#I really want to cry and just have it out but I’m teetering on the like. wanting to cry feeling instead of pushing over | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

Text

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 21] || [Chapter 22.5] || [Chapter 23]

Pairing: Ghost x Price || Price x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.8K cw: drunk kissing, cheating (mentioned) Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we find out what happened in cardiff. i love vulnerable john.

Chapter 22: What is it about you?

“C’mon, Boss, up you go.” Simon told him as he hoisted the man up to his feet by wrapping an arm around the small of his back, and tossing the other over his own shoulders.

“I don’t know how she could do that to me, Simooooon,” John’s words and feet dragged a bit and tripped over each other, uncoordinated due to the excess alcohol.

John was constantly self-sabotaging back then, feeling sorry for himself, mourning his relationship and the wife who took advantage of his common absences to justify her need to step out on him.

When John was sober and busy with work, he was still the same as always: deadly efficient, a good communicator, a great strategist…

But when they went on leave…

It left Simon having to be the one picking up the pieces. Simon’s moved to Cardiff from Manchester many years ago, not quite enjoying Hereford enough to want an off-base flat in the same city as the base, and, now that he’s separated, John’s also moved to Cardiff to stay on Simon’s couch.

Or it would be his couch if he didn’t get pissed every night and leave Simon fearing for his life and the fact he might vomit and suffocate in it in the night, so he carries him to bed every time. The bed might as well have been John’s at that point.

Somehow he was able to wrangle John back to his flat.

He helped the man get into his bedroom and lowered him into bed before he pulled off the beanie from his head, then his boots, tossing his legs onto the bed a bit aggressively while the captain sobbed while lying back on the pillows…

“You’ll be alright, Captain.” Simon always tried to say some kind words to ease the drunk, heartbroken man, though he knew it did little.

Simon was strangely thankful Price was a sad drunk instead of an angry or violent one like his own father.

Simon bent over him to unzip his jacket and then was able to curl the man up against his shoulder in order to shimmy his jacket down his arms, like a toddler.

But something about that touch, almost akin to a hug, awoke something in John.

Just as he lowered the older man’s torso down to the bed and his head onto the pillows, he suddenly found himself unable to move, his shoulders being hugged tight by one of John’s arms.

His face was inches from John’s, their noses almost touching, their eyes locked. John’s blue irises were glassy from the alcohol and the tears.

The look in John’s eyes was freaking him out. He was still crying, but he was eerily quiet, not murmuring utter nonsense or pure vitriol for his wife and her lover…

The Mancunian tried to slip John’s arms off him. “C’mon.” He grumbled as he craned his neck back to try and wrangle off the embrace.

“Stay…” John pleaded, his eyes softening, his brows lowered pitifully.

“I’m right here, Boss.” Simon assured him as he once again tried to take Price’s arm off his vise-like grip around him.

It didn’t work. The grip just got tighter, his body trembling beneath Simon’s. “Please, stay...” He implored.

Before Simon could realize what was happening, his lips had been captured by John’s, a slow, tender thing, almost like John himself wasn’t 100% sure of what he was doing (and he really wasn’t) but wanted to do it nonetheless.

There was no tongue action, just a rubbing of lips and an exchanging of breathy sighs before Simon was smart enough to pull away, eyes a bit widened for what they had just done.

But Price seemed like he was still on the verge of crying, teetering the edge of his fear of being rejected again. He just needed affection....

Simon’s own eyes softened as he saw the state Price was in. He took a deep breath and pressed his lips together. Giving up on getting out of the embrace, he simply nodded. “Fine. I’m stayin’.”

Carefully, Simon toed off his own shoes and took off his fleece jacket. He tossed everything on the floor haphazardly, before he shifted around the bed in John’s embrace and vaulted over him, coming to lay on the other side of the bed.

John cuddled up to Simon’s body and, tentatively, the blond wrapped his arms around Price’s shoulders and neck as the brunet sunk in the embrace and hid his mustachioed face in Simon’s neck, big burly arms wrapped around the narrower part of his waist.

Price resumed his sobbing, hidden in Simon’s arms, hugging him uncomfortably tight, like a lifeguard buoy in open water.

Simon ran his fingers over John’s hair, caressing his scalp with his fingertips. “Not going anywhere, John, I promise.” Simon assured him.

It’s 10 P.M. and you’re just turning off your TV to move your lounging to the bedroom when the doorbell rings.

Once again, you’re not expecting anyone… But the lads have gotten much better at warning you in advance when they’re dropping by… So it puts you on edge again.

Tip-toeing to the intercom, you murmur into the receiver. “What?”

“It’s John, darling.” The voice of the older man comes through, causing your eyes to widen. What’s he doing here?

You buzz him in all the same. Only once you hear his knuckles rapping the door, do you open it, finding him standing on the other side.

He’s wearing an army green fleece jacket, a black hoodie, tan cargo pants, and black boots. And he doesn’t look particularly happy.

You let him inside and he has the decency to take off his boots, jacket and beanie, before he gestures you both onto the couch.

The memory of the way he kissed you and tossed you both down onto it last time he was here comes flowing back and you look away and take a breath to suppress it.

“The lads told me about the four of you” He tells you as he looks at you, sitting by your side, your knees just barely brushing, his hands clasped together and hanging between his thighs.

“They did?” You ask him, earning a nod in reply. “You didn’t know this whole time?” You ask again.

“No.” He says simply. “And they didn’t tell you I tore ‘em a new one for what they’re doing?” He returns.

You shake your head, which makes him sigh. “Figured as much.”

“You need to know that-”

“I promise I don’t-”

You both cut each other off and blink away the confusion before you do that weird shimmy of trying to let the other talk.

He ends up taking the initiative. “You need to know that it’s puttin’ ‘em all at risk to be seein’ you and each other, especially each other. Simon’s my second-in-command… and it’s against the code of conduct for ‘em to be with their ‘boss’.” He explains.

His explanation makes your eyes soften and you look away with a sigh, mirroring his pose and letting your hands hang between your legs. “I didn’t know it’d get ‘em in trouble…” You explain.

Taking another deep breath, you shift around in your seat. “I was about to say I promise I don’t want to get them in trouble or steal them from work or making you have to call like… dozens of times again to get them to come in, because I know that was bad, even if it was an accident but-” You rant a bit.

John’s watching you closely as you justify yourself and them and promise you have the best of intentions, how you like them all so much and you could never dream of getting them in trouble and…

“What is it about you?” He interrupts you, causing you to face him suddenly and stare at him.

“Pardon?” You ask him, blinking slowly before raising your brows.

“Why… Why them? All of them?” He asks.

Your face scrunches a bit, your brow setting over your eyes. “Are you trying to insult me? That feels insulting.” You grumble.

He sighs and shakes his head, before rubbing his eyes with his middle finger. “No. I- I’m sorry.” He says as earnestly as he can. “Just trying to understand.”

“Some people have a thing for men in uniform but that means they date multiple of ‘em across a number of years… They don’t usually form a… harem with ‘em all at once.” He explains.

The idea of a harem makes your face flush warm and look away. “I don’t know.” You reply directly. “Maybe there’s just something wrong with me.” You say directly.

John keeps staring at you as you speak. “I went from a very unfulfilling relationship, I don’t know if I ever mentioned that to you-”

“You did, at the pub.”

“Right, well…” You trail off. “I went from that to… being alone… and then to having a one-night stand with you and then… it was like I woke up one day and had three boyfriends.” You remark and scratch your arm awkwardly.

John’s face scrunches, his mouth disappearing beneath his mustache as he keeps looking at you closely, noticing how awkward you seem.

“I really don’t want to get them in trouble…” You tell him as you glance up at him, the corners of your eyebrows lowering as you look at him.

He goes quiet for a moment, simply making eye contact with you, as if trying to read your intentions through your pupils.

Then, his hand reaches across the space between you and he gently cups both your hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You really like ‘em all, don’t you?”

“Mhm.” You reply and nod.

Sighing, he nods. “Just try to keep from kissing in public to a minimum, will ya? Don’t need the brass knowing and having my arse too.” He tells you.

Smiling and chuckling again. “Wouldn’t you, in that case, be in more trouble because you started this whole thing?” You joke.

He nudges your thigh with his knee and rolls his eyes playfully. “Don’t you start, too… I already had to deal with Soap, Gaz and Ghost making comments.” He complains.

“Oh, please… Ghost told me all about how peppy you seemed after that night you spent with me.” You retort and he rolls his eyes again before he taps his thighs with his palms and stands up off the couch.

“I needed it. Did me good.” He replies as he moves back to the door and puts his shoes on.

You follow after him, watching him closely as he puts his outdoor clothes back on. “Did me good too.” You reply.

He chuckles a bit. “Oh, trust me, darlin’, I remember fully well how ‘good’ I did you.” He jokes and winks at you.

“Oh, shut it…” You grumble as you watch him open your door and stand just outside of it, looking at you closely.

“Shame it’ll never happen again. I could’ve used a repeat.” John quips casually. “Have a goodnight.” He kisses your temple and starts walking down the hall.

“Wait, hold on!” You interrupt him, causing him to stop a few feet away, looking at you in the brightly lit hall. Clearing your throat, you swallow dryly before you lock eyes with him and speak again: “What’s stopping it from happening again?”

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

FLASHBACK FULLY INSPIRED BY:

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x price #john price x reader #Spotify

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peachesofteal · 8 months

Note

Very curious about the aftermath of darling having to explain why they lied about taking the suppressants— would they refuse to say anything? Or during their heat would Simon & Johnny contact their doctor for something— maybe if darlings fever was higher than it should be— and found out a bit what happened to them when they were younger because they’re their medical proxy.

🖤

Takes place after this / thank you to @ghostlythunderbird for her help!

18+ MDNI / dead disco omegaverse au / cock warming / mature themes

Simon leans over the tub, fingers swirling through the extremely hot water while you whimper and gasp against Johnny’s chest, mouth half open, nearly asleep astride his lap.

“Alpha.” You whine when he shifts, face burrowed against his skin.

“I’ve got ye, darling. I’m here.” He smoothes a hand up and down your back, soothing you, all while trying not to grit his teeth too loud.

He’s teetering on the edge, cock hard again inside your body, recovered from earlier when he finally took you as Simon soaped you clean.

Simon spreads his fingers across the the small of your back, dripping water droplets up your spine before twisting a bunch of your hair into a clip to keep it from getting wet. You’d be mad if you weren’t out of your mind in a heat haze, and your hair got wet outside of a wash day.

“Johnny.” You whimper, and the Alpha’s hand disappears beneath the water in response, patting your hip and pressing his lips to gland to settle you.

Simon really wants to pluck you from the tub and spread you to wide on the bathroom floor. He wants to spread towels out to prevent your skin from being chilled and then lay you on your back, wants to fuck his come deep into your womb until you’re gushing with it, until it takes. It’s the same way Johnny felt, when you were sitting on his lap, bouncing with your desperation, crying in need for him to fill you.

If he was in a rut, no one would have even made it to the bathroom. He would have already bred you, already fucked you full of his seed and plugged it.

But he’s not. And he’s not the one in the tub right now either, so he has to attend to the other things. Just as important, not as much fun.

“A-alpha please.” You gasp, eyes wide and teary and Johnny nods, pressing a thumb against your bottom lip, and starting back up a deep, harmonic purr in hopes of getting you back to sleep.

“I know, I know.” He coos.

Simon bends, swallowing Johnny’s lips, kissing him lazily, indulging in his pants and gasps as you tighten around him. You push at Simon’s shoulder, face screwed up in irritation, and he chuckles softly before kissing you sweetly, long and deep until you’re whining for him to get in the tub behind you.

Now that they’ve started, you’ll only stop for food and rest, and getting you to eat and drink will be a challenge in itself. Everything is shifting, your unease, distress has faded away to your instincts, your drive to be bred by them, and they’ll spend the rest of your heat giving you everything you need, soothing you and praising you, comforting you and making you feel safe, satisfying and taking care of you. They’ll flood you with their DNA, their hormones, their pheromones, completing the cycle over and over until it passes.

Simon relishes it. He loves caring for you with or without your designation, loves the idea of growing their family, of him or Johnny fucking you full of themselves until you’re swelling with their baby. It’s instinct, and primal, but so, so much more with you. You’re not just some Omega… you’re theirs. Their darling. You’ve always been theirs.

Which is why he can’t stay in the bathroom, even though he dearly wants to.

Your fingers latch onto his forearm when he pulls away, and he folds you farther into Johnny, until his mouth is above your gland and he’s licking, distracting you enough for Simon to slip away.

“Her last prescription was written six months ago, but it was a lower dosage, preparing for the weaning off time frame.” The kitchen knife slows to a stop in the middle of the apple he’s cutting, and he places it down to hold the phone firmly in his hand.

“Sorry, you said… six months?” His heart thunders in his ears. Six months? Half a year? He struggles to get a handle on the ache in his soul when he thinks about you struggling for so long, without them even knowing.

The doctor sighs.

“She was advised to inform you, to see if your work schedules could be adjusted for her heats. After being on suppressants for so long, they were anticipated to be more intense, more debilitating.”

“I- I don’t understand. Why did she come off the suppressants?”

“The long term use of suppressants have had negative impacts on her body… did she not tell you?” His stomach twists.

“No, she… failed to mention. We came home to her in the beginning of a heat but, she wasn’t herself. She was self soothing, we’re very concerned.”

“As you’re aware, yourself and Mr. MacTavish are listed as medical proxy… I can email an encrypted chart with her medical information if you’d like.” He grimaces. You’re going to be so pissed, so bloody heated when you come out of this and realize they’ve trampled all over your boundaries in this way but what else can he do?

“Alright, that will work fine.”

He reads the file alone. He doesn’t think it appropriate, to read it with Johnny while you’re practically attached to him, even though that makes him feel guilty too.

But he can’t run the risk of upsetting you, not when they finally got you settled and comfortable.

So, he opens it on the couch. It’s a massive file, as he expects most Omega’s are, considering their unique genetic needs, complicated endocrine systems and of course, reproductive health needs.

He finds the chart notes from your appointment, six months ago.

“-advised pt that stopping suppressants should be considered due to impact in pheromone production and reproductive health. Advised pt that continued long term use may have permanent effects. Pt stated she understood, agreed to start next month with a lower dosage to wean off.”

He scrolls, to a visit from last year. It’s fairly standard, mentions of blood work and labs, appropriate levels and other medical jargon, but something sticks out.

“-pt inquired if it was possible to successfully bite and bond without a heat. Informed pt it was not advised.”

Why were you asking about bites? You’d never expressed interest in that to them before… you had always told them you were happy the way things were. That you didn’t need a bond to be theirs, just like you didn’t need a heat. He’s still frowning when a note from your visit three years ago jars him.

“-pt advised she feels she’s in a safe, healthy relationship, and would consider coming off suppressants. Previous feral state symptoms have seemed to completely dissipate. Pt seems happy and very healthy. I advised I feel it would be safe if she did come off her suppressants if she chose.”

Feral? Feral state?

“Oh, darling.” He murmurs. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

He scrolls farther, eyes scanning through years and years of visits, going much farther back since they’ve known you, until he finds an intake form from a hospital, when you only 16 years old.

His heart stops in his chest.

“-female Omega brought in with the group who was rescued from the trafficking ring. Fluctuates between catatonia and feral state. No bites or bonds, gland intact. Unable to verbalize her name, or memories. Started on sedative drip until specialist arrives.”

#peaches asks #peaches writes #dead disco omegaverse au #ghost x soap x reader

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sugawaraxo · 2 years

Text

cried during sex

warnings: suggestive content + fluff

characters: shoto todoroki, katsuki bakugo, hitoshi shinso

synopsis: how they react to you crying during sex

a/n: surprise :)

shoto todoroki

• freezes, literally

• his whole body tenses and he reflexively frosts over the sheets underneath his hands

• he’s confused and worried that he hurt you

• almost starts crying with you

• almost

you didn’t have time to process what was happening to you until you were already in the midst of breaking down. shoto was so gentle with you, so meticulous with every stroke of his body against yours. the way his eyes stayed locked on yours the entire time. you’ve had sex before, this wasn’t your first time. but it was your first time with him. the first time you felt seen as more than an object for someone’s pleasure. the first time you felt like someone was touching you because they truly cared for you and wanted you to feel good. in fact so good it made you cry. not simple dismissible tears that could be wiped away as though they were never there, you’d wished that was all it had been. no you full on sobbed, body convulsed, shallow breathed, sobbed and despite all your efforts, you couldn’t stop. shoto halted mid-thrust, you felt him accidentally freeze the sheets beneath you in the process. the lustful gaze you were just lost in now morphed into one of worry.

“shit, y/n? are you ok? did i hurt you? why didn’t you say something? i’m so sorry. shit.” he panicked before disconnecting your bodies. he then pulled you into a hug, your ear pressed to his chest with his hand cupped around the back of your head, the other draped around your torso. his heart was racing abnormally fast and you knew if you continued to stay silent his heart might actually have stopped working.

“n-no you didn’t hurt me, at all. the exact opposite actually. it’s just i, it’s stupid.” you stopped yourself, choking down the embarrassing words that threatened to spill out.

“it’s not stupid, especially if it’s enough to make you cry. what happened? you can talk to me.” shoto reassured you and you teetered dangerously close to tearing up again.

“you care. about me. and it’s so genuine and pure the way you show it and, i don’t know. that’s overwhelming i guess. because no one i’ve cared for in the way i care for you has ever truly reciprocated it…until now. that plus you literally reaching parts of me i didn’t know could be reached was a lot to handle i guess.”

he chuckled at that, the rumble of the small laugh echoed in your ear that was still rested against his chest. he began stroking your hair. you hadn’t noticed how tight his grip on you was until he loosened up. his heart rate slowed.

“if it makes you feel any better, i almost cried too.”

you pulled away from his grasp and playfully hit his chest, “shut up. you don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

his eyes locked on yours in the same way they did before your body betrayed you.

“i wouldn’t lie to you.”

you smiled at the sincerity behind his words.

“then i apologize for almost dragging you down this emotional well with me, won’t happen again” you laughed softly.

“it can happen whenever you need it to, i don’t mind.”

all you could do was smile. he was so patient and sweet and that overwhelming feeling was back, yet this time something was different. you leaned in to kiss him. you figured that in this moment it’d be better to show him through your actions how you were feeling instead of summing it up with sappy words. he obliged eagerly, wasting no time to finish things from where you two left off.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

katsuki bakugo

• doesn’t really notice until he hears your soft sniffles

• he just assumes your eyes were watering from how good it felt

• wouldn’t be the first time

• but when you cover your face, sniffling as you try to block him from seeing what was happening

• he realizes

“y/n?” his breath hitched and he tore your hands away from your face so quickly it was almost humorous.

“are you crying? why are you crying?” the deep look of confusion and fear settled on his face did make you laugh which confused him even further.

“what the hell is going on with you? say something.” his eyes scanned your face frantically and you could tell he found none of this funny, he was genuinely worried and you weren’t doing anything to ease his nerves.

“sorry sorry, i don’t know why i’m crying kats. well i do but, i don’t want to say it. i’m scared to say it.” you admitted before you hid behind your hands once more.

“scared? what is there to be scared of, i’m here y/n. just tell me.” his voice sounded almost desperate, like he was anticipating the worst news of his life and your heart dropped.

“it’s nothing bad, i promise. i…i love you. like a lot. like an inexplicable amount. and today was perfect, you’re perfect. i’m just overly emotional about it all.”

that was the first time you’d ever said ‘i love you.’ he had said it once before but you weren’t ready to say it back, too guarded and still healing from past wounds to trust that he actually meant it. but today he proved that he did beyond anything you’d ever imagined. he planned a date for you that felt like it was snatched straight out of your dreams, his attention to detail and all the small things you’ve ever told him was impeccable. and then this, being physically as close as your bodies would allow you. it was perfect. he was perfect.

“i love you too y/n, more than you’ll probably ever know. but if you ever need to cry while i’m balls deep inside you again, can you please start with the fact that it’s nothing bad? i think my heart almost stopped.”

you laughed and he smiled, that smile that made you fall for him months ago.

“sorry kats, i think i know how i can make it up to you though.” you suggested before trailing your way down his body until your mouth hovered above his now semi-hard length. without any hesitation you took it expertly in your mouth and down your throat.

“god, i fucking love you.” he groaned.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

hitoshi shinso

• slows his pace and wipes your tears

• he asks you if you want him to stop

• but you say no, that’s the last thing you want

• so he reluctantly continues, wiping each tear from your cheeks as he does so

shinso’s strokes were deep yet slow and he had this expression on his face that you couldn’t quite decipher. pleasure mixed with something else. probably concern. you could tell he was worried because of the way he kept wiping your tears from your face. he would occasionally hunch down to kiss them away and your heart fluttered each time. he had asked you twice if you wanted to stop but you insisted that he kept going, you didn’t want to ruin this good moment. but you could tell his head was swarming with questions and felt it was unfair to keep him in the dark. you placed a hand on his lower abdomen indicating for him to stop. he did just that, eagerly waiting for you to say something. anything.

“i’ve had a completely shit week shinso. but when i’m with you it’s like every bad thing is nonexistent. those weren’t sad tears, sometimes it just happens when we, you know. usually i’m better at hiding it though.” you confessed.

“oh, so you’re not mad at me or anything?” he asked and his voice cracked a little almost as though he himself was about to cry prior to your explanation.

“no baby. not at all. not even close.”

“good. well i’m glad you’re ok, i hate seeing you cry. but weirdly, knowing that they weren’t sad tears makes it kind of endearing.” shinso admitted.

“i’m glad you think so because i genuinely can’t control it, it happens every time. like i said, i’m usually just better at hiding it.” you laughed lightly.

“it’s ok if you can’t hide it. i’ll just keep wiping them away for you, and besides, you look so pretty when you cry.” shinso smiled before he thrusted into you again.

the waterworks were almost instant, but as he insisted he would be, shinso was there to wipe your tears away.

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celestialwhoree · 1 month

Note

hi😊

I’m just wondering if you’d write something…? It’s okay if you don’t want to!

I was wondering about ghost or könig….maybe soap with a crybaby!partner? Like, I’m a very emotional person, I cry easily and I have really bad anxiety and self image issues. So I was just kind of wondering if like, they did something, maybe like touched them or something and then the reader bursts into tears because it feels good or they’re self conscious…?

I’m so sorry if I make u uncomfortable, it was no intention of mine :(

This is so me pookie💕 I loovelovelovelove confused buff military men X total emotional wreck partners 🤭🫶 not self indulgent at all

You've gotten really good at working out when you're going to have a bad day. That heavy feeling weighs heavy on your shoulders from the moment you sit up in bed. The sickly lump in your throat chokes you up - makes you swallow down the glass of water left on the nightstand last night to wash it down. It's become so predictable, so routine.

Even your comfiest clothes feel too tight today. The waistband of your jeans constricts you, and the sleeves of your sweater are just short enough that you can't pull them comfortably over your hands. The lights in the grocery store are too bright and the crackly loudspeakers play some catchy new song you hate. All of your comfort foods are out of stock. You even work up the nerve to ask an employee if they've moved around the baking section (which they very clearly have, seeing as your safe haven of cookie cutters and chocolate chips is no longer on aisle four) only to be met with a dirty look and a shrug.

By the time Simon gets home, you're practically at breaking point. None of your go-to self soothing methods had worked, and the day only seemed more intent on breaking you with every attempt you'd made to ease yourself down from the emotional cliff edge you'd been teetering on. You'd hoped that you would've sorted yourself out by the time his car rolled into the driveway - prancing into the hall with a smile and a kiss to greet him - not slumped on the couch watching some rerun episode of Real Housewives. Your lack of enthusiasm only serves to make you feel even worse.

He's so quick to drop his work bag, striding into the lounge to capture your cheeks in his palms and press a long, loving kiss on your lips. The moment he feels wetness on his cheeks, he stills. "Hey." Simon coos, keeping your face in his grasp as silent tears dribble down your cheeks. "Hey hey hey. Wha's wrong?" The soft concern in his tone only makes you sniffle quietly, trying to avoid his eye. "M' sorry." You murmur, feeling less like something to be worried about, more like a burden. "Why're you sorry? No reason to apologise t'me."

Simon settles on the couch beside you as he gives you a minute to find your words. "Just.." It's impossible not to lean into his palm when he wipes the salty tears from your ruddy cheeks. "Dunno, just overwhelmed today I guess." You shrug defeatedly as Simon scoops you up, pulling you into his side. "Tha's alright." He reassures, stroking his fingers through your hair. "Nothing wrong with having a bit of a day, yeah? We all do." "You don't." You grumble, huffing at how good he is at bringing you down. "Yeah I do. Only difference is that you actually let people see it." "Don't wanna be a burden." The sound of your voice is muffled by the soft, worn cotton of his hoodie. "You're not a burden. You're fucking lovely. Jus' have big feelings sometimes is all."

The comforting rumble of his words has you melting into him, zoning out into the comfort of his presence. "You want a takeaway?" You hum absently in response, finally allowing your shoulders to drop and your mind to wander as he pulls out the menu from your favourite Thai restaurant.

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thefearedashantis · 3 months

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Garlic Toast and Bloody Noses

Pairing: Sirius Black x SAHM! Reader (stay at home mom)

Summary: Your eldest daughter got in trouble at school and Sirius is livid.

Word count: 3.1K

Warning: None (if you think it needs one lmk)

Emmerson is cranky, per usual. You weren’t sure how long a two-year-old could cry before tiring themselves out, but he was surely going for the record.

Nothing you did soothed him. Rocking, singing, a stroll around the block. He didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to play. He didn’t want to sleep. The reasoning for his upset was simple enough. One you’d figured out shortly after he was born.

He hated you. Detested. Loathed. Abhorred. As much as the very idea broke your heart.

From the moment he took his first breathe he despised your very presence. Would absolutely scream his little head off until Sirius, or anyone really, rescued him from your grasp. Only then from the comfort of his fathers’ arms would he calm, then turn back to stare at you accusingly with watery eyes.

Well, his father wasn’t home at the moment, and you stare at the clock praying for the minutes to go by quicker. School and extracurricular activities having ended, Sirius and your other two children should be walking through the front door any second.

Your husband would enter your home silently, tuckered out from a long day. He’d take off his shoes and hang up his coat. Round the couch and lean down to peck you gently at the corner of your lips before prying your son from your arms. Wrestling his fat hands loose of your hair which he never failed to get an ironclad grip on. Then you’d stow away in the bathroom for a few quiet minutes after saying hello to your girls. Just to give yourself a little pep talk and allow the headache pulsing behind your eyes to recede. Give yourself some much-needed reassurance that this behaviour couldn’t last forever. At some point he’d warm up to you.

He had to, right?

You’re wretched from your thoughts at the slam of the front door. Followed by a gust of air whisking by you where you were slumped in the living room, thunderous footsteps banging up the stairs. Another door slams in the distance.

From the brief glimpse at the back of a muddy soccer uniform you know it must be Amelia, and that fact has you up on your feet in a panic. Because just as your youngest scorned your existence your eldest adored you. If she wasn’t at school she was virtually glued to your hip. She would never come home without stopping to throw herself at you like you’d been apart for an eternity.

Something was wrong.

You’ve barely placed Emmy into his playpen, a rigorous tussle, and taken a step into the hall when a small body crashes into your middle. Your kindergartner. Backpack, coat and shoes still on.

“Mom!”

“Claire!” you try to match her enthusiasm.

“I’m hungry” she mumbles against your stomach, arms squeezing you tight.

“I made your favourite snack. It’s on the counter for you.”

Sirius appears in the archway just as Claire scurries away. He’s in a flurry, making long strides in the direction of the stairs without so much as acknowledging you. “You get back down here right now young lady!” His voice all but shakes the house, sending your heart scuttling into your throat. Sirius never raises his voice, especially not when angry. Sirius was hardly ever angry to begin with.

Your hand shoots out to grab at him before he can get too far, pulling him to a harsh stop. “Whoa, whoa whoa! What’s going on?”

“Lia got in a fight at school!” Claire calls from the kitchen.

And he’s teetering on you, trying to get you to let him go.

“What? Why didn’t you call me? What’s happened, is she alright?”

“I’d say she’s doing better than Isaac!” Now he’s moving, circling to the other end of the room, dragging you along with him. “I mean parents trust me to look after and teach their children! How does it seem when I can’t even discipline my own? She’s old enough to know not to hit others!”

Sirius was the music teacher at the local elementary school. The one both of your daughters attended. That being the case he usually handled anything pertaining to the girls while on the premises. Didn’t mean you were out of the loop however. If one got so much as a scratch on the playground you were sent a text about it. For the entire day to have elapsed without him informing you on what had happened was odd.

“Sirius” you release his arm in favour of his face, rubbing at the space between his nape and ear in a manner you knew he found soothing “Honey, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”

But your attempts to pacify him prove worthless when his roaming eyes finally snap to yours with a steely coldness that has a chill running up your spine. You see none of the sticky affection you’re accustomed to within them. Nothing but distaste. There was no questioning Emmy’ parentage with that gaze.

“I told you the haircut wasn’t a good idea.”

Haircut? Was he still upset about that all these weeks later?

“What’s her hair have to do with anything?”

His eyes roll so hard you fear they’ll be lost in the back of his head. He shakes out of your hold. “Because you undermine me with every little thing when it comes to her! I try to put my foot down and you immediately slag it off!”

“It’s her hair Sirius. She wanted it short and you couldn’t give a good enough reason why she shouldn’t be allowed to have it that way.”

Emmy has finally gone quiet in his play pen. Standing and peeking over the edges at the two of you, gaze flitting back and forth like a ping pong ball whenever someone speaks. Probably wondering why his beloved father hasn’t come to pick him up yet.

“Because she looks like a boy!” Sirius throws his hands up, looking to the sky for some sort of backup he would not be receiving. “She already dresses like a boy, you’ve let her chop all her hair off and now she’s running around getting into trouble like some little delinquent!” With every word his face gets more and more red, voice trembling with raging effort.

You can’t seem to find anything to say for a long moment, just watching him breathe in and out in desperate rags. A minute passes, then two. When he manages to catch his breath and stumble over to the couch you follow closely behind. Leaning down near his ear so you won’t have to speak above a whisper.

“First of all Black, I don’t know who you’re speaking to in that tone but I suggest you check it, right now. Her hair and the way she dresses are nobody’s business but her own and they don’t make her a boy.” The fact those words could even leave his mouth after the childhood he had baffled you “And second I think you should stop and reevaluate the way you talk about your daughter, especially while she’s right upstairs to hear you.”

He turns his head. You’re so far into his space that your noses almost brush but you don’t back away. You would always stand firm when it came to your children. The one’s you two created and set out to raise together in the loving and supporting environment neither of you had gotten growing up.

“Are you guys arguing?”

You straighten up at the squeak of Claire’s question. She stands behind the couch with a slight frown on her round face. Her snack of garlic toast held between two hands.

“No darling of course not,” a smile splits your expression for good measure “why don’t you come with me to check on Lia while Daddy says hello to Emmy hm?”

Claire is not convinced “sounded like arguing.”

You’re at the base of the stairs, swatting the girl up them, when Sirius calls back in a very small manner “I’m sorry.”

He appears more like himself now, the love of your life. Thin, long limbed, warm eyes with a hint of melancholy. Deflated of his anger and replenished with his token skittish composure.

“When I come back there will be no more yelling.”

He nods, and you’re off to discover the root of this grand affair.

Claire stands outside of Lia’ closed door when you arrive. Shifting from foot to foot as if nervous to go in. You reach over her and rap on the sticker covered wood with a firm knuckle. There’s no answer but you turn the knob and enter anyway.

The room is dark, lights off and curtains drawn. The only illumination comes from the device set up on the bedside table that projects stars and planets onto the ceiling. A balled-up form rests in the very corner of the bed, back to you, arms slung over the head.

“Is she crying?” Claire whispers. Well, her version of whispering. Which was just her regular speaking volume but slower.

“No.” Lia grinds out. She twists herself around so you can see her face. She wasn’t crying but she surely had been if the red of her eyes were evidence enough.

You make your way over to the bed, posting yourself up against the headboard. Claire opts to sit at the bottom, gazing up at the light show.

“Want to tell me what happened at school today?”

“Can I sit in your lap?”

Despite the circumstances a warm fuzzy feeling seeps throughout your chest, always happy to indulge in some physical affection. Lia is still quite small for her age. She crawls over your legs and slots her body against yours, burrowing as close as she can manage, sticking her nose into the material of your shirt and inhaling deeply. Her dark hair tickles your face. Not long enough for a scrunchy and too short for much other styling. It sticks up in amusing ends from sweat.

Claire must feel left out because she wraps a crummy hand around your socked foot.

“Daddy’s disappointed in me,” her voice is hoarse and wobbly. She keeps her eyes shut tight while speaking, nose scrunched.

“He’s not, he’s just…unsettled, stressed maybe.”

“Is there a difference?”

To an eight-year-old there might not be.

“Daddy was yelling” comes a whisper snaking up from the end of the bed.

“Be quiet Claire!” Lia tries to shoo the younger girl out of her room but she refuses to go.

“Loudly.” She continues “His face was all red.”

You fight a giggle “Eat your bread Claire bear.”

“Furious” she finishes around the last mouthful of her treat. She’s always been your chatty baby, forever excited for new vocabulary words.

You return your full attention to Amelia “Tell mom what happened bug.”

She doesn’t start immediately, instead relishing in the feeling of your fingers combing through her damp hair for a while. When she does start speaking the story is much worse than you thought it would be.

The boys in class have been bothering her for the last few months.

One in particular who sits directly behind her by the name of Isaac. He is the reason, she confesses, for originally wanting to cut her hair short despite loving the lack of inches now. It was in hopes of deterring him from yanking it by handfuls.

They apparently dislike her always trying to hang around with them and not the girls. Girls belonged with girls and boys belonged with boys as it went. Not allowed to mix. Cooties too easily spread.

They took to stuffing things down the back of her shirt. Swiping her glasses off her face. Shoving her in the lunch line. Ripping the pages out of her notebooks. Pouring glue in her chair. Scratching mean names into her desk. Cornering her during recess while the teachers were distracted and pulling her pants down in front of everyone. Because if she wouldn’t play with the girls then she must be a boy but if she was a boy then they'd need proof.

She tried to tell her homeroom teacher when it first started but the woman didn’t believe her because Isaac is a top student and his family name stood proud on the sign outside of the new gym complex. She must have done something to him to earn such treatment.

“Did you go to your father?”

Lia shakes her head “I started to once but he just told me to try sticking with the girls more.”

“What about me? I thought we didn’t keep secrets between us.”

“You always tell me to be brave and stick up for myself if someone bothers me. I was trying to build up the courage but—” she dissolves into a low whine, struggling to finish around her tears. “I don’t think Daddy likes me.”

Claires eyebrows furrow. Up until then you didn’t think the girl had even been listening “Why would you say that!” she shouts, looking seconds away from bursting into tears herself.

You’re quick to intervene “She doesn’t mean it. Your big sister is just really sad right now.”

“No, I mean it!” Lia insists, sitting up to rub at her eyes “He doesn’t like me! He complains about everything I do!” her head bobbles from side to side as she lists “Sit more lady like. Why don’t you wear any of the dresses grandma bought you. Why don’t you do ballet instead of soccer. Why don’t you grow your hair out like the other girls. Why don’t you have any girl friends”

You take her hands into yours, they’re cold. You feel unprepared to deal with her emotions, she’s so young to even be ruminating over such things. All you want to do is ease her heartache, as her mother. An adult in her life who should have all the answers, but has no clue where to start. What would be saying too much and what would be too little. “Oh, my love, your father had a really hard time growing up with his own dad. He was really strict with him. That’s no excuse for him to take it out on you, but I know he loves you very much”

She deflates back onto your chest “Yeah, but he doesn’t like me.”

She finishes the story.

It was recess. She was climbing up onto the monkey bars and about to go across when Isaac caught her pant leg and tried to yank them down. On instinct she went to kick him off and accidentally struck him in the face.

“I didn’t mean to break his nose. Swear.”

Never in a million years would you think her capable of intentionally hurting some. You placate her with a kiss on the forehead anyway “how about you and mom go out for a treat? Huh? Just the two of us?”

She sniffles in contemplation “Ice cream?”

“Anything you want.”

“Can I come?” Claire crawls her way up to the headboard.

“I’ll bring you back some, but Lia’s had a very bad day and that means what?”

“She needs mommy time?”

“Exactly.”

You ease said girl out of your lap gently, laying her out on the pillows, and promising to be back in five minutes. Then you’d go for her treat.

On your way out of the room you notice Claire scooting closer. She sticks her pointer finger right in her sisters’ face. “Your eyes are puffy.”

The aggravated “Claire!” follows you down the stairs.

In the living room Sirius and Emmy sit in comfortable silence, your husband bouncing the now cheerful baby on his knee. His neck nearly snaps at your approach. Eyes already glassy with regret.

“Is she terribly upset?”

“Heartbroken more like” you say, not bothering to sugarcoat it for him “she thinks you don’t like her.”

He lowers his head in shameful anguish when you sit beside him. “I just, she’s so much like me when I was young.” No friends his own gender. Only interested in things typically deemed non-conforming “the things I went through in school, at home, it pains me to imagine that happening to her.”

How much had she told him of the bullying you wonder and why had he kept it from you. You'd been there for so much of his own struggle that it honestly hurts your feelings that he’d allowed himself to spiral so much without seeking you out. The number of times he showed up on your doorstep in the wee hours of the morning. The cuts and bruises you’d tended, caused over simplicities like nail polish, the length of his hair, the music he listened to. The way he dressed, acted, spoke.

“Ok, but you can’t just force her to change who she is in the name of protecting her. Just because she isn’t the girliest girl out there doesn’t give anyone the right to bully her, not even you. All you’re doing is teaching her that being herself is not ok. Then to go and blow up on her like that. It’s confusing Sirius. You know better.”

You don't say it, wouldn’t ever go that low, but you know he’s thinking it. He’s acting like his father.

Sirius sits with your words.

“Why did she hit him then?”

“She didn’t really. He tried to pull her pants down on the playset so she kicked out. It was an accident.”

“Pull her pants down?”

A fresh wave of anger rolls over his shoulders. You snatch Emmy from his grasp before planting a kiss onto his temple.

“No more of that. Go upstairs and talk to her before we leave.”

You’d get on him later for keeping secrets from you.

Sirius returns the kiss, lingering for a few seconds too long, pressing his nose into the fat of your cheek. He smells like peppermint.

“I love you.” Her murmurs. And you’re suddenly transported back to your childhood bedroom. The sun just creeping over the horizon and spilling through your window right onto his sleeping face. The lips so like Claires’, ears and brows so like Emersons’, freckles like Amelias’. Hovering your finger over the bridge of his nose, skimming along his throat. Blowing gently at his thick lashes. Poking at the sliver of skin peeking out at his tummy where his shirt had risen up. When you’d fall asleep with him on the floor and always wake up to his breath on the back of your neck, legs tangled in bed with you. The fit of giggles sneaking him out the house before your parents woke up.

“Love you too. Now go!”

You’re once again left with Emmy in the exact same place you’d started. He watches Sirius take the stairs two at a time before turning back to you, frown already forming.

“And you my little man, i love you so much.”

#fem reader #female reader #fem!reader #mauraders #mauraders x reader #thefearedashantis #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius black #dad!sirius black #maurauders fanfic #mom!reader #sirius orion black #the marauders era #the marauders #hurt/comfort

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tennessoui · 9 months

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kit's list of obikin fic recs in no particular order

y'all asked and i finally answered.....here's a list of fics i've read and adored this year! note that i've tagged things that i think could squick people (a/b/o dynamics, weird biology, dub con, heavy kink, etc), and i've noted the ratings (explicit, mature, teen), but i have not noted top/bottom (this list contains a pretty even split of both) and i haven’t indicated which are WIPs - take a chance! i've left little paragraphs as to why i liked the fic but i tried to keep spoilers out of them so the story can be a surprise :D

remember to leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed the fic :D

Igneous - zimriya Notes: Explicit, A/B/O dynamics, canon compliant, series!

Trying to find this fic so I could reread it was the thing that prompted me to make this list. That’s how amazing this fic is. It tears out your heart strings. It hurts. I love it. It’s soft. It makes me cry. I am never going to recover from this perfect retelling of canon. This hurts just as much as the kenobi show. I owe this author a medical bill and a thank you card. I don’t care if a/b/o isn’t your thing or omega obi-wan isn’t your thing i need you to try reading this fic i really do because it’s just honestly superb and beautiful prose and i think about some of these lines near daily. Ok, fine. Daily.

I’d Never Be Me (Without The Support of Your Loving Arms) by euryrice Notes: Explicit

i don’t think i’ll ever stop talking or thinking about this fic, it’s up there for me….such a good take on a bond/spy au that I don’t think I’ll ever seriously try at one myself because it’d never be ‘i’d never be me without the support of your loving arms’; it’s just so well thought through. Canon lovingly applied. Kit beautifully moved and hungry for a second part of the series, even though it doesn’t even need a second part and is perfect as a stand alone. Witty banter rating: 10/10

Hooked On You by @whohatessand Notes: Explicit, infidelity, side anidala (padmé is being cheated on)

Dirty bad wrong never felt so good though; Anakin is cheating on his wife with her campaign manager. Anakin is very not satisfied with being a trophy husband, and honestly it’s so valid of him. This is so well-written that Anakin’s frustration with his life, his wife, his duties all feels very real and understandable. Does that excuse the cheating and the spit-as-lube fucking at a donor ball? Nah, but they know it doesn’t. And it ends on a very hopeful obikin note, which is my favorite

The Final Frontier of Pleasure by @jedibongrip Notes: Explicit, bp!Anakin, virginity kink (ish?)

“Just the tip” made into a very hot 2k fic wherein anakin’s definitely not a virgin anymore, but obi-wan’s gonna go along with it if it makes him happy (and means that he gets to keep touching him, god bless); note to say that all of this author’s stuff is very good!

Stars To Fill My Dreams by hidden_humours Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan, dark Anakin

Anakin is teetering on going off the walls insane in this fic and I am so here for it. This is just amazing. I love a padawan obi-wan and I especially love this time-travel with a twist (which I won’t spoil!); the summary even says “yeah this anakin isn’t all there” and the author is right!!! 100%!! I love it. I want to poke this Anakin with a stick. I want to push him off his metaphorical cliff of sanity. I want to push Obi-Wan off a cliff just to see what this Anakin would do. What a fic. What a goddamn fic.

Obi-Two by @virahaus Notes: Explicit, Obi-Wan/Anakin/Obi-Wan

Guys, holy shit I am so excited for this WIP you have no idea. Everything about it is delicious so far. The Obi-Wan that gets zapped back in time just before ROTS/Order 66 is living to see twunk Anakin again and he is so soft yet so commanding about it. Ben!Obi-Wan literally kills me in this fic. If there’s never another chapter, I’m begging you to read this anyway, it’s that good.

Vast as the sea, constant as the tide by @moonlightatnoon Notes: Explicit, pirate!anakin, captain!Obi-Wan

So maybe Kit’s attention was captured and held by the sea-themed title…she’s a simple lady. But this fic is absolutely beautiful. I love the intrigue, the history, the pining of it all. My attention, much like Obi-Wan, was gently captured and held hostage by pirate Anakin and the way he’s like ‘my obi-wan <3 mine <3’ while also being a whole ass pathetic lil mew mew of a pirate. He is so possessive and fearsome and clingy and needy I love this Anakin and how much he needs his Obi-Wan. I love the ending especially! Beautifully done.

Buns of Steel by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, humor, himbos the both of them

Put this under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love the humor here (Rag has such a legendary way with a great turn of phrase and pacing of jokes that just makes the fic fly by) and the ridiculousness of it all. Obi-Wan here is extremely lovably bitchy and I adore it. His dialogue is quite polite, but this is a fic where the narration really makes the characterization pop. Also the amount of lusting after his beautiful aerobics instructor that Obi-Wan does…and how UNFAIR he finds Anakin’s beauty. Just amazing. Cheering for Obi-Wan living his best life and getting the hot aerobics instructor in the end.

My Thoughts I Confess (Verge On Dirty) by @artemisthehuntress Notes: Explicit, horny, horny, horny Obi-Wan

This is, of course, the other fic filed under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love Anakin in booty shorts. I love Obi-Wan, head empty and no thoughts because his dick is too goddamn hard to see straight. One should not be exercising under such conditions. The humor here is impeccable. Love all of Obi-Wan’s fantasies with the hot guy working out next to him. If you’re a fan of horny-grip Obi-Wan, this is the fic for you! If you’re not as into horny-grip Obi-Wan, I’d say this fic is still worth the read because it’s just written so well.

just like the days we’d burn by @travellingcircus Notes: Explicit, PTSD mentions, heavy

I was always going to rec one of travellingcircus’ fics of course. They are a fantastic writer and I love their fics - especially the long oneshots that consume my entire night when I see that one’s been posted and I get to delve into a new side of obikin I could never imagine. This fic is one of my favorites by them – and maybe one of my favorite modern aus all together. Anakin has a racing career until he has an accident. Then he goes back to his small town and decides to have Obi-Wan instead because first love (I love first love fics especially in modern aus)!! Also Obi-Wan has a motorbike. This is excellent news. He also has helmet hair. I love Anakin in this fic so much. He’s crazy. He’s wounded. He’s obsessed. He’s in love. He’s desperate. And Anakin makes Obi-Wan all these things too. Such a good modern au for these characters. They feel so close to their canon characters, it’s marvelous.

Where Every Mask Cracks by skyl_tales Notes: Explicit, a spin-off of one of their other fics, but can be standalone

Skyl_tales’ fics for me are the very definition of fandom classic. They were the first fics I read and I continue to reread them roughly maybe once every year at least. They’re just all very readable. The writing style is something I have always loved and envied – their fics are approachable and entertaining, no matter how much you know or don’t know about Star War at the time of your reading. Tbh I think this is the fic author who has influenced my writing the most! I love this fic in particular because I do have a soft spot for vaderwan. Old Ben being delightfully torn up over Vader and Vader being delightfully unhinged about his former master…..with a magical fix-it device that restores both of them to their younger, strongest selves (if only to make the fucking easier and the horny insatiable)

Gay Chicken by zimriya Notes: Explicit, enemies to lovers, light daddy kink

Where to begin with this fic!!! I guess I cannot stress enough how much I love humor in fics when done right and this is done so well. Like it is literally so funny and so normal. There is something so beautiful about putting these space monk superheroes into like. Just situations. This fic is about laundry. But also upstairs neighbors. But also lost loves??? I’m always a bit hesitant for fics with a lot of notes/messages, because I can find that hard to read, but this was very, very easy to read, both format-wise and flow of the story wise. I love them both being assholes to each other. Love them slowly becoming friends through notes under the monikers “501” and “212”. LOVE the twist.

wildest dreams by kidhuzural Notes: Explicit, 5+1 fic

Basically: Baby Anakin wants to get married to Obi-Wan. Teenager padawan Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Clone Wars Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wants to marry Clone Wars Anakin. I love love love fics that start out with baby padawan Anakin and have him grow up. It places so much emphasis on their master&padawan relationship and how important they were to each other before AOTC or TCW, which I think is the strongest basis for obikin. Also this Anakin is just so cute and Obi-Wan cares for his baby padawan so much!! All in all, this fic is just so sweet. Obsessed.

In Pursuit of Cold Water by @jswander Notes: Mature, Merman!Anakin

Can I have a fic rec list that doesn’t include this fic?? I love this fic. I think I reread it like twenty times while waiting for the last chapter, and it was worth it and gripping and incredible each time. I am fascinated by writers who can worldbuild, and Jo worldbuilds so well in this mermaid AU. I love the descriptions of their fins; the possessiveness, the hurt, the anger, the jadeness, and the naivete of Anakin somehow all existing in the same character and all being so justified. There’s some really heavy moments and also really silly moments (they dress Anakin up as an old lady to avoid detection at one point). I love the development of their relationship and especially the growth of their mental bond. Such a good translation of their Force bond in canon (and such a clever work-around for a mermaid not speaking English!) Just an amazing fic. So good.

The Devil’s In The Details by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, demon Anakin, darker!Anakin (because of the demon bit)

Back at it again with my Rag-writing obsession! I’m loving this WIP and how evil and innocent Anakin is. Yeah, he’s a demon haunting Obi-Wan’s new house; yeah, he’s killed like. A ton of people. But he’s so pathetic. So very eager to please. So very attractive. As a reader, you’re like Obi-Wan’s friend, Quinlan, who discovers Obi-Wan sleeping with a literal demon, and you’re like ‘bestie, do you not know? That’s a literal demon?’ and obi-wan is like ‘he is quite polite and does so good on our walks around town’ and you’re like ‘you’re taking him on walks???’ but also you can’t help but root for demon Anakin and poor decision-maker Obi-Wan. Also, once again, I love Rag’s humor and timing of it. The narration Obi-Wan has is so colorful and so fucking funny, I snort all the time. He’s such a bitch. He’s amazing.

By Omission by @posthumousvigor Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan au, drunk sex

This writer is very quickly becoming one of my favorites. I love their prose and the way they write Obi-Wan—especially padawan!Obi-Wan with Master Anakin. One of my favorite dynamics for obikin aus, and this writer gives me so much good food. TBH one of my all-time favorite cliches/tropes is one of them getting dressed up out of their Jedi robes to be put in Situations, and I especially love this for Obi-Wan cause Anakin got a whole movie of dressing up for funsies, and this fic delivers. Master Skywalker comes back early from a mission to find his padawan slutting it up in the Lower Levels, and what is a man to do other than snap?? And he snaps so beautifully in this fic. I love it when they’re horny beyond reason for each other.

how to stay by answersinahauntedclub Notes: Explicit, professor/student relationship

I know logically that this fic probably will not update again, but it is so beautiful and I think about it all the time. It is like. The peak of college/university aus in this fandom. Bold statement, I know, but I love this fic and characterization so much that I am stating it. They’re both disasters. They can’t resist each other even if they really, really should. It’s an incredible read and I am fascinated by both this Obi-Wan and this Anakin. Cannot stress enough the lovable disasters that they are. In writing this, I took an hour break and reread it again.

we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by @obiwaned Notes: Teen, fake/pretend relationship

Getting this update notification felt like such a sweet sweet win for me. I loved the premise as soon as I read it and it just keeps getting better. Fake marriage for any reason is always amazing. I also LOVE non-linear timelines and this writer does it so well because you as the reader don’t get lost and confused trying to keep the timeline straight. It’s delectable, it’s straightforward, it’s so easy to devour, and I am obsessed with this fic and even the possibility of more.

Self-Insert by ZenyZootSuit Notes: Teen, crack

God this is so funny in a very crack way. Short and funny and perfect. Darth Vader writes self-insert fanfiction about being with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Darth Sidious finds out. Imperial secrets are leaked, but I’m sure those were important details he needed to include!! For context! Realism! Absolutely perfect; no notes.

Open Circle by Calyss Note: Explicit, Dark Obi-Wan, dom/sub (under)tones, seduction to the Dark side

This is also one of my annual rereads, and one of my absolute favorite Sith Obi-Wans in the fandom. I love how out of control this sith Obi-Wan is, how very obsessed with just Anakin he is. Sith Obi-Wan really said “he’s mine” and he’s gonna destroy Anakin’s marriage and the whole galaxy to prove it. And also Anakin is not going to say no or resist much at all because that’s his master and he loves him and has weird feelings for him he has not really examined. This is also such an id fic of mine. But no regrets putting it on the list. When I saw it updated in October 2022, I literally cleaned my room and improved my life before I sat down to read it.

How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by @sharpest-tongue Notes: Mature, Post Kenobi show

So many amazing fics came out of the Kenobi show but this absolutely has to be one of my favorites. There’s humor, there’s touching moments, there’s Star Wars lingo I didn’t know but that made the whole thing feel very much in-universe (and that I have now incorporated into my Star Wars Wikipedia slash Dictionary for later use, even if it’s all made up). I love a time travel fic, has to be said, and this one delivers perfectly. The Jedi as family in this fic really made me emotional. Extra special shout out to Obi-Wan, raising his padawan again in a do-over, and thinking, ‘i was not this bad as a teenager wtf?? Yeah ok whatever i MAY have fought in TWO WARS at that age but still!!!’ love him. Love his obvious blind spots for anakin and also for himself. Such a good fic!!!

broken bones, thunder drums by @maragny Notes: Teen, hurt/comfort

There is so much to love about this fic and I love it all. Clone War fics are like my bread and butter in this fandom. I love obikin fics that take place in the middle of battle where the reader is confronted with the reality of either Anakin or Obi-Wan fighting – and this fic really starts by throwing you into the action in such a visceral, effective way that I was stressed! I was gripped! It makes Anakin hiding his injury feel not only understandable but also like the only option. Good think Obi-Wan is there to save the day and help Anakin through his pain because he is overprotective and in love with him. Also the first chapter is told from Rex’s point of view, which just. One of my favorite outsider POVs for obikin is Rex.

no news is good news by @rhymenoceros Notes: Mature, crack, relationship reveal, breaking news/news cycle format

This fic is so funny! The tone is perfect for what the writer sets out to do — that is, make the reader feel like they’re caught up in a social media news cycle! There’s talk shows, there’s paparazzi, there’s space reddit, there’s leaked Jedi text conversations….the Jedi screen names are hilarious and easy to tell who is who while still staying true to the joke. Cannot recommend this fic enough. Cute, funny, horny, and with that sweet sweet Palpatine downfall that the best cracky fics always have.

Falling Deep Into You by @dark--whisperings Notes: Explicit, dom/sub tones, so much pining

Any fic that has the tag “Obi-Wan Kenobi is a freak in bed” has my attention and my interest. This writer describes Anakin subbing and Obi-Wan domming so very beautifully that it’s almost a manifesto in 8k. Lots of good sex here, but I really love the opening scene and the push and pull the writer’s given the characters. They want each other so much—Obi-Wan wants so much, but alas! Religious guilt on par with catholicism! Of course the nasty freaky sex fiend in Obi-Wan wins out over the Jedi Master, but I really enjoyed the guilt and the way he gives in and goes to find Anakin because of course he does. And then the ending! A resetting of the chess board so that the game can start over tomorrow. A great fic all in all!

you took my love so tenderly by @billboguspreston & @acrylicsalts-inspo Notes: Explicit, prince/guard dynamic, exhibitionism

I started reading this fic when it was first posted, and I followed it attentively and with baited breath. I love the reverse age dynamic (I know, it’s not for everyone, but I lovelovelove it), and I love that this Obi-Wan is such a spitfire. He knows what he wants and that’s for his silent, restrained, older, handsome bodyguard to snap and fuck him and he WILL brat his way into getting what he wants as is his right. Anakin being both incredibly horny (Anakin horny-gripping the pommel of his sword because Obi-Wan has decided to get off right in front of him to see if he can tempt him into fucking him) is amazing. Obi-Wan being both the aggressor and also the inexperienced one is chef’s fucking kiss and a dynamic I do not see often enough. So worth the read. And there may be more sequels??? Be still my beating heart!

I Wanna Be Owned by @kyberkenobi Notes: Explicit, 5+1 things, light BDSM

Speaking of horny grip lol, I had to think for a bit about which fic from this writer to choose because all of them are very good and very very smutty with all sorts of kinks and dynamics. The writer you go to for mean dom Obi-Wan and if you’re feeling up for discovering a kink you weren’t sure you were into before. There’s plenty of amazing fics on her ao3 (I was also immediately obsessed with the recent alpha/alpha one), but this fic is one of my favorites. I love the style of a 5+1 for a fic, and I am obsessed with casual slut (affectionate) Obi-Wan and Anakin’s blinders of his master slowly being pulled away until he HAS to confront the reason Obi-Wan can untie and hogtie a criminal they caught so damn quickly. It’s indecent. It’s amazing.

Our Man From Tatooine by kazmir Notes: Explicit, a/b/o dynamics, intersex omegas

This story is such a good, quick, enthralling read. I really can’t say much without spoiling it, but it’s worth the read. Dark Obikin, twists and turns, roleplaying, horny mates being unable to resist the other’s draw….so good….One of those fics I paused to reread while reccing it lol

Acts of Contrition by @marycontraire Notes: A series, ranging from Gen - Explicit

Cheating a little bit to rec you all a series instead because I just reread this fic series and fell in love with it all over again. Literally a fandom classic for me. The world building is amazing, the realism and research really pays off because it creates such a rich world for people to dive into. The Tatooine culture is so rich and interesting, and I love this Anakin especially. It’s a very realistic take on if Anakin had been expelled from the Order for the Tusken massacre. This Anakin is darker and clingier and Obi-Wan is trying to keep himself level and sane and something Anakin can cling to while still being a Jedi in all but name. Every installment of this series is gold and worth reading as quickly as possible just to have this in your mind faster. Also worth a slow read to savor it because unfortunately, you can only read a fic series like this for the first time once.

You can call me baby (you can call me love) by @lilredghost Notes: Explicit, 5 + 1

This fic is so sweet that I honestly forgot it was explicit - even though, yes, it opens with a sex scene lmao! But I love this writer’s explicit fics so much (their ao3 is worth a browse) that I am not disappointed in it being explicit, no sir. Obi-Wan gets upset when Anakin calls him an old man repeatedly and I’ve read this fic so much that when I see repeated use of “old man” in other fics I’m like “! no! His feelings!!!” this fic ALSO has anakin calling obi-wan baby <3 so good so sweet so perfect.

take my hand through the flames by @atornpage Notes: Explicit, vaderwan, seduction to the Dark Side

Oh this may just be the WIP I am most excited to see updated! It’s such a clever and unique concept that I’m on the edge of my seat to see where the writer takes the story next. There are not enough stories where a character falls into a coma and time passes around them, and this is so perfect. I adore fics where baby Anakin is clingy and obsessed with Obi-Wan and everyone around them is like ‘this is not REALLY the Jedi way, guys’, and this fic has SO much of that. I can’t wait to see all the promises of the tags come to fruition and am massively enjoying the ride to get there!

Heal Me, My Darling by @wasureneba Notes: Explicit, sick fic, idiots in love

Who doesn’t love a sick fic?? The tender healing…the care…the rotten work…not to me, not if it’s you, etc etc…this fic is such a good sick fic too, I was here for the entire thing! Anakin is in top whiny form and Obi-Wan is cuddling him left and right! I also love Anakin having a praise kink in this fic – it made me soft and so receptive to the idea again when I was getting tired of seeing it as a default in a ton of fics. But this fic said “Obi-Wan tells Anakin he’s doing good while touching his ass to administer a very important for plot reasons shot and Anakin bursts into flames” and I said “absolutely and understandable, please tell me what happens next.” This is like a perfect sick fic for me. The right balance of sweet and horny. Caring Obi-Wan and whiny because he’s bored! Anakin. God-tier combination.

Νόστος by NFx Notes: Explicit, stockholm syndrome typical of hades & persephone aus

I am always here for a good Hades&Persephone AU and I feel like this is a great one! I especially love AUs that carefully place Star Wars GFFA characters into an established world (like Greek mythology in this case), and take care to match up the side characters of the GFFA with the AU characters they’re being transposed on. I like the pace and narration of this one too, the way the tone feels both readable and still old — the dialogue and narration don’t read like a BBC documentary set in Ancient Greece where everyone just sort of speaks like they’re in a Shakespeare play for some reason, but it’s still sorta oldish/stiffer dialogue that really keeps you in the fic universe without alienating readers. Also, horny. But dark horny. Love a darker Anakin.

Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs Notes: Teen

One of my all-time favorites, I think, and if you haven't read it or haven't reread it recently, you need to! There's so much tension build up and detail put in with such an amazing pay off that I could literally read this fic every month and probably find something new to enjoy all over again. I don't even have strong opinions about mace training anakin, but this fic convinced me it could work and work really well. also poor poor obi-wan </3 his emotional support padawan goes missing </3 but then is found :) as a twunk :)

#asks #obikin #obikin fic recs #me: im gonna focus and write my fic #also me: jk here is 4k of fic recs #i hope you enjoy!! i actually spent like 2 nights on this lol #combing through my history #tried to also spotlight some writers i like a lot but dont really see recc'ed #also psa if you have a tumblr pls link it to it on your ao3 #for kit #my notes are so silly i am sorry #i don't have kit's opinion corner often #so i shoved all my opinions into 4k of nonsense fic review #me: i hope peoplee like my fic list :)#also me: posts at the weirdest times where most people are not online :)

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outerspacebisexual · 2 years

Text

What Remains in the Wake - Eddie Munson

Part Two of Until the Chaos is Through

Part One - Until the Chaos is Through

Part Three - Blessed Silence After This Mayhem

Part Four - Heinous Regret With No Salvation

Summary: You're left reeling after your boyfriend Eddie's infidelity. It doesn't feel like you'll ever move on, and a tiny part of you wants to go back to him.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: angst, swearing, implied/referenced cheating, again maybe steve x reader if you squint, you have really great friends in this i stg

a/n: HOLY SHIT guys i seriously didn't expect all the love on until the chaos is through! i LOVE reading your thoughts about it. genuinely so many made me laugh so much.

i really hope that you enjoy part two. i got so many requests to be tagged that i couldn't get through them all, so i am sorry about that!

thank you all so much for the support! <3

Masterlist

Your days wasted away into the night after the Halloween party.

You teetered on a razor’s edge between wanting to run straight back to Eddie and wanting to never see him again.

Like today, when laying alone in your room only bought thoughts of missing him. When your covers still smelt like him, and the photos of the two of you stared blankly from their spots on your dresser and the walls and the bedside table, their wide smiles and bright eyes mocking you.

Everywhere you looked, there was Eddie, and you couldn’t bring yourself to leave this little self-proclaimed bubble of ignorance.

Because if you didn’t think about it, it wasn’t real. Eddie was simply on his way over to hang out and spend the night like he used to, and everything was fine.

The night of the party, your friends had stayed with you until mid-morning. They took turns in comforting you as you spent hours sobbing on the couch, crying out against the unfairness of it all. About how stuff like this didn’t happen to people like you.

It didn’t happen to couples who loved each other.

Because you loved him.

And Eddie loved you.

But that affirmation you had been repeating to yourself for weeks held no weight now. It had been your lifeline in all those moments of doubt and insecurity, the one thing that you told yourself over and over and over, assuring you that you were wrong.

And yet, you had been right, despite all the lies you pretended were the truth.

You heard Steve’s car pull into your driveway.

You didn’t get up to let him in. He and the other’s had borrowed your spare key, taking turns in checking in on you after your refusal to leave your house for the third day in a row.

You stayed still, curled up beneath the covers, eyes closed as Steve opened your bedroom door.

“Hey,” he murmured, coming to sit on the edge of your bed.

You didn’t reply, just barely peeking your eyes open, but he didn’t look dejected, he just gave you a tight-lipped smile—one that reeked of pity.

Yesterday, it had been Nancy who came by. She had sat right where Steve was, that same sympathetic look on her face. You hadn’t wanted to talk then either.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, just loud enough for you to hear.

The tears burned the back of your eyes. “I’m fine,” you whispered, but your lip trembled, and Steve was quick to brush his hand over the side of your head.

“You don’t need to lie to me,” he told you, the same softness to his voice as before, as if he, too, was trying to protect the quiet bubble just as much as you were. That was what you told yourself, even though you knew it wasn’t true. “Talk to me.”

Your throat ached as you swallowed back a sob. You’d cried enough these past few days. “I—I don’t know what to do.”

His hand brushed over your head again. “About what?”

“About the love I have for him. I love him, Steve.” Just saying those words out loud had you weeping. “I love him so much and it still wasn’t enough.”

Steve’s hand rested on your shoulder, and he squeezed it just tight enough to make you look up at him. “Y/N, it would have been enough for anyone else. I don’t know why he did what he did, but I do know that it wasn’t because of you.”

“But if I—”

“No,” he cut you off, tone firm—firmer than anyone had been in days. “No. This isn’t on you. This is on him.”

The words should have comforted you. He meant them to be comforting, but they didn’t help. They only caused you to think about Eddie.

And it made you think of the fact that he hadn’t contacted you at all.

He hadn’t tried to call. He hadn’t come over. He hadn’t made any effort to try and talk to you.

Maybe you don’t mean enough to him, that tiny voice whispered. Maybe you weren’t enough for him to even bother to apologise. Maybe he doesn’t want to apologise.

You clamped your eyes shut, trying to block out the awful words that just kept tumbling and turning through your mind.

Steve removed his hand from your shoulder, and you instantly missed the comfort of it.

When you opened your eyes, they fell to him—to his hands—and you frowned.

“What is that?” you asked.

“What?”

You removed your arm from the warmth of your covers to take his hand in yours.

His knuckles were bruised, the middle two split, but they had healed enough to not need to be covered.

Steve tried to pull his hand away, but you held fast. “Steve?”

“I—uh,” He swallowed and looked to the wall, avoiding your eyes. “It’s from the party.”

Your brows furrowed. “You got into a fight?” You had been so focused on yourself that you hadn’t even realised he had been hurt at all, not at the party or over the past few days.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes not leaving your patterned wallpaper. “Sort of.”

You studied his side profile, the way his eyes darted around, his hesitancy to answer your questions.

Steve had been with Jonathan and Nancy most of the night at the party, if you remembered correctly. From the couch at the Roland’s, you had been able to see most of the first floor and you couldn’t recall him getting into a fight. If you had, you would have at least tried to stop him. That man did not need any more knocks to the head. It must have happened upstairs—

It hit you, and you shrunk back.

“Oh,” you said, and this time when he attempted to pull his hand away, you let him.

“I—yeah. Jonathan and I, we—” He cleared his throat, standing. “I should probably go. Do you need anything?”

Jonathan had been at the top of the stairs, but Steve…Steve hadn’t come out until after. Judging by his knuckles, now you knew why. You wondered if Jonathan had even tried to stop him.

You stared at him for a long moment before shaking your head. He rushed out a hurried good-bye, and then your door was pulled shut with barely more than a click.

School was the absolute last place you wanted to be.

The incident wasn’t common knowledge amongst your peers, but you knew that it was only a matter of time before they found out. Already, hushed whispers trailed you; some sympathetic, some not.

It was also the first time in over two years that you didn’t have Eddie by your side as you walked through the front doors. Even before you got together, you had been friends, and his presence right beside you had become a staple in your life that you never thought you’d lose.

But you had.

The worst part was lunch.

As you grabbed your tray, your eyes immediately went to the Hellfire table out of habit, and you stopped short when you realised that you couldn’t sit there anymore.

Eddie wasn’t there in his pride of place at the head of the table, thankfully, but Jeff’s eyes found you, confused as to why you weren’t coming over.

It became obvious that the rest of The Hellfire Club didn’t know.

As you stood there, you wondered if they had known about Eddie and Chrissy. Had they been aware of Eddie’s deals with her? Had you sat across from them every day being the only one in the dark? They were Eddie’s friends first; they didn’t owe you any loyalty. That belonged to their infallible Dungeon Master. Had they humoured you while Eddie snuck out to the—

An arm slipped through yours. “I hear that the band freaks and the school newspaper weirdos have way more fun than D&D nerds,” Robin whispered into your ear as she guided you towards a table at the back of the cafeteria.

You had never been more grateful.

She saw the beholden look on your face and shook her head. “Don’t,” she said softly, and then launched into a spiel about how she had a pop quiz this morning that she most definitely flopped.

Nancy was happy to see you, eyes lighting up as she moved her bag off the table to make a place for you opposite her. Robin dropped into the seat beside you. “Hello, I didn’t expect to see you today.”

You sent Nancy a shy smile. “Yeah,” you said, picking up your fork, “I was surprised, too.”

You had been thinking about skipping school today, and the rest of the week if you were honest, but you knew that it wasn’t going to make a difference about how you were feeling. Your bubble was nothing more than a delusion that you allowed yourself to believe in anyway.

“Well, either way, it’s good to see you here.”

Robin was quick to say, “And to have you sitting with us now. You have no idea the fun we have here.”

You raised a brow. “Oh really?”

“You bet,” she told you, taking a rather large bite out of her sandwich. “Us two? We’re living it up while you losers sit around whining about whatever it is you whine about all day.”

“You don’t have to sell it to me, Rob. I believe you.”

Around a mouthful of food, she said, “Look! You’re already laughing. Proof!”

True to her word, you were grinning wider than you had in nearly a week. Being by yourself for so long had only allowed you to stew in your own self-pity. Being here, with your friends who were trying so hard to help you?

That was worth braving the school corridors for.

Robin placed a hand on your arm. “Oh, did you hear about Lucas’s basketball game? He wasn’t benched—” She immediately cut herself off as her eyes flew to something—or someone—behind you.

You tensed, already not liking the way her eyes bulged as she beheld who stood there.

“Um, Y/N? Can I please talk to you?” Chrissy’s voice was quiet, so much so that you almost missed it as you turned to look at her.

She fiddled with the sleeves of her varsity cheer jacket, the one she always wore, the one you knew that she wore when she would see Eddie.

“W-What?” you managed.

She swallowed, eyes darting around at the stares that came with being the Queen of Hawkins High. “I—I would like to talk to you, please.” She pulled the sleeve of her jacket particularly hard, and it displaced the neckline of her shirt just enough to reveal a tiny patch of discoloured skin on her collarbone.

Your throat suddenly felt like it was closing up.

You couldn’t pull your eyes from that spot of skin. Had it been Eddie? Or had it been Jason? Had Jason known that his girlfriend slept with the freak he hated so much? You had never really liked Jason Carver, but right now, in this exact moment, there was no one else on earth who you understood more.

Both thoughts had bile rising as you tried to calm your racing heart. “I don’t want to talk to you, Chrissy.”

She looked down at you, a dumbstruck look on her face. “Why?”

Your jaw dropped open, and you knew that Robin and Nancy shared the same look. “Why—Why do I not want to talk to you?” you uttered. “Because you slept with my boyfriend, Chrissy.”

Her eyes widened, and she quickly glanced around at the surrounding tables.

As she did, that feeling that you had become so accustomed to whenever you saw her slowly morphed into disbelief.

Even now, she was worried about people finding out that she was the one who fucked the freak. Even as she stood beside the person who she had stolen him from, who she had a hand in betraying.

“Are you serious?”

“Please,” she murmured, “Can we speak outside?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you told her, voice shaking.

“But—”

You dug your fingers into the side of the table.

You had no idea where all of this anger was coming from. For days, you hadn’t been able to feel anything except a swirling pool of heartbreak and numbness. And now, this rush of hostility coursed through you faster than you could stop it.

“—Chrissy,” Nancy interrupted. “You should go.”

Robin’s hand coming to rest on your forearm was the only thing keeping your grounded.

Chrissy eyed the growing number of stares that were on her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and your chair was sliding back in an instant as you stood.

She shrank back at the ferocity in your eyes, mouth dropping open as you leaned forward. “I don’t want your apologies,” you spat. “I want you to fuck off.” Robin and Nancy were standing, too, Robin’s hand a hairsbreadth from your arm as if to grab you at a moment’s notice.

Chrissy took a single step back. Then another. Her eyes didn’t leave you as she raced away from your table.

You stared after her, blood thrumming in your ears and your heart pounding in your chest.

But as soon as the adrenaline rush arrived, it deserted you, and that rage became humiliation as you noted all the eyes on you.

You slumped back into your seat.

Nancy sat wide-eyed across from you. “Are…Are you OK?” she asked, somewhere between shocked and…impressed?

“I honestly don’t know,” you muttered. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Your face burned, and you shook your head. At what, you didn’t know. Maybe at your actions. Maybe at Chrissy’s fucking ignorance.

“Well,” Robin said, brows raised as she looked between you and Nancy. “I think we can safely say our table hasn’t seen this much action in years.”

You covered your face with your hands. “I thought you said you had fun here?”

“I’m a liar.”

You knew that going to The Hideout for the first time since Halloween would be difficult, but you hadn’t expected it to be so hard.

You didn’t expect to see Eddie in everything.

He wasn’t actually there on the random Friday night that you, Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Jonathan decided to hang out, but you saw him on the stage.

You saw him leaning against the back wall, you standing snuggly against him, playing with his hair as you listened to the band on after Corroded Coffin.

You saw him sitting at the bar, peppering kisses along your jaw.

You saw him at the table by the window, his eyes lighting up when he spotted you coming back with drinks in hand.

The Hideout was a living, breathing reminder of everything you and Eddie had once been.

And you didn’t expect it to hurt so much.

“I just can’t believe it’s taking this long,” Jonathan shouted over the music, bringing your attention back to the group. He was rambling on about something to do with Chief Hopper and his mother, and to be honest, you were a little lost.

“Didn’t they go to high school together?” Steve asked. “They’ve known each other forever.”

“Exactly!” Jonathan exclaimed, surging forward enough to jolt Nancy who was perched under his arm. “It’s like, you’ve known each other for so long and you both know you like each other, so why are you just waiting around for something to happen?”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but one of the bartenders appeared at the end of the table. Earl, you remembered, and from the way his face lit up, he remembered you, too.

“Y/N!” he called, and you waved politely. “I haven’t seen you here for ages! We missed you at Eddie’s set last week. I almost called you when he got so wasted he couldn’t walk, but he insisted he was fine. Stumbled out of here by himself with nothing but his wits. Stupid boy.”

Despite everything, a pang of worry shot through you. “Oh,” you said awkwardly, “I—yeah, Eddie and I aren’t really…” You trailed off, and Earl’s face fell a fraction.

“Ah, well, next round is on me,” he told you, and you sent him a grateful smile as he disappeared into the throng of people.

You weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself, and Steve picked up on it, launching back into the conversation with Jonathan.

That seemed to be your general state of being now. Unsure.

You were unsure who you were without Eddie. You were unsure how you could go forward when a small part of you kept wanting to go back. Back to the man that you had made plans with for after graduation. The man who you had promised to be with forever; promised to build a life with outside of Hawkins in less than a few months.

Eddie still hadn’t tried to see you. He still hadn’t called, or come to your house, or even tried to accost you at school like Chrissy had.

Over the past two weeks, you hadn’t even seen him in the halls at school, or the cafeteria, despite his van being in the parking lot every day.

He simply disappeared from your life, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

The lump in your throat made itself apparent, just like it always did. It practically lived within you now.

You slid out of the booth, shooting your friends a quick glance. “Bathroom,” you said quickly, before weaving past people you both recognised and didn’t. Most of the people you only knew because of Eddie.

The bathroom was empty. A small mercy, as you locked the door and sat on the lid of the toilet, head in your hands.

Coming here so soon was a mistake. It was too much.

You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, quietly savouring the pressure.

You didn’t belong here without Eddie.

You didn’t belong anywhere without Eddie.

No matter how much you tried to kid yourself, nothing felt right without him.

There was a knock on the door, but you ignored it.

You hadn’t ever even been to The Hideout without him. It was his place, and you just tagged along, ringing in the perks of being with the band. Which weren’t many except maybe a few free drinks here and there.

But to everyone you met there, you were Eddie’s.

And now you weren’t.

And that hurt so much.

Someone knocked again, and this time you shouted, “Give me a minute!”

The person on the other side was silent, and you rubbed at your eyes, patterns playing behind your eyelids in a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes.

It was comforting, somehow.

The door clicked open, and your head shot up to see Nancy standing there, hair pin in hand. “Sorry,” she said, looking only slightly guilty. “I wanted to check on you. I was worried.”

You scoffed. “What if I was peeing?”

She shut the door. “Then we would have known each other a lot more intimately than we did ten seconds before now.” She eyed you up and down, eyes not missing a thing. She was so perceptive that it was almost scary. “Too much?”

You nodded. “Too much.”

“We can go, you know? We don’t have to stay if it’s making you upset.”

“I—I want to. I just—” You waved your hands around. “—It doesn’t feel right. Without him. Nothing does.”

Nancy gave you one of her closed mouth smiles. “I know it feels that way now, but it will get better. I promise.” She knelt before you, hands on your knees as she leaned down to catch your eye. “What he did, you can’t go back, no matter how much you want to.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. “How long will it take?” You felt like a child asking questions that didn’t have an answer.

Nancy shrugged. “I don’t know. But I do know that a week ago, this would have sent you spiralling. And now, you’re not even crying.” You blinked, feeling for the first time that your eyes were dry. She smiled. “Time, honey. You just need time.”

“Why are we here again?” you grumbled to Jonathan as you both got out of his car on the main street.

“Because one: I need help carrying all this to the car, and two: I also need help putting it together,” he told you.

“And why am I tasked in helping you put your brother’s Christmas present together? It’s still months away.”

Jonathan sighed, all mock disappointment. “Well, you weren’t my first choice, but everyone else is busy.”

You jabbed your finger into his arm. “That’s mean, you know that?”

“Maybe if you stopped complaining so much, we’d already be done,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

The main street wasn’t as busy as you thought it would be on a Saturday mid-afternoon.

People still meandered up and down the street, but most were on a mission, like you and Jonathan.

Jonathan hadn’t even explained exactly what it was that you were picking up and putting together. You just knew that he was really excited about giving it to Will. And you could hardly say no to him when it was practically saying no to sweet, little Will.

“Don’t forget we have to pick Lucas and Max up from the arcade on the way back,” you reminded him.

“Why do we have to do that again?”

“Because you recruited me and I already said yes to them, so we have to combine plans.” You side stepped a large group of elderly women who pushed straight through the middle of you two. Jonathan kept walking and was a few metres ahead by the time the group of ladies finished filing past.

You stepped off to follow after him when your name was called from across the street.

Looking up, you froze as Eddie came rushing across the street towards you.

It was as if every single thought you’d ever had emptied from your mind as he came to a stop a few feet from you.

His hair was just as messy as it always was, and you noted the faded bruise on his cheekbone. You didn’t have to guess where that had come from, and the bags under his eyes were much more prominent than they normally were.

Seeing him now, your stomach churned with so many different emotions that you weren’t even sure what you were feeling.

He was a little out of breath as he said, “Can I talk to you? Please?” His dark eyes were pleading, and you fought against the urge to instantly cave, just like you always did when he shot you his puppy dog eyes.

“I—”

You were cut off when Jonathan suddenly appeared beside you. He looked beyond angry; his brows creased, and his top lip pulled back. “I thought we told you to keep your distance, Munson,” he ground out.

Eddie looked surprised to see him. He obviously thought you’d been alone. “I just want to talk, man. Please. I’ve stayed away, but I need to talk to you.” He directed the last bit at you. “Please.”

You didn’t think that you’d heard him say please so much in his life. He was practically begging.

“What do you want to say?” you asked timidly. Eddie glanced between you and Jonathan. “It’s fine, Jonathan. Just give me a minute?”

He looked unsure, but eventually conceded, shooting Eddie a dirty look as he made his way up the street just enough to give you some privacy. You had known him long enough to know that he was still within hearing distance.

“What did you want to talk about?”

When Eddie’s eyes finally found yours again, they looked pained. “I…I wanted to talk about us.”

“There is no us, Eddie.”

“I know. I know that. But I’m so, so sorry. You have no idea how hard these past few weeks have been for me. Staying away from you—”

“How hard they’ve been for you?” You laughed, right in his face. “How do you think they’ve been for me? You didn’t even try and see me.”

“Steve and Jonathan told me not to. They said—”

“I don’t give a shit what Steve and Jonathan said. You cheated on me and then just abandoned me.” Your voice wavered, and you hated that Eddie caught it.

He tried to reach for you, but you stepped back and pulled your hand away. His eyes flashed with hurt, and you squashed the part of you that felt bad. “And I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It was a mistake.”

You closed your eyes for a second, hating the way your pet name rolled off his tongue. The pet name that he hadn’t used in the weeks before Halloween. It had become non-existent once he started seeing Chrissy.

“How many times?” you asked suddenly.

He looked confused. “What?”

“How many times, Eddie?” you repeated. You didn’t want to say the words out loud.

Understanding your meaning, his eyes found the ground. He was silent for a long moment. “Six,” he mumbled.

You choked. “Six?” You took another step back.

“It—Y/N, wait—”

“—Six times you slept with her and then came home to me?”

You weren’t even sure why you were entertaining this conversation. You knew that it was only going to end up with you hurting more than you already were.

“No, I never saw you on those days,” he confessed.

You stared at him. “Is that supposed to make it better?”

His eyes widened, and he rushed out, “No, no. I’m just trying to explain.”

The melancholic agony that you’d been stuck in for weeks was suddenly sharpening. The razor’s thin edge became no longer wanting or not wanting, it became anger and rage. “There is nothing you could possibly explain to make this better.”

His voice became pleading, and he stepped towards you as if you were going to suddenly disappear. “Please, baby, it was a mistake. Chrissy—she’s not you. I want you. I need you—”

Your fist was flying before you could stop it, and you only registered what you had done when your knuckles stung.

Eddie reeled back, and you stared wide-eyed at him. His hand went to his face, holding the spot between his cheekbone and his nose.

He opened and closed his mouth.

“I loved you, Eddie,” you uttered, clutching your fist in your other hand. “I gave you everything, and it still wasn’t enough for you. I needed my boyfriend to love me enough to not sleep with other people.”

Jonathan was suddenly standing beside you.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you spat as Jonathan took your arm. “I don’t need you anymore.”

If Eddie was going to say something, you didn’t find out, because Jonathan was pulling you up the street past the onlookers who were gawking at both you and Eddie.

“Are you OK?” he asked.

“No,” you muttered, and you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or just pure mania, but you started to laugh. “That really fucking hurt. I think I broke my hand.”

Pulling the door open to Family Video an hour before closing, you were pleased to see it was empty aside from the man you were looking for.

“Harrington,” you called as the door shut behind you, “I need a movie recommendation.”

Looking up from where he was leaned against the counter flicking though a magazine, Steve seemed both surprised and happy to see you. “You’ve come to the right place,” he declared, standing up. “We have movies galore. What are you looking for?”

You grinned as you reached the counter. “Something funny, but also a little sad, with a killer soundtrack.”

He pretended to ponder for a moment. “Sounds an awful lot like your favourite movie,” he pronounced.

“Someone has to keep this place afloat. Why not me and my little favourites?”

Steve rolled his eyes playfully. “Where would we be without you?” he joked, pulling a tape from beneath the counter and setting it in front of you.

You raised a brow. “You had it sitting back there already?”

He shrugged. “Had a hunch.”

Reaching for the cash in your pocket, you hissed when your knuckles caught the lip of the pocket. Steve noticed, and his eyes shot to your hand.

“I heard you socked Munson in the face today,” he remarked, and you couldn’t quite tell the tone he used.

“Yeah,” you said sheepishly, placing the money on the counter.

He held out his hand, wagging his fingers. “Let me see.”

Gingerly, you placed your hand in his own, watching as he studied your knuckles. Unlike his, the skin of your knuckles was still intact, but they were slowly starting to bruise.

And they hurt like hell. You didn’t know how people did it over and over again. Just one mediocre punch and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to hold a pencil for a week.

“We match,” you observed, and he shot you a disapproving look.

“Not really something I wanted to match you for.” He brushed his thumb over them, and you winced. “You’re lucky it’s not broken.”

“Jonathan already gave me that spiel,” you muttered. He had seriously ripped into you on the drive from the main street. Not only had you ruined his plans for the day and still forced him to pick up Lucas and Max, but he then had to take you to the hospital which he was less than impressed with.

The verdict had been bruised knuckles and not a break, but the doctor had advised you to lay off punching people in the face in the future.

Still looking at your hand, Steve started chuckling and you narrowed your eyes. “What?”

He shook his head. “I just can’t believe you punched him in the main street.”

“He’s the one who came at me. If anything, he chose the location,” you tried to justify.

Steve smiled. “I’m proud of you,” he said after a second. “I know it was hard for you.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest. “Thank you, Stevie.”

And you really meant it.

You had no doubt that if it weren’t for the support of your friends, you wouldn’t be where you were. If it weren’t for them, you might never have known about Eddie and Chrissy.

And as much as you had been confused and upset about not seeing Eddie in the last few weeks, Steve’s threats about giving you space were the best thing that could have happened. Because you would have gone back to him if he showed up on your doorstep. You would have continued to bleed yourself dry for him over and over again.

Steve tapped your fingers, and you looked back at him.

Like Nancy said, it would still take some time.

But you were all right with that.

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things one shot #stranger things angst #steve harrington x reader #outerspacebisexual

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lewmagoo · 2 years

Text

warm | jake seresin

description: jake is cool when he wants to be, and warm when you need him to be

warnings: 18+ only, daddy kink, established dom/sub relationship, edging, orgasm denial, bondage, pussy slapping, choking

pairing: jake seresin x reader (no gender specific pronouns used)

notes: i’m currently writing a longer jake fic but i just needed to get my creative juices flowing with this little drabble. enjoy

jake seresin knows his own limits. he knows how far he can push himself before it becomes too much. it’s just how he’s wired. along that same vein, he’s also extremely attuned to your limits. it’s something that comes from knowing you for years.

we’re not talking knowing your favorite flavor of ice cream, or your favorite movie. jake knows you so deeply, so intimately, that sometimes, you think he knows you better than you know yourself. he knows what makes you tick. and he knows what you can withstand.

this makes for some incredibly intense sessions in the safe confines of your bedroom. he’s particularly fond of testing your limits, and you happily allow him to, because you trust him implicitly. you know that you have all the power in this situation, because at any moment, you can say the word, and it will end immediately. but you don’t, because jake doesn’t push you to the point of having to utter that safeword. he always keeps you right where you’re comfortable.

his weapon of choice, so to speak? why, orgasm denial, of course. and that’s where he’s got you now. you’re bound to the bed, hands tied to the headboard, legs spread wide, body entirely naked. and he’s fully clothed. in his uniform, no less. and he’s got that stupid smirk on his face, the one you love so much, but simultaneously want to slap right off that handsome face. he’s having a grand old time, teasing you to no end.

there’s a vibrator pressed against your cunt. he keeps alternating the settings, going from high to low, and vice versa. you’re squirming beneath him, whining and whimpering because you’ve already been denied three orgasms and you’re not sure if you can withstand a fourth fake-out.

“p-please,” you moan, eyes screwed shut.

he hums. “please what, honey pie?” he teases.

“please let me come,” you beg. it’s futile, you know.

“what’s the fun in that? it’s so much fun to tease you.” the vibrator switches to high again, and you cry out, yanking against your restraints.

“fuck! jake, i’m gonna come!” you desperately warn. suddenly, the vibrator shuts off, and you’re left clenching around nothing, your orgasm just out of reach.

“first of all, i just told you no. second of all, what did you just call me?” his hand is in your hair, pulling your head back. when you open your eyes, his are fiery.

“s-sorry,” you whimper. “i meant to say daddy.”

“oh really?” he pulls the vibe away, and without warning, his hand comes down against your puffy cunt, and you yelp loudly. “let’s try this again.”

he presses the toy against you again, flipping it back on. you’re hot all over, and you’re afraid you might not be able to control yourself. and then, jake’s fingers are inside you, and you nearly scream.

“you’re so wet, darlin’. and so tight, just clenching around me like that.” then, he pulls his fingers back, and sucks them into his mouth, tasting your arousal and moaning lowly. “always taste so good.”

he ups the vibrations, all the way to the highest setting, watching as you writhe against the bed. the sight has his cock hard in his slacks, and he’s eagerly waiting for the moment he’s buried inside you. but for now, it’s time to use self-control.

you’re barely hanging on by a thread. he can tell by the way your skin glistens with perspiration, and the faraway look in your eyes. you’re teetering on the precipice of a very delicate headspace, and he’s going to gently coax you there soon enough.

“d-daddy,” you whimper as you feel yourself nearing the edge yet again. “i’m gonna—”

“hold it,” he growls. he knows what you can take.

“i can’t!” you’re close to tears now. just a little bit longer.

“yes you fucking can.”

just when you’re nearly falling apart, the vibrations stop, and his hand taps against you again, causing you to let out a wail. tears begin to slide down your face.

then, he’s there, gentle eyes meeting your tearful ones. he’s softer, setting aside that cool exterior and trading it for a brief moment of warmth. his hand is holding your jaw, fingers stroking the skin. “what’s your color?”

“green,” you answer honestly.

he smiles. “that’s my baby.” then he’s kissing you before he pulls back, and just like that, he reassumes the role of cold, hard dominance.

the vibrator switches back on, pressed tightly against you. you can feel those vibrations within every inch of your wrecked cunt. they consume you. and you’re climbing that peak again. getting closer, and closer, and closer. and you can’t do it, you think. it’s too much. too intense. too overwhelming.

his fingers are inside you again, fucking you roughly. the sound of your wetness is obscene, but you can’t hear it over the rush of blood in your ears. you’re close. too close. it’s going to come to a crescendo and you’re not sure if you have enough time to warn jake.

suddenly, the hand that was between your legs is wrapped around your neck, fingers pressing firmly into the sides, causing your head to spin and your eyes to roll back in your head. then his mouth is at your ear as he growls out, “come.”

and you do. right on his command, it consumes you. your mouth falls open in a silent scream, and your body contorts powerfully. it washes over you like liquid heat, rushing through your body from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. you’re on fire. you’re having an out of body experience. you’re a live fucking wire.

jake watches you in awe. his beautiful little submissive, falling to pieces beneath him. it’s breathtaking. but all too soon, it’s over. and the second it is, he pulls the vibrator away, because he knows you can’t handle anymore. he won’t ever push you too far, lest he send you spiraling into a precarious headspace.

when your vision finally clears, you find him gazing down at you. you realize that he’s undone your binds. you must’ve blacked out, because you don’t remember him doing that. he smiles at you, running his knuckles over your warm cheek. “hey there, honey pie.” his voice is soothing, like silk dragging over your skin. “you did so good for me. i’m so proud of you.”

you whine softly, and he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. he removed his shirt at some point so you could be skin to skin, like you prefer. and you feel like you’re floating. it’s safe and warm and all-consuming. like a warm bath you’ve just dipped into, smelling of vanilla and candy floss. you want to speak. want to say something, anything. but you can’t. and that’s okay. he slips his fingers into your mouth, and it grounds you.

“so good,” he repeats. you hum contentedly around his fingers.

you’re happy to remain like this, in this glorious subspace. and jake, in turn, is happy to keep you there. he knows he pushed you hard this session, and he’s going to allow you to bask in the afterglow for as long as you need. soon, he’ll carry you to the bathroom to clean you up. but for now, you’ve earned this moment of tranquility, held in the arms of the man you trust more than anyone else in the world.

“mm, love you, daddy,” you mumble against his bare chest, breathing in his scent.

he smiles, holding you a little closer. “i love you too, sugar.” and he does, more than anything in the world.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction

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hey-august · 4 months

Text

Word count: ~800

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x amab!reader, no use of Y/N, masturbation x2. All parties are consenting adults.

“you really don’t touch yourself?” buggy’s confused. very fucking confused. he doesn’t accept your half-assed shrug as a sufficient response.

“i like it when you touch me”

“and when i’m not around?”

another fucking shrug. another shitty answer, so now you’re sitting in front of buggy as he tells you what to do.

“just hold it first…softer than that. just fucking cradle it” buggy ignores your rolling eyes and waits until you listen. “feel how hard it is? and how heavy?” buggy’s voice is lower, weighed down by desire.

you repress another shrug and nod. your dick bobs in your hand, escaping your hold for a moment. buggy’s eyes glisten at the movement.

“stroke it, feel how long it is”

you drag your fingers along the length, copying what buggy does when he touches you. something in your chest flutters at the sensation. you close your eyes for a moment and imagine his warmth. feeling a bead of precum graze your finger, you smear it across the head of your cock. the slick feeling reminds you of how buggy loves tasting you and you can barely hold in a moan.

opening your eyes, you’re greeted with mirrored movements. buggy’s eyebrows furrow as he thumbs his own leaking tip. he looks at you with half lidded eyes, seemingly forgetting that he was the one giving you instructions. you take the lead, wrapping around yourself and slowly fist your cock, prompting the pirate to follow suit. he lets out a content groan at the feeling.

“f-fuck” the word falls out as you exhale. you’ve seen buggy touch himself before, but controlling his movement like this was fucking intoxicating.

craving more, your hand speeds up. and so does buggy’s. you pump yourself quickly, watching the glaze grow in his green eyes. the quiet gasps and stilted moans escaping your mouth are accompanied by his heavy breathing and grunts. the tension in your body increases and you’re sure the same is happening in buggy’s. you can even see it. his grip is tighter, his cock is a needy red, crying for release.

so you slow down. softening your touch until you’re just grazing your heavy member. reluctantly, your movements are copied with a groan that sounds suspiciously like a whine. looking up, buggy’s painted smile doesn’t mask his frustration. his hand quivers as it tries to keep pace with yours.

“please” he chokes out the single word. his cock lets a single drop of precum fall to the floor.

giving in, you pick up the pace. fucking your tight hand so he can do the same. feeling your balls bounce against your fist, knowing his are doing the same. the tighter your stomach knots, the louder buggy gets.

once again, you know he’s close. once again, you slow down. honestly, you weren’t sure that he’d do the same. but he does. with a whimper. the sweetest sound. even though you’re barely touching yourself, that noise has you dangerously teetering on the edge. you just have to hear it again.

you rub the tender tip of your cock, suppressing the shudder that buggy can’t hold in when he does the same. this might break him. you do it again, running your thumb along the leaking slit. it almost works - he’s shaking. you probably are too, you’re just too fucked out to notice.

you drag the slickness under tip, just below the head. teasing that sensitive spot does it. another needy whimper fills your head as your cock twitches in response. he can’t hold out much longer. his lips are moving, but nothing is coming out. you know he wants to beg to come. you love it when he turns into a fragile fucking thing like this and it’s even better knowing that it’s his own touch causing it.

using your free hand to play with your heavy balls, you go back to fucking your hand. you squeeze your cock tightly, just as you know buggy likes. you pick up speed for him, watching as he hunches over his own fist and chases his climax. a relieved gasp echoes as he shoots the first few streams of his load onto the ground. his jizz lands with a sick wet noise and that’s what pushes you over the edge.

watching buggy milk his cock until pearly cum drips from his fingers, you move the hand from your balls to the head of your cock and come into your empty grasp. every last drop is squeezed into your palm until you’re left cautiously holding the viscous liquid that threatens to spill.

you and buggy lock eyes for a moment. he looks confused again. he glances at your tenuous handful of cum and back at you, squinting, as if asking what your plan is. you didn’t have one. it just seemed like a good idea at the moment, but now, with post-nut clarity, it really wasn’t. you don’t know what to do with the cooling cream.

“i swear, if you fucking shrug again”

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut #x reader

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bvidzsoo · 3 months

Text

Love Me Like A Rockstar (5)

Chapter 5: Avalanche

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

Warning: cussing, mentions of suicide

Word count: 8, 084

Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Updateee, hehet. Now, now...this chapter is emotionally loaded, but at least we can notice some progress in their relationship lol, it was about time if you ask me. Please listen to Avalanche before or while reading this chapter, it's really important as it portrays Mingi's story and feelings in the past, so please don't skip it! I can't promise the next update will be soon because I have a deadline by next week, but if I won't be too burned out then I might just update towards next weekend. ALSO G U Y S!!!! Tunnel?!?!?!?!?! SONG MINGI'S SOLO???? ARE WE FINE?!?!?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE RELEASES T H A T WHILE I'M WRITING A STORY EXACTLY LIKE THAT???!! No, but seriously, I'm completely not fine, I still can't believe this happened BECAUSE IT'S NOT THE FIRST TIME I WRITE SOMETHING AND IT HAPPENS. Okay, I'm done screaming, sorry. I hope you all enjoy this chapter, I tried my best and I hope it turned out okay. Feedback is appreciated, enjoy now!!

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @juicy-red @scarfac3 @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @okokmaybe01-blog

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

There was a beat of silence, of nobody moving, of nobody blinking or saying anything. My heart shouldn’t have picked up its rhythm so fast, but as my eyes briefly ran over Mingi’s tall form standing in the doorway opposite mine, I realized he looked the same as in the video I have seen on Seulgi’s Instagram story, the only change to his outfit was the black hoodie covering his broad frame—and wet, almost see-through, white shirt.

“What are you doing here?” My mouth was moving before I could think, mind suddenly a puddle.

“Picking up some food since I’m headed home from Outlaw.” Mingi’s explanation came quickly, his own eyes taking in my appearance as they briefly ran over my body. My grip tightened around the doorknob as I suddenly felt embarrassed. I knew I didn’t look like my usual self; my eyes were still red from crying, and I couldn’t help but sniff every other few minute. And I was completely soaked in rainwater.

“What are you doing here?” Mingi asked at once, eyes finally meeting mine. His expression was neutral, but there was something in his eyes—he seemed tired. Black eyeliner rimmed his already sharp eyes, creating the illusion of them piercing right through you. I suddenly felt naked under his attentive gaze, too exposed for my liking. I cleared my throat and stepped away from the doorway finally, circling my arms around my body, just now noticing the teetering of my teeth. I tried to offer my body some comfort by hugging myself, but it wasn’t exactly working.

“I was on a walk when it started raining, so I took shelter in here.” That wasn’t a lie at all, yet under Mingi’s watchful gaze, it felt like one. My eyebrows slightly furrowed at the thought, wondering why it felt like I was lying. Perhaps it was the doubt in his eyes as he looked over me once again, clearly questioning why I was drenched from head to toe if I took shelter in here, but I would not further explain myself to him.

“Right,” His voice conveyed nothing and I tried to hide my surprise as he didn’t prod further, “I understand.”

He stepped outside the men’s restroom finally, making me press myself up against the cold wall of the hallway as it was narrow, sniffing as another shudder ripped through my body. Despite having warmed my hands and cheeks with the warm water, I could feel the cold seep through my bones once again as my clothes clung onto my frame uncomfortably. Mingi didn’t cast me any other glance as he took off towards the main hall and I found myself following after him, licking my dry lips as I tried to hug myself tighter, rubbing at my side clumsily. It was my last attempt to warm myself up. My eyes were trained on the floor as they were burning, but I found them drawn upwards soon, curiously watching the back of Mingi’s head. His black hair was damp, and the blue sheer sunglass I saw him wearing in the video was put on backwards, making me frown as I stared at it as it rested against the back of Mingi’s head. Couldn’t he just take it off? Why wear it backwards? Was this a new trend he was following to become more famous? I scoffed at myself quietly as Mingi and I rounded the corner, walking back inside the main hall of the diner, the lady at the front counter looking up from a notebook she was writing in, cash placed next to it. Her eyes were trained on Mingi only, and I rolled my eyes subconsciously, awaiting her to act like one of his baboons—fangirls—from Outlaw and even from our university, but instead, her eyes held warmth as she leaned down and grabbed something from behind the counter. I found myself rooted to my place, watching the interaction—just slightly intrigued—as if I were a child waiting for their parent to finally move and leave the diner. It was silly, really, why was I waiting for Mingi? It’s not like him and I would be leaving together—yet my feet refused to move despite my thoughts telling me to do so.

“Steak with mashed potatoes and some side dishes, just the way you like it.” The lady said kindly as she placed a casserole inside a bag on the counter, pushing it towards Mingi. My eyes were glued to the side of his face, watching his reaction, waiting for his usual arrogant and flirty self to come to the surface, but instead, a small smile made it onto his face as his right hand slipped inside his pocket. Huh, that was new, I’ve never seen Mingi act like—himself—in front of a woman before.

“Thank you, Dahyun, you always seem to know what I’m craving.” Mingi told her quietly and I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt a sneeze trying to fight its way out of my nose, it burned.

“No, you just always ask for the same meals on the same days,” She chuckled as Mingi extended the money towards her, “You’re a simple man, and my memory is simply too good—it’s on the house tonight, Mingi.”

“But—”

“I already closed the register.” Dahyun winked at him and pushed Mingi’s hand back, ignoring the noises of complaint he made, “Seriously, do you want me to overwork myself?”

“Fine,” Mingi sighed, his eyebrows furrowed. My head started to lightly thump and I found myself leaning against the wall, eyes heavy and burning. My mother would kill me for getting sick for such a dumb reason as to staying out in the rain without realizing it was even pouring. Damn Yunho, it’s his fault, “But at least let me leave a tip.”

Dahyun gave Mingi a pointed stare before her eyes fell on me, suddenly realizing I was there too. I cleared my throat awkwardly as I stood up straight, pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. Mingi turned his head, his eyes falling on me as well, and suddenly I felt—so small. Both of them were looking at me with concern in their eyes, and I couldn’t help but look away as my eyes were suddenly burning with tears in them. Why was I in such an unstable state all of a sudden? My chest felt lighter, my throat wasn’t closing in on me anymore—I was fine, so then why?

“Can you make her some tea? If I’m not asking for too much.” My eyes snapped up in Mingi’s direction as he was looking at me, face still emotionless, but eyebrows furrowed.

“Of course, we’ve still got like five minutes until we’re closing.” Dahyun answered him cheerily and then turned around, opening some cabinets as she got to work.

“Okay, but accept the money this time.” Mingi muttered and placed some bills on the counter, pushing it towards the notebook she seemed to be busy with before we disturbed her.

“Whatever.” Dahyun huffed and cast me a quick glance as Mingi turned to look at me again.

“Are you cold?” Mingi asked and I tensed my muscles, trying to stop the trembling, but it was hard—and it wasn’t even working. But I just gulped and pulled myself together, walking closer to him.

“No.” My teeth clanked against each other again and I sniffed as Dahyun turned to face me, a plastic cup in her hands.

“We only have wild berry tea; I hope you like that.” She said with a smile as she placed the cup on the counter and pushed it towards me. I cleared my throat and looked down at it, the steam hot and inviting as I reluctantly reached out for it. It was embarrassing—this whole situation. I was looking like a mess, on the verge of another breakdown, because why not—my brain decided that I simply wasn’t finished crying over nothing—even if it wasn’t exactly nothing, I refused to acknowledge it. I reluctantly reached for the cup, slightly annoyed that Mingi and this Dahyun girl were looking at me like I was going to break—or explode—at any given moment. I let out a frustrated sigh as my fingers wrapped around the hot cup firmly, skin slightly burning, but I welcomed the feeling as I have stopped feeling my fingers a good few minutes ago.

“Stop looking at me like that, Mingi, I’m fine.” I didn’t mean to snap, but my tone was sharp as I sucked in a sharp breath, bringing the cup up to my lips and blowing on the hot water, the steam warming my skin.

“I’m not looking—anyways,” He cut himself off as he grabbed the bag with his food inside and stepped away from the counter, “Thank you, Dahyun, we won’t be holding you back for longer.”

“No problem, see you soon!” She said with a smile, waving a little as Mingi nodded at her, barely returning her smile. It seemed almost like there was something wrong with him, but I couldn’t tell, I didn’t know him well. He could’ve been simply acting to gain our sympathy—I could see Mingi doing something like that, it didn’t seem too far from his atrocious character.

“Uh, thank you.” I thanked the girl quietly as I slightly bowed my head and she just smiled, waving at me as well as I quickly hurried after Mingi, who had stopped in the doorway, apparently waiting for me.

His hand reached out for the handle, but he hesitated for a second, not opening the door just yet, “It’s still raining…and you don’t have an umbrella…”

I raised an eyebrow as I took a sip of my hot tea, taking a glance at Mingi. He was looking ahead, eyes trained on the road through the glass doors. The sweet taste of wild berries exploded in my mouth and I bit my lip as the warm tea flushed down my throat, warming me up from the inside as I eagerly took another big gulp, slightly burning my tongue.

“Yeah, I don’t have an umbrella.” I said, the two of us looking at each other at the same time, “But it’s fine, I’m already drenched. I’ll just run home—”

“You’re already shivering and shaking constantly, Y/N.” Mingi said matter of fact, and I rolled my eyes almost instantly, “Let me drive you home.”

“You don’t have to, it doesn’t matter.” I muttered with a shrug and took another sip of my tea, but Mingi just shook his head and turned his body slightly towards mine.

“You keep sniffing and you are clearly cold, even if you say you aren’t.” He raised an eyebrow, pointing towards my flushed cheek—I could only hope I wouldn’t have a fever, “You’ll catch a cold at this point, just let me drive you home. It’s not a big deal, really.”

“Mingi,” I sighed loudly, giving him a glare, “I’m fine, I’m not cold and I won’t catch a cold—”

Almost as if the Universe—or my own body—was having a laugh at me, a sneeze forced its way through my nostrils, loud, and an obvious sign that I wasn’t doing too well currently. Mingi’s lips pressed into a thin line as he tried not to smile and suppress his chuckle, making me grumble to myself as I quickly drank the remaining tea, feeling slightly warmer.

“Still going to pass on that ride?” Mingi quirked an eyebrow as a smirk appeared on his lips and I scoffed, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Lead the way, Prince Charming.” I mocked, but it only made Mingi giggle as he pushed the door open, the breeze freezing as it suddenly hit me. I instantly shivered and made myself smaller, clutching myself around my middle.

“That’s my car.” Mingi pointed towards a black car across the street and suddenly he took off, pulling his hood over his head, running out into the rain. There was no oncoming traffic, so I quickly left the shop and ran across the road, headed for the passenger seat. As I got there, the car was unlocked and Mingi was pulling the key out of the lock and opening his side of the door quickly, jumping inside. I followed his lead and slammed the door closed after sitting inside, shivering and groaning at the cold gripping at my skin again, pressing myself back into the leather seat of Mingi’s car. He placed the food in the backseat, putting the keys into the ignition. He looked at me, lips slightly pursed.

“Uh,” For the first time in my life, Mingi looked embarrassed as he scratched his nape, “The car’s old so uhm—we’ll have to wait a little bit before we take off. For the engine to warm up and shit, you know.”

I hummed and gulped, grip tightening around the plastic cup I was still holding onto. I did not want to prolong my time spent together with Mingi, so why couldn’t his car work just fine? I watched him as he turned the key, but the engine didn’t start right away, screeching for a second as Mingi tried again, groaning with his eyebrows furrowed. I remained silent as I watched him struggle for a few more seconds until the engine finally rumbled to life, the sound louder than I expected. But it only lasted for another second before it settled down, the pouring rain overshadowing the sound of the old engine. Mingi went and pressed a few buttons on the dashboard and I allowed my muscles to relax slightly, noting the way I was still shaking. When will it stop? It was getting annoying. As if Mingi sensed my train of thoughts, he turned his head towards me and cleared his throat.

“Are you cold?” He asked, making me sigh as I shook my head no, refusing to admit that I couldn’t feel my feet anymore. Maybe if this old wreck could warm up faster I wouldn’t be shaking so much—and I knew Mingi’s car had zero faults right now, but I had to pour my irritation onto something instead of admitting defeat in front of him, “You’re very obviously cold, Y/N.”

I scoffed and my eyes snapped to him as he suddenly leaned more towards me, reaching for something in the backseat of the car, “If it’s so obvious, Mr. Obvious, do something about it—”

My mouth clamped shut the second Mingi was holding a black denim jacket in his hand with a lopsided smile, extending it towards me, “I am doing something about it, here, wear it.”

He let it fall into my lap before I could refuse him and suddenly my cheeks were on fire—and not from the cold. I cleared my throat loudly and averted my gaze as Mingi settled back into his seat with a small grin, watching me as I rolled my eyes, fumbling with the heavy jacket he had given me. I didn’t want to wear it—that was the last thing I actually wanted to do, but a violent shiver racked through my body and I was suddenly moving faster than lightning, groaning as my clothes were still stuck against my body. It was a horrible feeling, but at least Mingi’s seats were leather, easier to clean. I pulled the black denim jacket around my shoulders before putting each arm through the sleeves, trying to ignore Mingi’s eyes on me, and the amused smile he had on his face. It wasn’t funny—but it was probably entertaining to him. I wonder how many girls he took home like this before me, letting them wear his jacket only to flirt with them afterwards as a means of getting to sleep with them. Men were easy, and Mingi was one of them. I could see right through his bullshit, and so, despite the warmth and masculine scent enveloping my senses, I gave Mingi a sharp glare, making him chuckle.

“You’re so predictable,” He said quietly, almost as if to himself, but I heard him, and I scoffed, “You won’t thank me, right?”

“I’m still cold.” I evaded his question instead, giving him a look, but Mingi just giggled, the sound low and deep inside his chest. I watched as his features relaxed and found my heart beating faster once again as I realized that I was enclosed in a tiny space with him, barely a few feet away from each other. There was something different about Mingi all of a sudden as he threw his head back, sighing loudly and gripping the wheel. His eyes fluttered close and I couldn’t will myself to look away, suddenly curious of the man sitting next to me. Who was he? Why was he like this? But the confusing butterflies deep inside my stomach sent me into distress, and I averted my eyes as Mingi opened his, and realized it was becoming suffocating. The silence. I didn’t like it. Mingi wasn’t saying anything, the engine was still dully rumbling and the rain was hitting the roof of the old Honda Prelude loudly. It didn’t feel as restricting as earlier, but my throat was squeezing in on itself and without asking for permission, I reached forward and pressed a button on the stereo, turning the radio on.

The instrumental wasn’t something I have heard before, and the harsh beat of the drums resounded in the car loudly, making my heart jump. Soon, the drum was accompanied by the lively but soft melody of the guitar, guiding it through. It felt like a storm, the loud and harsh beats of the drums lead by the soft yet determined guitar. It was almost as if two sides of the coin were leaning on each other for support—almost as if one was desperate to be shown some light in the darkness. I saw Mingi shift in the corner of my eyes, and I was startled at the intense look in his eyes as he looked at me, lips parted and eyebrows drawn up. He seemed surprised but at the same time almost angry, it was a look I couldn’t read well yet. I didn’t understand why he was looking at me like that. Suddenly, the drums slightly softened, until they became silent, and the guitar guided the melody smoothly, bringing it a comforting feeling. Mingi and I were still looking at each other and I was about to ask why he was looking at me like that, but suddenly the raspy, yet warm, voice resounding in the car took me off guard as my eyes widened, leaving me gaping at Mingi.

『Cut me open and tell me what's inside

Diagnose me 'cause I can't keep wondering why

And no, it's not a phase 'cause it happens all the time

Start over, check again, now tell me what you find

'Cause I'm going out of frequency

Can anyone respond?』

His voice was smooth as the drums and guitar accompanied it, dropping lower at times and feeling like the caress of a whisper at the same time. Mingi’s face had turned emotionless once again as his eyes locked with mine, and I tried to give him a glare, but my mind was focused on the words he was singing—on the message behind his lyrics.

『It's like an avalanche, I feel myself go under

'Cause the weight of it's like hands around my neck

I never stood a chance, my heart has frozen over

And I feel like I am treading on thin ice』

The beat picked up again, the drums louder as the melody grew more aggressive, Mingi’s voice reflecting it and gliding with it. His voice was powerful and held sincerity as he sung, his words ringing through my mind as the raspiness of it became more hearable. I couldn’t hold Mingi’s gaze anymore and I swiftly turned my head, playing with the cup I had in my hands as I gulped, the melody slowing down once again.

『Am I broken? What's the chance I will survive?

Don't sugarcoat me 'cause I feel like suicide

Just give it to me straight, 'cause I'm running out of time

I need an antidote, now what can you prescribe?』

My eyebrows furrowed the longer I listened to his words, wondering if this is what he actually felt like. Wondering when he wrote this song. Wondering why and how was Mingi hiding such feelings locked away in himself, in a way that nobody would be able to see the real him. Why were his words so relatable and why did I suddenly find myself teary eyed, biting my lower lip to try and get a grip of myself again.

『It's like an avalanche, I feel myself go under

'Cause the weight of it's like hands around my neck

I never stood a chance, my heart has frozen over

And I feel like I am treading on thin ice, and I'm going under』

I wonder who made him feel like that. Who had hurt Mingi so much that he felt like he was on the verge of giving it all up. Did he still feel like that? Were the two of us not so much different from each other after all? I sniffed, turning my head to look out the window instead, scared that if I hung my head down the tears would actually fall.

『I need a cure for me 'cause the square doesn't fit the circle

Give me a remedy 'cause my head wasn't wired for this world

I need a cure for me 'cause the square doesn't fit the circle

Give me a remedy 'cause my head wasn't wired for this world』

My grip around the cup tightened and I heard Mingi shift in his seat again, but I didn’t turn around to look at him. Emotions and thoughts of all sorts were whirling in my head, and I couldn’t stop thinking. I haven’t really paid attention to what he sings in his songs before—not that I had many occasions to do so—but this one suddenly felt so familiar, as if there was at least one person in the world who understood my struggles too. I’ve had low points in life before, especially after Yunho left me, and I really felt like there was no way out for me. I didn’t know how to cope and what to do with myself, I became uncaring and closed myself off to the world, only talking to those necessary, and barely doing anything if I could. That was the only time in my life when my art didn’t help at all, when I couldn’t pick up my pencil out of fear of what my mind would conjure up to torment me with. My life revolved around Jeong Yunho, and I knew because of missing him, he would be the only thing I would be drawing. He was my muse, and I hated it for such a long time not realizing that it was in some twisted way helping with getting over him. I have memorized every single feature and flaw of his, knowing it by heart. It was freeing when I was able to highlight all the things I knew he hated about himself, it made it easier for me to remind myself that he wasn’t as perfect as I thought he was. It was just the idea I had created of him in my head.

My fingers were tapping against the cup, following the rhythm of the song as Mingi’s beautiful voice carried on singing, the melody wrapping me up in my thoughts, almost getting lost to the point where I wasn’t paying attention to the song anymore. But it was actually impossible to do that, Mingi had a way to keep you focused on himself even if he was just simply singing, his raspy and warm voice keeping you in a vice grip, making you yearn for more. As the song came to an end, I released a breath I didn’t even realize I had been holding. Mingi was swift as he leaned forward and turned off the stereo, clearing his throat loudly. For a few more seconds nothing was said between the two of us, silence enveloping around us once again. But I didn’t feel uncomfortable anymore, I felt—almost sad, but mostly curious of the making of this song. Of what prompted Mingi to write it. Why were his emotions so raw in this, and who caused him to feel like this.

“It wasn’t bad,” I found myself speaking up, not really thinking through my words first, “you’re not too bad at this, Mingi.”

I didn’t expect him to laugh, and as I turned my head, he was already looking at me with an amused look on his face, covering his mouth as his laughter got louder for a second. My eyebrows furrowed, and I was about to say something less nice to him, but I realized my compliment sounded oddly similar to the one I had gotten from him back at the library. Despite fighting against the smile wanting to appear on my lips, I quickly let out a chuckle, our eyes with Mingi connecting. Despite the depth of the song and the somber atmosphere it created, Mingi seemed to be almost ecstatic as he shrugged, drumming his fingers against the wheel. Subconsciously, I nuzzled further into the collar of the denim jacket, the cologne stronger as I inhaled it, reminded that I was wearing Mingi’s jacket. I didn’t miss the way a fond smile appeared on his face for a few moments, quickly disappearing as he cleared his throat and looked ahead, pressing some other buttons on the dashboard.

“Thank you, getting a compliment from a fine arts genius certainly feels like I have won a Grammy or something.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes as Mingi chuckled, grinning at me for a second before he turned his body fully towards me, taking me off guard, “I wrote this song a long time ago, when—well, there’s nothing to hide here, when Yunho left for college. When I—remained alone at home, here in this town. Nothing was set in stone yet, to be honest, I had absolutely no idea what to do with my life back then. I was eighteen and I was confused and scared. The pressure of figuring out what you wanted to do with your life at such a young age was frightening and breaking me down, to be honest. I’ve always struggled mentally—you know, with depression and anxiety—and I think that period of time was the lowest I had ever been.”

I was soaking in every word Mingi was saying, mind silent and eyes focused on him, wanting to hear more as he continued talking, “Yunho was always the stronger one between the two of us and he always knew from a young age what he wanted to do, so when I realized I hadn’t planned my future ahead like him, I lost myself. And he—left, to college—in a different city. Hours away, leaving me all alone. I know I might sound dramatic, but I don’t deal well with change. I never have and I never will, I’m afraid. It took me almost a year to finally get used to living alone and sometimes I still struggle, it’s really frustrating. So you can imagine how badly I took my best friend, whom I have never been separated from before and we’ve known each other since kindergarten, leaving and abandoning me in the small town I have always hated and had no future in. I fell into deep depression and nothing was helping, like at all. Not even Yunho returning home out of the blue after two weeks of no contact on my part. When he saw the state I was in, we—we cried for hours, Y/N. It was horrible. I hate making him feel like that, because it wasn’t his fault, it was all mine.”

My eyebrows furrowed and my heart clenched upon hearing Mingi’s words, quietly letting out a breath which felt like it was restricting my lungs. In this moment, I heard my own thoughts and feelings in Mingi. His struggles and pain, I understood them. My fingers crushed the cup accidentally, but thankfully Mingi didn’t seem to notice as he took a deep breath and continued, “I wanted to kill myself. If Yuyu wouldn’t have come home in that exact moment—I don’t think we’d be having this conversation right now.”

My eyebrows furrowed and without really thinking, my left hand reached over the center console and I found myself gripping Mingi’s right hand, his skin so much hotter than mine. He bit his lower lip, eyebrows twitching as he averted his gaze all of a sudden, turning his hand upwards so that my fingers could slip over his palm. It was weird how easily my skin tingled at the contact; thoughts silent for once.

“He suggested I find a way of getting these thoughts and feelings out of myself. And after he left once again I knew I had to do something unless I planned on completely losing my mind, so…I took a pen and paper and started writing. Everything I felt, everything I thought. And miraculously, it worked. Slowly, of course, but it started working. I found a good therapist as well and suddenly I could see a way out of this dark cloud hung up around my head, fogging my thoughts up. I searched for a beat on YouTube and realized I could turn these thoughts and feelings into music. And they didn’t even sound bad, but what was most important was that I enjoyed doing it. I felt free, I felt like I could finally say anything I ever wanted. And I knew if this helped me, then it would help others as well, let them know they weren’t alone, and that you can go on even if it seems like you can’t. I wrote this song right before signing up to our university and sent it in as a sample. I was granted access to the studious a week later, and two weeks later accepted to the university. It’s probably one of my happiest memories, especially since Yunho surprised me that day by coming home and celebrating it with me.”

As Mingi was done talking, silence settled between the two of us. Comforting, understanding. I looked down at my lap, mind a whirlwind of thoughts all of a sudden, threatening to rush out at once. The sudden thumb sweeping against my knuckles made me slightly tense, realizing that I was completely holding hands with Mingi. My cheeks burned all of a sudden and my heart jumped, yet despite my thoughts telling me to pull my hand out of his, I didn’t move just yet. The feeling—wasn’t so bad.

“My sketchbook—the one you flipped through without my permission—” I sent Mingi a small glare as he snorted, cutting me off for a second, “is like my journal. I doddle in it daily, sometimes I even write little messages next to the sketches, noting down the things on my mind or just simply how my day went. When I draw, my mind is completely silent, I feel at ease. There’s nothing bothering me and I don’t have to worry in that moment of what the next line will illustrate or what the overall drawing will be. My thoughts are often too loud and I get overwhelmed by them, it’s hard to ignore them, you know? But by drawing, I can escape them and free myself even for a little while, it’s similar to what you must feel when you write music. Just letting go and releasing everything you feel.”

Mingi’s eyes were warm and soft as a small smile appeared on his lips, his skin suddenly burning mine and as my heartbeat showed no signs of slowing down, so, I carefully slipped my hand out of his, turning ahead and staring out at the pouring rain, feeling exposed and too small, “I understand what it must’ve felt like going through all of that. There was a time in my life, when—my whole world revolved around one person only and when—when he left, I thought I would die. I didn’t want to continue on living, to be completely honest. But with time, and thanks to my mother and Seulgi, I built myself back up. It’s fine now—I mean, I’m fine now.”

Mingi just hummed and I could feel his gaze on me as I leaned forward in the seat, rubbing my face as I felt fatigue settle over my whole being. At least I wasn’t shaking anymore, the car had warmed up significantly and my clothes weren’t sticking to my skin so violently anymore.

“Everyone has their story, Y/N.” Mingi spoke up, and I could hear the smile in his voice, “And it was very obvious to me that your attitude towards me is just a defense mechanism—”

“Oh, don’t get too cocky now that I’ve shared something so insignificant from my life.” I snapped as I turned my head, giving him a small glare. Mingi chuckled, holding his hands up in a way that said he wasn’t trying to attack me.

“I don’t think it’s insignificant—”

“Mingi.”

“Tell me something…” He trailed off and I sighed loudly, not in the mood to converse anymore. I wanted to go home, “Are those eyes really Yunho’s in your sketchbook? Because I really don’t think they are. I mean, I know what my own eyes like look and—”

“Whatever, they are yours, okay?” I snapped defensively as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, cutting Mingi off. I knew I should’ve never confessed to him that those were indeed his eyes, because now the shit eating grin he had on his lips and the way his eyes sparkled weren’t worth it. Not when my cheeks felt on fire, and I knew it wasn’t from the warmth inside the car.

“I knew it!” He said triumphantly, giggling a little, making me role my eyes.

“Just because you have pretty eyes doesn’t mean I’m in love with you.” I scoffed and suddenly Mingi froze, staring at me like I said something wrong. I raised my eyebrows at him in question.

“I never said you were in love with me.” Shit. I scoffed and rolled my eyes again, giving him a deadpan look.

“Very well, can’t have you thinking that now that you know those are your eyes.” Mingi laughed, again, as he playfully leaned towards me, making my glare deepen.

“So, you think I’m pretty?” He bit his lower lip and my brain blanked for a second as my eyes ran over his face quickly, taking in his features. Yes, he was very pretty—what the fuck?!

“Just because you have features which are easy to draw, Mingi, doesn’t mean I think you’re pretty. Have I told you already that you’re self-absorbed?” I raised my eyebrows mockingly as I clicked my tongue and Mingi chuckled as he faced forward, turning on the windshield wipers.

“Yes, quite a few times, actually.” I scoffed, putting on my seatbelt when I saw Mingi doing the same.

“Just take me home.” I muttered as I turned my head and looked out the window.

“Tell me your address first.” Mingi’s tone was playful as he turned on the stereo again, this time a channel of a radio playing music in Mingi’s vintage car as he slowly drove off.

After arriving home I had taken a very long and very hot shower, letting my body stay under the stream for a long time, probably making my mother think that I was drowning. I could feel my muscles finally relaxing, the shivers completely gone from my body as I dressed into my warmest pajamas once I got out of the shower, blow-drying my hair quickly, eager to get underneath my warm blanket. Thankfully my mother wasn’t angry at all by the time I got home, she was waiting for me with two mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows, and a big hug. She didn’t want to tell me where her sudden affection was coming from, but she said she knew there was something wrong, and that I could go to her the next time I’m struggling. It’s funny how she always knows what the problem is, yet I don’t want to burden her furthermore with my own dramatic emotions.

After drinking the hot chocolate and having a laugh with my mother over the comedy show she was watching in her room, I finally retreated to my own room, under the oh, so warm blanket. I couldn’t help but sigh contently and nuzzle even further into the pillow under my head, grateful to be finally able to rest. But as if the Universe was out against me tonight—and it probably was hence the shitshow today was—sleep never came to me. I was beyond tired, yet I couldn’t sleep. I felt slightly restless, as if I had to do something and I wouldn’t be able to rest until I have done it—and that was drawing. The image in my head was begging for me to be released onto a blank canvas, but I wished it could wait until tomorrow—but it couldn’t, so, with a loud sigh, I sat up and turned on my lamp. The sketchbook was bigger than the one I use as a journal since I rarely use it outside of class, but for what I wanted to draw tonight I needed the bigger one. I flipped it open to a new page and grabbed my pencil, twirling it around my fingers as I sectioned the blank paper, searching for the right angle to start the drawing.

First, I settled on drawing the outlines with faded lines, the background not the most important but since it played a part in the spacing of the drawing, I had to start with that. I went and first did the outline of the car from the inside, adding shading to show where the streetlamps couldn’t reach as the car drove down the empty road, gloomy clouds raining down on us, making the roads slippery and reducing visibility, but Mingi was an attentive and calm driver as he hummed and nodded his head to the beat of the music playing on the radio. His jaw was set and eyes focused up front, on the road, eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed and lower lip quite often between his teeth as he bit into the supple flesh, his lips cherry colored and plump. His jawline long, and sharp; and cheekbones well defined, yet not too sharp; his brow bone more forward, giving him an intimidating look from the side with his eyebrows drawn together. His nose, tall, and long, and pointy—too pretty. I cleared my throat and shook my head, focusing on drawing the rest of Mingi’s features and willing my brain to shut up about whether Mingi was pretty or not—he wasn’t. I couldn’t help but draw the sunglasses he wore so hideously backwards, ruining his overall nice look, making me grimace as I darkened his hair by adding more shading to it. I illustrated the shadows falling over his face as well, his gaze slightly obscured from my view. His long fingers gripped the wheel tightly, the gemstones of his rings glinting whenever the light fell on it in a peculiar way, and I couldn’t help but recall the feeling of his skin against mine as drew the lines defining the muscle of his hands. Just as I went to draw his neck, my phone pinged, slightly startling me as it was loud. It was placed on my nightstand and I groaned as I had to lean over half of my bed to reach it. And as I took my phone into my hands, my heart skipped a beat.

I hate him: are u asleep?

I glanced at the clock and realized it would be soon midnight, I had to get this drawing done and then go to sleep as I had class early in the morning tomorrow. Besides, I didn’t want to talk to Mingi. Why was he texting me? Just because we shared a few sappy stories about ourselves doesn’t mean that we have suddenly become best friends, sharing even more life stories with each other—and most certainly Mingi had no business texting me this late at night. With a huff, I let my phone fall next to me as I continued to draw, focusing on my creation instead. Drawing the neck was easy and quick and I focused on adding little details to it instead, the silver chains he had hanging against his neck tonight, peeking through the collar of his black hoodie. I continued drawing the rest of his body, his arms and torso as well as I could as they weren’t too essential to the drawing as of now. I only wanted to draw Mingi’s profile as he drove, the darkness combined with the streetlamps casting beautiful shadows over his flawless face. But drawing Mingi, knowing that Mingi had texted me all of a sudden felt weird, and I sighed as I dropped my pencil, grabbing my phone again as I unlocked it. He had sent the message five minutes ago, that was enough time for him to fall asleep so even if I text him he’ll only see this in the morning and if he’ll answer I won’t have to text him back anymore—because I didn’t want to be texting with Mingi, at all.

Me: no. u?

As I went to close my phone, his reply came instantly, leaving me surprised. There goes my plan of Mingi being asleep and not having to talk to him tonight…

I hate him: nope, why aren’t u sleeping? Me: i can’t sleep. u?

I chewed on my bottom lip as I shuffled around for a second to be able to sit cross legged in my bed.

I hate him: yeah, same. the rain makes it hard for me to sleep…i hate rain, actually, especially the thunder.

I almost went ahead and typed back that I knew, but Mingi wasn’t supposed to know that. Mingi had no idea Yunho and I had dated back in highschool—Mingi had no idea how much I actually knew about him due to Yunho, and I intended on keeping that a secret from him. I didn’t want to wake up old ghosts in my heart which would bring pain once again.

Me: ig i’m fine with rain as long as i’m somewhere inside, but the humidity kills me. it’s the winter time i actually hate…i can’t deal with cold weather, i get easily sick…

I rubbed my forehead as I pressed send and sighed as I lowered my phone into my lap, suddenly aware of the weird butterflies in my stomach, making me almost nauseous. As I glanced back down at my phone, the three bubbles signaling that Mingi was typing back appeared, and I had to take a deep breath to settle my erratic heartbeat. What was happening? Why was my body reacting in such a weird way?

I hate him: oh, yeah, i totally get the winter thing as someone who loves dressing light. i feel like i am more myself in the summer time lol; my style rocks during the summer and then gets okay-ish during the winter, it’s sad actually…

I chuckled and smirked as I quickly typed back.

Me: why? cuz you can’t show off your biceps during the winter? I hate him: ha-ha aren’t u so funny tonight? Me: i’m always funny, mingi…

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I quickly sent the message despite Mingi still typing.

I hate him: u wish u were always funny, doll…if someone’s funny then that person is me, y/n Me: yeah, right, u wish, prince I hate him: aren’t u just in a delightful mood tonight, doll?

I scoffed but couldn’t fight off the amused smile from my lips.

Me: it’s all thanks to you, idiot I hate him: i think I prefer u calling me prince, actually… Me: u wish, idiot. I hate him: anyways, what’s your favorite season?

I raised an eyebrow as I read the text from Mingi.

Me: interesting question I hate him: well u said u didn’t like winter, so what do you like then? Me: not u, that’s for sure…

I couldn’t help but cackle at my own reply, feeling proud of myself over such little thing. I could imagine Mingi chuckling and shaking his head at it, perhaps glaring down at his phone.

Me: autumn or spring, really…not too cold nor too warm, in-between, just perfect u know?

There was a second of nothing until the bubbles popped up again, making me realize I was smiling down at my phone, so I quickly cleared my throat and got it together. There was nothing to be smiling at here.

I hate him: i get it, those seasons are really pretty…talking of pretty…do you really think i’m pretty?

I couldn’t help the loud scoff which left my lips at the same time as I rolled my eyes, very tempted to leave him on read and just go to sleep right then and there.

Me: i have already told you, mingi, i don’t think u are pretty because u a r e n ‘t, get it???

The reply was instant.

I hate him: hahahahahahaha; u are cute!

My body froze for a second, eyebrows furrowing as I reread his reply. What the fuck? Me? Cute? Yeah, sure, cute my ass—this idiot was testing my patience and kindness, once again.

Me: u’re disgusting, I’m blocking u I hate him: whatever u say, gorgeous, I know u a r e n ‘t!!!

My jaw clenched at the blatant mocking and I scoffed loudly as I looked ahead, glaring at nothing particular as my blood was boiling. He really thought I wouldn’t block him? There was nothing holding me back from doing so—suddenly the bubbles appeared again, and I looked down at my phone—just slightly curious.

I hate him: sorry if that was too much, i was just joking. i wanted to ask something all night, but i just didn’t know whether the timing was right or not or just whatever, but…are u okay? like…do you feel okay?

I gulped, my anger dissipating like it never even happened, leaving me confused. Was he now worried about me? Why would he be?

Me: i’m ok, why?

It took a little time for Mingi to answer, and it made me gulp as I read it.

I hate him: bcz your eyes were red when we met in front of the restrooms and idk…u just kinda felt off or smth…i just wanted to make sure. Me: i had a rough day, but i’m fine… thanks for asking ig… I hate him: ofc, anytime

Did he mean that? I couldn’t help but wonder. But there were so many things about Mingi that I didn’t know yet and…something changed tonight. I couldn’t completely hate him like before. The conversation we had in his car, the things he willingly shared with me were so personal and hard, yet he trusted me with them. I couldn’t help but feel good about it, thankful in a way, that despite my demeanor he still found me worthy of knowing about his past—of knowing of the backstory of said song we have listened to. I thought Mingi was all smirks and a cocky attitude, nothing in that empty and self-centered brain of his—yet he pretty much proved me wrong today, and for some reason I didn’t seem to mind too much. I couldn’t help but bite my lower lip as I looked down at my phone, realizing that it was past midnight now, I had to go to sleep.

Me: goodnight, i have classes early in the morning… I hate him: sweet dreams, y/n…see u at uni.

『I'm going out of frequency

Can anyone respond?

'Cause I'm going out of frequency

Can anyone respond?』

❱❱ Next chapter

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jacksdinonuggets · 2 months

Text

~Fight Nights~

Y'ALL I HAD AN IDEA AND I WROTE IT.

Summary: Vaggie has a fight with Charlie and needs comfort. However, the only other person she can run to is Carmilla

Vaggie stormed out of the hotel, angry, and on the brink of tears. She and Charlie had just gotten into a fight. They didn’t fight often so it really affected them when they did. The reason that they fought? Vaggie was suppressing her negative emotions again, therefore keeping a secret. This made Charlie pretty upset since she wanted them to have a mutual relationship and not just one protector. However, Vaggie viewed herself as someone who couldn’t show weakness so she got pretty worked up when Charlie confronted her about it. She didn’t mean to turn it into an argument. It just sort of happened.

Anyways, she just really needed comfort from someone and the only other person she could really go to was carmilla. She had been taking fighting lessons once a week with her and sometimes, she would even teach a little bit of ballet so she could learn to dance-fight. At first, they would just go back and forth with returning weapons and paying some loans and business stuff but then they started to get a bit personal. Sometimes, if Vaggie was having a bad day, Carmilla would invite her into her office and they would talk about whatever was bothering her before they practiced.

So, still slightly pissed and more emotional than ever, she walked to her warehouse that was also just her normal house. She knocked on the big metal doors, hanging her head low. Now was not the time to cry.

The doors opened after a couple of seconds and Carmilla greeted her at the door.

“Vaggie, what brings you here? It is not our normal practice day,” She questioned as she urged the girl inside.

“I just-... I needed someplace safe to cool down. Me and Charlie had a fight,” Vaggie explained. Talking had never seemed as hard as it did at that moment. It felt like with every word she was about to break down into tears. Usually, if she was feeling like this, she would go to Charlie and the two would cuddle, spend time together, or have little time. But she couldn’t because she felt wrong for having to want comfort from the person she just fought with. It would be awkward and strange.

Carmilla sighed, “How about you meet me in my office and i’ll bring up a cup of tea. Then you can tell me all about it, ‘kay?” Vaggie nodded and started walking up the stairs. She passed the big doors that lead into the main house area and went towards the office.

As Vaggie was waiting, she could feel her headspace teetering. It was a weird feeling to want to be taken care of and comforted by basically a stranger. But somehow she grew sort of attached to her.

When Carmilla returned, she had two cups of tea in her hand. She gave one to Vaggie, who was sitting on the couch. She nodded a thank you and took a sip. Carmilla sat next to her and put her’s on the coffee table.

“Alright, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” she prompted. Vaggie took a deep breath and began.

“Charlie had begun to notice that i was hiding my vulnerable emotions and lying whenever she would ask if i was okay. I get overwhelmed easily but I would say i was fine whenever someone would ask, just to not be seen as weak. Well, she noticed and confronted me about it. We got into this huge fight and she brought up how i haven’t regressed-” Shit, she can’t tell her that. That’s too personal. Plus, what if she thinks its weird? “Uh- I mean used this one coping mechanism in a month or two and that i was repressing it,” wow, great save there.

“Anyways, she hit a few nerves that I know she probably regrets. I said a few things I’m not proud of, but it still hurts. Its like, I really want a hug but I can’t get it because she’s the only one I have who can comfort and love me!” Vaggie spiraled. At this point, she didn’t even care that she was talking to a dangerous overlord. She just needed to rant. And rant she did.

“Would it make you feel better if I gave you a hug?” Carmilla offered. She saw how Vaggie looked as though she desperately needed one. It was like looking at a small panicking child. You just needed to help them. In a way, Vaggie reminded her of her daughters. And Carmilla reminded Vaggie of a mother in a way. Not like she’s ever known hers, being a heavenborn orphan whose only family consisted of exorcists who bullied her.

Vaggie nodded. Carmilla wrapped her arms around the small, short girl and gave a reassuring squeeze. Vaggie had never wanted to cry more than did right now. It was overwhelming. But not exactly in a bad way. She felt this strange, clingy emotion towards her.

Carmilla was about to pull away but she felt something stopping her. Vaggie’s arms were gripping her waist like her life depended on it and she could feel something wet on her collarbone where Vaggie had her head. She hadn’t even noticed the girl start crying. But nonetheless, she rubbed her back and comforted her, just like she would with her daughters.

“Shh, it's okay, I’ve got you,” she whispered in a soothing motherly tone, the one she never uses with strangers or in combat.

Vaggie’s headspace dipped so far when those words were spoken. She felt so small, like a toddler in Carmilla’s big embrace.

“Mama..” Vaggie mumbled into her chest. It was very muffled and quiet though.

Carmilla noticed the words spoken from vaggie and knew that the girl’s headspace had dropped. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what regression was.

“Mama’s here, sweetie,” she gently told her.

The two hugged for what seemed to be 5 minutes until Vaggie calmed down. She didn’t want to let go though. It felt so good to feel loved.

“It seems like it’s past your bedtime, little one,” she said when they pulled apart. Vaggie pouted but was noticeably tired. It was about 9:30 and her little brain could only stay up so late.

“Come on, I’ve got a spare room you can use.” she stood up and signalled for her to follow her. However, she Vaggie was having some trouble standing. She kept falling over. Having one eye and being small didn’t mix well for balance.

Carmila bent over and picked her up. She held her by her hip as she carried her out of the office, their tea forgotten. She walked towards the big doors that led to the main house area. When she opened the doors, Clara and Odette were sitting in the living room on the couch. They looked up to see their mother carrying the princesses girlfriend? It confused them but Carmilla mouthed ‘I’ll explain later’.

When they approached the guest room, Carmilla was able to hold Vaggie with one hand for about a second to open the door. They didn’t have any spare pajamas so Vaggie would have to sleep in her current clothes. They didn’t seem too uncoomfortable though.

Carmila laid her down in the bed and pulled the covers over her, tucking her in.

“Wha’ bout Char-Char?” Vaggie rubbed her eyes. The big kid in her knew that Charlie would be expecting her to be home in about an hour and would definitely begin freaking out if she wasn’t home by then.

“I’ll let her know you’re staying the night,” Carmilla said in a hushed voice, “For now, its ni-ni,”

Once she was done tucking her in she turned off the lights and left, but not before cracking the door just in case Vaggie needed anything during the night. Then, she went back downstairs to explain the situation to her daughters. They seemed pretty okay with it and promised not to spread it, as Carmilla knew it was something she’d probably like to keep a secret. In the end, Carmila never expected to be the mother of three, yet here she was.

#agere fanfic #agere writing #safe agere #sfw agere #age regression #hazbin hotel agere #sfw littlespace #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel carmilla #carmilla carmine #Carmilla Carmine is Vaggie's caregiver #hazbin hotel age regression #hazbin hotel littlespace

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edosianorchids901 · 4 months

Text

Our Outcast State

For the Ace Omens Hugfest 2024! Prompt - "a hug from behind"

Aziraphale tilted his head, watching the humans as they played and laughed and touched each other. He’d spent much of the past decades watching the humans from afar. They seemed so happy together.

Aziraphale wasn’t allowed to socialize with them, of course. Angels couldn’t become involved with the things of the world.

But oh, being alone made his tummy ache in such a strange way. The ache got worse whenever he saw humans wrapping their arms around each other and squeezing. It seemed to be very soothing for them. Whenever there was a sad human, one of the others hugged them, and then everyone smiled so much.

He put his arms around himself and squeezed. It felt quite odd, and it didn’t make him feel much like smiling. Perhaps it didn’t work with just one person. But it wasn’t as though he could walk up to a human and hug them. They didn’t know him.

“Oh!” He clapped his hands together as the realization hit. “Yes. Yes, that will be lovely.”

Cheered up already, Aziraphale wandered out of the tiny village and down a narrow path through the reeds that lined the riverbank. He’d seen Crawley over here just the other day, at the edge of the marsh trying to talk to some of the local snakes. They hadn’t seemed to understand what he was saying, and Crawley left with a rather dejected look.

Well, now Aziraphale knew just how to cheer him up! A nice hug, that would do the trick. And then he would smile, and Aziraphale would smile, and they would be quite happy together.

Dusk fell before Aziraphale found his adversary. Crawley stood near the river, head tilted back, gazing up at the glittering stars as they peeked out through the lavender haze. He was turned away from Aziraphale, but his expression was no doubt quite glum again. It always got glum when he saw his stars. He seemed to miss them very much.

This really was the perfect time for a hug, when he already needed cheering up. Aziraphale walked up behind Crawley, wrapped his arms around the slender waist, and squeezed.

Instead of smiling, Crawley screamed.

“Oh!” Startled, Aziraphale let go at the same time that Crawley wrenched against the hold. Crawley slipped in the mud, teetered for a moment, and then toppled into the river with another cry. “Oh, Crawley! Here, let me help.”

Aziraphale splashed into the water and reached out, but Crawley struck his hand away. “What the Heaven are you doing?”

“I… I…” Sudden tears rose, and Aziraphale found it hard to breathe. “I wanted to hug you.”

Crawley seemed to be having trouble breathing too, but in an entirely different way. He sprawled in the shallows, hand pressed to his heaving chest. He took quick gasping breaths, breaths that just kept speeding up, breaths that raced entirely out of control.

“Oh no. Oh no.” Trembling, Aziraphale knelt in the shallows too. He clutched his hands together, trying to prevent himself from reaching out. “Crawley? Crawley, did I hurt you? Oh, of course I did. I’m so sorry, that wasn’t my intention at all, I just—”

“Shut. Up,” Crawley gritted. He huddled forward, breaths wheezing now, and squeezed his eyes shut. “M’ fine, just leave me alone.”

A few of Aziraphale’s tears escaped, and he hastily wiped his cheeks. As his hand was rather wet from splashing in the river, he only managed to make that situation much worse, too.

“I’m sorry.” Instinct screamed at him to stay, to guard Crawley while he was clearly in distress. But it was Aziraphale’s fault that he was in distress. “I’ll go. I’m sorry.”

Before he could rise, Crawley grabbed his wrist. Crawley’s lips moved a few times, as if he’d tried to speak and failed. His eyes had gone quite glassy, and he swayed slightly as the gentle rippling water flowed around them.

Unsure what to do, Aziraphale stayed entirely still and just let Crawley cling to his wrist. That did seem to be helping, at least somewhat. Crawley’s breaths slowed after a while, and his shoulders relaxed.

Finally, he looked up with still glassy eyes. “Aziraphale? Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. But seriously, come on, why did you think it was a good idea to sneak up on me like that?”

“I… don’t know. I knew you’d be sad, because you miss your stars, and I just thought it was the perfect moment for a great big hug to cheer you up.” Now that he said it, it sounded like rather poor reasoning. “But why did you scream?”

“Because you snuck up on me! Didn’t know if you were attacking me, or planning to toss me in the river, or what.” Crawley snarled, looking around at the water. “I mean, I guess you did toss me in the river.”

“I certainly did not,” Aziraphale said, indignant. “You tossed yourself in the river while attempting to flee.”

“Demons don’t flee.”

“Whatever you wish to call it.” After a deep breath, Aziraphale calmed himself somewhat. “It was my fault though, I admit. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it would frighten you, Crawley. I just wanted to make you smile.”

Oddly enough, a tiny little smile twitched onto Crawley’s face. “Hhn. Well. I guess I appreciate the thought, even if you did it in a way that made me think you were murdering me.”

“I shall certainly refrain from such things in the future. No more hugs.” Aziraphale’s tummy twisted again, and he pressed his hand to it. “I suppose we ought to get out of the river. May I help?”

Crawley nodded, and Aziraphale helped him to his feet. They clambered onto the bank together, where Crawley paused and looked up again. “Stunning night, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale followed his gaze to the stars above. Aside from the area near the rising moon, which had washed out the surrounding area, they glittered magnificently. “It is, truly. Um. May I ask you a question?”

Crawley, still dripping wet, glanced to him. “Hm?”

“You often look, well. Rather glum, when you’re stargazing.” It might be a mistake to ask this, but it seemed to be Aziraphale’s day for mistakes. “Why do you watch the stars if it makes you sad?”

“Nnnh, dunno.” Crawley gave a little shrug and looked up again. “I like seeing ‘em, even if I can’t hang out there. Same reason you watch the humans even though it makes you sad.”

“What? Watching the humans doesn’t make me sad!” Aziraphale stepped back, quite affronted. Crawley raised an eyebrow at him. “Admittedly, I… I do sometimes feel a bit like…”

“Like an outcast?” Crawley asked, tone bleak.

Aziraphale opened his mouth to argue that he, an angel of the Lord, tasked to watch over humanity, was most certainly not an outcast. Then he thought of how long it had been since he’d seen another angel, and of his orders not to socialize with the humans. He closed his mouth.

“Yup. That’s what I thought.” Blowing out a long breath, Crawley gathered his damp hair and tied it back with a cord. He gnawed on his lip, rocking his weight from foot to foot. Then he gave a little sigh. “Look, I know you weren’t trying to scare me, with the hug. I just… In Hell no one ever touches me unless they’re hitting me.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale clutched his hands together, tummy aching all the more now. “Oh, it’s no wonder you thought I was going to hurt you. I really am truly so very—”

“Seriously, it’s okay.” Crawley gestured, and his dripping robe stopped dripping. Aziraphale found that his own robe was miraculously dry as well. “You couldn’t have known. Bet no one ever touches you either, eh?”

“Um. Well, no.” Aziraphale gave a nervous laugh. “Not even to hit me.”

That was likely an awful thing to say. But Crowley snorted, smiling a little again. “M’ glad of that, at least. But look. My point is… oooh, there’s ducks, look.”

Crawley’s smile widened, and he pointed to the river. Somewhat befuddled by the change of topic, Aziraphale turned to the river. There were indeed ducks. “Oh! That’s nice.”

“Yeah! I like watching them, too. Honestly, being up here and watching everyone else hang out in big groups is loads better than being down in Hell, with those big groups. M’ not exactly a popular guy.” Crawley glanced back at Aziraphale, a bit of an odd look. Intense, as if carefully peeling him apart to inspect his innards. “At a guess, you’re not super popular in Heaven, are you?”

Aziraphale huffed. “There’s no need to be rude.”

“It’s a compliment, angel.” Crawley grinned broadly, and despite the topic, Aziraphale found himself smiling too. Oh. Being around someone happy made him feel much happier. “But anyway, my point is. You are I are in the same boat here, eh? Outcasts of sorts, both among our own lot and here. Seems to me that we should stick together.”

Aziraphale considered that. “Well, I-I don’t know about the same boat. Two boats, near each other, in the same stream.”

“If you like.”

Oh, he liked. He also felt quite guilty for liking. “And what are we supposed to be doing in our two boats, near each other, in the same stream?”

A slightly more serious look returned to Crawley’s face, and he gave a little side to side sway. “I know you said no more hugs, but I wouldn’t mind trying it. Provided it’s not a sneak attack.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale wiggled excitedly. He opened his arms, careful not to move. “In that case. I’d like that very much, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Sounds like it could feel good.” Moving a little hesitantly, Crawley stepped closer, into the circle of Aziraphale’s arms.

This time, Aziraphale hugged him with significantly more caution. He gave a light squeeze, and Crawley squeezed back. “How’s that, my dear fellow? All right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s nice.” Crawley squeezed him once more, then stepped back. He was smiling. “We could make a habit of that, if you like. It’d probably be good for us.”

Aziraphale smiled in response. “I’d like that very much indeed.”

Crawley turned to gaze up at the stars again, and this time Aziraphale joined him. They stood on the side of the riverbank, happily chatting and enjoying the beauty of Creation together.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #ace omens hugfest 2024

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