected, Minseo tackles you as soon as you walk in the door, smothering you with a hug and squealing about how much she missed you.

You squeeze her as tight as you can, twirling in circles with her in your arms. “I missed you too! We have so much to catch up on!”

“Oh my God, you have no idea.” Minseo puts her mouth right up against your ear and whispers, “I’ve got a boyfriend.”

“What?” You practically squeak, partially from the surprise of her announcement and partially from the tickle of her breath. You release her from the hug and grip her arms. “Who? Since when? What happened?”

“I can’t get into it now because the whole family’s here and honestly my parents are not thrilled that I’ve even been hanging out with this guy. But what do you think about a good old fashioned sleepover at your place tonight?”

“Of course!” You nod excitedly.

“Yay! Okay cool.” She plants a kiss on your cheek and gives you one last hug. “I’m gonna go say hi to Jinho, since I haven’t seen him yet since he’s been back.”

You remember that she was supposed to pick you up from the train station. “When did you find out that he was home? I can’t even begin to tell you how shocked I was to see him at the train station instead of you.”

“Only a few days before you got here. He got my number from your mom and asked if he could pick you up instead. I told him yes, of course, but only if he bought me ice cream to make up for the fact that he was keeping you away from me for an additional day. I still need to cash in on that.”

With a giggle, you admit, “I made him buy me ice cream too, as an apology for disappearing in the first place.”

“What else is he good for if he isn’t supplying us with snacks?” Minseo laughs heartily. “Anyway, I love you, and I’m excited to chat more tonight.”

“Love you, too.” You give her a smile as she walks off to greet your brother.

More family members arrive, and eventually you all get settled for dinner. The food is delicious, as it always is, and you mingle with some of your aunts after the meal.

As you scan your eyes across the living room, you catch Jiyoo's gaze for what must be the fifth time already. Honestly, you're starting to wonder why she hasn't just come over to say hello yet. You excuse yourself from the conversation your aunts are having, which you weren't really a part of anyway, and slip through the room to finally greet your cousin.

"Hey, Jiyoo!" You walk right up and give her a hug. "How's the married life?"

She lightly hugs you back, but she seems a little stiff. "Oh, you know, it's going well. Hey, um, can I talk to you for a sec?"

You let go, immediately sensing that something must be wrong by the way she just dismisses . "Yeah, of course. What is it?"

"Maybe let's…" She nods her head towards the back door. "Maybe some fresh air?"

"Sure, okay." You agree, deciding to just follow her lead on this one.

The cold night air instantly hits you as soon as you step foot outside, but it's actually kind of refreshing. The house was getting a little stuffy because of all of your relatives, anyway.

Jiyoo takes a seat in one of the lawn chairs sitting out there and gestures for you to sit in the one next to her. You oblige. "Is everything okay?"

She finally confronts you, asking, “Did you really sleep with Hongseok?”

Panic strikes deep into the core of your bones. How could she know? “Sorry, what?”

“He told Hwitaek and I overheard and I just… I thought we should talk about it.”

“He? He told… Hwitaek?” You’re absolutely flabbergasted. Why would he do that? Was he just bothered by the way you ran out and needed to talk to a friend? That wouldn’t be entirely unfair of him, but you had both agreed to keep it a secret originally and you assumed that still rang true for your most recent tryst.

“Hey, it’s okay, just… just be honest. If he’s just talking shit about you, you can let me know and I’ll set the record straight.” Jiyoo searches your face for a sign of the truth, concern lining her delicate features.

You try to swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat. This is certainly not something you wanted to tackle tonight, but you suppose you don’t have much choice if she already knows about it. “...And if he’s telling the truth?”

Jiyoo’s lips press into a thin line. “Then I guess I just need to accept that my baby cousin isn’t that much of a baby anymore.”

With a frown, you apologize. “I’m really sorry… I know it was a bad idea but I just…”

“You couldn’t help it. I get it.” Jiyoo lets out a deep sigh. “Honestly, that’s how I was when I met Hwitaek.”

You look to her expectantly. “I’ve never actually heard the story.”

Jiyoo hums and crosses her legs, settling back into her chair. “We were both bio chem majors, so I saw him around quite a lot. He has sort of a distinct face, one that’s really memorable. And he used to always wear these big headphones everywhere he went. I always wondered what he would listen to.” She smiles as she fondly reminisces. “I used to work at the computer lab in the science building part-time, and one day he passed by. And just as I turned around in my chair to tell my coworker about the cute Headphones Guy, he walked right up to the desk.”

You smile, enraptured by her storytelling. “Did he ask you out?”

“Don’t rush the story!” Jiyoo chides. “No, that’s actually not why he came back. He asked me if I knew what time the building closed, and I said I wasn’t sure. And then he gave me this weird look and laughed, saying, ‘What do you mean? You work here. How do you not know what time the building closes?’ I felt like an idiot, but I just told him that I knew when the lab closed, but that I didn’t know if the building closed at the same time. I didn’t think it was that crazy, but he did, apparently.”

“Wow, that’s very romantic,” you sarcastically comment with a chuckle.

“Yeah, it might not have been a great start, but the thing is, he stayed right there at my desk and talked to me for an hour and a half until my shift was over. And then he walked me to my dorm building. And then he came upstairs, and I’m sure you can guess where this is headed.” She smiles at you deviously.

With a laugh, you respond, “Really? You gave it up that quickly? I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

“_____, you’ve seen him. I took one look at him and I was enamored. Add his dorky personality on top of that and I was practically telling him I loved him that night.” Even in the darkness of the backyard, you’re positive that she’s blushing. “And now look at us. He’s the love of my life and I wouldn’t give him up for the world. So all of this to say, I absolutely understand how there are certain people that you just can’t resist.”

You just nod. “It’s definitely difficult.”

“So how have you been handling the semester?”

“I mean, I tried to keep things between us as normal as possible but obviously that didn’t really work out, as you’re apparently aware,” you laugh. But when you look over at her, she just looks at you quizzically.

“What do you mean?”

And that’s when it dawns on you that this whole time she’s just been talking about your original hookup with Hongseok. She doesn’t know about the one that happened literally two nights ago. “Oh! Oh… oh no.”

You can’t cover for yourself in time. Jiyoo’s eyes grow wide and her mouth hangs open as she realizes exactly where the misunderstanding came from. “Did you sleep with him again?”

“I thought that’s what you were talking about!”

“_____!” Even though Jiyoo is shocked, she keeps her volume low, well aware that the entire rest of your family is packed inside. “He’s your professor!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Frustration blossoms in your chest. “And what about everything you just said? I thought you understood!”

“This is different! It’s one thing to be swept off your feet by a handsome stranger, and it’s entirely another to screw your professor!”

“Are you seriously mad about this right now?”

Jiyoo just shakes her head in disbelief. “_____… What have you done?” She falls silent, and somehow that is the worst thing that you could have received from her. She takes a deep breath and then instructs you to stay put as she disappears inside. When she returns a few moments later, Hwitaek and Minseo are in tow.

She literally brought in recruits. You immediately throw up your walls, feeling the need to defend yourself. “What’s this all about?”

Jiyoo looks at you like the concerned mother hen that she’s always been whenever you’re involved. “I think we all need to talk about how you’re handling yourself.”

Minseo’s brow furrows with confusion as she looks to Jiyoo. “What happened?”

“She slept with Hongseok again.”

Both Hwitaek and Minseo are visibly shocked by the news, but more importantly, you’re shocked by the gall that Jiyoo has to spread your personal life around like that.

Minseo’s expression melts to something that looks kind of like sadness. Before she can say anything to you, though, you shoot daggers at Jiyoo. “Why don’t we all just quit being such a gossipy family and instead just mind our own business?”

“_____-” Jiyoo tries to reach out to you, but you turn and storm off, heading towards the barn just to get a second away from everyone so that you can breathe.

You slip inside the large barn, slowing your pace as you walk past the tractors and other equipment stored there. You head directly to the back of the barn and plop down onto the floor.

There’s something weirdly comforting about being in the barn. It reminds you of growing up, back when things were a little more simple. Your life working on the family farm hadn’t been particularly easy--it’s very challenging work--but at least back then you didn’t make such shitty decisions for how to live your life.

You barely get more than a minute of solitude before the barn door creaks open, and Hwitaek pops his head in. “_____?” He looks around for a second before he spots you. “Can I come in?”

“You’re not here to lecture me, are you?”

“Not going to lecture you. I promise.”

You chew your bottom lip. “Come in.”

Hwitaek closes the door behind him and makes the long walk over to where you’re seated. He joins you on the floor, and sits quietly for longer than you expected. Maybe he just doesn’t really know what to say. It’s not like the two of you have ever spent time together before. You chatted for, like, a second at the wedding, and that’s it.

Eventually he gets some words together. “I’m not going to apologize because it’s not my place to, but I’m sure you know that Jiyoo likes to make everything her business.”

“Not sure if you’ve seen any trends yet, but that’s kind of just how our family is.”

“I’ve noticed.” He chuckles. “Minseo has been spending a lot of time at our place recently and oh my God those two never run out of tea to spill.”

You have to laugh too because you know how true that is. “Yeah, they can be a lot. I’m sure it’s at least partially a small-town mindset. Everyone here is always in everyone else’s business and I’m just kind of over it. That’s half the reason why I wanted to get away and go to university.”

Hwitaek nods. “I can understand that. I’ve never lived in any major cities but it definitely seems like a change of pace compared to here.”

“It is. But I like it.”

Another silence falls between you, and you absentmindedly fiddle with your shoelaces as the cold starts to set in. It’s a bit awkward, but you just stew in it until he speaks up again.

Eventually he says, “Hongseok has talked to me about you. I know it’s not any of my business though so we don’t have to talk about him if you don’t want to.”

“Jiyoo said he told you about… the wedding.”

“He did. And he told me how hard it has been to be around you. It sounds like he’s really been struggling with everything he’s feeling, and I shouldn’t be surprised that he caved. I even told him not to act on his impulses because clearly that introduces a lot of risk into the situation, and I didn’t think that was a good idea. He’s usually so disciplined…”

“It’s kind of my fault,” you confess. “I have zero self discipline and I just couldn’t keep myself under control.”

“Well regardless of who takes the blame, I do trust Hongseok with my life and I think he’s got a good head on his shoulders. It’s not my job to tell you two what you should or shouldn’t do, so I’m going to take a step back. He certainly doesn’t have any ulterior motives, so I don’t think it’s truly that concerning that you’re student and teacher.” He shoots you a side eye. “As long as you’re not planning to blackmail him or anything.”

You just shake your head. “I’m not like that. What happened between us has absolutely nothing to do with me wanting some sort of personal gain or anything. It’s just… he’s just attractive, that’s all.” You feel your face heat up. It feels weird to say that to Hongseok’s best friend.

“He really is. And he’s charming, too. I get why anyone would fall for him.”

You laugh awkwardly. “Who said I was falling for him?”

“Feel free to tell me you’re not, if that’s the case.” Hwitaek looks over at you, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

You frown. You know you’re definitely attracted to him, and you enjoyed spending time with him at the exhibit, but do you have any feelings? It’s hard to tell because of the way things ended. “I don’t know. I think we just need to talk when I get back. I kind of ran away last time I saw him so there’s a lot that’s unresolved.”

“Just be honest with him when you talk, and that’ll encourage him to open up, too. There’s no point in trying to have a discussion with him if he feels like he has to watch everything he says.”

“Yeah, I think some honesty would probably be good for us.”

“No matter what you two decide about where to go from here, it’s up to you two. Just know that there might be consequences, so be careful. And I’ll do my best to keep Jiyoo out of it.”

“Thanks, Hwitaek.” You give him a small smile. “I appreciate your support.”

“Of course. He’s my best friend and I want him to be happy. It’s risky, but I get it.” Hwitaek stands and holds out a hand to help you up. “Let’s head back now. It’s freezing out here and I’m dying to dig into that pumpkin pie.”

You and Minseo sit silently on the old couch in your basement, munching on gummy candies and popcorn as an old movie plays on the TV. It’s not one that either one of you is particularly enthusiastic about, but it’s just one of the many DVDs tucked into the entertainment center the TV stands on.

She’s been more quiet than usual since she came back to your house with you after the family dinner had ended, and you’re positive that it has to be because of the sudden announcement of your affair with Hongseok. You’ve been dying to bring it up with her, but you had to wait until Jinho finally went to bed so the two of you could be alone.

Now that he’s gone, it’s time for you to talk.

You’re not really sure where to start, so you just ask, “Are you mad at me?”

Minseo sighs. “We always tell each other everything. Why didn’t you tell me about Hongseok? Why did you tell Jiyoo first?”

“I was going to tell you, I swear. I was planning on telling you about it tonight. Jiyoo just accidentally figured it out first because I’m a dumbass and misunderstood what she was talking about.” You lie down across the couch, resting your head in Minseo’s lap. “I’m sorry that you didn’t get to hear about it from me first but I promise I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you. I was just saving it for a better time, kind of like how you didn’t want to talk about your boyfriend when we were at your parents’ house.”

Minseo rakes her fingers through your hair, and you close your eyes, pleased. “I get it. I’m sorry for being grumpy about it.”

“It’s okay. We all get grumpy. Do you want to hear about it now?”

“Duh,” she laughs. “I want every single detail. Spill.”

So you tell her everything. How he gave you the private tour of his exhibit, how you essentially invited yourself over to his apartment, how he made it pretty clear that he didn’t really want you to leave until he had his way with you. How you ran like the wind out of his apartment the next morning. And you even tell her about your trysts with Wooseok, and the fact that you’re supposed to be mulling over whether you want to date Kino when you get back to the city. And as you expect, she’s incredibly invested and interested in every single morsel of information you share with her.

“You’re really out there living your best life, huh?” She comments when you finally finish your stories. “What an exciting mess you’ve created.”

“It’s great, right?” By this point you’re seated upright again, and you lean heavily against the back of the couch, letting your head fall back against it. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about any of it.”

Minseo shrugs. “Just do what you’ve always done: follow your heart.”

“It’s so much more complicated than that, though.” You respond with a frown. “I can’t just do whatever I want anymore.”

“Well but you can. To an extent, at least. It’s your life, after all. And it’s up to you to make sure that you’re living in a way that makes you happy. It sounds like you enjoy spending time with all of the guys you’ve been around, but now you’re too stressed by the circumstances to keep enjoying it. Obviously hooking up with multiple guys and ignoring romantic feelings isn’t the answer anymore.”

“And my heart will tell me what to do now?”

“It’s a starting point. Take me and Hyojong, for instance. My parents don’t like him, but I do. He’s what makes me happy. So screw what other people think. Don’t worry about our family. Don’t worry about your friends back at school. This is totally your choice, and you get to decide what you want to do. If you’re just living your life based off of what other people want or expect from you, then you’re bound to have regrets.”

You have to admit that she’s right. You only get one life, and you’re the only one that gets to run it. So you can’t let yourself worry about what other people will think if you decide you’re interested in anything romantic with Hongseok, or Kino, or Wooseok… or how the three of them might feel if you choose not to pursue anything romantic with anyone. You have to choose for you.

“I have to choose for me.” You nod. “This is my life and who cares what other people think?”

“Exactly! That’s the spirit.” Minseo smiles broadly. “You’ll figure it out. And whatever is right is what will happen.”

You return her smile, and refocus the conversation on Minseo. “So Hyojong? That’s your boy?”

Giddy, she nods excitedly. “Yeah. We’ve only been together for a few weeks, but _____, he is absolutely wonderful.” She pulls out her cell phone and shows you a photo of the two of them picking apples. You immediately recognize his heavy-lidded gaze and long hair.

“Really? The bartender from the wedding? Girl!” You nudge her playfully. “I knew you thought he was cute but I didn’t know that you were, like, into him into him.”

“I didn’t know either! But I’ve been spending a lot of time with Jiyoo and Hwitaek recently and Jiyoo kind of set us up, and he’s so weird and funny and cool. He’s perfect for me.”

A warm smile touches your lips. “I’m so happy for you, Minseo. That’s exactly the kind of love you deserve.”

“Thanks,” she nearly blushes. “Now we’ve just gotta get you on the same train.”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I get it figured out.” As your conversation comes to a close, you look back to the TV. “Can we please watch something else? I’m so over this movie.”

“Oh my God, I thought you’d never ask,” Minseo laughs. “Yes, please.”

Late Friday night, you find yourself digging through your closet in search of the sheet music you know you have for “Rhapsody in Blue”. You meant to bring it with you this year but you forgot about it when you made the move back up to your dorm. You’re certain it must be in here, but you keep getting distracted by old photo albums and yearbooks and all of the other nostalgia packed into the shelves of your closet.

One of the items that catches your attention is the keepsake box that your mother put together for you. It started out as a place for you to store all of the cards you got for your birthday or holidays, but you added other random items to the box like the friendship keychain Minseo made for you when you were younger, or the small piece of wood you found that broke off of the dance floor during your school’s prom.

Inevitably, whenever you revisit the keepsake box, you find something in there that you had forgotten about. This time is no different.

When you open the small box, your eyes immediately land on the dried up flowers sitting at the very top: Hongseok’s boutonniere.

You completely forgot that you decided to keep it--your night with him was just a pleasant memory by the time you departed for school. When you had put the flowers in this box, you had no idea just how much of a story would grow.

You pick up the small bundle of withered blooms, running a finger over the dried petals until you realize something that you should have noticed before--now that the flowers have shrunk, you can very easily see the piece of paper that’s tucked in the middle of the bunch.

Gently, you pick out the paper, the dramatic beating of your heart picking up rapidly. Did he leave you a note when he gave you the boutonniere? What secret message could he have snuck to you?

As you unfold the small note, you realize he didn’t leave you a message--he left you his phone number.

Ten digits, his name, and a stupid winky face.

Part of you wants to crumple it up and throw it out the window. Rid yourself of it forever so you can stop thinking about him all the goddamn time.

But another (and unfortunately much stronger) part of you tells yourself that this is special. This means that you were never just a random hookup to him. Well, maybe it was random, but the phone number at least implies that he wanted to see you again.

Hongseok quite literally asked you to reach out. He gave you everything you needed to establish a connection with him.

What would have happened if you had called? Would he have wanted to take you out on a date? Would he have asked you to get all dolled up again, just like you did that night, just so he could ruin you?

And more importantly… what would he do if you call him now?

There’s so much that was left unsaid between you and him after you ran out. You have a million questions. And for some reason, you’re feeling stupidly brave right now. (You blame it on the dumb winky face.)

You jump onto your bed and grab your phone, your hands shaking as you pull up the dialpad. Are you really about to do this?

You punch in his number.

You press the damn green button.

You hold the phone up to your ear, pulse racing at the sound of the ringing.

And then he answers.

“Hello?” His voice alone sends something terribly wonderful shooting through your veins.

“Hi.” You answer simply, not really sure what to say.

Hongseok pauses for a moment, and then he says, “Sorry, who is this?”

Idiot. He doesn’t have your number. “Oh, right, um, it’s me. _____.”

He pauses for a longer moment, and you worry he might hang up on you altogether.

“Um, so I’m home right now for Thanksgiving, and I… I found the flowers. And your number.”

“I’m not sure this is appropriate.”

A bitter frown reaches your lips at his response. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

“Well what do you want me to say, _____? What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know!” You’re starting to feel exasperated, but you remind yourself that your rushed exit could be the cause of his attitude. More calmly, you say, “I’m sorry that I left like that. I just panicked and I had to get out of there. I’ve felt so confused about everything.”

“I suppose I can’t blame you for that.” Hongseok sighs gently. “We sure have made things confusing, haven’t we?”

You nod, and then realize he can’t see the gesture. “Yeah. We really have.”

“Can you give me a minute? Just stay on the line.”

You hum in acknowledgement and the call goes completely silent. Your pulse is through the roof, equal parts excited to be speaking with him over the phone and fatally nervous to be speaking with him over the phone.

After a little while, his voice is back. “Still there?”

“I am.”

“Thank you for not leaving this time.”

You let out a small laugh to accompany your eye roll. “Was that all a test?”

“Not exactly.” Hongseok chuckles in tune with you. “I just needed a second to get myself a drink before having this conversation.”

“Ah. You think it’s going to be that bad?”

“For my career, probably. Or my sanity, at the very least.”

It’s pleasantly surprising to you how quickly he drops his guard this time. “I drive you that crazy, huh?”

“Yeah.” He admits. “Yeah, you do.”

Now it’s your turn to be silent. You hadn’t expected him to so openly admit that.

“I have to ask…” He starts. “I thought maybe you just lost the boutonniere or that my phone number fell out, and that’s why you didn’t call. But you kept both of those things. So… why didn’t you?”

“Hongseok, you folded the paper up so small and you tucked it so far into the flowers that I had no idea it was even in there. I just saved the flowers because… I don’t know, they had a good memory attached. I didn’t even see the paper until now because the flowers finally wilted enough to expose it.”

“Was it really that small?”

“You folded it four times,” you laugh. “Once or twice would have sufficed. And you could have just handed it to me separately. I don’t know why you were so sneaky about it.”

“I thought it would be a cute gesture!” He defends himself. “I was just trying to be romantic.”

“You had the right idea. And hey, I called you eventually.”

“Yeah, just not under the circumstances I expected.”

There’s a thick pause, the silence heavy between you. You know exactly where this conversation should go, but you’re scared to be the one to bring it all up. The longer the silence goes on, though, the more you realize you just need to suck it up and ask the questions you want answers to.

“...How do you feel? About what we did?” You try to keep your voice steady to hide your nervousness. Then you tack on, “I think now would be a good time for us to start being honest with each other.”

He exhales deeply. “I’m not sure that I’ve ever felt more conflicted about something in my life. I’ve spent the last few months preaching to you about morals, and then I brought you into my home, fully aware of the Kryptonite that you are.”

You can’t let him take all of the blame for what happened. You say, “I’m the one that suggested it.”

“Yeah, why did you do that?”

“Because I thought I had something to prove. I swear I wasn’t trying to be sneaky. I genuinely thought that I just needed to one-up your car ride suggestion to show you how okay things were between us.”

“But now here we are.” Another pause, but this one isn’t as long as he willingly confesses to you, “I hate that you left. I absolutely hated it.”

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have run out like that.” You apologize, but there’s more you want to say. “But… I’m not sorry about what we did."

There. You admit it. As much as you felt the need to apologize to Jiyoo about your behavior the other night, it was empty. You don’t regret it. And if you had the chance to sleep with Hongseok again, you'd do it. It might be wrong, but you honestly couldn't care less. Especially now that you're talking to him, hearing his sweet voice and remembering the way he touched you.

Quietly, he responds, "That makes things quite complicated, doesn't it?"

"How do you feel about it?" You press him, feeling like tonight is the night he’ll actually be frank with you about what he’s thinking.

"It was careless of me to let you into my home, and even more careless of me to give in to my desires. I genuinely thought I could handle being around you, but I can't. I can't be around you, _____. You're far too much of a temptation."

"You say you can't. But you want to be," you push. You're getting him to open up one way or another.

And it works.

"Yes, _____, I want to be around you. Is that what you want to hear?"

"Only if it's the truth."

"It is." Frustration is sharp in his voice. "I've been a wreck thinking about you since you left. I've been absolutely torn up trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do now and wondering how you’ll act in class, if you’ll even show up. And now you just call me out of the blue? Do you know how badly I wanted you to call me this summer?"

You answer with your own question, keeping your voice soft. "I called you as soon as I found your number, didn't I? I swear I would have called you in a heartbeat if I had seen it sooner."

He sighs deeply. "Can you imagine how much harder this semester would have been, though? It was hard enough for us to stay apart this long, and that's after sleeping together only once this summer. We could have potentially built up a lot more… history before the semester started if things had gone differently."

"So you're saying you would have slept with me again if I had called you the next day?" A coy smile comes to your lips and you grip the comforter on your bed.

"If you called me, and that's what you wanted, then of course."

"And the day after that?"

He laughs. "As often as you wanted."

Butterflies stir deep within you. "...and what about now?"

Hongseok is quiet for what feels like a century before he responds. "What is it that you want?"

You bite your lower lip, knowing exactly what you want to say but trying to get up the courage to speak it. Eventually you just force it out. "I want to see you when I'm back from break."

"When do you get back?"

"Sunday afternoon."

"Come over then. I'll be home."

Incredible excitement pulses through you. He's done fighting it. He has given in just as much as you have.

"You'll have to text me your address," you coolly respond.

"I'll do that."

Quiet falls over the line, and you know that there's still something else you need to talk about. "What does all of this mean when it comes to class? It's too late for me to drop and honestly, you haven't done a great job of giving me unbiased grades anyway. You're too good at math for that to have been an accident every time."

"You're right about that, and I apologize again. You, on the other hand, have done a wonderful job keeping me honest."

"Why did you boost my grades, anyway?"

"Because I knew you'd come storming into my office to get it fixed."

"So what, you just wanted to see me?"

"I did."

"You know that was a terrible plan, right?"

"Yes, I'm aware."

"You've really got it bad," you joke. But there's a little bit of weight to it, just a touch of truth.

"And you don't?" He replies, and you feel the same weight in his voice.

You let yourself respond flirtatiously. "How can I not?"

Hongseok lets out a soft chuckle. "We've been screwed since the beginning, I think."

"Agreed," you murmur. "I knew the second I laid eyes on you that I was in trouble."

"It was that easy, huh?"

"It was mostly the tux," you lie. He gets a big ego far too easily.

"Mm. Then what was it the other night? Because I certainly wasn't wearing a tux."

You laugh and shamelessly divulge, "It was the glasses…"

"Really? Those old things?"

"They just looked so… you looked really handsome in them." The blatant compliment is rough on your tongue. It feels weird to so openly tell him that he's attractive.

"Mm," he hums. "I like hearing you say that."

Your already quick heartbeat picks up, but you don't know how to respond. So you just pick up your unfinished train of thought. "Wait, we're getting distracted. How are we going to finish this semester?"

"I swear on my life that I will give you a fair grade. I won't boost it in your favor just to prove my interest, and I also won't lower it if you decide you want nothing to do with me. I understand that I gravely mishandled the first part of this semester, and I just need you to trust that I'll do better this time."

You frown a little. "I want to trust you on that. It at least makes me feel a little better that you were always willing to fix my grade when I told you there was an issue."

"And if you have any further complaints about your grade, we can discuss it. That is always the truth."

"Okay. That makes me feel better." You breathe a little easier.

"And of course, it goes without saying that this should remain between just the two of us."

You sigh heavily. "Then I'm just gonna come clean right now and let you know that Jiyoo and Hwitaek already know."

"You told them?" Hongseok sounds rigid as ever, and you hope you didn’t just ruin his pleasant attitude by telling him that.

"It was an accident! Jiyoo came up to me spouting about how she knows about everything because you blabbed before, and I thought she meant everything everything, so I accidentally said more than I should have. In my defense, I'm obviously not the first one to talk to them about it so I'd appreciate it if you weren't too harsh about this."

He takes a deep breath, and you hear the clink of ice in his glass as he takes a drink. "They really are nosey--well, Jiyoo, mostly. Hwitaek just gets sucked in."

"She's always been that way," you confide.

Hongseok actually chuckles. "That doesn't surprise me."

"It's still kind of weird to me that you know them so well. And then you ended up being my professor? What are the odds?"

"Mmm… I’d say about one in twenty-seven million, nine-hundred-sixty-seven thousand, six-hundred-thirty-two or so."

You laugh in disbelief. "Don’t tell me that you legitimately just did that math in your head.”

“I mean, I can only take partial credit for that because no, I didn’t do the exact math for our situation. I don’t even know how to start calculating that. But I do know that the average probability of winning a six-number lottery is thirteen million, nine-hundred-eighty-three thousand, eight-hundred-sixteen, and I figure our situation is probably even more rare than that, so I just doubled it. That figure is probably still too low, though.”

“Oh my God,” you just shake your head, laughing. “You’re absurd. You just know the exact probability of winning the lottery? And you just did all of that multiplication in your head? Who does that?”

“I do, _____. I’m a mathematical genius.” Hongseok sounds so serious that you can’t help but laugh a little harder, and he laughs right along with you. "It really is unreal, though. I had no idea that I would cross paths with you at the university,” he continues. “Do you feel okay with all of this?"

"Yeah, I do.” You start to regain your composure. “I feel much better now that we're talking."

"Good. I want you to feel okay, especially if we both want to… move forward with any kind of relations."

You have to roll your eyes at his choice of words. "'Relations'? That's what you went with?"

"Ah, yes. 'Rendezvous' would have been better."

"Oh my God, you're an idiot," you laugh wholeheartedly.

He chuckles quietly. "What should I say, then? What do you think is more appropriate?"

"Maybe hook-up?" You offer. "Or… bang sesh? Fuck fest?"

That elicits deeper laughter from him. "All good options, I suppose."

"Or if you wanted something a little softer… maybe… a date?"

"I like that suggestion." His voice is warm when he responds, and then more quietly he says, "I was afraid that I ruined everything because of the way you ran out. I thought I went too far and made you regret the whole thing."

Butterflies stir deep in your belly. "You didn't ruin a thing. But I was definitely surprised when you kissed me. And… you said you couldn't stop thinking about me. I had no idea."

"I've spent more time thinking about you than I'd care to admit, if I'm being honest."

You let yourself smile broadly when he says that. It's not like he can see you grinning like a fool, anyway. "What would you think about?" You prod.

"Most of the time, it's your eyes."

"Really?"

"They're so intense, and so honest. It’s unbelievably easy to feel connected to you because of that, even when you’re mad or upset." He softly muses. "And when I'm not thinking about your eyes, I'm thinking about the way you danced with me at the wedding reception. Or the incredible music you make when you sit down at the piano. Your passion is truly amazing."

You appreciate the compliment, but that's not really the type of conversation you're trying to have right now. "And what about when you're alone? What do you think about when you think of me then?"

"Are you looking for something a little more R-rated? Is that what you want?" He teases you.

You sink a little lower into your bed, humming quietly in agreement.

"Those are the times when I think about the curve of your body, your clothes on the floor, you pinned under me." He confidently responds.

"Mm… Are you alone now?"

"I am." He responds darkly. "So yes, those are the thoughts currently going through my head."

A delicious flame of pleasure licks at the space between your thighs, and you drag your fingers subconsciously across your throat. "I have very similar thoughts… like thinking about your face buried between my legs." You don't allow yourself to be embarrassed by the bold statement--you're too turned on to think critically, anyway.

“Just you wait until Sunday, _____.” The mellow timbre of his voice has taken on some edge. “I have to warn you, though. I can’t guarantee that I’ll let you leave once you get here.”

“I want you to wreck me, Hongseok. Just absolutely demolish me when I get there.” Your voice becomes increasingly breathy as your hand slides up under your shirt, pushing your bra out of the way and toying with your nipples. Christ, what you wouldn’t do to replace your hand with his right now.

“If you’re going to keep talking like that, I think that can certainly be arranged.”

Pinching your nipple, you let out a soft gasp. All rational thought is very quickly going out the window as your need for release quickly takes over.

“_____, are you touching yourself?”

You know your noises aren’t quiet enough to prevent getting caught, but you’re also not at all guilty about being caught. You let your voice be sultry. “What if I am?”

“Then I just might have to join you,” Hongseok responds, fucking cool as a cucumber like always.

Your stomach twists into a delicious knot--you’d love nothing more than to masturbate with him over the phone. But before you get too carried away, there are a few things you want to take care of first. You abandon your chest, fumbling for the headphones that lie tangled up on your nightstand, knowing that you’re going to want both of your hands free for this. You also stuff a blanket along the bottom of your bedroom door to block the light coming from your room and help muffle any sound--your family should all be asleep by now, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.

“You always get me thinking about things I shouldn’t be thinking.” His voice comes through your headphones loud and clear, and your phone buzzes in your hand with the receipt of a text message. “Check your phone.”

You quickly realize the message is from him, and as soon as you open the message, you swallow hard. Hongseok sent you a picture of himself lounging in bed, in nothing but low-slung sweatpants. At the top of the frame you can just barely make out his teeth biting into his plush lower lip, and his muscular abdomen takes up the majority of the screen. But perhaps the most important and eye-catching piece of the whole photo is the unmistakable outline of his hard cock through the fabric of his sweats, emphasized by his hand holding the base and pulling his pants tight against his erection. You have no doubt that he must have taken photos like this a thousand times before because no one is that good at taking sexy shots without some practice.

“F-fuck,” you mumble, completely caught off-guard by the photo. Every thought you have is some combination of you wanting to kiss or lick or bite or suck every inch of him, and you try your hardest to form a coherent sentence. “Oh my God, you’re such a tease.”

“You don’t like it?”

“No it’s fucking amazing but Christ, what am I supposed to do with this?”

“Well if you’re open to suggestions, you could maybe send something back.”

You pause for just a second, contemplating, and then respond. “Okay, hold on.”

You know that getting a good photo could easily take you twenty minutes, so you reserve yourself to the fact that you’re just going to have to settle for whatever you can get in the next sixty seconds. You quickly shimmy out of your sweatpants so you’re just in your blue cotton underwear and a graphic tee. You pull up the hem of the shirt to expose a little of your tummy, and then try to snap a picture similar to his. It’s not quite enough, though, so at the last second you decide to slip your fingers into your panties, pulling the band down with your thumb to show off some extra skin.

There. That’s the shot.

“Okay, I’m sending it,” you tell him quietly, your hand oddly shaky as you press Send.

He hums softly in acknowledgement, and you hear him suck in a breath as soon as he opens the picture. “Fucking hell,” Hongseok groans. “You are so hot it is unbelievable.”

A devilish grin creeps onto your lips. You love that he’s just as floored by you as you are by him. “What are you gonna do about it?”

"For starters, I'll put that rotten mouth of yours to good use. And then--what was it? I'll wreck you. Ruin you. Demolish you. I'll pin you to the wall, the bed, the floor, and I'll stuff you with my cock until you can't think straight."

Jesus Christ this man knows just what to say. You haphazardly push your panties down, kicking them off onto the floor as your fingers graze over your slick pussy. "Too bad we have to wait a whole two days for that."

"I guess I'll just have to fill the time thinking of you and stroking my cock."

His words send a delicious shiver down your spine. "Maybe you'd like to think of how wet I am right now, how easily--aahh--how easily my fingers slip right inside." You glide one finger into your pussy, delighted by the way your nerves completely light up at the sensation. Your other hand returns to your chest, making sure your whole body is tended to.

"Fuck," he chuckles playfully. "You've got me so hard, _____."

"Ugh I just wanna ride you forever." You hear him moan quietly over the line. "Are you touching yourself, too?"

"Of course I am. How can I not when you paint such a lewd picture of yourself in my head?"

"I'm fingering myself and wishing you were here, Hongseok. I wanna be strewn out, completely wasted because I'm so drunk on you."

"Tell me what you're doing, _____."

"I've got one finger pumping slowly in and out of my pussy. My palm--nggh--is pressing against my clit. And my other hand is up my shirt, pinching my nipple. It feels so good, Hongseok, oh my God…" You start to get carried away in the pleasure you create for yourself, and you struggle to keep focused.

"I want you here so badly," Hongseok groans, and you know it's because of his pleasure. "I swear I have never in my life wanted anything as much as I want you right now."

Your heart flutters uncontrollably. How does he always manage to make these moments feel romantic? You desperately want to respond, I'm all yours if you want me to be, Hongseok, but it feels too heavy. Too laden with emotion. You swallow all of that down and respond with a much safer, "Tell me what you're doing right now, Hongseok."

"I'm thrusting my cock into my fist and desperately wishing it was your pussy instead, wishing I could fill my hands with your ass and occupy my lips with yours."

You whimper at his words. Imagining him fucking his hand drives you absolutely wild, especially when accompanied with such sweet words. And you can hear his hard breathing, his deep dulcet tones as he tells you exactly what you want to hear.

Hongseok continues, "My cock is throbbing in my hand, fuck, I wanna be inside of you so bad."

"I'm dying to feel your cock again," you moan quietly, careful to keep your volume low. As you slip in another finger, you feel the deep pressure that you know precedes some of your most amazing orgasms. Oh, this is gonna be good. "Fuck, Hongseok…"

He moans softly too, murmuring your name as he pleasures himself. "I want to feel your wet pussy squeezing my cock," he groans. "What do you think, _____?"

"I want it, Hongseok, I want you to…" You're cut off by the buzzing of your phone.

"Check your phone," Hongseok breathily commands.

You release your nipple and pick up your phone with one hand, the other coming to a standstill with two fingers still pressed inside you. Electric anticipation shoots through you at the thought of receiving another dirty photo from him.

But this time, it's not a photo.

Hongseok sent you a video.

With a shaky hand you press play, and you're immediately drowning in lust. The video shows his hand tightly gripping his cock as it moves up and down the shaft, slick with spit or lube or something. You hear him hum your name in the video's sound.

"I want to feel your wet pussy squeezing my cock," he groaned, and it sounds even more filthy and amazing because he recorded it. And then the video shifts up his torso and to his stunningly handsome face. Hongseok stares right into the camera, flicks his tongue across his lower lip, and asks, "What do you think, _____?"

You watch it again, open-mouthed in shock and practically imploding. Not only is the video the single most sexy thing you've ever seen, but he was brave enough to send you his face? If you wanted to, you could use this video alone to turn him in to the school. He literally just handed you blackmail.

You would never, ever in a million years use this video for that purpose, though. It's just amazing to you that he would trust you so much to send you such incriminating content.

"Hongseok," you finally speak. "You are so unbelievably perfect."

"Hardly," he lets out a soft, low chuckle. "I'm just horny out of my mind right now."

"Me too, and fuck it feels so good."

"I want to see you, _____."

Your breath catches in your throat. You've never taken a video of yourself like that before, and it sends a dangerous thrill through you that he's asking for one. And as you pick up your phone, you see the call screen, and you notice that small little camera--the tiniest suggestion that you could change this call to a video call at any moment.

And then you dare to press it.

The phone rings again as you wait for Hongseok to answer the video call, and you're wholly unprepared to see his face when he picks up.

He looks at his phone for a moment, just looking at you, and then the most beautiful smile breaks across his face. "Hey."

Every organ in your chest is an absolute wreck. "Hey," you echo.

"This isn't quite what I expected when I said I wanted to see you, but I'll take it."

"It's convenient though, isn't it?" Your walls involuntarily clench around your fingers, reminding you of your need for release. "Let me… show you."

You lower the phone to skim down your body--although your top half is still covered by your t-shirt so you're really not showing much--and when you get down to the hand tucked between your legs, you lift one leg and wrap your arm around it to get a good shot of your pussy. Your fingers press deep into your slit, and you moan for Hongseok.

"Shit, _____, you look so good. I wish I could taste you."

You pull out your fingers and separate them, showing him the strings of your wetness that spread between your digits. "That's what you want?" And then you bring your hand and your phone up towards your face, putting on your best sultry eyes as you twirl your tongue around the tips of your fingers.

Hongseok groans, "Oh Christ," and then he shows you his cock, forcing you to plunge your fingers back inside your pussy out of sheer desperation.

"Hongseok, I wanna cum so bad," you whimper. You can feel it building deep within you, and you just need something to push you over the edge. And honestly, watching him work his cock might just be enough.

You feel absolutely depraved watching him stroke himself, curling your fingers into your pussy as you masturbate together. It's delightfully sinful and you're obsessed with the way it makes you feel.

"Hong… Hongseok…" you moan his name, forcing your eyes to stay open so that you can keep your focus on his hard length. The coil in your abdomen tightens to its limit, and you're entirely aware that the dam is about to break. You struggle to keep your pussy in frame, as you push yourself over the edge. "Watch, watch! I'm coming…"

And just like that, your whole pussy convulses and you abruptly pull out your fingers, watching as you squirt all over your bed. It's nearly impossible to prevent your moaning, so you do your best to keep the volume down as you explode.

Hongseok sounds just as pleased as you thought he might be when you hear a string of expletives come over the line. But even his words are broken up with soft grunts and almost-moans. "I didn't know… you could do that."

"Sometimes," you laugh, quite out of breath from the water show. "Do you like it?"

"Of course I do," his hand picks up its pace. "I want to make you squirt next time."

"You can do that," you acknowledge. Even after your release, you notice that your clit isn't at all sensitive and you are still pretty turned on. So you keep your hand down there, absentmindedly rubbing circles into your bud.

It's not long before you feel the need to engage your hips. You start thrusting up against your fingers, but you want something more.

"I need your cock," you moan to him, partially convinced that his body is the only thing you’re missing.

"I can't even tell you how badly I want to give it to you," he responds in a dark, sultry tone. On camera, he starts to thrust up into his hand instead of just stroking it, and you think it looks absolutely amazing. You thrust your hips in time with his, but you need more.

Less-than-gracefully, you climb up onto your hands and knees, propping your phone up against your headboard. He gets a nice tall shot of you kneeling on the bed, legs spread and strings of juices hanging from your pussy, and you hear him groan something about how he loves this view.

You grab your pillow and fold it in half for extra height before tucking it between your legs and spreading your folds so that your clit rubs directly against the pillowcase. You ruthlessly hump your pillow, eyes completely trained on your phone so you don't miss a second of Hongseok's jerking.

"Christ, you're unbelievably sexy. That is so hot, _____," Hongseok groans. His hand twists the head of his cock before plunging back down the shaft, his arm muscles bulging as he quickly jerks off. You can see his cock rapidly twitching, pulsing extra hard as he approaches orgasm.

“Think about me riding you, Hongseok,” you quietly moan, trying to encourage him to climax. “Think about burying your cock in my pussy and grabbing my hips and filling me up with your cum.”

“Is that what you want?” His breathing is ragged. “You want me to cum inside you?”

“Yes, I want it,” you confess, and you know it’s the truth. You’ve fantasized about letting him fuck you raw so he can feel every inch of you as he cums. You’re dying to know what that feels like.

“Fucking Christ…” Hongseok’s hand moves a little faster, strokes a little deeper, until it’s clear that he can’t hold back anymore. “_____…”

With just a few more pumps, Hongseok finally releases, his throaty moans accompanying each rope of cum that shoots up onto his chest. Between the sounds and the visual he provides, you simply cannot handle yourself.

“Hongseok,” you murmur his name. You continue to grind against your pillow, blissfully soaking it with your juices. The delicious tension in your abdomen is too much--it's coiled too tightly and it's going to snap any second now.

Your eyes squeeze shut so you can better imagine Hongseok lying beneath you, his calloused hands grasping your waist as you rock and grind your hips.

"_____, you're perfect. Fucking perfect. Ride me, _____." He seems to play along with the fantasy in your head, inching you closer until you finally break.

Pure, blissful pleasure rushes through you like adrenaline as you orgasm, roughly dragging your clit over the cotton of your pillowcase. It takes everything in you to keep quiet, and your thighs tremble with each powerful wave.

And when you finally open your eyes, you see Hongseok watching you with so much adoration it makes you want to cry.

"That was amazing," you pant, breathing hard from the exertion of your orgasm.

"It was amazing to watch, too." Hongseok beams. "I am so attracted to you it kills me."

You collapse onto your bed, tossing your pillow aside and picking up your phone. Hongseok genuinely appears to be glowing, and you can't help but wonder if he sees you the same way. You just smile and say, "I can't wait to see you."

"Neither can I," he responds warmly. He takes a moment to wipe the cum off of his chest with a towel, and then he settles back into his bed, lying on his side and gazing sweetly at you through his phone. "I can't tell you how badly I want to kiss you right now."

"I wish you could. Man, you're such a good kisser."

“Sunday. I’ll kiss you all I want on Sunday.”

It’s weird how much you wish you could just reach through the phone and touch him, run your fingers over his cheek, brush his hair out of his eyes. Your heart pounds as your eyes skim over his face, taking in his beautiful image. He makes you feel so warm and happy. It’s undeniable that you’ve got feelings for him. And so you don’t even think twice before the words come out of your mouth: “I like you, Hongseok. I don’t care that you’re my professor. I’m done worrying about that because I just like you and I want you and that’s all there is to it.”

It’s true. One-hundred percent.

Hongseok’s smile is small and sweet, but bursting with tenderness. “I like you too, _____. I don’t care about you being my student, either. We’ll make this work for us.”

“Mhm.” The fluttering in your chest is endless, and you know this couldn’t feel more right. “We’ll make it work.”

You both stay on the line as you turn off lights and tuck into bed. Hongseok talks to you about nothing, and your mind is finally at ease as your eyelids start to become heavy with sleep. His voice is a lullaby and when you finally fall asleep, you dream of nothing but the warmth of his arms.

POST SCRIPT | Thank you for reading! Please stay tuned for Part 11, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I post it!

#ksmutclub #uninet #universe-net #hongseok smut #yang hongseok smut #pentagon smut #pentagon hongseok smut #hongseok #yang hongseok #ptg hongseok #pentagon hongseok #pentagon fanfic #pentagon fanfics #pentagon scenarios #pentagon scenario #hongseok scenario #hongseok scenarios #hongseok fanfic #hongseok fanfics

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1337wtfomgbbq · 3 years

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I gotta rant for a second here. I hate this app. Okay maybe not this whole app, more the people on here. Specifically the people in the supernatural community. Yes talking to you. I can’t believe I’m even back into this with you guys.

I know people can pick and chose which characters they like and which they dislike. I know, for some trauma and whathaveyou also plays into what they feel towards a character.

But I am just so mad. I’m on a little bit of a rewatch, as you are, of season 1 to 3 (maybe some episodes of 4 and 5) because those are the only good seasons, and I just wanna look at some posts of my favorite character.

But my favorite character happens to be John.

TLDR: John's character is complex as fuck and people like to oversimplify and villify him, for no reason other than „BuT My DaAAadYY WaS ShiTTy!!!!“

And I get it. People on here disregard season 1-3, even the writers disregarded what JDM wanted John to be: “I don’t think he’s as screwed-up as other people do,” Morgan told EW. “I think he is a guy who’s got a tremendous amount of love for his family. He was willing to die for his sons, willing to put himself in a place to where he could lose his life for revenge on what killed his wife. So as much has been said about John or that I’ve heard about John, I think what is missing is that he shows love in different ways. Maybe he wasn’t a big hugger and he didn’t say the right things when he should’ve — and there’s a bigger picture about getting your kids into hunting ghosts that I should acknowledge — but I think at his core he really loved his family and was willing to sacrifice everything. So I never looked or played John in a way that there was any malice toward his sons.”

People project what went wrong in their lifes and with their fathers on this app SO HARD. To be fair they do that everywhere. But it's so infuriating when it's done to a character you love so much.

And as much as I wanna be understanding I am just so pissed.

Hear me out: Back when I first started watching supernatural (I was fucking 12 back then, can you believe that) and my friend was all „OMG Sam is such a treat. He's mine!“ I thought, okay I'm gonna take Dean then.

The coin finally dropped on me in 'Shadow' and I realized „Heck, screw Dean, I'm taking John!“ (Not that I told my friend that, LOL. I hadn't realized just then that I prefer older guys)

And attraction is one thing, but the character spoke to me on such a deep level too. I mean, you got a dude whos wife died in a way that he cannot explain in a rational way, only to have his eyes opened to the supernatural by Missouri. And it turns out whatever killed his wife also did some fucked up shit to his kid and is after, not only his youngest but, all of them.

So he's forced to take his kids on the run. But, he's also an ex-marine, he's a soldier and he can't leave other people to die at the hands and claws and teeth of monsters and ghosts and strigas and whathaveyou. Which leaves him struggling to ballance protecting and caring for his kids and saving people and hunting things, AND finding the thing that killed his wife.

The way John's situation was set up (ignoring for a second what we learn in later seasons) and the way Sam was brought up by him created a relationship that was bound to escalate; it was only a matter of time.

Season 1 to 3 we got a John that was distant and rough, but a John that recognized he fucked up along the way and who saught to rectify where he went wrong with his boys.

Season 1 episode 20: „You gotta understand something. After your mother passed all I saw was evil, everywhere. And all I cared about was keeping you boys alive. I wanted you...prepared. Ready. Except somewhere along the line I ... uh ... I stopped being your father and I ... I became your, your drill sergeant. So when you said that you wanted to go away to school, all I could think about, my only thought was, that you were gonna be alone. Vulnerable. Sammy, it just... it never occurred to me what you wanted. I just couldn't accept the fact that you and me -- We're just different.“

And guess what, Sam admits seconds later: „We're not different. Not anymore. With what happened to Mom and Jess... Well we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone.“

Season 1 episode 21: „I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home. I want....I want Mary alive. It's just....I just want this to be over.“

John literally on the show in person, Jeffrey Dean Morgan Season 1, admits that he didn't want ANYTHING OF WHAT HAPPENED, AND WHAT HE HAD TO DO TO HAPPEN!!!!

Sure, Sam suggested to Dean that John's just „working overtime on Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later“ in the very first episode but we never see John drink alcohol, for all he's on screen in season one, ONCE. (1x1) Suggesting that John did have a drinking problem but somewhere between Sam going off to college and the pilot he kicked that habit.

Sure, Sam is clearly vindictive BUT, when faced with a kid with a clearly abusive father, he also says that, „Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we coulda had Max' childhood. All things considered, we turned out okay. Thanks to him.“ (1x14)

We see him cry on multible occasions in season one and two, we see him hug both Sam and Dean and tell BOTH OF THEM that he is proud of them. Heck, he couldn't shut up about how proud he was of them. Like Jerry told Sam in 1x4 „Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell, He talked about you all the time.“ He kept Sam's soccer trophie, and Dean's first sawed off. He fucking died to safe Dean.

Yeah, he told Dean that he'd have to kill Sam if he goes evil but...

Let's take into consideration season 4 and 5, and John wasn't all too wrong for telling Dean this. Even if we ignore all that, as John probably didn't have the full picture, John didn't knew the extend of Sam's powers. As is always said, „With great power comes great responsibility“. We have seen in comics, shows, movies, all over pop culture and history, how easily great power can corrupt, don't matter how nice and righteous that person is.

Let's take into consideration what was added in season 4 and 5: Like John having another family, the fact that cupid had to get him and Mary together, Mary making a deal with Azazel, the few demons (not even all of them) Lucifer showed Sam who had been put into his life by yellow eyes; even that just adds more credence to the already established character.

Of course John was bound to have flings after Mary, you can't expect a widower to just be celibate forever. And it wasn't even that he bailed on her, he literally didn't know there was a child until twelve years later.

And considering John's erratic 'work schedule' and how little we know of Kate, maybe it was her that wanted John not to have much contact to her son. The whole situation with Adam isn't exactly clear, and told through the eyes of a ghoul. Plus, we all saw where John's decision to leave Adam in the dark about the supernatural had him end up (namely killed by a ghoul).

The fact that cupid had to get John and Mary together only gives more ammunition for my argument that John was only working with what was given to him. Pretty much everyone from hell to heaven was meddling in his life.

Getting ahead with headcanons here but, for all we know John and Mary would've never ended up together; for all we know Mary was a lesbian and John was bi; for all we know they could've still worked out without cupid's help. Who knows? We don't because heaven took that decision away from both John and Mary.

The fact that Mary made a deal with Azazel to safe John's life in exchange for Azazel to be able to enter her home in ten years time, again, caused something to happen down the line that affected John and the boys that John had no control over.

And I gotta thank Lucifer for his part, because it gives EVEN MORE credence as to why John couldn't give Dean and Sam a normal life. He reveals SOME of the people Azazel planted into Sam's life that were actually possessed by demons.

„LUCIFER: Look closely. None of these little devils look familiar to you? SAM: That's Mr. Bensman... One of my grade-school teachers. LUCIFER: And that's your friend Doug from that time in East Lansing. And Rachel... your prom date. Sam Winchester, this is your life. Azazel's gang – watching you since you were a rugrat, jerking you around like a dog on a leash. I know how you feel about them. Me too. So, what do you say you and I blow off a little steam?“ (5x22)

A few episodes earlier we found out that his friend Brady, the one that introduced him to Jess, was actually possessed by a demon, and the one that fucking killed her.

„BRADY (chuckles): Brady hasn't been Brady in years. Not since, oh... middle of our sophomore year?

SAM: What?

BRADY: That's right. You had a devil on your shoulder even back then. All right, now, let it all sink in.

SAM: You son of a bitch. You son of a bitch! (Sam approaches Brady, Dean holds him back) You introduced me to Jess!

BRADY: Ding, ding! I think he's got it!“ (5x20)

All of this paints a clear picture for me, of a man that got played by fate and heaven and hell and was only trying to play the cards all of them dealt him to the best of his ability. Did he fuck up along the way, yes, did he show remorse for that and did he wish he could've given Sam and Dean a better life, Yes.

I completely understand people liking one character and disliking another, even projecting onto characters I get. And I get that people's life experiances lead them to different conclusions.

But it pisses me off so much that I can't go into the 'John Winchester' tag without having to read some shit as fuck take on John.

I have to read people saying that he never told Dean he was proud of him and that the only time he did so he was possessed by Azazel. Which isn't even true, but a motherfucking lie.

Season 2, episode 1; when John WASN'T POSSESSED ANYMORE he said to Dean: „You know, when you were a kid... I'd come home from a hunt. And after what I'd seen... I'd be wrecked. And you... You'd come up to me... you'd put your hand on my shoulder, and you'd look me in the eye. You'd say, "It's okay, Dad." Dean. I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to say that to me. I should've been saying that to you. You know, I put... I put too much on your shoulders. I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sam, and you took care of me. You did that. And you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know... that I am so proud of you.“

I have to read people forget or disregard that John was literally a righteous man. Alastair tried to break John and John didn't break for a century and then clawed his way OUT OF HELL TO SAFE HIS SONS IN 2x22. John must've had righteousness in heaven (which would come through faith in Jesus) and righteousness on earth (which would come through living through the commandments) as long as that's what the writers meant with 'righteous man'.

I have to read stuff John would apparently do only because we learn in 'Dark side of the Moon' that John and Mary's marriage wasn't all sunshine and rainbows and that John even moved out for a period. Even though we don't know who caused that fight and what it was about, literally it could've been Mary's fault and John only left to cool off. And even if not, marriages aren't just sunshines and rainbows. Fights happen, bad stuff is worked out. That would be true even without the cupid spell.

I have to read someone projecting their experiance with their father onto John. I have to read about someone saying John would've been such a dick because he was in the military and fought in the vietnam war, and we all know that's what all sodiers back then were (dicks). I have to read about how homophobic and transphobic John obviously was. I have to read about how much John would've been racist to Sam and Dean if they'd been mixed.

John was born in 1954, he has to be homophobic and transphobic and racist and bigoted and everthing you can think of. It can't be possible for someone to be born during that time and not be, right. (I hope you recognize the sarcasm)

Everybody is screaming 'child abuse' as loud as they can without taking into account the unique world those characters inhabit and the situation fate, heaven and hell put John and the boys into.

Dean could dig himself out of his grave because John used to bury them alive and had them dig their way out of a coffin as training!!!? Are yall good?? Literally what did your parents do to you, what went wront in your life that you think shit like this?!

And I get it, you can headcanon all you want. I myself headcanon John as bi and that Azazel knew and used this fact.

The writers did John so dirty in later seasons, and I'm not even alone in this, JDM agrees with me.

„But it always bugged me that the John that I played is different than the John that has been portrayed since I haven't been around. I really wanted the opportunity to be able to come back and make amends in a way and try to fix the sullied name of this character. But more than that, it's three friends, life lived. It feels like we've been friends for a lifetime now, getting to reunite in a place that we love and that we met and do what we do and I think that is super cool. So not only does John win in getting to come back and see his boys and Mary again and hopefully make some amends, it's just as cool for me, the actor, to be able to come back and see everybody.“

I'm sorry, but if Snape fans are allowed to be pissed about people suggesting Snape would've been creeping on Harry if he had been female and looked like Lilly, I can be pissed about everybody and their grandma in this fucking fandom painting John in the worst light possible.

JDM created such a great character with depth and who was interesting, even in season 4 and 5 they were still respectfull to his character, but the later seasons were just *throws up *

And I mean, I get it, I disregard canon too. Like, I disregard everything after season 5, that's Sam hallucinating in hell to me. Sometimes even after season 3, cause I don't feel like dealing with the angels, and cas and destiel and all that.

I get it, I get it, I get it.

But I too have the right to be pissed off about the way people like to shit on my fav.

Long story short, I love John and how complex and grey his character is and I HATE IT how simple and 'black and white' people wanna make him out to be. I wanna punch a bitch. I wanna throw hands right now.

#supernatural #spn #john winchester #john winchester defense #john winchester defense squad #I am heated #I literally wanna throw hands right now #I wanna be understanding of you guys #but yall are *tears at hair *#I don't get yall

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satorou-s · 4 years

Text

MEAT IS GOD | zombies au

“I’m so fucking tired of stale beef jerky.”

“WE STILL HAD THAT?!”

zombie apocalypse au

i have been dreaming about this for days, i may as well write it

warnings: might be shitty, don’t hate on me

this is gonna be pretty long, so buckle up and grab a drink

it’s the start of a new decade and the world is swept by a deadly virus that causes the dead to start walking

crazy shit man

a month into the apocalypse, daichi crosses paths with med student sugawara and architecture grad asahi, they decide to team up because a small group is better than being all alone in this world

a week later, they hear a loud ass “SHIT” coming from an alley and comes across nishinoya trying to fight off 3 of the undead all by himself ,,, the men [muscle emoji muscle emoji] decides to help - because sir suga said they should - and lo and behold, welcome noya to the group

noya tells them about the people he was staying with in an apartment complex, his childhood friend tanaka and his wife, shimizu [rio needs to add heart eyes here but she’s too lazy to]

daichi decides OK YALL ,, LEZGO

now we have the group of: daichi, suga, asahi, noya, tanaka and shimizu

their ultimate goal is to get to the countryside where asahi’s family has a farm and hopefully, there wouldnt be as much zombies (or zombos as tanaka and noya calls them), and they’d have ~crops~

enter: star child, IWAIZUMI HAJIME

THIS MOTHERFUCKER

suga remembers this dude from one of his pre-med courses and here he is swinging a machete against FOUR ZOMBOS AND HE HANDLING THEM SO WELL

wow his muscles

iwaizumi got his hair tied back with a red bandana as a headband, he’s got a tanktop and an unbuttoned top on, cargo pants ,, boots ,, has this wrist band and ,, he looks so delicious man

ne way ,, so the group + iwa head off to the countryside yeehaw

they come across an enclosed camp

“YALL GOTTA STAY WHERE YOU ARE”

where the fu c k is that voice coming from

they look up and on the water tank we got OIKAWA TOORU WITH A FUCKIN RIFLE AND SHIT

he highkey the best shot with that shit in this camp

“YO WE AINT TRYNA PICK A FIGHT” they said

“SO DROP THE FUCKIN WEAPONS” oikawa says

“ITS LITRALLY A FUCKIN CROWBAR BITCH LET US IN”

“okay”

the big ass gates open, and there we have (cue angel music)

ushijima wakatoshi, kita shinsuke and bokuto koutaro

bokuto introduces themselves as 1/2 of the council in charge of the camp

there’s a council ?? yes

in the council, we have ushijima and kita who are in charge of the farm (the livestock and the crops ,, ushijima has a favorite chicken)

oikawa is in charge of border patrol ,, he’s fuckin deadly with that rifle and his accuracy on that thing is A++ 20/20 vision

bob the builder? we dont know him. we only know bokuto the builder he highkey be the dude who built most of the camp, the farms, repairs the gate, UGH LOVE THAT FOR HIM

we have a kuroo tetsuroo in charge of training, and supply runs ,, he knows which pads and tampons the women in the camp need ,, HIGHKEY

yaku is the mans in charge of the newbies, and speaking of ,, WELCOME TO THE CAMP TOUR

the whole camp is surrounded by fence walls, there are four posts and two main gates (west and south), there are tents in rows on the east side of the camp, and a row of outhouses (that bokuto built) and porta potties beside the main building, where people keep stocks n inventory by the north wall ,,, the whole west and south are mostly farm areas and where ppl park their vechiles

hopefully yall can imagine that

everybody in the camp has jobs to do

daichi and noya were put under kuroo for supply runs ,, noya is a quick boy and daichi is SMART wow they’re PERFECT FOR THIS

sugawara became the medic of the camp ,, their old medic died on a run so suga coming into the camp was basically a god sent ,, he also does inventory checks (with this dude named tsukishima kei who DIDNT sign up for the job but he does it anyway)

asahi does border patrol (coz wow imagine those thicc arms with a rifle in hand ,, DELICIOUS) he also helps bokuto in repairing and building things for the camp ,, their current project is another table for the mess hall/dining area :D

shimizu was put in to help care for the children in the camp ,, she sorta became a teacher and helps this girl yachi and this dude akaashi in teaching the kids basic education (because even in a zombie apocalypse, these children should kNOW HOW TO READ AND WRITE)

tanaka was put into farm work

a few months later, people started to get real sick in the camp ,, LIKE ,, season 4 of the walking dead type of sick where a fever can kill you and turn you into a zombo

suga is running out of antibiotics and ushijima’s medicinal herbs arent enough (yes he grows a herb farm)

noya nd kuroo goes out on a supply run to look for pharmacies to raid

lo and behold in one of these pharmacies they find a hinata shoyo and a kageyama tobio camped out in the back office

noya and kuroo brings them back to the camp with the medicine yay

hinata is a med student (noya showed off how it was him that helped look for the right kinds of antibiotics in the pharmacy) ,, kags is hinata’s annoying dorm mate

kageyama rolls into the camp with a rifle on his back and they ask if he’s any good with it yes he’s quite good ,, they put him under oikawa’s care

oikawa’s quite hesitant to teach this kid with the sharp and mean eyes but he does it anyway #SupportOikawa

tagging: @pretty-settersquad - @himbokutos - @akaaaashit

with contrib from: @bord-y & @fitriiaw for the inspo

you guys are free to add on with what you think :> | also im sorry for not writing all of the characters into this but it will make the post longer than it already is | feel free to share how you’d see your fave characters in this au :0

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyū!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #zombie au #zombies au #zombie apocalypse au #haikyuu zombie apocalypse #haikyuu au

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slowly-writing · 4 years

Text

Ulterior Motives

Steve Rogers x Kid!Reader

Word count: 1795

Requested by: @kye06

a/n: Trigger warnings for childhood Neglect and overall shitty parenting

You don’t remember very much before you started living with your dad. You had a few flashes here and there, mainly of what you thought was doctors offices though you know knew must’ve been labs of somesort. Then when you were around 4 years old you found yourself on the Avengers doorstep with a note that you couldn’t read at the time. Little did you know it was a letter, telling the heros who you were, and more importantly, who your father was. That was over 12 years ago, and somehow your life still hadn’t gotten any easier.

You were Steve Roger’s daughter, or at least that’s what you were told. You could tell nobody believed it, and that made you doubt the truth as well. He believed you at first, but as you grew you were constantly sick, which got in the way of any training that could prove your claims. Not that they really tried to train you after the first few weeks. You didn’t seem like anything special, so they decided you probably weren’t.

You did your own training in the safety of your bedroom, that where you spent most of your time anyway. They didn’t acknowledge your existence very much, and you pretended it didn’t hurt. None of them knew how to handle children, that was all. You made it work. You didn’t ask for help with your homework, you kept your grades up. When you got sick you made your own way to the medical wing and got the help you needed yourself. You found a way to raise yourself, and you pretended to be okay with it.

You tried not to show how much everyone’s attitude affected you. It’s not like they really knew you anyways, so who cared what they thought. The whispers going on behind your back of what your real agenda was hurt, but you could take it. You’re heading towards the kitchen to get breakfast when you hear more of the whispering that never seems to stop.

“She can’t really be his kid, she’s nothing like him!” you hear Tony say and you sigh.

“The odds are highly unlikely,” Bruce responds softly, “you know all this could be solved with a simple paternity test, Steve.”

“No.” You hear your dad’s voice, “I don’t think I’d be able to look her in the eye if it came back negative.”

That’s all you needed to hear. You turn around and grab your backpack from your room, none of them would notice if you left for school a little early. You’d be surprised if they even knew what grade you were in.

xxxxx

You had just got home from school when you noticed the tower was empty. You walked through the halls, looking into some of the rooms before wandering back to your own. You saw a note on your pillow and picked it up curiously.

Hey y/n,

We all had to head out on a mission. We should be back in a few days. There’s food in the fridge, so you should be okay here. You won’t be able to reach us but I put a number at the bottom of the page if something goes wrong. It is for emergencies only, y/n. Stay safe, kid.

-Clint

You smiled a bit at that. Clint was always the nicest to you growing up, he had a very fatherly vibe. He was gone a lot though, disappearing for weeks at a time, so you didn’t get to spend much time with him.

You set the note on your dresser before sitting down to do homework. You’d been working for about an hour when you heard some noises in the kitchen. You slowly make your way over, hearing a robotic voice murmuring to itself. You think JARVIS must be malfunctioning until you turn the corner and see a tattered version of what looks like an iron man suit stumbling around. Before you can react it turns to you.

“Ah, the littlest Rogers. What an honor,” it says and you feel a chill run down your spine, “you wouldn’t know where I could find your father, would you?”

“H-he’s not here,” you stutter out, not quite sure how to react to this particular situation.

“Well I know that. I am looking for a clue as to where he could’ve gone, certainly you must know something,” the machine says and you roll your eyes.

“You’ve come to the wrong place, buddy. I’m the last person they’d tell.”

“Ah, I remember now. The forgotten daughter. Well, I guess we could find out how much he really cares, though you won’t be around to see it,” the machine says, and with that it charges you.

You send a kick to it’s chest area as it approaches, sending it stumbling off course. You’re in over your head as the fight ensues. You can’t spar yourself, so you have very little combat knowledge. Adding that to the fact that you’re fighting a robot that you can’t knock out, you’re fighting a losing battle. You take more hits than you ever have, but eventually the machine takes off through the window, sending shattered glass flying at you. You wipe the blood from your face as well as you can. Holding your ribs, which you’re pretty sure were broken, you stumble towards your room and grab the note Clint left. You wait impatiently as it rings, praying whatever that thing was doesn’t come back.

“Fury, we’ve got a problem,” you say as soon as the line connects.

“This isn’t Fury. My name’s Laura,” a female voice responds, throwing you off. You can’t think of who else Clint could’ve left you a number for.

“Oh, um I’m sorry. Clint left me this number...I just assumed…” you trail off.

“Clint gave you this number? What’s your name?” you hesitate for a second, but you trust Clint. If he trusts this woman then that’s good enough for you.

“I’m y/n, I live in the tower with him.”

“Y/n, as in Rogers?” she asks and you frown.

“Uh, yeah, that’s me,” you say, you don’t enjoy advertising your last name.

You hear a commotion on the other end of the line before the phone is handed off, “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

“Clint, some...thing just attacked the tower. This robot thing looking for Steve. I fought it off, but I’m afraid it could come back,” you explain frantically, every second that ticks by your nerves are growing, you know you can’t handle another round right now.

“Y/n, listen to me. You need to get out of there right now. Get to the hanger, I’m sending coordinates to the jet.” You hear the woman, Laura, in the background as you start making your way through the tower. “Ultron attacked the tower, I’m getting her here.”

“Clint, what’s happening?” you ask, almost to the jet.

“I’ll explain when you get here, you’ll be okay, y/n.” With that the line cuts off and you pray he’s right.

xxxxx

By the time you touch down you’re already starting to feel better, physically at least. Mentally, you’re more confused than you’ve ever been. You make your way towards the house, you didn’t expect a safe house to look so lived in, but then again you’ve never seen one before.

“Hello?” you ask, knocking on the door.

“Hey, come on in,” the woman from the phone says and you nod slowly. You’re not sure what you’re expecting but it certainly isn’t the entire team to be sitting in the living room, looking very out of place.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Steve says and you flinch slightly.

“Hey, calm down. She needed help,” Clint says, walking over towards you and you take comfort in his presence.

“We’re not really in a position to be helping people right now, Clint. In case you haven’t noticed we just had our asses handed to us by Ultron!” Tony yells and you look at Clint.

“Is that what he’s called? The robot guy?” you ask softly and suddenly all eyes are on you.

“You’ve seen him?” Banner asks and you glare.

“Yeah. I’ve seen him. I’m sure you wouldn’t have noticed, but I didn’t have a black eye or broken ribs when you left the tower,” you yell and they all look confused.

“He attacked you? How’d you get away?” Steve asks and you shrug.

“He took off. There’s still some spare wiring and a broken window in the kitchen in case you don’t believe me.”

“You fought him off?” He asks and you nod.

“As well as I could, I don’t really have any combat training. I did what I could, I’m stronger than you all give me credit for. I told you I’m your kid,” you say, refusing to make eye contact.

“That’s not proven,” Tony says and you snap.

“Then just do a damn DNA test already! Or kick me out so I can live anywhere else! I was four when I moved in. I know none of you have any idea how kids work, but a four year old doesn’t have any ulterior motives. I’m not here to take you down from within, I’m here because I have nowhere else to go. Believe me, if I did I would’ve been gone years ago.”

“Y/n, I’m sorry I-” your father starts but you cut him off.

“No. You don’t get to apologize now. I hear how you talk about me. How you all talk about me! Like I’m the enemy, like I’m some ploy to get you to let your guard down. I’m a sixteen year old kid. I’m a junior in high school, though I’m sure you’ve all forgotten that. I don’t know why I get sick when you can’t, or why I’m not as tall as you are. I don’t know any of that because you guys are the geniuses here. You’re the adults, and if you want those answers, by all means go get them. I’d love to know too, but quit taking it all out on me. None of this is my fault!” You yell and the room falls silent.

“You’re right. None of this has been fair to you,” Steve says and you glare.

“Understatement of the damn century,” you grumble and he nods.

“It is. And when this is all over, we’ll be better. We will treat you like you deserve to be treated and we’ll find you those answers, but for now we need to get rid of Ultron, and it looks like we could use your help.”

“Thank you,” you say softly and he shakes his head.

“You don’t have to thank me, it’s how this should've been from the beginning.”

Tag list: @rvgrsbrns @marvelsdc22

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x daughter!reader #Steve Rogers x kid!reader #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain America x daughter!reader #captain America imagine #captain america #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #marvel kids #Avengers kid fic #Kid fic

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notkodanymorebye · 4 years

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bonsoir ! my name is sam, its 5:30 am as im writing this, and im a mess. i use she/her pronouns and im from aus – hence the being up at 5:30am for opening and still being late smh. i have a habit of rambling so sorry for this intro in advance lmao. but thats more than enough about me, let’s talk about the other and more important mess, reed’s token aries: K O D A R E I D

tws: mentions of divorce, drugs, and ya know the murders

STATS.

full name: dakota reid

best known as: koda

age: twenty five

gender + pronouns: non-binary, they/them

occupation: waiter/bartender at salvatore’s steakhouse, aspiring podcaster

hometown: reed, virginia

star sign: aries

traits: jovial, creative, adventurous, confident, detached, cruel, impulsive, lazy

drink / smoke / drugs: yes / yes / yes

MORE INFO.

born and raised in reed, they’ve honestly left the area maybe a handful of times. not for a lack of wanting to, they certainly have wanted to and still want to, just a lack of money and time and motivation to plan anything “””big”””” (leaving ur town is not big but koda is lazy) in their lives

im gonna try not to get too into it bc i will go on forever but two important things to mention as far as their childhood. the first, when koda was sixteen their parents went through a really fuckin rough divorce. and like any sixteen yr old whose parents are getting divorced it pissed koda off. they have a moderately better relationship with them now but at the time, it was messy. at first, koda was very outwardly emotional about it, but as their emotions were just used as a weapon for their parents to use against one another they shut that shit down immediately. only showed their emotions in a way that was more of a nuisance to their parents: graffiti, petty shoplifting, being a dickhead in school, flunking grades (though they werent great to begin with), sneaking out all the time, all that bs

which leads to thing two: koda was a dealer towards the end of high school/the start of young adulthood. nothing big, bc they were a dumbass teenager in a small town just looking to piss their parents off. but because they were a dumbass teenager in a small town i assume theres a good possibility that if ur character is from reed: koda was their dealer. eventually they stopped bc people figured out they were just a sometimes v annoying middle man for the much easier to deal with guy that koda bought from + too much work. like most things to koda, drugs were meant to be just a fun past time, not a full time career.

after barely finishing high school they had absolutely no want to go to college. even at local reed college it was a lot of money to put down and for what???? for koda to do an arts degree they dont really care about and then do nothing with it ????? instead they just worked more. they’ve had the job at salvatore’s since they were fifteen and its really a staple in their lives.

when they are not at salvatore’s, they’re still being a menace tbh that did not end with high school or even the dealing. they’re usually skating around (would also be driving around and sometimes they are but its illegal because they recently had their licence suspended), probably spray painting some fence, maybe takin some photos on their barely working dslr, partying, drinking, stealing shopping carts from the local grocer, being a dickhead, u know the ~usual

despite being the local, so far they’ve not had any close connections to the parkway victims and thats unfortunately made them pretty insensitive about it. they’re far, far more interested in figuring out what the fuck is going on than they care about u know the loss of life and danger to everyone else in the town. in stats i mentioned they were an aspiring podcaster and thats because, u guessed it, koda wants to start a podcast about the murders they’re a piece of shit we already know this

and since this isn’t showing in the tags anyways: here’s a link to their pinterest board

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

housemates – koda is a broke mf, i want this connection to be with other broke mfs that are leasing a shitty house and probably have one too many people in it, but like: it works yk

childhood friends – obv koda has lived in reed their whole life, they’re from a very working class family, can be a connection through family or just through school im down for whatever

actual friends – this is probably gonna be limited to like a couple bc koda is so closed off lmao. while they’re friendly and enthuastic with just about everyone, theres not many koda actually considers genuine friends, these are the exceptions

co-workers – koda is confirmed annoying most of the time but they are at their peak annoying at work so if anyone else works at salvatore’s a. im so sorry b. lmk lets plot

party people – do u do drugs and other reckless impulsive bs at house parties? then this might be the connection for u bih – bonus if they’ve been partying together for fuckin ever

an easy thing – literally just the song easy thing by dom ferra. an easy romance, very much in its early stages, prob not official at this point, kinda learning what being in a relationship should mean together. only open to f/nb sorry lads

then just everything idk i need to start getting ready for work but pls hmu if u would like to plot ✌️

#parkway.intro #( about. )

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clumsyracconking · 3 years

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A villain

Ch.5 (1403 words)

Same warnings. A friend I have said this was hard to read so I’m separating it all different now. Yeah enjoy.

Tag: @keigo-a-gogo @magical-girl-04 @imacowboy3

Once the two had settled into a grove Dab and Hawks got along well, they kind of had to considering they were living in the same one bedroom apartment. Hawks didn’t know this before but the league, or more specifically Dabi owned a club, the two of them would often go out whenever they could get Toga to leave them be. Some nights Hawks and Dabi were more than friends, to put it bluntly they fucked. If they weren't at the club or in their little shared apartment they would usually be out exploring, Hawks didn’t like killing in the night he felt it unfair. Some nights though the two would just stay up talking, and others Hawks would fly them up to the roof they first met on and they would just sit there. The two had become domestic in a sort of feral way, they dyed their hair on the same days, and even divided the house chores, Dabi was even teaching Hawks how to cook. But all good things come to an end. One night when they were out at the club Dabi left to go use the bathroom and just like that Hawks was taken.

It had been months, Dabi put all his anger into his plots to kill his father and running his club, Dabi had just figured Hawks had had enough of him and decided to leave, but that was the farthest from the truth he could get.

“I won’t say jack shit about them and you know that, you’ve been at this for months!” Hawks yelled at the hero that had been sent in for him today, he assumed he was in a basement.

“Well you know what time it is then.” Someone said, it sounded like Endeavour and honestly Hawks wouldn't be surprised if it was him, it wasn’t above Enji to hold someone in his basement and torture them.

“Yayyyyyy, time for my water!” Hawks said, he had gone insane even more so than he had been before this was how he was coping. After having been waterboarded and not spilling about the L.o.V for the day the hero who he still assumed to be Endeavour left, but a few hours later he heard a voice.

“The hell is going on here?” The youngest Toderoki whispered barely loud enough for Hawks to hear.

“Oh another one!” Hawks said almost with giddy excitement.

“Oh my God, Hawks!” Shoto whispered again, almost like he was afraid to raise his voice. As Todoroki rushed over to undo the restraints holding Hawks to the chair he had been in on and off for months he noticed the water from earlier all over the ground.

“Thanks for that buddy, but I think this is my queue to head on out.” Hawks said hacking up a lung, all that water hadn’t done him well and now that he was standing up and moving he could really feel it.

“Yeah, no that’s not happening. You can’t fly like that.” Haks knew the youngest Todoroki was right, but that didn’t mean he liked it.

“How long have you even been here?” Shoto asked the winged hero who had been missing from the hero world for around a year at this point.

“Fuck, that’s a great question. Ummm my rough estimate is around 4 months.” Hawks responded, Shoto could only wonder what Hawks had been doing when he disappeared from the hero world but that didn’t matter. No one should be treated like this.

“God I’m hungry, y’all got any food?” The fuck is wrong with this guy Shoto wondered.

“You can’t just stay here, he’ll know.” Hawks knew the boy was right but he felt like shit.

“Where do I go then?” Hawks asked the half copy of his old friend.

“Well dear old dad has some apartments around the city, you could stay in one of those.” Shoto suggested to Hawks with an alarmingly calm tone, almost as if he’d done this before. Once Shoto had somehow gotten Hawks out of the house and to the apartment, Hawks hacking up water the whole time, after getting Hawks to the well stocked bathroom Shoto decided to go make a meal, his father always had nice food in the extra homes he owned. While Shoto did that unbeknownst to him Hawks was reverting back to old habits, popping all the pain killers he knew wouldn't kill him plus a few, water to the lungs hurt like hell and Hawks was tired he wanted sleep. So that’s what he did, he went to go lay down in a bed unlike his last apartment where he had shared the only bed with Dabi, there were at least 4 beds in this apartment and no one to lay with. He missed his patch work friend, he missed the warmth of laying next to someone. In the morning Hawks was kinda bummed he woke up at all (mood), after he had accepted he was still alive he decided to sit up. Boy was that a huge mistake, it was the first time in months he had really layed down and his body was not having it.

“How sad, Alexa, play Despacito.” He said laying back down, getting up just wasn’t in the cards for the day. Alas at some point late in the day he did get up, almost puking on the ground in the process barely making it to the toilet. He really hoped his old friend had tortured him correctly and he didn’t have any brain damage, cause that would be pretty shitty. As the week passed Shoto came to check on him whenever he could sneak out of the UA dorms, Hawks is lucky Shoto decided to visit his childhood home when he did because without him he’d probably be much worse off right now. After a few months Hawks decided it was time for him to go, though he still felt like shit, he needed to see Dabi. It only took an hour to get to the club Dabi owned from where Hawks had been staying, he ended up leaving a note because he knew Shoto would rightfully so try to stop him.

Once Hawks got to the club it was around 10 pm and starting to fill up as it always did. After having been there for a bit he felt a needle go into his neck.

“Dabi says to meet him on the roof bird boy.” Hawks knew that voice anywhere, it was Toga.

“What the fuck Toga, what did you just put in me?” Toga was slightly annoyed, he disappeared over 5 months ago and now he comes back.

“It’s poison, boss man’s orders. Sorry birdy, though I would hurry up getting to the roof you'll probably black out soon.” Boss man? Hawks had so many questions to ask but he had to hurry up before the poison took effect. Exiting the club and flying up to the roof didn’t take long at all, once he had landed on the roof he found Dabi sitting there cigarette in hand.

“So poison, really. And why did Toga call you boss man?” Dabi was utterly pissed.

“You're not allowed to ask questions, You left!” Dabi said, his eyes widening in anger like they usually do whenever he’s about to kill someone who puts up to much of a fight.

“So where'd you go.” Dabi said not really asking but demanding, he needed to know what happened he felt like he’d suffocate if he didn’t.

“Well glad to see you as well. To answer the ‘where did you go’ question. I might've gotten kidnapped and tortured for a while. The little Todoroki kid found me and housed me for like 2 months, and now I’m here. Is that enough information for me to be given an antidote now.” Hawks said rather calmly, truth be told he expected much worse from Dabi, poison was just the tip of the iceberg and he knew that. Dabi decided to indulge in his curiosity, walking over to Hawks and sticking him in the neck with the antidote.

“So, boss man. Now that we’re not about to kill me can we have a conversation?”

Hawks wasn't mad about being poisoned but he wasn't entirely happy, he did know where they were coming from and why though, they thought he ran back to his old hero life.

#the prompts finally showed up #mha hawks #dabi #my writing #tw swearing #mha

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heeyjuuuude · 4 years

Text

so i’m finally posting some of my writing!! any feedback is welcome — it’s been years since i’ve posted anything, and my writing style has changed quite a bit. (this is so much longer and more intense than i had planned good lord.)

a couple things real quick! in this, there are some thinly-veiled references to nsfw happenings and some decidedly less thinly-veiled internalized homophobia, some of which comes from bitty’s experience with religion, and general homophobia. there’s also a passing mention of past canon-typical underage alcohol consumption. please read with caution, and if you have any concerns or think i missed a tag, please please please contact me!! going by ao3 standards, this is rated mature.

edit: this is now posted on ao3! you’re not allowed to judge me for my old fics lmao

(we’ll take it slow and) grow as we go

The thing is, Eric does want this. In the weeks between three stolen kisses in an empty bedroom and Jack joining him in Madison, he spent nights alone except for the ghost of Jack’s lips on his, and in his mind those lips press under the corner of his jaw and then over the swell of his Adam’s apple and then into the dip of his collarbone, and maybe they go lower and lower and lower.

In the privacy of his room, late enough at night that Mama and Coach have long ago knocked their goodnights on his closed bedroom door, this is safe to imagine, and it’s not quite anything new to him. He’s known without any doubt he prefers boys since he was fifteen and fumbling with the computer mouse on days when the house was empty but for a small teenager with red cheeks and wide eyes. He spent many nights with videos of men dressed in nothing burned into the backs of his eyelids, bottom lip tucked between his teeth and one hand tucked under the elastic lining the top of his boxers. And for exactly the same number of nights of that, there was a half hour spent in tears or near it, wondering if there was something wrong with him and wondering if Father Wilson was right in his homily last week and wondering how long he needs to pretend to think of girls with long wavy hair instead of boys with callused hands.

So no, it isn’t new and hasn’t been for years, but it feels like it is. There are similarities between then and now — Coach is down at the school, busy running his football players into the ground under the blazing summer sun, and Mama is on a front porch miles away, busy sipping sweet tea with her church friends under the brim of a baseball cap, and Eric’s cheeks are burning bright. The differences, though, are more important. He has his body curled into Jack’s, his lips pressed to Jack’s, his fingers tangled around Jack’s. They’re trading sweet, lazy kisses, laying on their sides with Eric’s dark teal duvet pulled around their shoulders so that the warmth of their bodies is trapped around them. He finds he doesn’t much mind the heat, and he supposes the fan whirring and clicking above their heads helps, but there’s just something blooming in the air between them — not that there’s much air there — and he isn’t sure whether it’s love or lust but he is sure that some part of him is aching for it in a way he isn’t used to.

He tells himself that it’s okay to want this, as Jack’s lips part against his. He tells himself that the heat simmering low in his stomach is okay when Jack slots one leg through both of his, and when his boyfriend’s leg presses higher, he tells himself that rocking his hips against the pressure is okay. There have been times when he forgot, and years of living in a conservative, Southern, and Christian house catch up to him. The first time Jack kissed him — and the second time that had followed immediately, and the third — had left him with a whirling mind and tight chest and a lip gnawed into red and pain by his own teeth, like that would sting the gentle pressure of Jack’s lips back into reality. The kissing he isn’t a stranger to, not really, but somehow, irrationally, there is a world of difference between being maybe a step past tipsy, clumsily making out with his Winter Screw date as rough, strong fingers curled around the back of his neck, and being in his childhood home, room, bed with his boyfriend and pressing open-mouthed kisses to eager, soft lips as his hips grind, lazy and slow, to seek the sweet pleasure being offered to him.

Eric tells himself it’s okay, but when Jack’s fingers lower from his shoulders to his waist to below the band of his boxers, he forgets.

There’s a moment where he doesn’t quite realize what’s happening, and then their lips separate and a Is this okay is offered to him on a breath and a silver platter. In the same moment that he recognizes the hard line nudging at his thigh, Eric is pushing at Jack’s chest, suddenly needing space that he doesn’t have. He’s mumbling words like hang on and wait, even as Jack manages an awkward roll-scoot combination that has him nearly hanging off the edge of the bed. And then they’re staring at each other, equally wide-eyed and flushed, and Eric clamps his mouth shut. He’s sure that opening it would be condemning, sure that words would tip over the edge of his tongue and tumble, rough and unplanned, into the fragile silence that separates them. He’s also sure that he doesn’t really want that to happen.

“Bits,” Jack finally says, simply, after a full minute has disappeared. His voice is gentle but unsure, cautious and caring. It’s what Eric is waiting for, apparently, because he slumps forward like a puppet with its strings abruptly snipped, and in between one moment and the next he finds himself with his forehead tucked into the corner of Jack’s neck and shoulder. He feels Jack begin to reach for him, automatically, and then he pauses; Eric nods, and one hand wraps around the back of his neck, a thumb stroking slowly, and the other arm winds around his waist to pull him forward a little. “Bitty, it’s okay. I mean — is something wrong?”

When a slightly helpless laugh flies from his mouth, Eric just shakes his head, and chases the noise with words. “No, honey. Just ... old mindsets die hard, y’know?” It takes one, two, three heartbeats, but he feels the second Jack understands, because the thumb rubbing at his hairline where it lies on the base of his skill pauses, and the rest of his fingers twitch like they want to tighten and only get that they shouldn’t a moment too late. Eric heaves a heavy sigh. “I just — it’s so frustrating,” he admits to Jack’s shirt. “I mean, I tell others that it’s okay to be queer all the time. All the time! But with me it’s just sort of ... different. I still, um. I still can’t handle ....” He trails off and pulls away a little, keeping his head tilted down and his eyes trained on Jack’s shirt. There’s a piece of fuzz clinging to it; he pulls it off and wriggles his fingers over the edge of the bed until it falls to the ground. “The idea of me being intimate with a guy is kinda ... off.”

A beat. And then — “Are you asexual?”

“Oh, I — no, I don’t think so.” He’s considered it, briefly, in the past, especially after Shitty’s talk about how someone can be asexual and still enjoy sex, but he’s positive he still feels that sort of attraction. Lord help him, he’s beyond sure.

“It’s okay if you are, Bits. We don’t ever have to —”

“Jack, you sweet boy. I really appreciate that, I do, but I’m not. I do want to — to be intimate with you. I just ... I don’t know, there’s no explaining it. But I think it’s just the mindset I grew up in and it’s harder to shake than I thought.” Eric pauses for a second, considering his own words, and then looks up to see if Jack’s expression will somehow help him.

It’s a mistake. The look on Jack’s face is — it’s not really pitying, but it’s ... sorrowful, he realizes. Sorrowful is the word. It makes Eric’s heart constrict a little, and then he finds himself smiling a little, almost against his will. Before Jack can say whatever is on the tip of his tongue, Eric leans in to brush a quick, chaste kiss against his lips, and then pulls back to tilt his head in until their foreheads and then noses connect. He waits a moment before saying anything, still mindful of how Jack had seemed to be wanting to speak up, but after the clock on the other side of the room has carefully counted out seven seconds of quiet, he exhales, and the noise is definitely either a hum or a sigh.

“I hate that I can’t — can’t practice what I preach,” Eric confesses finally, the words reaching out to bridge the little distance there is left between them, like they can make up for the fact that they’re no longer as entwined as they had been just a minute or so ago. “I feel so hypocritical, being so out and proud at Samwell and so ... so afraid to actually be proud of myse — no, that’s not right.” He whines, frustrated, and his eyes, already closed, tighten. He can feel the way it makes his forehead wrinkled against Jack’s. “I am proud of myself. But sometimes it’s like my brain doesn’t really know that. My heart does, and my — my body, but my brain’s just sorta like ‘No, that’s okay!’ And I guess it’s just because I’ve ... well, I’ve been told that it isn’t okay my entire life. Did you know my mama’s first conversation with me about the queer community involved her showing me an article about a man who decided to never date or anythin’ because he was gay and wanted to be able to dedicate his life to God? And, I mean, it’s his decision, I guess, but then she said all this stuff about how that was exactly what gay people should do. Which was just so hard to hear, because at the time I was maybe thirteen an’ startin’ to realize I wasn’t straight an’ that kinda stuck with me all these years an’ — and —” Another high pitched whine marks the end of the sentence, and he begins thunking his head lightly against Jack’s shoulder — at some point he shifted — until a hand curls into his hair, holding him firmly and effectively immobilizing him.

“Whatever you feel is valid,” Jack starts, slow but steady, “but that doesn’t make it right. You aren’t broken for wanting this. And I know you know this, so don’t look at me like that, but you need to hear it again sometimes.”

It isn’t until he hears those words that he is struck with how much he needed them, and then Eric is struck with such an overwhelming wave of fondness — because Jack knew, just like he always did, exactly what Eric had needed — that all he can do is squirm closer and promise himself that he’ll finally give in and make that nutritionist-approved version of the pie Jack’s been asking for.

After a stretched out silence, Jack’s arms find their way around his waist again and Eric is pulled close, and he feels more than hears when there’s an inhalation that seems to be leaning into a sentence. He waits patiently when none follows immediately, and soon after —

“What do you need from me, bud?” Jack asks, the words quietly pleading and cracking but so, so grounding. Eric sort of sinks into them, huffing a warm, maybe-slightly-wet laugh into the soft fabric of Jack’s shirt, and takes the time to consider the question.

“I — at some point we should ... well, I think there’s a little more to talk about,” he admits, and Jack nods his agreement with an encouraging hum. The next sentence is loosed before he really thinks about it, but in its release and freedom he finds it true. “But, um, for now, I think I’m done. Can we just stay here until Mama and Coach get home?”

“Of course, Bits, yeah. Whatever you need.” Without another word, they begin to move around again, shifting until they’re molded together, secure and warm and perfect. Eventually they find themselves in a mimicry of their position from the beginning, curled up on their sides and facing each other with their legs and fingers tangled, but Eric keeps his face in the safety of Jack’s chest, and Jack cranes his neck to whisper kisses into the hair on the crown of his head.

“Thank you,” Eric offers, in between grazing two kisses on the exposed skin of Jack’s collar. He can sense the head tilt that receives this, so he clarifies, “Thank you for being so ...” only to come to the conclusion that he doesn’t know the words that will summarize the feeling in his chest. Luckily, it seems like he doesn’t need to.”

“Yeah, Bits. Anytime. Anything.”

And with that, Eric lets his eyes close and gently separates his fingers from Jack’s only to clutch at his shirt instead, and he reaches up with his face to find his boyfriend waiting for him. He smiles as their lips meet.

#annie writes #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #zimbits #zimbits fic #check please!#missing scene #check please missing scene #madison visit #this is CONSIDERABLY longer than i had wanted it to be. ugh #i just really love writing bitty though #plus this fic was Very Personal to me?#as a southern and catholic and queer person #also this is my 100th post!! which is super exciting!!#how many ways can i say ‘it was quiet’? let’s find out shall we #excessive use of hyphens #excessive use of commas #also bitty’s story abt his mom and the article? based entirely off my own experience :)#so is the way i wrote his accent lmao like i definitely drop off some Gs from -ing verbs and the D in and when i’m having Feelings #i literally don’t know how to end fics #i know i said this was too long but it’s also too short #like i was aiming for under 1k and it’s hovering around 2k ...#but also i have a lot more to say about this and i’m not sure i got across what i was trying to #i just can’t do the words anymore #god i’ve been working on this for like a week and i still!! don’t really love it!!#oop i just edited and it is now over 2k #✌️✌️✌️

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