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yandere-monoma · 7 months

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WHOOO KYM 2 COMMENTARY while i stall on working on kym 7

lots to discuss about a chapter literally called 'the exposition' hjgkfsg. if you didnt know, the way ao3 multichap updates works is that you dont necessarily have to title a oneshot chapter but the second you update it, you really get shown the option to title your chapters. so it didnt actually occur to me that i needed names for each one until chapter 2. i believe originally i was going to use a similar system as kyd where every chapter title was a command a la homestuck. however, i wasn't really utilizing the commands in the same way, i didn't really end the previous chapter with one and the plan for the next chapter... technically involves a command but not one i wanted to spoil via the chapter title.

the current naming system came into existence probably 3/4s of the way or more into writing this chapter, once i made the realization that the fic was, in fact, going to be at least five chapters. at this point in time, the plan was the following: the introduction, the exposition, the climax, the ending, the epilogue. this changed even more as time went on and more chapter ideas rudely crammed themselves into my brain, though it helped the structure a lot, because giving me time to fill out the space between exposition and climax made my brain happy HJSKFG

so, moving on, the fun part about chap 2 is that it really establishes the 'narration' as its own living function, something that is vaguely independent of the story rather than just a tool to present the story with, that both voices the author's and the character's thoughts depending on who is grabbing for control. this isn't an aspect i planned when outlining the fic but it's definitely influenced by 1) how much fun i had reading the epilogues and subsequent epilogue flavored fics 2) my desire to find some way to one-up the first chapter despite the topic matter not being nearly as extreme 3) the impulse to add in another experimental element to the story, especially now that the more abstract and poetic style of the first chapter was being removed

it's also incredibly fun to play with, because every time i struggled with describing something or wondered how i could transition from one point to the other, i realized - oh! i can just make the narrator state that very thing. don't know how i'm gonna build up from the end of chap 1 to the narrative goal of chap 2 (rose's mkultra moment)??? let's just get that all out in the open, then! problem SOLVED

it ended up being a hugely fun choice that allowed me to inject some humor into what's otherwise just a big ole pile o' unrelenting angst. it also helped me take myself less seriously, which lent me even more creative freedom than usual, like. GOD. it really helped turn this piece into something so rewarding, it overwhelms me. goddamnit homestuck why do you have to be so good

i just rewatched butterfly effect recently, god. back to the future i've never seen though. time references haha get it cuz his aspect is still time-

speaking of time, this chapter was the first attempt to really try and describe a zeta kid's classpect without coming out and stating it. there's a few interpretations of different phenomena's in homestuck that point out the implication of classpect powers being active before reaching god tier, or even before entering the game (though, usually in a way that is incredibly weak, premature and subtle enough to be missed by the user). one of the strongest examples that i based this chapter on was something the epilogues described: the idea that rose's obsessive writing as a child was based on her light powers feeding her vague visions of her future character arcs and plotlines. i really loved that and wanted a similar sort of plight for dave. i'll go off about what his specific title is at the end of this chapter but it's really fun poking at it now and then

the multiple narrators? seriously??? bit was me realizing i had to add a Multiple Narrators tag on ao3 after this. at this point of writing, i had no idea if i would be visiting anyone else's pov besides dave's, though.

attempt at homestuckian humor GO

™️ jokes are so funny to me for no reason

wink wink hint hint this is one of dave's powers at work, actually!! so, dave egbert actually has a perfect memory. like, there is not a single thing he's ever forgotten in his life, if he's experienced it, he can recollect that knowledge. this power also extends to the imaginary, the subconscious, and the supernatural, ie: in the event that dave experiences any visions of the future, he will retain that information. likewise, he has memories of every dream and nightmare he's ever had. which is fun because considering he's a dersite and also a time player and also dave, he has a lot of them HAHA. more on that later

The two of you had hit it off instantly despite this, like you had known each other your entire lives, like any and every other relationship that had come before it had merely been a warm-up for the monumental connection that would spark instantly between you both. ... You’re pretty convinced she’s your soulmate. If not that, you’re at least assured by the fact that you’re absolutely head over heels in love with her.

sentences i had so much fun writing knowing how badly it's going to mess dave up to learn that they're actually related HA HA

Especially at the start, Rose was mysterious and she was hilarious and she was overwhelming, the brightest thing you’ve ever had the fortune of witnessing.

get it because she's a hero of light get it she's the light of his life because shes a hero of light get it get it she's mysterious because her class mimics its opposite at the beginning of the story so everything about her pre-canon arc clings to void but she!! is bright! like light haha get i- 💥

see, reading sentences like this means i HAVE to at least write enough of their session to let dave both die and kill for his rose, like

also i need to write her killing and dying for him. well. killing for him. well.

killing.

perhaps just killing him. HAHAHA.

it is very fun to think about this because rose honestly just. does not talk about her relationship with dave much outside of mentioning that they're together. her narrative is so focused on the things that she wants the audience to focus on, so this was such a fun chapter to reveal the things she decided isn't important enough to ever let us in on.

like, she is so adamant that bro is the only important person in her life and the only person she loves, but she deeply cares about dave. she feels the same way, that they're connected in this way she can't pinpoint or name. and claiming him is exactly the right way to put it, because i don't think she knows how to acknowledge those emotions in herself, but she knows that she needs him with her always and wants him entrapped in a way where he can't get away from her.

i think rose is just incredibly attracted to what dave represents: safety, normalcy, the mundane, a reprieve from pain, but there are things about him that she just inherently gets. he's an outsider despite how much he attempts to fit in and i think there's something about that she relates to but also wants so badly to destroy and keep for herself.

also, this is a thing that belongs more in hcs than in kym specifically, especially because i imagine this taking place way earlier in their relationship, but bro absolutely knows about her relationship with dave. it isn't a secret. it's a thing that amuses him greatly. i actually imagine she shares a lot of details about him to bro, like allowing him this voyeuristic entertainment because dave isn't a threat to him, not really, and she shares every single one of her belongings with him.

in a perfectly pornographic world the two of them would spitroast the fuck out of him but this is a partially pornographic world that involves a meaningful plotline or whatever 🙄 smh

siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh

this part was incredibly hard to write. not because it was difficult or emotionally taxing but because i reached this unfortunate impasse i find myself at every now and then while writing a lot of darkfic where i struggle with... it's not exactly the impulse to project, necessarily, more just.... feeling forced through into inevitability of it? or maybe it's the reluctance to use personal experiences vs the knowledge that doing it can benefit your writing (but also can hamper it).

like, very hard to write about a self-destructive teenager with violent tendencies without being reminded of the time when you were a self-destructive teenager with violent tendencies.

that reluctance is born from a rant i'm definitely not gonna get into unprompted but i'll just say that it definitely complicated things HAHAHA. i've definitely gone through a 'i'm going through a psychotic break and i'm going to ramble out 7835963463 crazy things into this dm window because the person on the other side said i could' phase. i've definitely just. been insane and vomited so many words out and ngl for a second there in the final draft when i was feeling too lazy to get into Stream Of Consciousness mode i was very tempted to dig up an old vent post and copypaste those thoughts in for rose but ultimately i thought that was disingenuous and a betrayal of her character SO

a fun but unexpected surprise was rose sounding far more like herself during her drugged moments of honesty. it's especially fun because even in the future when she doesn't have access to any sort of drugs or contact with bro anymore, i don't think she'll sound this much like rose lalonde either. it's like in her desperate search to find more of her brother, she's really just found a core part of herself that she doesn't have access to in this universe

'Is there a mechanical soul within me?' there is and his name is hal hi hal

it is actually incredibly fun playing with typing quirk punctuation. it's actually a style i utilized a lot in chatroom roleplay groups yeaaaaaaaaaars after homestuck ended, very much inspired by tumblr ventblogging typing styles, crytyping and all that. the idea that someone's mental state can and should be reflected in their typing style, which is something you really only see in canon in a character like gamzee (i cant remember if other trolls drop the quirk in times of duress in canon??? i think karkat drops his as a joke about volume sometimes but that's it). i don't even know if it even really comes across as blatantly as it feels when i write it, but it's so fun to see the consistencies in a way a character types slowly but surely fall apart as they grow unstable

so the way this is designed, it's as if rose had a moment of finally being in touch with the core of herself, with what ultimately makes her rose (complete with proper punctuation), before slowly but surely lapsing back into ro-stri as she loses her punctuation piece by piece, and then ultimately devolving even more as she abandons her capitalization to type in a way that's reminiscent of dave but, more importantly, bro's typing quirk

'I think there are lives inside me/the life inside me is his' is so funny to look at in hindsight. this chapter was halfway finished before the pregnancy plot had even come into being, and this was only ever supposed to be a reference to the identity blurring she's experiencing, and this half-truth, half-delusion about being able to sense everything lil cal has injected into her and her brother. it is so STRANGE to reread it now knowing that it's become foreshadowing to her pregnancy, especially with that next sentiment following it:

'Sometimes I wish it was yours'. again, that idea of being soulmates, being connected with someone permanently. and, again, that idea of codependency, and rose being unable to express or understand love without that need to merge herself with the object of her affection. and again this was befORE the pregnancy plot was a thing so now every time i read this line i sit here hoping people dont interpret it as rose wanting dave's baby HGJFKGSGSG i swear im not into breeding i sWEAR

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭

DAVE IS SO CUTE I ALWAYS DIE REREADING THAT PART HE'S SO CUUUTE

also i struggle so SO much writing comfort scenes especially dialogue meant to comfort someone but this came out so easily. perhaps because it's a futile attempt and i didn't have to worry about the recipient of that comfort actually feeling soothed...? hmmm!

i have nothing to add to the romantic cannibalism confession besides :3c

i don't actually reread this chapter all that often anymore so finding this paragraph was lovely damn shoutout to this sentence that made me choke on my water as i was reading it cuz i was so distracted by how much i didnt remember writing this that i forgot to swallow and my drink just slid down into my lugnshjskdfg

then it is a series of letters in a language you wonder if she’s made up, that is somehow so cohesive in its chaos that you start to doubt even that.

more horrorterror references as if the literal last paragraph wasn't enough HAHA

a very fun part of designing and outlining the killswitch au is deciding who gets what plotline. for example, does rose strider get to go grimdark because she's rose? or does jade lalonde get to go grimdark because she's the lalonde with library access to the grimoire? unlike the characterization formula, there isn't an easy answer to this one. i'm mostly just going with what's more fun narratively and what makes a better and more cohesive storyline for the verse.

either way, though, ro-stri still has a connection with the horrorterrors, simply because she's a dersite and because i love a character that is so utterly doomed that every evil force on the face of the planet wants to take a turn on them. what's better than this... getting psychologically gangbanged by every demon in existence...

DID YOU KNOW I AM SO VERY FOND OF DAVE EGBERT AND HIS LOVELY PAPA WHO LOVES HIM SO MUCH

i am also so very fond of a dave egbert who cries alone in front of his computer cuz his girlfriend makes him so very sad every night like poor baby does Not Sleep and its so cute gjkgs

'its just prose' annoys the shit out of me to see because i wrote a similar line in a published piece of writing a couple of years ago so i can't reread this without being reminded of That hgjfkg

i will never write a strider rap i have the highest respect for any author who can but it'll never be me

their dynamic kills me HJKGFGKGS peak toxic romance right here god i wish i could write even more of it... i need to write more daverose so fucking bad....

a fun line because 1) i rly enjoy dave's half-forced half-genuine emotional voyeurism it's just a rly interesting aspect of his personality to write and 2) it's fun to have a moment with dave e's specific brand of humor since it's not as long-winded as a strider's would be

i rly forgot so much of this chapter HGFKGSGS oh dave... i love you... i love writing you so much...

stream-of-consciousness style writing is really fun like you get taken to so many unexpected places in the process. generally when i go SoC style i tend to have a few goals i want to land and this image, dave watching over rose in derse, was one of the big ones

ALSO THE IRONY OF DAVE CALLING HIMSELF HER PRINCE WHEN SHE IS ACTUALLY THE PRINCE OF THE SESSION HEHEHEHEHE

the lil cal staring contest is also another big one. it's just such a fun image to allude to like goddamnit i wish i could draw. it feels like an image that i can't even really describe properly what i want it to mean because it explains itself and there's not much minutia to pry free, it's just. them. rose inexplicably and perpetually being drowned in this cancerous evil at a rate that not even dave strider got to experience.

lmfao shout out to me explaining his memory power earlier forgetting that i explain it in the chapter HJSKFG

oh well NOW I GET TO ACTUALLY DISCUSS HIS CLASSPECT

so dave egbert issssss....

🥁 [drumroll] 🥁

the MAGE OF TIME!!!!

and changing classpects actually did something incredibly interesting to the story. killswitch never would have worked as a simple homestuck rewrite, because i dont think swapping the guardians is something that can ever be simple. so it didnt make sense to keep their classpects exactly the same, because they wouldn't have the same personalities or the same backgrounds to craft those personalities, or the same issues that were born of their uniquely shitty backgrounds. it also didnt feel as easy as making rose a knight of light and dave an heir of time, etc etc. like, while rose is not insecure in the classic way that knights should be (it can be argued that the 'i am my brother' facade can count towards knighthood... but her role in the story and what it will turn into once she joins the game definitely brands her a prince through and through)

through researching for killswitch i ended up coming to this conclusion about sburb and how i approach classpect and hs narratives in general:

and because of that, it was super easy to reassign everyone based on what they've been turned into through the switch in their roles.

it also made for another easy characterization formula: their aspect represents their 'nature' while their class represents their 'nurture'. so all the zeta kids still belong to the same aspect while their class changes rapidly, though how close or how far it is from their original class really depends on their character

anyway, mage of time is an incredibly fun role that actually breaks the rewrite narrative almost more than rose's classpect does. as the mage of time, dave actually steals the cryptic psychic role from jade and john harley (though, i do have thoughts on that matter, because there is still going to be a benefit for them from having access to prospit, and that plotline will still be involved in some capacity... probably).

and it's a very fun, partially accidental discovery within the au that the zeta kids are all... just a tad more prepared to enter sburb than their predecessors. rose is completely aware of the fact that she's training for something specific and dave... dave knows that the game is coming. he doesn't know the specifics, he doesn't know that it's sburb specifically that will bring them all together, but he knows there's an it, he knows the day he'll meet all his friends in person will be a day for the history books, and he knows that rose is in danger and that he'll be able to help her in a way no one else can.

some mage of time thoughts, many of which inspired and/or describe dave egbert's storyline:

source

the above was probably one of the first interpretations i read and really what solidified him as a mage, my initial thoughts to his classpect and how it interacts with rose's was the following:

and it's just so fun GOD rly hope i get to write in his perspective more in the future

haha yeah if we ever get to it yEAH if i ever get off my ass and actually finish writing this wholeass au which i nEVER WILL CUZ I DONT WANNA WRITE 500K WORDS GODDDD IM NEVER WRITING A HOMESTUCK AU AGAAAAIINNNN

#fic: kill your masters #director's commentary #meta #verse: killswitch #rose strider #dave egbert

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backtothestart02 · 6 months

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Do You Have My Number? - 1/? | westallen fanfiction

A/N: A short little fic for the end of the month. Enjoy the first chap.

...

Synopsis: AU - Barry abruptly has to buy a new apartment, and his soon-to-be ex-roommate has just the realtor to help him out.

...

Chapter 1 -

On the eve of Barry Allen’s 31st birthday, his roommate, Cisco Ramon, dropped the news on him that he and his girlfriend had decided to move in together. Before Barry could get the congratulations out of his mouth, Cisco squeezed his shoulder and offered an apology.

“You have two weeks,” he’d said to Barry’s frown, then handed him a card. “I got you an appointment for tomorrow.”

“What the-” And when he looked at the card, he read aloud, “Iris West, Realtor.”

“I know you’ll find something great.”

There was no point in arguing, which Barry tried to do at great length. Cisco had promised Cynthia that he’d have no problem kicking his then roommate out, even told her it was long overdue and that Barry had more than enough income to afford buying instead of renting with his fancy CSI Director job down at CCPD.

To Barry, he told him he loved living with him for the last five years, but that he was ready to settle down with Cynthia and start a family. They couldn’t do that with him still living under the same roof.

“So, why not get your own apartment for the two of you, and leave me here in peace?” Barry asked, bitterly.

“Cindy likes this place,” Cisco had defended. “And frankly, so do I. You’re settling here. Admit it. You want something with big windows and high ceilings, with more than a couple bedrooms and an open patio and terrace. I’ve heard you talk.”

“Those things cost money, Cisco.”

“Money you now have with your new job,” he pointed out, and that was when Barry knew he’d have to back down.

So, the next day, he went down to the realtor’s office and let himself in. The receptionist was friendly enough, directing him to wait in one of the comfy waiting room chairs and flip through a magazine while he waited for his realtor, Iris West, to finish up with her previous client.

He hadn’t asked, but early that morning when he was getting ready to go, he found out that Cisco hadn’t just picked this realtor at random. He’d gone to college with her, even roomed with her, and said she was the best in the business and very passionate about her work. Not to mention gorgeous.

The question of whether they’d ever dated or hooked up was brimming at the front of his mind, and Cisco knew him so well he had to have known, because he answered it as he was walking out the door.

“No, we never went there. She had some blonde frat boy on her arm the whole time we roomed together. They were on their way to the altar too when she backed out at the last minute. Poor guy. Guess she didn’t really love him after all.”

So, she’s single, was the immediate thought in Barry Allen’s brain. But he knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up. She was beautiful and successful. She had to have some arm candy taking her out to dinner at night at the very least.

He made a mental note to look for a ring on her ring finger, but then shook it off. He had an appointment to buy an apartment, not to snag a date.

Even if he was single and had been for far too long.

He missed giving a pretty girl heart eyes, missed going out on dates, missed writing love notes and feeling butterflies flap wildly inside him whenever he saw or thought of the object of his affection.

He missed sex.

A good solo hand job was all fine and dandy when it was necessary, but to have that be the only source of sexual fulfillment when you were a healthy, somewhat attractive man of now 31 was pathetic.

Not that he’d admit that to anyone out loud.

“I’m so, so sorry about the delay. Barry, is it?”

And he looked up from his magazine and promptly dropped it into his lap where it then slid on the floor. He hoped his jaw wasn’t actually on the floor too, but he suspected it was from the way she was looking at him.

“Or…Mr. Allen?”

He managed to stifle the beginning of a moan from hearing her call him by his surname and snatched up the magazine before placing it on the table and shaking her hand as he got up.

“Barry. Barry’s fine.”

Iris spun around to look at the receptionist.

“Thank you for keeping him for me, Patricia.”

The woman must’ve smiled or nodded or said ‘of course’, but Barry was oblivious to all or any of it. The petite Iris West with her pencil skirt, pinned up dark hair, and fitted red blazer was the epitome of his fantasies.

He hoped he didn’t make an ass out of himself during this appointment or he’d never buy a decent apartment the rest of his life.

“This way.”

Thankful for the absence of people down the hallway, he let himself admire her derriere in that tight skirt that stretched across both ass cheeks.

“Do you know what you’re looking for?”

His cheeks immediately burned.

“Huh?”

She turned around, and he took a fraction of a step back so he was in the shadows in the hall and not right under the light.

“In an apartment?”

She side-stepped and directed him into the bright room that they were to sit in, presumably her office. He scurried inside.

“Well, I like your office,” he complimented, and she practically blossomed, some of her professionalism shattering in that instant.

“The windows? I love them too. They’re my favorite part about the whole building,” she gushed.

He turned to look at her as she sat behind her desk, liking her more and more.

“Please, have a seat.”

He sat down in the opposite chair and leaned back in it, so he could fully appreciate her in her element. Iris pulled out a notepad and jotted something down before looking up at him again and smiling brilliantly.

“So, you like large windows and open space. High ceilings too, I’m guessing.”

“Damn,” he muttered, impressed. “Am I that obvious?”

It was her turn to blush.

“Well, you did say you liked my office, and…” She looked up, and he followed suit, taking note of the high ceiling.

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Well, my roommate says-”

“Roommate?” She frowned. “Cisco told me you planned on living without him.”

“I did. I do! It’s just all quite sudden. I’ve thought of me and him as two parts of one whole for the last five years, and then as of last night, we’re not, I guess. It’ll take some time to adjust.”

“Of course.” She paused, thinking and tapping her pen on the notepad. “Well, why don’t you tell me what part of the city you like best, what you hate about your current apartment, what would make that apartment perfect for you, and of course…your budget.”

So, he did. He complained – easily – about the parts of his apartment that royally sucked: the squeaky shower faucet for one and difficult landlord for two. He talked about always wanting an upstairs terrace outside either the living room or his bedroom, a fireplace maybe, and a quiet neighborhood but not too far from downtown either. He liked the business of the city, just didn’t want it keeping him from getting sleep at night.

And his budget was pretty flexible. He was no millionaire, but with his latest promotion that he’d secured a year ago and done significant saving financially, he figured he had some wiggle room with whatever she came up with.

After he’d finished, Iris set down her pen and opened a drawer on the left side of her desk. From there she pulled out a stack of papers, properties it turned out, and held them out to him.

“Here are some apartments that I think might be worth your while.”

He gawked.

“But I just gave you specifics now. How did you…?”

She shrugged, taking pride in her work.

“Cisco told me some of those things a couple days ago. I just wanted you to feel free to express yourself further. But you are right. Since I didn’t know everything, not all of these places fit all that you described. Still, I’d like to head out to maybe one or two and see if you like something about them. Then, the next time that we meet I’ll know where else I can look that can suit your preferences better.”

“The next time?” he asked, curiously.

“Finding the perfect place to live solo is no easy task, Barry. It’s a process, and it takes time.”

“But I have to be out of where I’m at now in two weeks!”

She reached out across her desk to calm him.

“And we will find it in time for you to get all your things out of Cisco and Cynthia’s business. I promise.”

“You know about Cynthia?”

“Cisco and I keep in touch. We were very close in college. I’m sure he’s told you.”

“Right. Of course.”

“Friends like that don’t just disintegrate.”

He thought about his college friends that he’d been close with. Felicity, Kara, Ray… He didn’t talk to them much anymore. His whole life had become his parents and Cisco after graduation. Maybe he should call one of them up someday, since he was making some big life changes now.

“In most cases, I should say,” Iris concluded from the pensive look on his face.

“Mm.”

“So!”

He looked up.

“You ready for the first stop?”

“Oh. Now?”

“Of course. Got to strike while the iron is hot.” She winked. “Just follow me in my car. It’s the little red bug parked near the entrance. The first place is only five minutes from here and the second only 10 minutes in the other direction. After I get your feedback on both, I’ll make some notes, and we can discuss them further when we get back or just decide on other places in a couple days when we next meet.”

“Sounds great.”

He stood up, and so did she. He admired the slight curve of her cleavage as she bent down to smooth out any wrinkles in her skirt, but was sure to be looking at her face when she looked back up at him.

He gestured to the door, and she smiled and led the way out.

“So, you like red, huh?”

#westallen #westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #do you have my number?#chapter 1

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myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants · 3 years

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A/N: I would like to preface this by letting everyone know that I am in no way knowledgeable about actual science things. That being said I am amazed that in a random draw I actually managed to get a prompt that had to do with flowers lol. This is my contribution to the BakuHarem Collab! Please take a second to check out the other contributions here!

Warning: bad science, no protection, swearing, overs!mulation, accidental exhibti0som, intoxicated smut? idk sex pollen is a drug i guess.....

W/C: 3.5k

“Bakugou, dude. We should not-”

“Shut up Kirishima!” Bakugou walks through the sterile hallways checking every corner for signs of other people. “That bitch took my top spot with some bullshit flowers?!” He finally gets to the lab that was granted to you for your research. After winning first place, stealing first place in the UA university science expo. He walks into the observing lobby, looking through the large window to make sure you weren’t working in the lab after hours.

“Just keep quiet and listen for any one coming this way.” He walks over to the security door and holds his key card up to it, the light on the scanner turns green and he hears the dead bolt slide open.

Kirishima is lingering behind him, hovering in the doorway. He turns to Bakugou to talk him out of this again but his friend has already entered the lab. “Ahh geez.” He didn’t even wear any safety gear.

As the door clicks shut behind him, Bakugou stops to examine the lab. Several different species of flowers in full bloom behind temperature controlled enclosures. Some of them are recognizable; lavender, chamomile, and jasmine. “I thought it would smell like the perfume department, this fuckin place smells like heaven.” Guess it wasn’t a new shampoo she was using then.

He walks through the aisles turning his head this way and that, trying to find something, anything that he can fuck up without it being overtly obvious. He gets to the back corner of the lab and sees a piece of familiar equipment. “Perfect.”

*****

“He said WHAT?!”

Your roommate flinches at your reaction to her news. “He told Professor Aizawa that your ‘Viagra flowers’ are a joke to the science department and they should ‘wither and die’.”

You’re fuming. That fuck tard Bakugou, mister my shit don’t stink is ridiculing my research? “All that man knows is how to blow shit up! Just cause I beat him in the expo this year, he thinks my research is a joke?!” You stand up from the couch, pacing in front of it and you can’t decide whether to scream or cry. “Why did I ever like that twat?”

Cause he has wide shoulders, big hands and scarlet eyes that -

“Oh for the love of god shut up.” Screw your inner thoughts.

Ochako watches you pace, worrying in her eyes when yours line with silver and your neck flushes bright red. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that.”

You stop moving and look at her, guilt flooding through you as she slumps forward. “Don’t apologize, I was talkin to myself babe.” She nods her head weakly and you stand up straight “I’m gonna go.” You walk to the door grabbing your coat and key card.

“W-where are you going?” Ochako follows you to the door and grabs your wrist gently. You turn to her and smile, she was always so sweet but you knew that if shit went down she would be right beside you, kicking ass.

“I need to blow off some steam, so I’m gonna go check on my ‘Viagra flowers’.” She huffs a laugh and let's go.

“Alright, don’t stay too late.”

You nod, put on your shoes and leave the dorm. It’s a bit of a walk to the building the lab is in and hopefully the cool breeze will calm your mind.

*****

As you walk into the building you are grateful that your professor is more of a night owl than most students. Considering how many naps he takes during lectures it is no wonder he can’t sleep at night. You contemplate going to his office to say hi but think better of it.

Don’t wanna end up venting about Bakugou to my professor of all people.

You walk down the hallway and notice the door to your lab is cracked. Not unusual, a lot of students from your class have been coming and going to see the different species of flowers and plants you are growing. Assuming someone didn’t shut the door behind them you take your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Out of the corner of your vision a quick flash of red and you walk right into Kirishima, Bakugou’s friend and one of your classmates.

“Hey! How- how's it goin?”

You take a step back, rubbing your nose from face planting into his giant chest. Does this guy eat boulders for breakfast? “Hey Kiri! Just gonna do some late night tests! You checkin out my garden?”

“Yeah! Flowers are pretty.” He laughs, it’s high pitched and obviously forced.

You take in his nervous appearance, the fact that he is still standing in front of the door and your mood sours.

“Where is he?”

Kirishima looks like he is gonna try and stall but one look at the fury in your eyes and his head hangs down. “He’s in the lab,” you rush past him and punch in the code to open the door. “I tried to talk him out of it!”

The door clicks shut and the spiky blonde huffs in annoyance somewhere in the back of the lab.

“I told you shitty hair, if you’re gonna keep a look out you have to stand outside.”

You clear your throat and his head shoots up. You walk over to him, taking note of all of the plants and equipment, taking note of anything that looks different. As you get closer to him you notice that he smells particularly good tonight.

Keep it in your pants idiot

“Really Bakugou?” You stop a few steps away from him, noticing the various disassembled parts on the counter top behind him. “What were you gonna do, break my extraction equipment and make it look like a malfunction? Are you a B-Movie villain?”

He stands up and you are reminded of how small you feel next to him, wide shoulders, arms barely fitting the t-shirt he was wearing, strong chest that tapers to a toned waist. He laughs and you look at his face. What I wouldn’t give to just lick from your navel to your neck.

“A B-Movie villain huh? That’s rich coming from the fanfiction cliché scientist.” He crosses his arms, your eyes quickly dart to the sight of his biceps flexing with the movement then back at him.

“Fanfiction cliché? What the actual fuck are you talking about?” You take another step towards him, softly inhaling his scent. Why does he smell so good?

He laughs at you again, the sound caresses your skin and you realize your feeling very, very hot. You drag your fingers through your hair, your eyes zeroing in on a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. When you lick your lips and shift to take another step closer a small part of your brain connects the dots. “What. Did. You. Do?”

Bakugou looks at you, noticing your flushed cheeks and eyes that show you aren’t quite your normal smart and sexy self. Reaching behind himself you hear the unmistakable sound of clinking glass, he grabs a beaker, an open beaker. “Just grabbed this from your equipment, I know how long it takes to extract this stuff. Would suck if it were to suddenly go missing.”

“You idiot! Do you know how potent it is in that form?!” You reach for it but he pulls the beaker out of your reach. “Why do you think I keep it enclosed? You have to close it up now!”

“Why should I?”

Honestly how stupid can this guy get?!

“Put it back in the enclosure first and I’ll explain it to you!” Your breathing is getting heavy, the closer you get to Bakugou the hotter your body feels. You lunge for him again and trip, he hurries to put the beaker on the table behind him and catch you. Put off balance from the position you both crash to the floor with him underneath you. Sighing in frustration you lift yourself up only to bump your head on the table, knocking over the beaker and spilling the extract over you both.

“Shit!” You scramble off of him and run to the door, pressing the exposure button and effectively locking it. You turn to Bakugou and back up trying your best to keep your distance. “Stay on that side of the room, if we’re far enough apart the effects won’t be as bad.”

“What are the effects?” The question is spoken so calmly that you almost convince yourself he didn’t speak at all.

“What are the fucking side effects!?” His shirt is soaked, sticking to his tanned skin. The outline of his chiseled body makes your mouth go dry. You look back at his face, his mouth twisted in frustration at your silence but no less attractive. The sharp angle of his jawline, pink lips slightly chapped, aristocratic nose, scarlet eyes that-

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Shaking your head to clear some of the fog in your brain, you focus on him again.

“It’s an aphrodisiac so obviously it enhances sexual desire.”

“Yeah-yeah, sex pollen I get it. But what else?” he rings out the bottom of his shirt, lifting it slightly and you avert your eyes.

“It is not sex pollen, I don’t even use the pollen of the plant.” the last part coming out in a mumble. “The aphrodisiac only works on people who are consenting adults that are attracted to each other.” You clear your throat.

Bakugou freezes for a moment and looks up at you, examining you. The flushed skin, short breaths, and how you keep as much distance between the two of you as the small lab provides.

“So why are you so far away then?” The smirk on his face is sinful as all hell.

Cheeky bastard.

“Surely I don’t have to spell it out for you.” Resisting the urge to turn your face away from him like a pouty child..

“HA!” The smug look on his face momentarily lifts the cloud of lust and replaces it with anger. “Of course you’re attracted to me, who wouldn’t be?”

“Well, aren't you a cocky bastard?” Hoping you're not about to embarrass yourself you take a chance and muster up some courage. Slowly walking up to him you notice that his forehead is glistening with sweat, his breathing heavy, ears and back of his neck flushed with pink. “Tell me, Katsuki. How are you feeling?”

A few steps and you can see his hands balled up in white knuckled fists, a few more his jaw clench and unclench. Once you are only an arms length away you can see him swallow harshly, Adam's apple bobbing, nostrils flaring. You push your breasts against his toned chest, the light friction causing a moan to escape your mouth, the sound going straight to his cock.

“I’m - I’m fine.” Bakugou clears his throat, the sound of his first name from your lips sweeter than it should be.

“Lookin a little flushed, you feeling hot?”

He doesn’t answer, his attention captured by the closeness of your body, your lips, the tops of your breasts peeking out of the v neck top you’re wearing.. He stops breathing when your tongue flicks out to lick your bottom lip.

“Cat got your tongue?”

On impulse his hands move to rest on your hips, eyes never leaving your lips. “What was the question again?”

“How. Are. You. Feeling.” you walk your fingers up his chest with each word before pulling his head down so you can whisper in his ear, the anger fading fast. “Katsuki.” You hear him growl, the sound reverberating through your core, then you're being picked up.

“I’m gonna ruin you.” Bakugou crashes his lips to yours, pressing you up against one of the walls and bracing you with one hand so that the other can wrap around your throat. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He bites your lip, licking it to soothe the hurt. “Smart, funny, sexy, beautiful.”

You whine at the words and grind against the bulge in his pants, your pussy throbbing with need. “Need to feel you touch me Bakugou.” He stops moving and you shift to try and grind against him again but he holds you tight, slightly squeezing the sides of your neck.

“What happened to calling me by my first name, baby girl?” Loosening his hand and crouching down as if to put you down you sputter out “Kat-Katsuki Please touch me.”

The feral grin on his face has your pussy drooling and you all but sigh in relief when he stands up straight and slips a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts. “Oh god yes.”

“You’re so soft baby,” he pulls one of the cups down and rolls your nipple in between his fingers. “Take off your shirt, wanna see those pretty tits.”

Katsuki keeps playing with your nipple when you rip your shirt off, making short work of your bra and tossing it. As soon as the other nipple is in view he dives down to suckle it, his mouth hot. You throw your head back, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pushing your chest out to give him better access.

He is merciless in his teasing, alternating between breasts, making sure to suck each nipple till they are both hard peaks. Kissing the top of your soft globes, your collarbone and neck, everywhere his mouth goes is left with a mark in varying shades of red and purple.

You grow impatient with him, needing to make him feel as good wanting to feel him with your hands, mouth, teeth.

“Wanna feel you too Katsuki.” you whine as he pinches one nipple while nibbling the other one. When you pull on his hair a little he groans but lifts his head, pulling both nipples with him before letting them go.

“What do ya wanna feel, baby girl?”

With all your inhibitions throw out the window you lean down and whisper in his ear. “Wanna feel you fuck me.”

You pull away and he quickly sets you down, you’re about to object when he takes his shirt off in one smooth motion then starts unbuttoning his jeans. You rush to follow, unzipping your pants and pulling them down, before you can pull down your panties he grabs your hand stopping you. “Leave ‘m on.”

Katsuki picks you up again before you can get a good look at his cock, but when it's pressed against you there is no need to see it. “Fuck you’re huge.”

He smirks at you, smug pride in his eyes. “Glad you approve.” Reaching a hand down he pulls your panties to the side and runs his fingers through your wet folds. “This all for me?” bringing his fingers up to show you the slick dripping down them he puts them in his mouth and sucks. “Gonna have to enjoy that tasty treat later.”

Your body is burning up, breathing is heavy as you both watch him drag his cock along your wet slit before pushing in. Your moans echo in the lab and neither one of you cares as Katsuki's cock drags against your inner walls until bottoming out. Right now is not the time for slow strokes, not with the aphrodisiac flowing through both of your bodies, so he starts a pace that has your ass slapping against his thighs.

“C-cumming!” You scream out before your body bows in on itself and you're creaming around his cock.

“Already?” a sideways grin on his face Katsuki starts moving you up and down in time with his thrusts, his cock reaching that much deeper. “Gonna cum for me again? Come on baby, wanna feel you milk my cock.”

Your mind is going blank, the only thing running through it is Katsuki. “Please don’t stop,” you dig your nails into his shoulders. “M Gonna cum again.” His thrusts go shallow and the head of his cock drags against your walls, hitting all the right spots.

You’re repeating his name endlessly, the only word that is in your mind then you’re cumming again. Your legs tense around his waist and your pussy clenches down hard enough that he has to stop moving or risk hurting you. He watches your face contorted in pleasure and starts thrusting as soon as he feels your orgasm subside.

“One more.”

Your head fuzzy, body limp from two orgasms. “I can’t!”

“Wrong,” Katsuki pulls out for a second, setting you on the floor and pushing on your back. You obediently bend forward grabbing the edge of the counter top and he wastes no time in rutting back into you. “You want me to stop?”

“NO”

“Then you got one more beautiful thing.” He sticks two fingers in his mouth, getting them wet then reaches around rubbing soft circles on your puffy clit. His other hand gripping your hip, before moving up and grabbing your shoulder using it as leverage to fuck into you harder.

“Come on, cum for me.”

You turn your head to the side trying your best to look in his eyes, yours tearing up at the overstimulation. “You cum too, fill me up Katsuki.”

“Oh fuck yeah.” Bending his knees he thrusts up into you and with the new angle, teasing circles being rubbed on your clit and the feral moans coming out of his mouth you cum one last time.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck

Katsuki cums after you, rope after rope of cum coating your fluttering walls.

You both stand there catching your breath. Katsuki pulls out and you whimper, “Oh don’t worry beautiful,” he picks you up again, walks over to a chair and sits down with you in his lap “not done with you yet.”

By the time you are spent both of you are exhausted and lost track of how many times either of you came. He helps you stand up, quickly pulling your panties back in place. “Don’t want you leakin.”

You giggle and pick up your clothes from the floor, he helps you get dressed and you both walk to the door. Making sure to check the air quality before leaving the lab you confirm that nothing is left in the air and unlock it. Before opening the door you turn to him opening your mouth to ask a question but he talks first.

“Let's go back to my room, yeah? I’ll help you clean up.” His voice rough from moaning and growling but you can see a small smile on his lips. Even though you know that the effects of the extract have worn off you can’t help but worry that he is still under their influence. Nodding your head you turn away from him again and open the door, walking into the lobby.

“I assume you're finished with the lab?”

You stop dead in your tracks, Katsuki bumping into you. “P-professor Aizawa?” Red hair peeks out behind him and Kirishima looks at you both with a nervous sharp toothed smile and red face. The fog of your memory clears and you vaguely remember hearing knocking on the window and door while you were… indisposed.

Katsuki steps in front of you, from the lack of red on his face or neck you know he isn’t nearly as mortified as you. “How long have you been standing there?”

The tired eyes of your teacher examine both of you. “Long enough.” He sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are both to meet me in my office tomorrow morning.”

And just before you can’t get anymore embarrassed he walks out and says over his shoulder. “The labs aren’t sound proof, and these walls echo.”

@doinmybesthere @patchworkpuzzle @eyebagsbutglam @sugarspiceanddynamight

#bnharem collab #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bnha katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #bakugo x y/n #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader #bakugo mha #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x you #lilliths masterlist #lillith writes

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dankdefrank · 2 years

Text

Sasharcy Week 2021, Day 5 and 6: Scars and Memories.

Marcy remembers that a lot of scientist sources had different opinions about the amount of time that the brain needs to adjust to the changes. Mostly, it depends on the person, type of change and many other factors. It usually takes twenty-one days to get used to losing a limb. After eighteen months, you eventually accept life changes, such as switching jobs or moving out. While grieving, you might need from six months to four years.

Whatever adjusting meant. Is this a feeling that you know and you are not scared of this anymore? You aren’t in denial, saying “you’re not here”, but you nod your head as you see that change. Big or little one, in the mirror or in your life.

As Marcy thinks what if she would never find the music box, she comes to the conclusion that she would need forever to adapt to being alone again. To lose a part of herself, even if they still would be there. Not in her life, though.

On the other hand, she also thinks that she still hasn't gotten used to new Sasha. She’s still her Sasha, and Marcy knows that, but it’s still new, like in the day she discovered that. It was very strange, but not unwelcomed in her life after all. When she notices something different about Sasha – a new scar on her body or a new change about her behavior – she just accepts it. It’s like watching her grow, which makes her… calm. In her case though, a big scar still is on her chest, being a reminder that she’s the one who actually went wrong.

Her head is full of those thoughts, but, for some reason, she never said any of this. She wasn't afraid that she will make a fool of herself or she will look stupid, but time was passing by and wounds were healing, yet scars were staying with them, forever. Maybe she couldn't find a good moment – after her rescue, Anne in the human world and this whole prophecy thing, they were too busy to talk about… things. Of course, they were feeling okay around each other, they were feeling safe, maybe even loved, but unsaid words were hanging up over their heads.

So, when they eventually find time to relax, it feels weird – like they should work on and on, hoping that will wash their faults even if it won’t. It feels good too, as both of them are on the twin sized mattress in the Plantars’ basement, where Anne used to sleep. Marcy is playing with Sasha’s short, messy hair, when Sasha is just laying in front of her, with eyes closed. She’s not sleeping. Neither of them is and Marcy actually wonders if they ever will be.

Her hand is lost in Sasha’s hair, while she’s looking at her face. It has changed. Pretty obvious thing, but she notices it again. Her skin now is dry, although it used to be smooth and without pimples. After so long time spent in the sun, her freckles are more visible on her crooked nose. Her lips have chapped, hair has become kind of oily, and in the end – her face adorn two scars. One on the right cheek, second across her left eye, next to her mole. It was a miracle that her sight wasn’t damaged.

But somehow, Marcy still finds her beautiful.

Back home, Sasha’s was different, yet there’s something about her scars. Bruises on her body were and are temporary. Always, the same, careless “I’ll just cover this”, said with a bold grin.

Marcy thinks that Sasha must feel unsure about scars, as finally, her body was telling the story, which she tried to hide. Maybe that's why she had never been worried about bruises, which were gone as they were showing up, like they were never here.

Her hand slowly goes down, but stops right in front of Sasha’s cheek.

“May I touch this?”, she asks and Sasha opens her eyes.

“Why?” Her voice is quiet and hoarse, betraying her tiredness. An old boldness is missing, replaced by something what Marcy even might call… warmth? It’s weird, but it feels good, because she missed this so much. Even if the things are not perfect between them, they’re enough. So Marcy doesn’t seek the right answer, as she understands she doesn’t need to.

She shrugs her shoulders.

“Just because.”

Sasha’s eyes meet her eyes and Marcy cannot stop looking at the scar on the left side of her face. It’s like one of the words written on her body.

“If you want so.” She finally says slowly and Marcy touches it. A pale, raised, normal fine-line – to the touch it’s softer than her skin. Scars of this kind are made by cutting. Marcy knows that probably one of Sasha’s fights was the cause, but she still hasn't learned what exactly was.

“You know”, she says, still touching her scar. “You’ve never actually told me how this happened.”

Sasha raises her eyebrow.

“Anne didn’t tell you?”

Oh.

Marcy withdraws her hand a little.

“It was during your fight at the Toad Tower?” She asks quietly and Sasha nods.

“We argued. Like… badly.” Marcy knows that, but she lets Sasha talk. She can hear this again. “Anyway, it ended with the swords. When I’m thinking about this, and I think about this every single day, I guess that back then she had realized I was an asshole.” She laughs bitterly. “I almost won. She was laying on the ground and I had the sword by her neck. I’ve felt… like she was wrong. Like I needed to show her that she needs me, I need to control all of this, for her own good, because I know better. At home she never said no. So, when she finally did, when she cut my cheek, I was mad and shocked that she even dared to do that. She set the boundaries so much that if the tower hadn’t started to collapse and she hadn’t caught me, I would’ve left thinking that she hates me. I’m sure she hates me now, she really has a reason, but… Then I had evidence she was just mad. Now I have nothing. I’m not her friend. She deserves someone better, you know?”

Marcy didn’t expect Sasha to open with her memories so much, but what surprises her is that she thinks similarly about her relationship with Anne. She wasn’t controlling like Sasha, but she had a problem with honesty for sure. Always “I’m fine”, when she was not, always “I’ve just played games the whole night”, when she was crying ‘til dawn, always lying and hiding the truth. And where has it led eventually? She just wanted to stay with her friends forever but now one of them is gone. Maybe for good.

“She’s really awesome.” Marcy finally says, as nothing else comes to her mind. She smiles bitterly. “I wish she was there.”

“Me too. It’s weird that I miss her even if I know she hates me? Wow, I’m really fucked up.” Sasha laughs, but there is no happiness in that. Only regret for lost chances.

“You are not.” Marcy reaches out her second hand, which is touching a part of Sasha’s scar under the eye. “And I don’t think she hates you. I mean… You probably have a lot of things to work on, but she doesn’t hate you.”

Some part of her is screaming right now “because she hates me”, but she doesn’t want to say it out loud, especially when she’s focused on Sasha now. She’s aware that she shouldn’t keep things bottled up, she needs to be honest instead. It’s not that easy, as lies to her were like quantum entanglement. Always together, so getting rid of them is difficult. She wonders if she really made this first step, as she’s making three steps backwards. Never moving on, always running, always falling, always lying–

“She doesn’t hate you either.” Sasha’s voice saves her before she falls into guilt’s trap. Marcy feels Sasha’s hand laying on her face. “You know that, right, silly?”

Marcy looks at her and lets herself smile a bit. She doesn’t completely believe in that. She would need to talk with Anne first to be sure, and do something about her own problems, chasing her since she could remember. It all is complicated and although Marcy could understand a lot, this is not something easy to understand. So, even if she’s not believing Sasha fully, it’s good enough, because they were in it together. Two messed up kids, trying to learn how to forgive themselves by finding warmth in something else than their mutual friend, who was gone.

“Let’s say that”, she murmurs. She hesitates for a while, but she finally hugs her cheek to Sasha’s hand. She would’ve enjoyed that, if she wouldn’t see Sasha’s scars on her hand, which makes her to get away from it. “You have a lot of scars on it too.”

Sasha snaps out.

“Oh, that. Yeah.” She looks at it. “You easily can cut yourself during trainings with the sword. And fighting, generally. But I don’t care about… all of this.” She points a scar on her eye. “Okay, maybe almost all. I really hate this Anne’s one. I wish it could disappear.”

Marcy slightly nods her head. She really wants to say something that could cheer her up. To her mind only comes a thought that her scar will never fade away, as they appear as part of the body’s natural healing processes. During injury the dermis is damaged – the deep, thick layer of skin – in effect producing a scar, by producing more collagen fibers in the flawed area. Thanks to it, the wound is repaired, but new scar tissue has a different texture and appearance than the surrounding skin.

In conclusion, it won’t disappear. It will stay, like the scar on her chest, being the reminder of how they went wrong.

“I think the scar is not the problem here.” Marcy’s words surprise even herself. She’s talking, as the sentences are running to her head like the water in the river of her thoughts. Panta rhei. Everything flows. River will never stay the same, so do you. Changing is the only rule of the universe, which can be called constant. “I think the reason why you hate it so much is that you still see it as consequences of your actions, believing that the guilt will never fade away, which brings memories you would rather forget.”

For a moment between them there is quiet. Sasha looks at Marcy kind of stunned, studying what she just said. It seems she’s trying to find the right words, but as she’s more focused, she finally lets it go and gives up.

“Wow, Marbles, that was really smart.” Sasha laughs. “I don't even know what to say.”

“You don’t need to.” Marcy whispers. “But I wouldn’t call this my thoughts.” Her voice goes quieter and quieter, as she’s going to tell some secret and she’s supposed to do that in this way or they could shatter. “I just think that’s something what Anne could say, modified with my thinking.”

“You’re right, she probably wouldn’t use those intelligent words. No offense to her, of course, she’s just more like…”

“Like a heart.”

“Yeah. Like a heart. Keeping all this together.”

They could be strong. They could be smart. Protecting, analyzing, always knowing. But without heart, who can protect and forgive because of love, despite all flaws, they were lost, not sure if they made the right decision. She still was one of the parts of their souls. Progresses and mistakes made, but without heart it was hard to remember, that if everything flows – then the guilt does too.

So she speaks up.

“What I mean… is that your scar won’t disappear. Your actions won’t either, but, here we are. Maybe it’s a reminder that you’ve made a mistake, but also it’s a reminder that you’ve changed. I don’t know if she will forgive you, if she will forgive me, and if she will, then the question is when. Yet I know that you are trying as much as you can, you carry this, you carry memories of your scars, and that’s why I still want to be by your side.” She sees everything in Sasha’s eyes, where the tears are showing up and Marcy hears her sniffling. “O-oh, I-I’m sorry, Sasha, I didn’t want to make you cry, I–”

“S-shut up, silly.” Sasha just says, before hugging her so much, that every single insecurity goes away.

There still were so many memories to accept. There still was so much to learn, discover and forgive, but at this moment it was enough. Time will pass and they will change – for better.

So Marcy smiles and lets herself drown in her hug, thinking maybe that’s how it looks to be loved.

#amphibia #sasha waybright #marcy amphibia #marcy wu #sasharcy week #sasharcy #my ff #anne boonchuy #sashannarcy #tw swearing #fanfic #fanfiction

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tetsurobunni · 3 years

Text

Kita Shinsuke : Matchmaker

☽ suna x reader ; 2.6k words

☞ characters mentioned : kita shinsuke, aran ojiro, atsumu miya, osamu miya

☽ fluff, he takes care of you when ur sick ! even tho he’s a menace, kita being an angel

☽ a slight mention of adult themes (its a teasing joke)

☽ notes : hiii i wrote this for a friend and i figured id add it here teehee :))

hey Jesus, i know we don’t talk much but...fuck you. i feel like literal dog shit

You groaned as you shoved yet another tissue in your nose. You were sick, and God forbid it wasn’t the worst cold you’d ever had.

This morning you had pulled on your uniform in a haze; honestly it's a miracle you even made it to school. Aran had stopped you in the hallway when you arrived, putting a hand on your shoulder and placing the back of his palm against your forehead.

He immediately got out his phone and texted someone-presumably Kita, since he was the one most qualified to handle this. The captain had dealt with him and Atsumu both when they were sick so he could surely help you and get you to go the hell home.

You had pushed weakly at Kita when he ushered you towards the entrance of the building, assuring that you were a-o-kay. You ended up making friends with a nearby trashcan and emptying your guts right after the claim. Kita had held your hair back and rubbed your shoulders reassuringly. Afterwards, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick message to someone. Who? You didn’t know.

Kita had made sure to get you home in one piece. He tucked you into bed, placed a cold rag onto your head, and you think you heard him say something about bringing you soup later. Sleep crept up on you quickly and you were out before he even stepped out the door.

Now you were unfortunately awake, cursing whatever God could hear. This was absolutely awful. A dull throb ran through your skull insistently, mucus clotted your nose and throat, making your breaths uneven and raspy. You wanted to quench the ache in your throat but even the idea of sitting up seemed to drain too much energy, so you laid there in pain.

You assumed it was mid-afternoon. Kita had drawn the curtains above the window closed, leaving the room dark. You were especially grateful for this, for you knew any light would make your eyes hurt.

Your phone lay unchecked on the table face-down. The fear of worsening your headache is what caused it to stay there. Whoever wanted to talk would have to wait. You switched out the tissue in your nose for a fresh one, groaning again.

You wanted to take a shower so bad. You hated getting sick because you felt disgusting and knew you looked it too. Embarrassment bloomed when the events from this morning played in your mind.

Aran’s gonna joke about that for weeks.

A soft knock from the door drew you away from your thoughts. That’s probably Kita. A hoarse “come in” fell from your chapped lips and you internally cringed at how awful you sounded, even if it was just your childhood friend.

“You look like shit.”

That was not Kita.

“Suna? what the fuck?”

“Shut Up. You’re going to hurt your throat worse.”

Is this what I get for saying fuck you? I apologize so much anything but this please

“You’ve gone through two boxes of tissues already? Kita wasn’t lying, damn.”

You turned your head away from Suna’s voice, attempting to cover your sick-stricken face. Out of all people. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Suna- the two of you actually got along (if you count bickering back and forth all the time getting along). The problem was you happened to have a humongous crush on him.

The wing spiker had gotten on your nerves at first- smirks hidden behind a hand, foot sticking out to trip you in the hallway, drawing on your notes- he was almost unbearable. But as the both of you got older, you started returning his remarks, nudging him lightly into lockers, laughing at the twins together and sharing footage of their stupid fights.

Your crush had crept up on you almost unknowingly until one day he slung an arm over your shoulder and shot you one of his signature smirks and you were gone. It was infuriating, to say the least.

“Earth to y/n, hello y/n.”

“What.”

“Ah-ah, no speaking, remember?” You shot him a glare, receiving that smirk yet again. You cursed at the butterflies swarming your stomach.

Infuriating.

“You’re shivering.”

It was a simple comment. You realized after a beat that he was right and pulled the blanket farther up your body. He sat down the bag he held in his hand and made his way over to your bed. You squirmed in protest, trying to scooch away from his outstretched hand. Your actions caused Suna’s brows to furrow, a small line creasing on his forehead.

“I’m just going to check if you still have a fever,” he whispered, moving forward despite your futile attempts at moving away. You gave in, allowing him to gently place his hand on your forehead.

He wasn’t terribly close, he had been closer to you before this, but this felt different. More intimate.

“You’re burning up,” he said, leaning back with a sigh. “Sit tight, I’ll start a bath for you.”

You tried to keep your swarming thoughts at bay with no luck. Your crush, Suna Rintaro, is drawing a bath for you. A bath. He’s taking care of you.

Why is he being so nice? This has to be a set up, or Kita probably forced him. There’s no other way he would willingly be doing this...is there? You shut down the thought as quickly as it came. No sense in getting flustered over nothing. No need to fuel your growing crush.

You weren’t fit to complain anyways. The exact thing you wanted is being done right now, so you did as you were told, slightly sitting up to fetch yet another tissue. The pounding in your head still hadn’t ceased and a sudden cough racked your body. You wanted to cry- and you didn’t cry often. But you felt horrible.

“Hey, you okay?”

Apparently you hadn’t held up your facade well enough because a look of concern washed over Suna’s face the instant he stepped back into the room. You shook your head lightly in response to his question, feeling tears welling up behind your eyelids in spite of your attempts to keep them at bay.

The last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of Suna. It was practically a death wish. You could imagine the jokes and poking laughter he would send your way over the next few weeks, and it made you feel even worse.

“Hey, hey now, look at me.”

The words were whispered closer to you than you anticipated. Suna had sat down on the edge of your bed while you were caught up in your thoughts, that same line present between his brows. You fought the urge to touch it, facing away from him again and reaching up to wipe your eyes.

“I’m fine.” That instigated a scoff.

“No you’re not. Now c’mon, let’s get you into the bath. You’ll feel better.”

Right. A bath. Despite the fact that Suna’s presence was wearing you thin, a bath sounded great. The only problem was, you knew you were too weak to walk to your bathroom across the hall. It took so much energy to even sit up, much less actually get on your feet.

Suna must have sensed something was wrong because in mere seconds he was lifting the heavy blanket off of your body and moving closer. Your breath hitched when he moved one strong arm under your back and another under your knees, eyes concentrated.

“Put your arm around my neck,” Suna murmured. You failed to notice the blush that had lifted to his ears because your own was blossoming on your face, making your already warm cheeks heat up even more.

This is purgatory.

You did as he said, lightly wrapping your arm up his shoulder and around his neck. He picked you up in one smooth motion, shocking you. You knew he worked out because of volleyball, but jesus christ. Your head throbbed in protest to the movement, and you winced involuntarily.

“Sorry, shouldn’t have moved so fast.”

“S’fine.”

Your heart was beating frantically in your chest from the proximity. You were so close you could see the long eyelashes that framed his eyes, light traces of black eyeliner around the corners. You saved that in the back of your mind to ask about later.

Suna carried you into the bathroom and placed you gently on the counter. You pushed away the noise of protest that you wanted to let out from the loss of contact. No need to embarrass yourself even more.

“I’ll get you some clothes and leave them outside, take as long as you want.”

You murmured a small thank you as you watched him move towards the door. You hated that you missed him already.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here the whole time.”

“Like I care.”

“Yea, okay princess.”

You glared at him as he closed the door behind him with a small chuckle. Princess. You fumed at the reaction you had to the pet name.

This is horrible. I’m horrible. I’ll just blame it on him. Him and that stupidly hot smirk.

The bath became increasingly inviting as you sat, eventually leading you to strip of your dirty clothes and step into the warm water. It felt amazing. After a few minutes you felt your eyes begin to droop, the steam luring you to sleep.

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

You didn’t know how long you had slept but judging by the temperature of the water, at least 15 minutes, maybe longer. The water hadn’t cooled completely but had lost its comfortable warmth. Begrudgingly you stepped out of the water and dried off.

You wrapped the towel around yourself and padded towards the door, opening it to retrieve the clothes Suna said he left for you. Just like he said, a small stack of clothes laid on the floor. You grabbed them and faced back towards the sink, wincing at your reflection in the mirror.

You really did look awful. Embarrassment settled into your bones again as you unfolded the clothes to put them on. A small part of your brain pointed out that they were big, too big to be your clothes, but a fit of coughs cut off your train of thought.

A knock came from the door. “Y/n? You okay?”

“Ye-“ Another cough broke off your sentence.

“Knock twice if you’re dressed.”

A small smile crept up on your face at the thought of Suna being considerate. You knocked on the door twice signaling him that it was okay for him to come in. A moment later it opened. Suna was holding what seemed to be a cup of tea in his hands and you reached for it with a sigh.

“Lavender, right?” You halted in your movements.

“Yea...how did you-“

“I pay attention.”

Your face flushed. His gaze never faltered from your face. How did he say that so casually?

“You look good in my clothes.”

So that’s why they were big. You looked in the mirror again, eyes locking in on the large “Inarizaki Volleyball” plastered on the front of the black material.

“Should wear ‘em more often.”

“Shut- shut up.”

“Mhm, okay. Feelin’ better?” You nodded.

“A little. Still feel like shit.”

“Look it, too.”

“Thanks, asshole.”

A light chuckle escaped him and he moved closer towards you. Something felt different. You noticed his eyes linger on you longer, many lapses of silence filled the spaces where playful arguing usually was.

“Cap texted me and asked to bring you soup, he had to do some more shit before he came over.”

“Hm.”

“What do you mean, hm?”

You didn’t get it. Why of all people would Kita send Suna to tend to you? What about Aran? Osamu? Hell, even Atsumu would have been higher on the list than Suna. Maybe…

“That bastard.”

“Woah now, what did Cap do to you?”

Kita was one of the only people who knew about your crush. Of course he would pull some strings to get Suna to come over. That little-

“Hey now pretty thing, don’t frown too much. You’ll get wrinkles.”

It was then you noticed a light touch on your forehead, right in between your eyebrows. Suna was rubbing the space there, just like you had wanted to do to him.

You hoped Suna couldn’t tell how fast your heart was beating or just how much you knew you were blushing.

After a moment of silence Suna still hadn’t removed the touch on your face. He met your eyes, slowly moving to cup your cheek.

“Why are you here, Rin?” His thumb stroked your cheek with a feather-like graze and you swore you saw his eyes flit downwards to your lips. “To take care of you, of course.”

“You’re going to catch my cold.”

“You’ll just have to pay me back later, yeah?”

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the corners of his mouth edging upwards.

what the fuck did i do to deserve this?

You pushed his hand away and looked away from his gaze. You could manage standing from afar and pining, sure, but what you couldn’t deal with was Suna messing around with you like this. You ignored the ache in your chest, choosing to cover it up by reaching for another tissue.

“Y/n.” You ignored him.

“Y/n, look at me.” You braced your arms on the bathroom sink with a sigh.

“What, Suna.”

“Rin. It’s Rin, to you.” You scoffed.

“Why am I any different than anyone else?”

“Because…”

You turned to face him again, confusion and slight annoyance bubbling under your skin. “Because what?” Suna groaned and ran a hand over his face. “You’re so oblivious.”

Okay, now you were annoyed.

“Oblivious? How am I oblivious?”

“Because you haven’t realized how different you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Are you fucking messing with me Suna? Look, I’m in no mood for your stupid games-“

“Would you shut up for one second and think.”

You leaned back against the sink with a cough, wincing as another throb of pain shot through your head. Any traces of anger or annoyance vanished from Suna’s face in an instant. He left the bathroom and you heard him rustling through the bag he left in your room. He returned with a bottle of pills and an ice pack.

“Here. Take these.” You took the small pills from his outstretched hand and washed them down with the now lukewarm tea. “Have you thought about it?” You rolled your eyes dramatically, placing your hand under your chin to mock a thinking position. “No, I don’t think I have.” He rolled his eyes in return. “Fine. Would I be doing this for anyone else? Hm?”

It’s a good point. One you didn’t bother thinking about. Sure, maybe he would do it for his teammates, but that was a hard maybe. He just wasn’t the caretaker type, much less with someone he wasn’t close with. You realized the implication behind his words in an instant.

“You...you like me?”

“‘Bout time you figured that out, sweetheart.”

All of the moments between you two passed through your mind in a frenzy, and you started to laugh. It was hysterical, really. All this time you just knew Suna could never like you back.

i take it back. thank you. sorry for saying fuck you

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He scoffed, “And risk losing my appearance? Hell no,” he said, sending you that damn smirk again.

“You are a menace, Rintaro.”

“Yea, but I’m your menace. You’re stuck with me.”

“That’s horrifying.”

“Oh shush, ya love me.”

“Yea, yea. Now, get me back in my bed. I need to sleep.”

“Inviting me to bed already? Wow y/n.”

“I hate you.” He reached over and pecked your cheek.

“Hate you, too.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#fanfic #suna rintarō #suna x reader #suna rinatro #suna x you #hq fluff #haikyuu x reader

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chocolatecakecas · 3 years

Text

The Start of Forever: Destiel Honeymoon Ficlet

Warmth. That was the first thing Dean’s mind registered as he began to wake up. Then, he heard soft breathing, and felt familiar arms wrapped securely around his waist.

A smile tugged at his lips as the memories from yesterday came flooding back. Blue eyes, soft smiles, tears of joy, tight hugs, music and laughter. The vows, the kiss, the first dance, the speeches, their family, and the love that filled every corner of the room.

Through half-lidded eyes, he surveys his side of the room, landing on the silver and blue ring on his night stand. His eyes snap open.

It was real. They finally did it.

His gaze continues to travel down to the floor where he spots a rumpled dress shirt and pants. Memories from last night come rushing back.

Strong hands, burning hot skin, soft lips, heavy breathing, and those gorgeous blue eyes. His smile grows even wider.

It was all real. A soft gasp escapes his lips as a new sensation washes over him.

This morning, is the first time he's waking up with his husband. The first time he's waking up wrapped in his husband's arms.

Dean slowly shifts until he faces Cas. He gently reaches a hand out, pushing his hair messy hair out of Cas' face.

(Read the rest under the cut)

Dean's eyes trail over his features. Long lashes, the slope of his nose, chapped lips, down to his bare, tanned chest that's littered with bruises (what can Dean say? He just really likes Cas'....everything).

Wow, now who's getting their freak on watching other people sleep, Dean thinks to himself, grinning at the far off memory.

But Dean can't help it because Cas just looks like-well like an angel in his sleep, so gorgeous and peaceful.

But Dean knows all too well that "peaceful" goes right out the window as soon as he opens his eyes. Cas is not a morning person.

He huffs a laugh, thinking about the scene that's been playing out every morning. While Dean's at the stove, Cas will stumble into the kitchen and do his best impression of an octopus, flopping himself on Dean's back for a few moments, then he'll press a kiss behind his ear, grab his coffee (that Dean made, Cas still can't figure out the coffee maker) and slump down in a chair. Then they'll share breakfast together, with soft smiles and warm conversation waiting for Jack to barrel into the kitchen to join them, followed by Sam and Eileen.

It's all very domestic, and it's quickly becoming Dean's new favorite thing. And today will be the first time he does it, with his husband.

And if he wants that to happen together, he better stop staring at said husband, and get moving. With one last look and a kiss to his forehead, he reluctantly pulls himself from Cas' grip. Grabbing his ring, he quietly makes his way down the hall.

Dean immediately gets to work on Cas' favorite, blueberry pancakes, leaving some extra batter aside to just put chocolate chips in, for Jack. He pours it onto the sizzling flat top, and throws the bacon on the other end.

As he waits, Dean's eyes trail to the clock on the wall, and he curses at the time.

They were already off schedule. The price of wedding night bliss.

Today's a big day. And they are nowhere near ready to go yet, their bags aren't even in Baby's truck yet. They had gotten a bit distracted when they were packing a few nights ago (Dean blames Cas and his stupidly tight jeans he wanted to bring along). And if Cas keeps trying to pack his new, incredibly hot clothes, for the sole purpose of riling him up (Dean I need the leather jacket, what if it gets cold at night), they were never going to make it to Florida.

Their honeymoon.

They're staying at beach house for a week, courtesy of the minds of Sam and Eileen. Now he’s gonna be splashing in the ocean with Cas, playing rigged games together on the boardwalk, taking walks on the beach with his husband under the moonlight.

They are finally going to get to stick their toes in the sand.

Dean feels tears begin to prick in his eyes as he starts the coffee pot. He lets out a watery laugh.

Dean never thought he'd get this far. Hell, he didn't even think he'd make it to forty, much less get to spend the rest of his life with his best friend that he's been in love with for years. And now they're married, and they're going on their honeymoon.

His breathe catches in his throat, as he fills Cas' favorite mug.

Over the past few months, Dean has gotten more than he's ever allowed himself to want. He's gotten his freedom, the chance to live the rest of his life, the way he wants, with the people he wants. With Cas, his husband, and their three year old son, who's getting bigger everyday. With his brother and Eileen, soon to be sister in law. With his mom and Bobby, and Charlie, Claire, Jody and Donna, and the rest of his family which seems to be growing, for the first time in his life. And he-

Dean is pulled from his thoughts he feels warmth consumes him. Arms snake around his waist and a chin rests on his shoulder.

A smile stretches across his face.

"Mornin' sunshine".

All Dean gets in return is a squeeze and a contented hum. Cas hangs for a moment, running gentle fingers up and down Dean’s chest. Then he pushes off, grabs his mug and plops down at the table.

Dean plates pancakes for the both of them and turns, pausing at the scene before him.

Cas is propped up on his elbow, staring at Dean with dazed eyes and a relaxed smile on his lips. He's wearing Dean's robe and a pair sweatpants, not bothering with a shirt. Dean's breathe hitches when he catches sight of the ring on his finger.

Dean smiles wider. That's his husband.

Dean quickly sits at the table, passing Cas his plate.

Cas gives a soft smile as a silent thank you, and they begin to eat.

Dean tries to go over the list of things they still need to do, but it's hard to focus, when his new husband is sitting inches away from him, wearing his wedding ring.

Focus Winchester. They need to finish packing the rest of their clothes (can't forget their matching Hawaiian shirts), they need to load up the trunk, double check that they have enough sun screen and beach towels, make sure Jack is settled with Sam and Eileen as they'll be watching him for the week. The thought pulls at Dean's heart, he'll miss his kid, they haven't been all been apart that long, not sin-

A hand wrapping around his own pulls him from his thoughts, and his heart he didn't realize was racing, slows

He looks up and is met with a tilted head and concerned blue eyes (some things never change). Cas squeezes his hand, a question on his lips, but Dean just smiles and squeezes back.

Cas always knows what he needs.

The smile seems to put Cas as ease, and his eyes trail down to their clasped hands, widening a little when he sees Dean's ring.

Cas slowly looks back up, lips parted in shock for a moment, then a smile takes over. And with a gravelly voice that should be illegal, he says

"Good morning, Dean".

And that's what does it.

Dean is sitting in their kitchen, eating blueberry pancakes, holding the hand of the man he married less than twenty four hours ago.

Dean never even allowed himself to dream, and now this has become his reality. Sitting across from his grumpy husband, his first best friend, rings on their fingers.

And he gets to do this, every single day, for the rest of his life. And he ju-

Little feet pound down the hall and Jack bursts into the kitchen greeting them loudly, pulling them from their daze.

With an amused smile, Cas moves first, grabbing Jack's plate and sippy cup, as Jack runs to his seat next to Dean.

They sit together, as Jack bounces in his seat telling them about how much fun he had at the "big party", and that he thinks they should all do it again.

Just as Dean is explaining they'll be having another "big party" for Uncle Sammy and Aunt Eileen's wedding, the very hungover couple appears in the doorway.

Dean and Cas share a laugh, as they watch them slump down in their chairs, plates piled high.

Dean's gaze travels over his little family as they eat and laugh over last nights events.

If one of them had told him a few months ago that this would be his life, he would have laughed in their face, and assumed they were possessed.

And now here they all sit. His husband, his son, his brother and his sister in law/new best friend, all sitting around a table, the day after his wedding, eating pancakes without a care in the world.

They really did it.

Cas stands and places his plate in the sink.

He drapes his standing body over Dean grabbing his hands, as he rests his head on his shoulder

"I love you, but I'm going to pack without any distractions, so we don't miss honeymoon". Cas whispers, amusement present in his voice.

He presses a soft kiss to Dean's cheek.

"Thank you for the pancakes, my love".

And with that, Dean watches in a daze, heart pounding in his chest, as Cas disppears down the hall, throwing a smirk over his shoulder.

My love, that's Cas' new favorite because it always knocks the wind out of Dean, causing his brain to momentarily short circuit.

He slowly looks back to the rest of his family at the table.

Eileen and Jack are signing back and forth (Jack is fluent in ASL, and a ton of other languages, it's the half angel in him, but he actually can't read in any language, go figure), while Sam tries not to fall asleep, with his head lolling in his hand.

Dean stared at them for a moment, taking in the sheer normalcy of the scene before him. As he laughs at Sam jerking himself awake, his thoughts travelled back to Cas, who was packing. Alone. In their bedroom.

And with that Dean was up, plate in the sink, hastily making his way to to their room, to find his husband. They were already off schedule, so he figured could afford to be a little later.

But now, as they drive together late into the night, accompanied by the sounds of Cas' mixtape (the first one Dean made him, it was his favorite after all), Dean thinks about what his life has become.

He glances down at their hands, clasped loosely across the bench, his eyes traveling up to Cas's face, illuminated by the glow of passing street lights.

Soon they'll be on a beach together, soaking up the sun in dorky floral shirts, and pastel shorts. Basking in the bliss of their honeymoon, alongside the love of his life.

Cas turns his head, meeting Dean’s eyes in the darkness. A gentle smile rests on his lips, which Dean automatically mirrors. And giving his hand a squeeze, Dean turns his gaze back to the road ahead.

Today was only day one, and they have the rest of their lives to go.

Tag list:

@theangelwiththewormstache @smiledean @shelikestv @starrynightdeancas @chaoticdean @midnightwings-deancas @jellydeans @sunshine-jack @archervale

@wikiangela @organicpurplepants @bbcalamity @tkdwolf2012 @doemons-blog @rolling-stoned-girl @skylerkernaghan @shadowywerewolfqueen @the-cookie-navy

@martymar1963 @thelahatiel @thefantasyfiend @castielle-deanna @aestheticflyer26 @multi-fandom-imagine @x-mypeopleskillsarerusty-x

(As always, please let me know if you would like to be added or removed💛!!!)

#i am having a LOT of feelings about their first morning and their honeymoon #as always i am legally obligated to baby jack truth do jack is an ACTUAL three year old child #idk i wrote fluff which i never do??? i hope you like it and that it makes sense!!!#dean winchester #castiel #destiel wedding #destiel honeymoon #destiel #jack kline #eileen leahy #bec writes #deancas #casdean #baby!jack #baby jack truthing #dadstiel #destiel fic #destiel ficlet

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ateezmakemeweep · 3 years

Text

line without a hook.

mingi x reader; lovers to strangers au

word count: 13k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of death)

you could personally never understand one’s desire to run as far away from their hometown as they could.

maybe it’s because you’ve had the privilege of growing up in a beautiful, prosperous place, with cozy winters, amazing festivals and snowfalls on the frozen lake before spring came and melted it away.

maybe it’s because you have fond memories tied back to this picturesque place, shops and restaurants surrounding the lake in a way that almost seemed too magical to really exist.

you’ve met so many different people purely because of that sight, men and women of different cultures and backgrounds always so eager to take in your hometown’s natural beauty.

fortunately for you, the lake ran right through your yard and acted as a place of solace where you could get away from everything in the busy, touristy town.

a place you went when you were feeling happy, sad, angry or when, truthfully, you didn’t know how to feel.

it’s also where you first met your boyfriend, one of the many come and go visitors, who introduced himself as mingi.

except he had walked right through your backyard like he owned the place, a small smile on his handsome face as he took in the sight of the frozen water.

he looked at it with such wonder and fascination, like he’d never seen anything like it before in his life; and you can remember that night, even with how you’re feeling right now, that he looked at you the same way.

it’s the only thing that reminds you, at some point, you two must have really loved each other.

two years ago - december 13th

you were hunched over your desk finishing the last of your final essay, only a page left before you could throw every syllabus away and rejoice at having two months of winter break.

it was a chilly night but you couldn’t help but be outside on the porch, a big warm sweater and fuzzy socks on as you read over your work so far.

you’d gotten used to the sounds of nature, the chirping of birds, pitter patter of animal feet and even the loud, slightly terrifying barks of deer.

but the footsteps crunching on the leaves in your driveway definitely weren’t those of chipmunks or rabbits, your strained neck craning over to see a tall figure walking right past your porch and deep into your backyard.

strangely enough, whether it be the frigid temperatures getting to you or the stress of finishing this paper, you weren’t panicked; the man technically wasn’t even on your property, he was right outside of it along the grass that turned to decking.

so you continued to make revisions and edit your paper silently, your eyes fluttering up ever so often to check on the mysterious, tall figure. his shoulders were broad and his hair was messy, that much you could tell from your spot on the porch.

when five minutes past, then ten, then twenty, and he had still yet to move or realize he was in someone’s yard, you decided to investigate - because one, how long could he really stare at this frozen mass of water and two, your head was pounding from looking at this stupid document.

so without an ounce of fear or hesitation, you wrapped your sweater tighter around your body and made your way down to the man.

your slippers were loose so the last remaining bits of snow were seeping into your socks, a slight grimace on your face when the coldness touched your skin.

the sound of crunching snow caused him to turn around, his lips quirking up into a small smile when you came into view.

it was when you got closer that you saw just how attractive he was, pale skin that glowed, plump lips that were slightly chapped and messy hair that looked even better up close.

he looked different than most locals and tourists around here, many of them pastel wearing men who wouldn’t dare stick an earring in their skin.

but the man in front of you had a completely different vibe, earrings and chains and a gray t-shirt that stretched across his broad chest despite the freezing temperatures tonight.

a few minutes of silence pass, neither him nor you concerned about filling it; it seemed as if he could’ve stared at the lake just as long as you could’ve wondered why the hell he liked it so much.

“aren’t you cold?”

more silence passed and for a second you think maybe he didn’t hear your blurted out question.

but then you discover he did when he looked at you with a smirk, the snow crackling underneath him as he shifts to take in your big sweater and pink slippers.

“no.”

it’s a short and simple response but his voice is somehow incredibly warm, looking at you with a twinge of soft light in his eyes before he opens his mouth again.

“why? are you?”

a confused smile pulls at your lips as you shake your head, looking over his bare (muscular) arms conspicuously.

“no. but i’m not wearing a t-shirt in december.”

he sends a smile your way, his large body turning allowing you to fully take in just how big he is. you feel incredibly small next to him and it should probably make you nervous - a large, stranger unwelcomed in your yard and staring down at you.

but there’s a weird sense of tranquility over both of you in this moment, the moon shining off the frozen lake as his gaze meets yours.

“well that’s a good thing,” he hums, your eyebrow quirking up before he continues. “because i don’t have a jacket to give you.”

a surprised chuckle leaves your mouth that has a smile spreading across your face and he feels his own doing the same at the sight of it.

“what makes you think i’d take a jacket from a stranger?”

his eyebrow raises after a few seconds of pondering the rhetorical question, his large hand suddenly coming between your bodies.

“my name’s mingi. i’m staying a few houses over at my aunt’s for the holidays.”

your lips purse together as you wrack your brain for which neighbor it could possibly be, remembering that the woman who brought you left over lasagna for thanksgiving mentioned her nephew was coming for christmas and new years.

she didn’t mention that her nephew looked like this or that he went onto the property of anyone he pleased.

“i’m y/n,” you say, taking your smaller hand in his cold one before a teasing smiles crosses your face. “and we’re actually standing in my backyard. so thank you for trespassing so politely, mingi.”

his eyes widen as an embarrassed look crosses his face, the small hint of pink on his cheeks just as endearing as it is humorous.

“i- i’m so sorry, oh, my god,” he chuckles out, your cold hands still intertwined. “my aunt said i could take the first road i saw to get to the lake. that there was a better view down here than from her house.”

and you can see in his eyes the exact moment his next sentence came into his mind, like he thought it was gonna be the smoothest and coolest thing he’d ever said.

“and it looks like she was right.”

the loud laugh that bubbles out of you is uncontrollable, mingi’s quickly following as his cheeks turn even more pink.

“sorry, i couldn’t help myself,” he mumbles sheepishly, sounding completely unapologetic as he finally pulls his hand away from yours; you try not to think about how much colder your hand feels now, quickly sticking it in the pocket of your sweater to compensate.

“right,” you quip, a tiny giggle leaving you as you crane your neck to meet his gaze. “but really, you should probably get a jacket if you’re gonna be out here a lot. you don’t wanna get sick and it can get pretty cold here.”

“will do,” he hums, his eyes roaming yours and making your heart jump in your chest; he really is the most attractive person you’ve ever seen.

there’s a few beats of silence as he cranes his neck to look out at the lake, eyes roaming what seems like every piece of frozen ice and snowy tree surrounding it.

“my aunt actually told me people sometimes skate on it.”

“yeah,” you confirm with a nod, taking the time to look at the beauty you take for granted every day. “it’s thick enough this year. sometime we’re not allowed.”

“cool,” he says with a smile, a slight shiver running through him that makes you frown. “so... can i come back here to do that?” he asks, his eyes hopeful and soft as he looks at you. “or should i use the real path?”

your eyebrows pull together at his question, confusion covering your face but only meeting his cocky, playful one.

“are you asking if we can skate together?”

he bites down on his lip so he doesn’t smile larger, his tongue peeking out just before his teeth make contact.

“yeah,” he hums lowly, the deep tone of his voice sending butterflies through your stomach. “i guess i am.”

your lips quirk to the side as you weigh out the pros and cons.

you’re on your own a lot and definitely miss talking to someone.

he’s attractive and funny and seemingly nice enough.

you know his aunt and can easily confirm his story, the chances of him being a murderer who moseyed into town considerably low.

the only con you can think of is falling on your ass in front of him and even that it isn’t such a deal breaker.

so you smile at him and nod your head, a melodic “okay,” leaving your mouth that has him smiling back at you just as sweetly.

present day:

you knew going to this dinner with mingi was gonna end in disaster.

you were both too on edge after your fight this morning, past the point of screaming and yelling for hours that, now, you’ll exchange a few harsh words at each other before falling silent.

you’ve learned that the tense silence after a fight is worse than screaming and yelling.

at least with that, it seems as if there’s still some passion there. there’s words being exchanged and feelings coming to the surface that both people feel motivated enough to express.

but with the silence, you’re both bottling it up.

deeming it useless and letting it brew and brew and brew until one of you goes completely over the edge - and more often than not, that person is him.

the car ride over is no better, not even the radio playing to distract you both from the building tension in the air.

your friends know immediately that something is up, yunho eyeing mingi and san eyeing you; yunho, san, seonghwa, and wooyoung had been your friends since elementary school.

you’d been through a lot with them and have seen each other at all your highs and lows.

throughout your two-year relationship with mingi, him and yunho had grown especially close and it was sweet to see; you knew it was important for mingi to have another friend in a place he didn’t grow up in and you were genuinely happy they created a great friendship.

“hey guys!” wooyoung chirped happily, already chowing down on the chips and salsa in the middle of the table. “how is everyone?”

and like he’s almost oblivious to the tension in the room, mingi only mumbles a grumbled “fine,” before he starts happily babbling again. you try a little harder to put up on a happy front, giving wooyoung a small smile as you talk to him about your last semester of school.

as the dinner goes on, appetizers turning to meals and meals turning to alcohol, mingi downs sangria after sangria before he becomes a lot more chatty.

“oh, shit, there he is,” wooyoung smiles happily, a drunken flush to his face as he pokes his arm playfully. “you were scaring me for a hot second. looking all pissed off and shit.”

“that’s because i was pissed off. still am, if i’m being honest, woo,” mingi says, a conniving hint in his tone as he finishes the last of his drink.

your eyes immediately move to him and you’re quick to narrow them, hoping and praying he doesn’t start round two in this public restaurant right now; but apparently, that’s exactly what he plans on doing.

“what’s with the face, y/n?”

mingi spits your name out like it’s the last thing he wants to say, a quietly snapped “nothing,” leaving your mouth.

san and yunho look to each other immediately, concern on both their faces as they feel the tension start creeping back up.

they knew something was wrong the second you both came in, have known things have been off between you two for months, and it was even more obvious when you immediately took the seats a few spots away from each other.

“nothing?” he asks, his voice deep and gravely due to his anger and the alcohol. “because it sure looks like you wanna say something.”

“i don’t have anything to say to you.”

“you never do, do you, babe?” he asks, his humorless laugh and vindictive tone making your skin prickle.

“did you even miss me?”

your eyes meet his from across the table when he finally speaks, your eyebrow raising as you two stare at each other blankly.

he had left two nights ago after telling you he needed space, not hearing a word from him until he came barreling through the door just a few moments ago at seven a.m.

you’d just gotten up to make yourself coffee, plagued with worry and upset over your fight and his lack of communication.

“maybe if you looked at your phone, you’d know.”

because how could he think you wouldn’t miss him? how could he think you’re actually okay with him leaving after every fight? not hearing from him for a day or two while you stay in this apartment and let your mind go off into every worst case scenario.

a humorless laugh can only leave him as he shakes his head.

“of course you’re putting the blame back on me. i just can’t make you happy, can i, y/n?”

“you staying after a fight would make me happy. but of course, you can’t do that for me, can you?”

he doesn’t say anything and instead just clenches his jaw painfully tight.

you watch it tick dangerously and instead of feeling anger or sadness, you just feel utterly defeated; you don’t know how many times you guys have had this exact conversation.

a fight will happen.

he yells, you cry.

you just want him to see your tears and obvious pain and stop the yelling.

hold you and kiss your hair and mumble that you guys are gonna figure this out and get passed it.

he leaves, you stay silent.

he just wants you to fight for him a little.

call him out on his shit and prove to his insecure self that you still love and care for him, even though he’s a dick. ask him to please stay because he wants to figure this out and get passed it.

but then he comes back and you’re both okay for a bit, just for the cycle to repeat itself over and over.

“is that why you leave, mingi?” you speak again, looking at him curiously as you shake your head.

“make me sit here and worry about you for days, while you purposely ignore me, just so i can tell you i miss you? is that what you want?”

the words are on the tip of his tongue. that yes, that’s exactly what he wants from you.

but the words are also on the tip of your tongue. that you want his first instinct to be to stay. to stay here and talk things out with you before immediately jumping up to flee.

he wants you to tell him you miss him but you want him to tell you he loves you, that he loves you enough to stay when you guys fight; but right now, neither of you are even sure if that’s true anymore.

“i don’t know about y/n, you guys,” mingi says suddenly at dinner, the drunken slur to his voice evident to everyone. “i love her but sometimes.... i think i actually fucking hate her.”

you feel your heart sink when those words leave his mouth, your face dropping just as the boys call out his name roughly.

“mingi, what the fuck,” san growls from across the table; but the boy is completely unbothered, shrugging his broad shoulders as he looks directly at you.

“how ‘bout you, babe? how do you feel about me?” he asks, leaned back against his chair like he’s completely calm, cool and collected.

“i’m not having this discussion with you right now.”

“you never want to have this discussion,” he mocks, the anger and rage in his eyes only making your blood boil even more.

“i’m getting tired of it, y/n. i’m getting tired of all this shit.”

his voice is raising and you’re becoming increasingly embarrassed, knowing that the last place for this blowout fight is in front of your friends in a public setting.

“mingi, this really isn’t the place to-”

“shut up, yunho, we’re gonna finally-”

but you’re not intending on doing anything, already feeling humiliated and belittled as you get up from your seat and walk toward the door.

you leave your bag and jacket so the boys know you’re not leaving, hoping and praying that your drunk asshole of a boyfriend follows you outside; and sure enough, two minutes later, you smell his familiar cologne when the door opens.

neither of you say anything for the first few seconds, him leaned against the wall and you facing him with your hands on your hips.

“what’s your problem?”

it’s the first thing you think to ask, looking at him with such concern and defeat in your eyes.

you hope he can see it but you’re sure he can’t, far too absorbed in whatever he’s been going through for the past few months to notice.

“i don’t have a problem.”

“you obviously do,” you snap, your voice raising as you take a step closer to him.

“you just embarrassed me in front of everyone and you’re acting like a fucking child. we could’ve had this conversation at the house instead of not speaking for days.”

“why? so you could just turn shit around on me or ignore what i’m saying?” he snaps back, raising an eyebrow as he looks down at you. “maybe we need an outside source to listen.”

“not our friends, mingi, and not at a public dinner when you’re getting drunk.”

“you always have an answer for everything, don’t you?” he snaps, his jaw clenching and eyes flaring as he continues to peer down at you.

“and it’s always on me. when we tried to talk this morning, you blew me off, too, y/n. it’s like you don’t ever wanna have this discussion.”

“because i don’t know what you want me to say, mingi. how many times do i have to repeat myself and tell you i don’t know what you want from me?”

“have you ever thought that maybe that’s the fucking problem, y/n? that after all of this, you still don’t know what i want from you? are you fucking stupid?”

“are you fucking stupid?” you yell back, the suppressed anger and rage you knew was brewing boiling over right here and now.

“you want me to tell you that i miss you when you leave every other week, mingi? why would i tell someone that who could give a shit? i could tell you i miss you or that i’ll miss you and you’ll still fucking leave me.”

“how do you know?” he snaps, “you’ve never tried!”

“i’ve never tried?” you yelp, tears of frustration burning your eyes as you look at him.

“what’s me texting you when you leave like a little bitch every single time? or me obviously worrying when you pull that stupid shit over and over? i’ve been trying mingi and you don’t care! you leave me crying alone every single time!”

he meets your gaze with fire in his eyes and you can only stare back with tears in yours, waiting for him to scream something before he decides to kick over the metal garbage can a few feet away from you.

you watch as it clatters against the side walk, a loud, deep “fuck!” leaving him as you watch him blankly. his chest is heaving and you can tell he doesn’t know what to do with himself right now but you also don’t know anymore.

because you’re shaking inside and out and feel like you wanna throw up, knowing that right now you both look like the worst type of couple; but it’s nothing compared to how you feel, how even though you don’t want to, you can’t stop yourself from acting out on these negative feelings.

“and if i never try, mingi, then just leave again,” you say, tears blurring your vision and a lump growing in your throat. “you can stay and come home with me tonight. or you can leave. at this point, i’m too tired to care.”

you weren’t surprised to go home alone that night.

watch as seonghwa and yunho helped your boyfriend to their car and promised that he’d be back in a few days; you were only able to sleep soundly that night because you knew he was safe with them.

but it didn’t stop you from crying yourself to sleep that night, the night after that and the night after that for the next week; the same would’ve probably happened the next night, too, at least for a little bit, had you not heard your front door open just after midnight.

you were getting in one last episode of your drama when mingi returned home, craning your neck back to see him lazily kicking off his shoes at the front door.

his head looked up to meet your gaze, the glow of the tv hitting him just enough to tell you he looked like shit.

he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was tousled messily, like he hadn’t washed it since you last saw him. his face was sunken and pale as if he’d been away in the wild for months opposed to his friend’s house for just a little over a week.

but when he’s away from you, this is what happens each and every time - he can’t sleep or eat or function properly.

he’s only plagued with the thought of you, memories running through his mind or constantly wondering what you’re doing. if you’re safe and feeling okay or if something bad is gonna happen to you because he’s not there.

the couch dips next to you before you feel his skin graze yours, a quietly mumbled “hey,” like he just came in from work casually spoken through the air.

you crane your neck up at him to look in his sunken eyes, an uncontrollable frown on your face as you swipe your finger across his purple skin.

it’s the softest touch he’s received in a week and he’s missed it more than he cares to admit. shutting his eyes and smiling slightly when he hears you mumble “hi” back.

you bask in each other’s comfort and warmth for the rest of the episode in silence, your head resting on his shoulder and his arm wound tightly around you until the tv screen falls black.

you two walk into bed and he pulls you down with him, your head falling to his chest and his hands in your hair. you moan against him sleepily and it’s a sound he’s missed so dearly, tightening his hold on you as he feels his body immediately relax.

you’re both completely comfortable and at ease, days of worrying finally calmed as you’re beside one another again.

but even with this comfort, even with the familiar feel of each other’s skin and warmth soothing both of you, you know it won’t be enough.

because you still don’t say you missed him and he still doesn’t tell you he loves you.

a year and 11 months ago - january 10th

you weren’t sure if it was possible to fall in love in less than a month but it really felt as if you and mingi did.

from the moment you saw him two days after your initial meeting, skating together and braving the frozen lake together, your connection was immediate.

you’d spent everyday with each other, frolicking through the town in the afternoon before going back to your house at night.

you usually spent it cuddled up on the couch or making food in your kitchen, his arms wrapping around your waist before tossing you up on the counter playfully.

“you didn’t strike me as a chef,” you tell him, watching him stir a pot of noodles with a content look on his face.

“well, i didn’t strike you as a rapper either,” he says, a smirk on his face as a giggle leaves your mouth.

you learned that mingi was an aspiring rapper, him and his friend hongjoong trying to get their foot in the door for the past year. you listened to a few of their songs and even got a live performance from him, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed as you watched him.

in a fit of absolute astonishment, because you didn’t think mingi could get any more attractive, you blurted out that he didn’t seem like a rapper. that his personality was too “cute and charming” despite the deep growl to his raps and voice.

“i told you just personality wise,” you whine with a pout, reaching your hand out to squeeze his arm reassuringly. “but appearance wise, absolutely. you’re very tough. very cool looking. i’m scared of you.”

“you’re making this a lot worse for yourself, baby,” he hums lowly, another giggle leaving your mouth as you bite down on your lip.

“did your friend hear back from that producer yet?” you ask him curiously, your legs criss-crossed as you sit on the counter and peer up at him.

he looks over to see you staring at him all wide-eyed and interested, a soft, happy glint in your gaze that makes his heart pull in his chest.

he hasn’t even known you for a month but he’s never been this happy before.

he’s never had anyone be there for him the way you’ve been, dedicating their time to him and being so actively interested and supportive of his decisions; it also doesn’t help that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both inside and out, that made him extend his trip a week longer.

he couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to you yet and he’s still not sure if he can; he’s grown incredibly attached to you and it’s something he’s never felt before.

something all consuming and magical that’s making him incredibly vulnerable.

“not yet,” he mumbles, his eyes roaming your face.

your eyebrows pull together when you notice the way he’s looking at you, soft and sweet with a fondness that makes your heart flutter dangerously.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

a smile crosses his face as he lowers the heat on the stove, caging your body in and cocking his head to the side. he bites down on his lip when he sees your eyes widen, a large hand coming up to push pieces of hair out of your face.

“because i’m happy i met you.”

a small, touched smile pulls at your lips as you peer up at him, raising your own hand to smooth out the chain around his neck.

your fingers brush against his warm skin and it’s like there’s electricity coursing through both of you, your bodies close and hot breath wafting together.

“i’m happy i met you too, mingi.”

his heart soars at the way you say his name, eyes falling to your lips as he presses himself closer to you. you push yourself against the cabinets, swallowing the lump in your throat when you follow his gaze.

your tongue peeks out to lick over them unconsciously, your own eyes falling to his lips. you feel your stomach swoop dangerously, wanting so badly to feel them on yours - they’re one of the first things you noticed about him.

“y/n?”

“hm?” you hum, your eyes lingering on his mouth before hazily meeting his eyes; and there you see it, the soft intensity you’ve yet to grow used to.

you’ve seen this look from him more times than you can remember despite the short time you’ve known each other.

on the lake when you two were skating, grasping each other’s hands and giggling as you tried to keep yourselves from falling back.

in town when your hands bumped and you’d stop dead in your tracks to look at each other, completely unaware of the people around you giving each other knowing looks.

on the couch when you’d allow your head to rest on his shoulder, cuddling closer to him because the weather is really cold for january and you need body heat.

but it’s never been as strong as it now.

your heart’s never been beating this fast and you haven’t been able to feel his own pounding against his chest. probably because he was nervous to ask-

“can i kiss you?”

neither of you can remember what happened after he uttered those words.

just that one minute, he said it and the next, your mouths were connected. parting on one another’s as he completely caged your body with his.

your arms wound around his neck and he hummed contently against your mouth, slipping his tongue in when you started playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

he had half the mind to turn off the stove before carrying you to the couch, your legs wound tightly around his waist as every hint of desire and want overtook you.

he plopped himself down as you situated yourself on his lap, lips never disconnecting. you moaned against him when you felt his body underneath yours, tongues colliding and mouths pulled into smiles.

his hands gripped onto your hips gently, pulling your body closer to his as your kisses grew hungrier and more intense.

you finally pulled apart for air with heaving chests and red, puffy lips, your eyes meeting and every hint of vulnerability and longing in them.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he finally says softly, almost whispering it in fear that someone else would hear.

but this house is empty. it always is and it has been for quite some time.

until you met him and he completely changed your life.

now there were two pairs of shoes at the door and two empty cups in the sink. there was someone to talk to and someone to be in the silence with.

because you’ve learned over this past month that even a silence with someone else is way better than the silence of being alone.

“me... me too,” you admit shyly, a warm blush creeping up on your face. “i’m... really, really happy you’re here, mingi.”

his eyes widen when he sees tears well up in your eyes, his mouth pulled into a frown as he brings his hands to your face.

but you only shake your head before he can comment on it, placing your hand atop his before connecting your lips again.

he meets the kiss with the fervor you need, everything about it soft and sweet and passionate. like you guys know time is running out and you need to fit it all in.

“that producer got back to me and wants to meet in person so you’ll be home next week, yeah?” hongjoong asked mingi over the phone, the boy laid out on his bed a few days later.

he can only keep replaying the memory of you in his mind, the tone of your voice and the teary look in your eye when you told him how happy you were that he’s been here.

there was a certain type of sadness behind you that he hasn’t been able to shake, making it incredibly hard for him to pick a day to just pack up his car and go.

“i... uh. i don’t know, yet.”

“what?” hongjoong asked.

him and mingi had been waiting to meet producers for months, getting either put on a list or straight up rejected. and now when they have a chance, “you don’t know yet?”

mingi licks over his lips as he hears the disbelief in his friend’s voice, knowing that hongjoong won’t be able to believe this. they’ve been waiting for this moment ever since they were in high school and had the dream of rapping as a duo.

he was only supposed to be here for a few days and now it was almost a month. what could possibly be keeping him there? what could possibly have made mingi-

“what could you possibly not know, mingi? we’ve been waiting for this moment for years. you even extended your trip for a bullshit reason thinking i’d really buy it.”

“okay but my aunt really did need help around the house...” he mumbles because yes, she needed help around the house as she redid her bathroom but she was quick to hire professionals so, technically not a lie.

“so what, what’s your excuse this time? did you meet some chick?”

there’s a silence that stretches over the phone for what feels like hours, mingi attempting to find any words before hongjoong lets out a loud groan.

“a girl? mingi, are you fucking kidding me?”

“i really like her, hongjoong,” mingi tells his friend, a sweet genuineness and innocence in his deep tone. “i really, really like her and i... i don’t think i can leave her yet.”

he reluctantly opens up to hongjoong about you, telling him that you’re in school and live alone in this quiet little lake town. that you and him have been spending every second together and he’s never felt this way about anyone before.

“i’m happy for you, man, i really am,” hongjoong says, never having heard his friend talk like this before. “but i mean... is she worth changing your plans? what the hell is there for you?”

he wants to say that you. you’re there.

the girl he’s known for less than a month but has gotten him so tight around her finger - and once he leaves, will still be here.

except she’ll be within the walls of her house all alone again, in a town based off people coming and going where she’s never seemed to have a stable relationship with anyone.

where she now knows what it’s like to spend every day with someone and look forward to their company every morning and night. spend hours talking until the sun rises and sleep until it’s dark out.

“i wouldn’t be changing my plans that much. i still have our music, hongjoong. we can still do shit even if i live here.”

“live there?!? hongjoong blurts out, “you’ve been there for a less than a month, dude, that’s fucking crazy. you’ve barely know her and you’re gonna move there?”

“i can’t leave her.”

he didn’t think at the time that it was crazy. he didn’t think he’d ever come to regret that decision because, at the time, he really couldn’t imagine leaving you.

he couldn’t picture himself hugging you goodbye and telling you that you’d keep in touch via texting and facetime.

he couldn’t picture going back home with a genuine smile on his face when it felt as if he left behind something, someone, would could make him the happiest he’s ever felt.

he couldn’t picture that he’d ever come to resent you because when he told you he was gonna consider staying in town longer, a bit more permanently, the smile that lit up your face was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“really?” you smile, jumping up from your spot on the couch and running over to him.

you’re so smiley and happy and bouncy until you’re not, your face dropping ever so slightly when you look over his face.

“but wait... what about the producer? did he ever answer?”

“he did. hongjoong’s meeting with him tomorrow.”

your eyes widen at the news but he’s quick to cut you off, bend down and press a long, lingering kiss to your lips before scooping you up into his arms.

“but i told him there was something better for me here.”

present day:

he wasn’t sure when the resentment started.

he just knew that, one minute he loved you, and the next, he started to question everything.

it could’ve been from seeing hongjoong’s success, album after album and talk of him all over social media right in his face every day.

it could’ve been his lack of success, pursuing a music degree via online school while still keeping up with his previously established career as a rapper; it was enough to get the bills paid and keep his name lingering around but that’s all it was now.

it could’ve been that all of his passion was gone and he blamed you for that; because if it weren’t for you, he’d be with hongjoong now. he’d be making money and feeling inspired and at the peak of his creativity and motivation.

but he loves you, right? he loves you more than he’s loved anyone in the world and he made the right decision.

“sometimes i question if i made the right decision.”

it was a relativity quiet night for you and mingi, the past few days calm and uneventful, so you knew a fight was bound to happen soon.

and with that statement, it seemed as if the night was quickly headed in that direction.

“what do you mean?” you ask, looking up from your textbook.

he was sat on the love seat opposite you, computer in his lap and a beer on the side table as he watched you. he’d been wordlessly watching you all night and you hadn’t been sure what to make of it.

now, you can see, he might’ve been watching you with disdain.

“i mean i sometimes wonder if i made the right decision in staying here. just... so quickly not accepting that producer’s offer with hongjoong’s.”

his words hurt you more than you let on, your stomach sinking and knotting as you let his words sink in.

you had asked him for weeks after he made that decision if he was sure.

if something he worked so hard on and something he looked forward to for so long was something was worth giving up.

and anytime you asked, he’d say the same thing.

“you’re worth it.”

you wonder now if he said it so many times to qualm your ever present worries or to convince himself. tell himself over and over again that, yes this girl is worth staying here and no, i won’t come to resent her.

it’s something you worried about in the beginning but faded with time.

because your love grew stronger and you both became more secure. your relationship was the closest thing to perfect you’d ever experienced.

but not now.

now it’s a fucking disaster.

“where did that even come from?”

you can hear to your own ears how shaky and unsure your voice sounds. it’s filling you with as much shame as it does embarrassment, knowing that you can’t even talk to your own boyfriend openly and honestly.

without feeling upset, like you know you have to walk on eggshells or can’t express how much he’s been hurting you.

“i don’t know, i’ve just been thinking,” he hums, taking a swig of his beer as he adjusts himself on the couch.

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, only humming lowly as you nod your head.

you lick over your lips as you look back down uncomfortably, blankly staring at the words of your textbook. your brain can’t absorb any of the terms or phrases on the page, the sinking, awful feeling in your stomach taking over.

you can’t even remember how long you’ve felt like this.

when butterflies turned to this gut wrenching, awful feeling.

like the feeling before a plane takes off or you have a presentation to do or when the one person you’ve loved in this world has decided they don’t want you anymore.

“i stayed for you.”

the words you feared hearing pierce the air and you hold back a shaky breath, biting the inside of your cheek so harshly you’re hit with the metallic taste blood.

you look up and see his eyes narrowed in on you, tears burning the back of yours as you beg them not to fall.

because you can’t keep crying in front of him just for him to ignore you. to just watch you lose it with a blank look in his eyes, instead of holding you or attempting to soothe you.

“i couldn’t leave you alone in your house,” he begins, like the words he’s rationalizing in his head are coming out of his mouth uncontrollably.

“i wasn’t ready to leave you yet and i didn’t even think twice about how i would feel in the future. because i was so fucking consumed by you, y/n.”

there’s an obvious and palpable pain in his voice and it makes your gut wrench even more; you hate that he’s in pain but you’re in pain, too. you were in pain before him and now you’re in pain because of him.

“i’m still consumed by you but i feel...angry now. i feel so fucking angry, y/n, and i don’t know why. i don’t know if i’m mad at you or myself but i know i stayed for you. if i never met you, i never would’ve stayed here and now i feel like i’m stuck.”

“but i never asked you to stay, mingi,” you whimper out, the tears quickly coming to the surface.

they’re a mix of sadness and frustration, because it hurts so much hearing this, the obvious regret in his words, but it also makes you mad - that was his choice and his choice alone.

and it’s like he knows that too. because he doesn’t say anything in response, just continues to stare at you with a look in his eye that breaks your heart.

“i asked you so many times if you were okay with doing that,” you begin after moments of silence, your teary, wet gaze meeting his. “i asked you again and again because i knew you’d come to regret it.”

“i’m not saying i regret it, i’m just saying i-”

“you’re saying you stayed here for me like it’s my fault,” you say, shaking your head as tears leak from your eyes and down your cheek. “like i asked you to and like meeting me was your downfall. but i never told you to and i would’ve never ever expected you to.”

“what, so i was just supposed to leave you alone?” mingi growls lowly, emotion behind his tone that’s almost masked by the brashness.

he can’t help but feel all of this coming up, all of these feelings he’s been going through these past months and making him a completely different person.

“why would i have left you when i knew i loved you?”

neither of you focused on loved being past tense, probably because it’s a fact both of you know by now.

“i didn’t want anything else but you in that moment.”

“do you want a prize, mingi?” you snap, every defensive and defeated emotion coursing through your veins.

“you could’ve left me alone. you could’ve just left the way you wished you did so fucking badly. you would’ve saved yourself all of this obvious regret.”

“you think i regret staying with you?” he asks, his voice low and deep as he rises from the chair.

his frame is tall and broad and looming as he walks closer to you, standing over your chair as you sit there and stare up at him. his eyes roam your face and he follows the few tears rolling down your cheeks, his hands stiffly hanging at his sides.

he used to hate seeing you cry.

it used to make him wanna destroy whatever was hurting you. he used to kiss your tears away and wouldn’t let you leave his arms until you were smiling and laughing again.

“well, what do you call this?” you whimper quietly, sniffling and stuffy and feeling small tears stream down your face.

“you basically said if it weren’t for me, you’d be happier with your life. and i... i was so happy when you decided to stay, mingi, i’m not gonna lie to you. i was so happy because i knew we would love each other so much,” you whimper out, the knot in your throat making it difficult to speak.

“but i also knew that one day, you would probably regret it and resent me. it’s why i asked you over and over and over again. because i was so scared this was gonna happen.”

his mouth grows dry as he licks over his lips, a burning behind his eyes as he hears your voice break. he’s quick to shake his head and blink away the tears, though, because he knows if he starts crying, he’s never gonna stop.

“i thought you would leave with me eventually,” he’s finally able to get out, his throat clogged and voice gruff as he voices his innermost thoughts and wishes.

you compromised for him once, why wouldn’t you do it again?

“i thought if you actually loved me the way you claimed to, you’d be able to go.”

“well, i was always honest with you about that too,” you murmur, feeling utterly defeated and guilty as you meet mingi’s glossy eyes. “you know i never intend on leaving.”

a year and 5 months ago - june 19th

he learned about your parents accident on the 4th year anniversary of their death.

he had noticed that week you were especially gloomy, a sad look in your eye and the fake smile on your face making him cling to you just a bit more than usual.

and apparently, you had noticed too.

“mingi, are you okay?”

the words were muffled against his shirt, your face pressed against his chest as the two of you lay on the couch. his hand had been running up and down your back gently all night, like he’d been trying to calm you without any words.

like he knew there was something wrong, even though you hadn’t said a word.

his eyebrows pull together in confusion, placing his fingers under your chin. he lifts your face as his eyes search yours, that sad look behind them masked by a soft curiosity.

you’re trying to hide your pain because you think he’s hurting and that alone only makes him even more sad.

“of course i am, baby. but are you okay?”

you can’t find it in you to say yes so you only nod shyly, a small smile gracing your face as you look at him.

his eyes are full of such warmth and love that it makes tears prick behind your eyes, dropping your gaze quickly as you bury your face back in his chest.

the movement causes him to swallow nervously, adams apple bobbing as he presses his lips to the top of your head.

he knows something’s wrong. he knows something’s very wrong but he doesn’t know what happened or what’s brought this on.

“you can tell me anything,” he mumbles against your hair, his arms wrapped tightly around your body. “you know that, right?”

because he also noticed that you started seeming off when he mentioned moving in together, looking at apartments in town for himself before getting the idea to live with you.

you guys are already together all the time, it only made sense for you two to live together as well.

but he could tell immediately the idea unsettled you, you clutching desperately on to him as you muttered that you’d think about it.

at first, he would’ve assumed you didn’t wanna go that far with him. that it was too serious a commitment and you were completely uncomfortable with that.

but it was the way you were clinging to him, burying your face in his chest like you were begging him not to leave you that made him realize something deeper was going.

it’s why he dropped it at first. looked for apartments on his own with the idea that, best case scenario, you’d move in with him too.

could that be what’s wrong right now? you dealing with moving in with him and fears coming from that? or something else entirely?

he just knows that when he starts to hear you cry quietly into his chest, he needs to know what’s been wrong because he hates seeing you like this.

“hey, hey, hey,” his deep voice mumbles, large hands pulling you from his chest and wiping at your face. “what happened, baby? what’s wrong?”

and since you started crying about this, remembering the day and the circumstances around it so well, you won’t be able to stop. you can only continue to cry into him, tiny sobs wracking your body as you clutched onto him tightly.

“i... i can’t.”

you couldn’t talk, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t tell him, he wasn’t sure.

that’s why he shook his head and pulled you back into his chest, the warm safe place you’ve come to know so well and usually calmed you whenever you needed.

“i don’t know what’s wrong but i promise you’ll be okay,” you hear him mumble against your head, his hand running up and down your back gently. “i’ll try to help you in any way i can, baby, but i’m gonna need to know what’s wrong.”

but he can’t help you bring back your dead parents.

he can’t help you time travel the way you so desperately wish you could to tell yourself not to go on that senior trip.

that if you didn’t go, your parents never would’ve driven you to the airport and they never would’ve gotten in the car accident that took their life on the way back.

you’d spent a week in a foreign country while they spent a week in the hospital, your aunt and grandparents dealing with the repercussions before you came back and said your goodbyes in a dingy, hospital room.

mingi doesn’t know how long you both sat there in silence, your cries muffled against his chest and his arms wound tightly around you.

he loosened his hold immediately when he felt you try to pull away, watching as you stared at him, wiped your eyes and told him everything.

“my parents died four years ago, today.”

he watches with soft, sympathetic eyes and a breaking heart as you tell him about your guilt.

how if you just decided to stay home after weeks of begging them to go, they’d still be here.

“they didn’t have the money but i begged them for weeks, mingi,” you tell him, tears in your eyes and voice thick with emotion.

“i wanted to go so badly because all my friends were going and i was too selfish to see they really couldn’t afford it.”

he can tell you’re not done talking so he only presses his lips together and grasps your hand tightly. squeezes it reassuringly as his thumb gently rubs back and forth against your skin.

“they both worked overtime for two weeks straight and gave me the money the last day it was due. and i barely thanked them,” you remember, the scene you’ve replayed in your mind hundreds of times flashing yet again.

you jumped up from the couch and snatched the money from their hands, throwing your arms around them in a quick hug before screaming your thanks and running up to your room to tell your friends.

“a drunk diver hit them on their way home from the airport and the doctors couldn’t believe they both didn’t die on impact. a-and no one in my family could even call me so i said my goodbyes when i got home, in the hospital.”

you look to mingi with tears streaming down your cheeks and you see wetness in his own eyes, his hand grasping onto yours tight.

“i couldn’t even talk to them one last time. or hear their voices. i don’t even know if they heard me.”

your voice breaks off after that, not being able to handle recounting this after years of staying silent about it; he’s the first person you’ve talked to about this besides the counselor you saw a few months after their death.

he pulls you in his lap and wraps his arms tightly around you, rocking you back and forth as he presses his lips to your head.

your eyes are closed tight as you focus on his breathing and soft murmurs. his deep, full voice muttering sweet nothings and quiet reassurances.

that your parents did hear you and they loved you till the end.

that it was no one’s fault but the driver who decided to get in a car after getting drunk.

that you shouldn’t put any blame on yourself, because your parents would want you to be happy and thriving.

“i know but it’s just hard,” you tell him, you teary face pulling away from his wet chest.

you look around the living room full of books and wooden furniture, a family portrait hung above a cluttered-filled desk; it was taken when you were ten and you remember hating that day because you had to wear an uncomfortable dress and tights.

“i don’t know how i’m ever gonna leave this place,” you voice aloud to him, one of the many concerns that muddled your mind when you started deciding on college or jobs or moving in with your perfect boyfriend of almost a year.

“it’s the last thing i have of them. i don’t... i don’t know if i’d be ever to leave this place, mingi.”

not after what happened last time.

not wanting to leave the house you grew up in to strangers who would create more happy memories and replace the ones you made with your own parents.

his face contorts into one of sympathy and pain, his heart breaking as the obvious guilt and dread is in your eyes.

he’d always seen a bit of torment behind them but you were always able to smile.

laugh with him and tease him and push whatever demons he knew you had aside; but he started seeing it again when he mentioned moving in, fear and anxiety and discomfort that he hated to even see behind your eyes.

“i don’t know how that will effect us, it’s something i’ve thought about a lot recently,” you confess quietly, playing with the edge of the blanket nervously. “especially when you mentioned us moving in together. i... i want to, so bad, because i love you and i think it’d be fun. but... i can’t leave.”

your tears start up again and a frown crosses mingi’s face, his body hovering over yours as he takes your face in his big hands.

he wipes at the tears threatening to slide down your cheeks before placing his lips on your head, breathing slowly and calmly against you as his warm breath wafts over you.

“baby, i understand completely, i really do,” he says, everything making sense now but... “but i don’t think your parents would want you to... limit your life like this.”

because you obviously had an interest in seeing the world. you obviously wanted to see different places and cultures and sights in the world that even your precious little town doesn’t hold.

but he can see tonight isn’t the night you’re gonna see that, if the way you shake your head and bury yourself back in his chest doesn’t show that.

and because he loved you more than anything else in the world, he understood it. held you and kissed you and made sure you knew he’d be by your side in whatever way you needed.

it was with his patience and love and unconditional support that you were able to live with him. keep your parents house as a sense of security but slowly move yourself out of it.

leaving a toothbrush at the apartment, a few sets of clothes, some shampoos and soaps until one night, you were waking up and falling asleep with him every morning and night.

present day:

the fight that ended you and mingi was over a trip to disney.

something meant to be so childish and fun and innocent morphing into a blowout, gut-wrenching fight that left the two of distraught.

hit both of you with the realization that whatever you once had had fizzled out and turned so horribly toxic, you were both losing yourselves.

it had started with yunho, san and wooyoung planning the trip, mingi over their house one day after the tension in the apartment got too much. he had scoffed when san mentioned it at first, wondering what business they had as college going twenty-somethings booking a trip to disney.

“it’ll be sweet!” san said, “we could go to the parks for a few days, everyone loves roller coasters! and then we can drive down to the beach, go surfing and go to bars and shit. it’d be so much fun, guys.”

and the more all of them thought about it, the more excited they got. looking at flights and car rentals and getting all their swim suits in order - that was until mingi came back home a day later and informed you of these plans.

“me and the guys were talking about booking a trip to disney,” was the first thing he said to you. not a hello or how are you or sorry for leaving and making you worry for a week.

“oh?” you hummed quietly, looking up from your spot at the kitchen sink; you’d made breakfast for two just in case he came home early but it was another serving of eggs and bacon in the trash.

“yeah, so is that something you’d wanna do?”

there’s something off about his tone that you immediately pick up on. snippy and on edge and defensive, like he’s already fully prepared to break out into a fight.

because he already knows you won’t do it. you won’t leave the 70 mile radius you’ve trapped yourself nor will you even try to go out of your comfort zone for him and you or anyone else.

and quite frankly, he’s grown really fucking sick of it. call him selfish or call him someone looking out for you, someone who knows this type of living isn’t normal, he can’t deal with it anymore.

“i... well i mean...how would we get there? and when?”

“we were looking at flights three weeks from now,” he says, carefully observing your face with slightly cold eyes. carefully waiting for the next hint of a breakdown he’s not gonna properly respond to.

you bite the inside of your cheek as panic starts to stir in your chest.

you haven’t been anywhere since the accident. you’ve gotten yourself so used to this environment that going anywhere else seems terrifying.

but you’ve seen how bad things will happen when you try to venture out. you left to do the same and it cost your parents your life - who’s to say you wouldn’t get your karma soon?

leave mingi without a girlfriend he doesn’t even care about anymore or your grandparents without a granddaughter you can’t help but feel they blame for their child’s death.

tears are quick to prick your eyes as you try to push down all of these feelings, looking down at the floor in a move mingi already knows is dismissive.

you hear him scoff and it sends a flurry of emotions through you, not even needing to lift your head to know he’s shaking his head.

“figures,” he hums lowly, making extra noise as he puts down his bag or plops down on the dining room chair. “i don’t know why i bothered asking.”

“mingi...” you begin breathlessly, guilt and shame and sorrow filling you.

“no, y/n.”

his voice is firm and hard and makes you meet his gaze, the look he’s throwing you icy and completely empty. he’s done and you’re done and there’s basically a ticking time bomb between you two.

“you didn’t even let me give you an answer.”

“because i know what it’s gonna be!” he roars, feeling stupid for getting excited when he knew damn well you wouldn’t be able to leave. “i know you’re gonna make up some bullshit excuse about school or work or money and you’re gonna say no.”

you can’t say anything because you know he’s right. but what he doesn’t know is that you’re trying. you try every day and every week and every month to push yourself out of your comfort zone and it just doesn’t work.

you’ve tried going away with him and you’ve tried expanding your horizons - you’e even moved out of your parents house to live with him. but it’s hard when you’re constantly reminded by the fact that your decisions ended a life.

while it was technically the drunk driver’s fault, your survivors guilt heavily outweighs that. intrusive thought after intrusive thought until you start to question why you’re even still here, too.

“i’m trying, mingi,” you say, your voice shaky and defeated. “i’m trying but you don’t even see that.”

“how are you trying?” he asks, watching your dejected form a few feet away from him. “you haven’t done anything different since you moved in with me. we’ve been living the same life for the past two years, y/n.”

but you just remember how patient he was when you first tried moving in. how he was so patient and kind and gentle and was everything you needed him to be.

but he can just remember how much he loved you. how patient and understanding he was, not fully grasping the severity of what happened to you and how incapable he was of dealing with it.

“i’m... so fucking sick of it. i’ve grown to be so sick of you and i hate that, y/n. i hate feeling like this but it’s the truth.”

“and you don’t think i am?” you blurt out, the dam of tears breaking as you hear him say those specific words to you - i’ve grown to be so sick of you.

your frame is smaller and fragile and you’re like a shell of the person you were when you first met as you make your way up to him, looking over him with all the pain and exhaustion in your eyes.

“you don’t think i’m sick of feeling this way? of seeing how much you obviously hate me and are over this when i can’t stop feeling this way? because i’m sorry it’s been inconveniencing you, mingi, but it’s been ruining me, too. sometimes i can’t even believe i’m still here.”

the last part of your sentence stirs something in him but he can only focus on your broken state. watching as you grow weaker and weaker because of him.

“you haven’t even been helping me,” you suddenly say, words quiet and soft-spoke but filled with an obvious hurt. “i... i don’t know why you’d even wanna go on a trip with me because we’d just fight, mingi. we’d just fight and i’d cry and you’d leave me. th-that’s what we keep doing.”

tears burn the back of his eyes, a knot growing in his stomach so big it feels like he’s about to puke.

“because i don’t know what to do anymore, y/n,” he say, his voice less harsh but still holding a certain degree of bite. “i tried so hard with you and nothing seems to work. i loved you, i still love you, and i was there for you and i tried so hard with you but... i don’t know how to help you.”

“you think yelling is the way? or leaving me is the way?” you laugh out manically, tears rolling down your face that you desperately try to reach out and wipe. “you’re sick of me but i’m sick of you, too. i’m sick of feeling this way and i’m so fucking sick of thinking you still love me.”

“you don’t think i love you?” he asks, rising from his chair and making his way over to you.

his looming height should make you nervous, the way he’s looking down at you and threatening to trap you against the counter should make you nervous, but it doesn’t.

because coming to terms with this right here is the worst part. the conversation you’ve been avoiding for months and the obvious change in what you two have become.

“i don’t,” you say, finally meeting his gaze and seeing hurt and anger swirl behind them. they used to hold such a sweet softness that would sometimes make you feel better, even if just for a little bit.

“because even if you do, you’re still sick of me, right?”

one year ago:

“what if you get sick of me?”

the newest compromise had been his family coming here to meet you.

you and mingi had booked refundable tickets for a week in his hometown, a part of you wanting to desperately prove you could do something for him. something that would make him happy and maybe prove you love him a little more than you can convey.

but the second you got on the highway to the airport, you knew you weren’t gonna be able to.

memories played through your mind of you in the backseat of your parents car, laughing and talking with them as you promised to be careful and take a lot of pictures with them.

hearing them tell you they loved you and were so happy you were able to go after all.

and then you’d looked to the other side and see in your mind a car hitting the other. spinning out and smacking into the divider as an eruption of fire, car parts and the chaotic screeching of breaks echoed through the air.

mingi had to pull over to calm you down, bring you back to the real world in the form of hugging you close to his body and his hand running through your hair.

“i’m- i’m sorry, mingi, i’m sorry, i-”

“sh, you don’t have to apologize, baby, there’s nothing to apologize for,” he hums against your head, pulling you over the console to rock you gently in his lap.

he was warm and broad and soft spoken and everything about him made you feel safe. you couldn’t grasp at the time how or why he was so understanding and sweet but you didn’t even wanna question it.

because he was the one thing in your life that made you feel okay. that you had him and he had you and there was nothing that could be that bad if you had each other still.

he didn’t let go of your hand once as pulled onto the highway, got off the exit and made his way back home.

he guided you back into the apartment and told you to go lay down and that he’d be there in a second.

he cancelled the flight and called his mom, telling her you guys got rained out and that, if it was okay, he’d pay for them to fly out here next week.

the bed dips a few moments later, broad strong arms wrapping around your waist before you’re pulled into his chest.

it was after a few silent minutes stretched between you two, the calming rise and fall of his chest against your back, your small voice pierced the air.

“i’m sorry, mingi.”

he could tell you were gonna cry before you even started, turning you in his arms as he pulled you closer to him.

“baby, i already told you you don’t have to-”

“but i do,” you cut him off, lower lip trembling and stomach knotting guiltily.

“i... i don’t think this is normal, mingi. i should be able to move on with my life and travel somewhere. i wanted to go so badly and meet your mom but i-” your voice breaks as tears fill your eyes and you try to catch the breath threatening to suffocate you.

“i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever,” you say quietly, looking up and meeting his soft, sweet gaze. “i’m scared i’m gonna be like this forever and you’re gonna become tired of it.”

“baby... that’s never gonna happen,” he assures you, voice gentle but firm as he runs his fingers through your hair.

“and you’re not gonna be like this forever. we can get you help. and i can help you,” he says, his eyes looking into yours with such a raw honesty and love. “i... don’t really know how but i’ll do whatever it takes.”

“what if it’s not enough?” you ask, because at the time it’s like you knew just how bad this was gonna get. that even with as low as you felt then, it wasn’t even rock bottom.

“what if you get sick of me?”

“i won’t,” he reassures, pressing a long, lingering kiss to your head before settling you onto his chest carefully. “that’ll never happen because i love you, y/n. and i always will.”

present day:

in a turn of events, you were the one who left after that.

came right to the place you first met, except now the lake isn’t frozen over and the late-afternoon sun had just set.

his words were too harsh and reminded you too much of his broken promises.

you felt too weak and pathetic and completely hopeless, the tense silence so horribly loud between you two you left without a word; and he hadn’t said anything either.

and now, as you sit at the spot you’ve always come to and found solace in, you can feel why he was always so hurt when you didn’t ask him to stay. because even though you were fighting and even though you both hurt each other, you wanted him to ask you to stay.

to please not go because that would’ve been the last possible way for you both to see there was something still there - even though it’s plain to see there isn’t.

too many fights and too many words have been said. too many lapses of silence and too many unspoken thoughts that now when uttered are just hurting both of you.

you’re both too hurt and you both have too many things to sort through that you can’t do together.

one second you were staring down at the lake, your own broken reflection staring back as your feet hung in the water, and the next you couldn’t see. tears flooded your vision and sobs wracked through your body, loud, ugly, horrific sobs that you’ve been holding back for far too long.

you cry because you know it’s over with him, you know it’s been over for a while, but now it all feels real.

you cry because you know you need some help to get past all of the guilt you feel, how if you don’t get help, you’re never gonna leave this town and see what else is out there.

you cry because you don’t even know where to start and know, even though it hurts, you have to do it alone.

you’re so lost in your thoughts and the way your cries echo through the yard that you don’t hear footsteps approach you.

you don’t even know anyone’s behind you until someone bends down and pulls you into their broad, warm chest. a chest you know far too well and a body that hasn’t held you like this in what feels like forever.

he knew you’d be here and he couldn’t stop his legs from jumping in the car and coming to see you after you left. half because he knew this had to happen and half because he was far too scared for you to be out here like this.

he knew what conversation was gonna follow but he knew had to hold you one last time. he missed holding you and he missed wiping your tears away.

“i don’t know what happened to us, mingi,” you whimper into his chest, the tears that have been building behind his eyes finally coming to the surface.

he doesn’t know what happened either. he doesn’t know when or where you guys went wrong or when you stopped talking to each other. he doesn’t know when he stopped loving you in such a way that was all consuming, where he knew he’d do anything and everything for you.

“i don’t... i don’t think this is working. i don’t know what to do but i know i can’t do this anymore.”

“i don’t know what happened either, baby,” he mumbles against your head, his words wobbly and wet as he tightens his hold on you. it feels as if every part of is heart is breaking, for the way he’s neglected you and the way your crying against him.

“i’m sorry i can’t help you. i wanted to so fucking badly but now... i just, i can’t, baby.”

you cry harder as you shake your head against him, feeling him plop down and pull you into his arms tighter.

it feels every bit as heartbreaking and upsetting as you both knew it’d be. it’s probably why you guys put it off for so long. because even though you feel the love you used to feel, you both know nothing will change.

he’ll resent you and you’ll resent him right back.

he’ll say he stayed for you and tried to help you and you’ll say you never asked him to do any of it.

you both sit there and cry and hold each other until the sky falls dark and air turns crisp, the moon reflecting off the lake in a way that hasn’t changed in two years.

but everything’s changed between you both and it’s too heartbreakingly obvious.

“i’ll miss you,” you mumbled to him.

because you know he’s gonna go on and do all the great things he’s wanted to. move out of this town and pursue whatever dreams he put off for you, the girl he once loved more than anything.

“i love you,” he confesses quietly against your head. “i really really did love you.”

because he knows he still does, he knows he always will, but it’s not something either of you can bear to hear right now.

you both have said what the other needed to hear and when you guys part tonight, maybe you’ll finally start feeling better. fix yourselves and the damage you’ve caused each other and maybe reunite when the universe deems it right.

two and a half years later:

it had always been your dream to see the northern lights.

something about them had always fascinated you, how they almost didn’t see real or were just a figment of fake editing that would only ever be seen in photos.

but you had an overwhelming need to see them before your very eyes. see the sight before you and marvel in just how truly fascinating and beautiful it was.

so that’s exactly what you did.

you wrote down a list of all the places you wanted to see: the egyptian pyramids, the great wall of china, the taj mahal, the eiffel tower, all of the sights that you knew in order to see, you’d have to leave the perfect little town you loved so much.

it took a lot of attempts, a lot of tears and anxiety and frantic calls to your therapist, but finally, you were able to do it.

it was the third to last place on your 6-month journey around the world, jet lag getting to you immensely but an extremely fulfilling pride and excitement within you.

you were able to do it. see the sights and meet hundreds of different people and experience all the things you convinced yourself you didn’t need or want.

and you didn’t have a single regret until this very moment.

because the rookie mistake you made within this amazing, journey of self-discovery around the world was not investing in a parka.

the biting temperatures of alaska were surely getting to you right now, your glove covered hands over your ears as you trekked through the snow with other groups of (properly dressed) tourists during the aurora season.

you found yourself in a snowy, freezing field, tall evergreen trees above your heads as you waited patiently for the sky to change perfectly, a buzzing excitement and low chatter from the people around you.

footsteps crunching on snow filled your ears from every direction, your eyes on the trees and large sky above you. a harsh gust of wind whipped past you and you let out a tiny squeal, your hands shooting up to your red, wind-burnt face.

you could hear a quiet, low chuckle beside you, something about the strangely familiar sound sending a whoosh of butterflies through your stomach. you didn’t understand them at that moment, ignoring your bodies odd reaction and keeping your eyes focused on the sky.

it took hearing his voice, the same one you’d fallen in love with in your own backyard, for your eyes widen and quickly look over the snowy vast of land surrounding you.

mingi stepped in front of you, eyes full of amusement and pride and even disbelief, looking over your face with the same type of a fascination he had when he first met you.

“aren’t you cold?”

inspired by: line without a hook by ricky montgomery, ty tiktok

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @chrryhwa @baekhvuns @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @toffee-hwa @hyunjeansuniverse @cherryeonii

#so aha.... not the dystopian au #but i was inspired by a song in the car and this happened <3 #mingi #mingi angst #mingi fluff #ateez #ateez angst #ateez fluff #mingi scenarios #mingi imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

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achliegh · 3 years

Text

Golden

(Sorry if this Chapter is lack luster :/ )

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Ladies Love Country Boys

Bonfire Playlist: Spotify, Youtube

Watching Airplanes

Chapter 2:

Cowboy Sweet Ass sent you a Location

New Message from Cowboy Sweet Ass

See you there ;)

Finn was nervous, he wasn’t gonna lie, Logan and Him are leaving tomorrow for Gryff and this is the last night they can see Leo. Who, neither of them will admit this, has kindly wiggled his way into their brains for every minute of everyday. Sometimes to break a long silence between the two of them they will talk about Leo. How they were going to cope when they can’t see him again is unknown and something he didn’t want to think about.

They hadn’t actually seen Leo in the past five days, with their training schedule and Leo helping set up a charity arena for the thing they were supposed to meet him at tonight, it was just late night calls that were still kinda awkward at times. But always had them smiling as they fell asleep.

Walking up the dirt path, where the uber had dropped them off, Logan and Finn weren’t sure they were in the right place until they saw the huge crowd gathered around a tall metal fence with bleachers and an announcers corner that's up on a hydraulic lift, speakers set up so people can hear the quick talking of the men commenting on whatever was happening.

Horses and people on them were everywhere. This causes Logan a lot of stress, as someone who is terrified of horses… This is not ideal. Especially when one is trotting toward them at a scary fast speed.

Finn recognized Clayton immediately, trotting over at a leisurely pace on a cool looking horse he waves. He notices Logan hiding himself completely behind Finn’s back. Finn held his hand out for Logan to take and squeeze if everything got too much for him. Logan wasn’t good in big crowds.

“Well look who it is!” Clayton hops off his living vehicle and patting her neck. “Let me introduce you to my babe, This” He gestures towards the mare, “Is Leroy, she is a Blanket Appaloosa! Have you guys met Peanut yet? He’s chilling with Eloise, Leo’s mom, you better hope he likes you or else… yeah, or else.” Clay flashes them his slightly crooked but stupidly white smile as he absentmindedly pets Leroy’s neck.

Feeling a squeeze of his hand he looks back to see an absolutely terrified Logan, not knowing about his fear of horses Finn is just confused. So, he goes into a ‘ get Logan alone’ mind set.

“We will find you in a minute, we’re gonna explore!” Finn smiles back and Clayton nods as he swings his leg back over Leroy and clicks his tongue so she struts back towards the group of other yeehaws on their own horses, they all had numbers pinned to their backs which was weird but Finn guessed Leo would explain later. Claytons was CR243, and it looked like it was about to fall off. He notices how someone would go in real fast and then come out after a minute or two. The announcer talked too fast for him to catch.

Leading Logan to a more open area he turns to face him and raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, what's wrong?”

“Ummmm, J'ai peur des chevaux….” Logan isn’t looking him in the eyes and has an embarrassed flush to his face. Finn, having no clue what he said, gently grabs his chin to make him look at him, Lo hasn’t run his finger through his hair yet so that means he isn’t nervous around Finn at least. Fixing Logan with a slightly irritated but still worried look, Logan sighs and tries to say something but instead what comes out is a terrified yelp as something takes his hat off his head and pulls some of his hair at the same time, then drops it at his feet.

Whipping around and jumping into Finn’s arms bridal style Logan shrieks as he is met with a blonde horse that almost looks smug. The little splotchy white stripes on its snoot may make it look kinda cute but Logan knows what can happen if you get on a horse's bad side. It happened to Sydney, he didn’t need it to happen to him too.

“Peanut!” A very tall and beautiful older woman walks over to them laughing a little, she has a hearing aid in her left ear and soft blue eyes bright with amusement stare them down. “Sorry Y’all, he likes to find new people to mess with.” She smiles and there is just something so familiar about those deep dimples and sharp cheekbones. She is wearing tight jeans with knee high army green cowboy boots, a white button up with a black cowboy hat contrasting the golden curls falling out from under it. She is wearing a sash with the words ‘Miss Louisiana 1971’ the wrinkles on her face didn’t make her look old and crinkly like people like to think, but more like a gracefully aging woman. She holds her hand out to Finn for him to shake, Logan is still in his arms so it is as much of an invitation to him as Finn. “I’m Eloise, this is my son’s horse.” She looks them up and down after shaking both their hands. “He would like you two.” She smiles one last time, giving them a giant wink and leads Peanut away from them back to the bullpens where they spot Leo sitting on the top of a fence talking to a couple of people.

Finn looks at Logan and sets him down.

“So.. horses?”

“Shut up”

“You go for a cowboy and are afraid of horses!” Finn is bent over laughing and clutching his stomach while Logan crosses his arms and looks around annoyed after he dusted off his hat and put it back on his head.

“What’s so funny?” they look over to see Leo in full get up. Smiling bright, showing off his chipped tooth. His hair was flattened by a black sturdy cowboy hat, his blue button up vibrant under his black vest. The vest had a couple of logos stitched into it for Absolut Vodka, Mt. Dew, and Ariat…. Leo was sponsored? He was also wearing some jeans that fit him just right around his booty that they could see through his assless black chaps that had iridescent tassels on them, with his black boots and belt to match. His silver buckle stood out with the light reflecting off it.

“Wow… you look great.” Logan just melts into Leo’s side when Leo wraps an arm around his shoulders. “But tell Finn to stop being a jerk.” Logan put on his best pout when looking up at the taller man, who looked at him with a look that made his heart feel like it was about to jump out of his chest. It didn’t alarm him though, it was nice to feel like this. But it can’t last forever.

“What's he doing that's so mean.” Leo turns his attention to Finn who is smiling at them like he's watching two kittens cuddle into each other. His eyes bright with happiness, his smiles wide.

“He’s making fun of me because I’m scared of horses.” Logan wraps his arms around Leo’s waist and squishes his cheek into his chest to look as cute as possible, so Leo will be on his side. Which… fails.

“You’re afraid of horses!” Leo hugs Logan as he starts laughing, smacking a kiss on the top of Logan’s annoyed forehead and squeezes him. “You’re so cute.” Suddenly they hear numbers coming over other speakers and Leo perks up. “Oh I’m up soon! I hope y’all are gonna stay and watch because I would love to take you to the bonfire tonight.” He pulls Finn into the embrace and gives them both a quick peck on the lips, smiling when they chase his lips. “There should be an open spot in the bleachers or, you could watch from Peanut.”

“Bleachers!” Logan gets out of Leo’s arms and starts pulling both the boys towards the crowd without horses. Leo helps them find a spot next to some girls who flirt with Leo but he has no fucking clue. He is just focused on getting Finn and Logan a good spot.

“Alright, my number is BR11710, so when you hear that you’ll know I’m up! I think Clay might come and find you, he had a good run earlier wrangling those troublemaking claves, so keep an eye out for him.” He smiles and climbs down the bleachers gracefully until the last small step where his spur gets caught and he has to yank it out of the cevous it got stuck in. Looking back up at Finn and Logan his cheeks were red as he shrugged and sauntered off towards the chutes.

“Hola losers!” Clayton plops down above with and slaps a hand on their shoulders. “Excited to see him ride? Or have you already? Actually I would know because we overshare way too much.” Smiling, Clayton is covered in dirt and his cowboy hat has been traded out for a ball cap and his button up taken off to be just a white tank top. A tall pale girl sat down with Clayton and was scrolling on her phone looking uninterested. Clayton sits up and wraps an arm around her waist. “Oh this is Ashley, my girlfriend.” She looks up and gives them an irritated wave before going back to her phone.

“Ride? What’s he doing?” Finn looks at him confused after sharing a look with Logan about the irritated girlfriend, then they hear the announcers call Leo's number.

“Alrighty ladies and gentlefolk! We have something special for y’all! One of our very own PBR riders is here to ride the roughest toughest bull of the day! Ole Forty Days!” The crowd cheers as a confused Finn and Logan look at Clayton who whoops and hollers for his bestie. Whistling with his thumb and forefinger in his mouth.

“Alright Jimmy lets get in some commentary before the ride starts, Leo Knut is a 19 year old Professional Bull Rider, his Mother is Eloise Knut also known as Miss Rodeo of 1970 and Miss Louisiana of 1971. His father was Wyatt Knut, Air Force Veteran who was also Leo’s biggest role model.”

“Was?” Logan whispers and gives a sad look to Finn who is busy watching Leo, he is on this tank of an animal, large, white, horns the size of his whole forearm. Leo was adjusting the way he is sitting and has an underside grip on the rope around the bull, wrapping it around his palm to make sure there isn’t a tether that can be stepped on and yank him off.

“Ole Forty Days is the only PBR bull here today, worth millions he is undefeated 32-0 in his career this year. Will Leo who is 30-2 this year be able to stay on those eight seconds.”

Leo hits the challenge button and the gate flies open, Ole Forte days is wild! Finn is automatically on his feet as he watches Leo with his hand up in the air, eyes hard from focusing and counting in his head. Forte turns a 45 degree buck and just about tosses Leo but his grip is so tight that he lasts those eight seconds. The announcers went crazy the entire time.

As he dismounts the still bucking bull his wrist gets caught in the rope he was holding earlier because of the way his glove is falling apart. The rodeo clowns distract the bull fast enough for Leo to get himself detached, falling on the ground. The bull tosses Leo onto the ground and just misses stomping on his ankles. Leo hops onto the fence, the adrenaline is pumping through his veins and his eyes are bright as he searches for the boys in the stand watching him with fear etched into their faces. When his eyes met Logan’s the fear turned into relief and Leo felt the adrenaline making his heart beat even faster.

After Forte is corralled back into the pen to have the rope around his hips removed Leo jumps off the fence and takes his hat off bowing to the crowd, and they love it, whistling and whoops are heard. He points to Finn, Logan and Clayton. Clayton is so excited and starts dragging the other two down the bleachers leaving Ashley behind. Leo doesn’t like her at all so it's fine. Leo turns around and walks towards sports medicine and lets them take a look at his wrist. As his adrenaline starts to fade away the tweak in his wrist starts to bother him as the medic wraps it up.

“You just ruined Forte’s career!” Clay hugs him from the side and picks him up all excited, his girlfriend who decided to join looks at them unapprovingly. Finn and Logan basically tackle Leo to the ground once Clay puts him down. One on each side of him, balanced.

“Are you insane! That could have killed you!” Finn is shaking a laughing Leo by his collar as Logan examines the way his wrist is wrapped.

“I know, I technically wrecked at the end but I still got my eight seconds!” He smiles and takes his hand from Logan, cupping his cheek and rubbing his thumb over the soft skin.

“You never told us you rode bulls! Leo, a little heads up would have been appreciated!” Logan whacks him on the back of the head after they stand up.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. How can I make it up to you?” Leo puts an arm around them and kisses their temples. They had an idea. Where to do it was the question.

The rodeo ended not long after Leo’s ride, the charities the winners chose would be given a five thousand dollar check courtesy of the Knut’s. After Leo was done taking down the arena, a large pile of wood was set up with large equipment. Leo pulled a Clayton and took off his chaps, vest, button down, and hat off so he was wearing a white shirt and a ball cap.

Leo made up for scaring Finn and Logan by pulling them into the back seat of his truck. Leo sitting in the middle of the seat with Finn straddling one leg, hunched over and sucking on Leo’s neck. Logan straddled Leo’s other leg and kissed him with a ferocity that made them both groan. Leo rested his hands in Finn’s hair and on Logan’s hip. Pulling away Leo turns his head to face Finn, guiding him from his neck to lips. He feels Logan push his hand underneath his shirt and smirks into his kiss with Finn. Moving his hands to squeeze both of their asses, causing Logan’s breath to hitch and Finn to moan. He is about to suggest something spicy when a knock on the window alerts them that the party has started.

Why does Clay always have to stick to his word? Leo asked him to let them know when it was time to move his truck to have the tailgate facing the fire, and now was that time. Leo’s head thumps back onto the seat as he lets out an annoyed sigh.

“Well, I guess we have a party to attend… I’m gonna get so drunk.” He smiles and gives his boys one last kiss before he ushers them out of the truck so he can get out of the backseat to move it.

Finn wanders over to Clayton who has Ashley under his arm, she is tall and very skinny. Her long brown hair was in a French braid, she was wearing short shorts, boots and a crop top. He has a very sour look on her face as Finn walks over to them. Logan on the other hand, goes to take a piss in the porta potty. Something he is not fond of doing.

Leo moves his truck and gets out to put the tailgate down so people can sit on it, climbing into the bed of the truck he opens the cooler in the back and takes out two budlights, Leo doesn't really care for budlight but they need to be drunk.

“CLAYTON!” He shouts as the three walk over to the truck, chucking the beer at his friend; they both take out their keys, puncturing the cans and shotgunning the beers.

A few hours and a lot of drinks later Leo was singing to Finn, standing between his legs as Finn sat on the tailgate next to Logan who was filming.

“You can train 'em, You can try to teach 'em right from wrong. But it's still gonna turn 'em on!” Finn can’t help but laugh and wrap his arms around Leo’s necklaces he sang, every once in while facing Logan's phone and singing into the camera as he filmed. Taking a drink of his beer he smacks a sloppy kiss on Finn's cheek and skips away to Clayton to dance like idiots as Luke Bryan sang about shaking it for birds and bees.

The two drunken best friends wrap and arm around each other hips with their drinks in the other hand, putting left side to right side they swing back and forth to the beat as they scream out the music.

Later on Leo picks Logan up so his arms are around his neck and his legs are around his waist and spins around while humming to a song about wheels and Finn looks so smitten that clayton takes a picture to show him and laughs as he send it to Leo, who has managed to misplace his phone… for the millionth time.

Setting Logan down he wraps his arms around the shorter man's shoulders and rests his chin on top of his head as he bounces to the beat. Logan leans his forehead to rest on Leo’s chest and uses his hand that isn’t holding his water to loop his finger into one of Leo’s belt loops he wishes he could take a screenshot in his brain.

Hours passed, singing and horrible dancing, more drinking for Clay and Leo until it sounded like a good idea to see who could crush a folding table by jumping off Clayton’s truck. Finn managed to lead them away before they actually tried it by telling them’ Leo could def dance better than Clayton’. Which turned into the worst dance battle ever seen. Two drunk teenagers and country music make for terrible dancing but a lot of laughs. Eventually, the fire dies down, the drinks run out and the boys get tired. Finn wrangles Leo into the back seat of the truck after lifting the tailgate, moving to go to the drivers seat because Logan might be to short to drive and they are to dumb to figure out how to move the seats, Leo latches onto him and pulls him into the backseat with him.

“Hey! How do you expect me to drive back here!” Finn pokes Leo’s nose and Leo catches his finger in his mouth biting him. Finn squawks and pulls his finger away. Looking at Leo offended, laughing a little as Leo is looking at him with this tiny smirk. “That was rude.” Leo narrows his eyes playfully and flips them so Finn is laying on his back with Leo snuggling into his chest.

Logan gets in on the passenger side and looks up to see Finn in the back seat being snuggled by an oddly cat like Leo who is rubbing his face on Finn’s soft t shirt, when his eyes meet Logans he blushes so vibrantly pink and has the shyest smiles as he hides his face in Finn’s chest again. Logan looks at Finn who looks like he's dying from cuteness overload. Logan moves over to the driver's seat and sits all the way on the edge of the seat to be able to touch the petals. Logan doesn’t have a clue where Leo lives… but he does remember how to get back to the hotel.

Trying to get a clingy 6’3” cowboy into a hotel room while he is intoxicated is a lot easier than you would think. He was tired, stripping down the second they walk into the door he lands on the bed in his boxer briefs and spoons Logan and grips Finn’s arm as he falls asleep.

They all slept incredibly well that night, warm, close, and together.

The next morning was the morning The Lions leave to go back to Gryffindor. Leo was up before the other two, showered and dressed when he woke them up with peppering kisses all over their faces.

“Good morning, Honey Bees. Y’all need to get up and get ready to leave, you go home today.” Leo runs his hand through Finn’s hair as he greets them with a sad smile. He doesn’t want them to leave, but he knows that this isn’t some fairytale where two princes will give up their dreams to be with him. That’s not what he wants anyway. The other two finally get up, Finn goes to shower as Logan changes and packs his bag. Glancing at Leo every once in a while, like he wants to say something.

“Leo, what are you still doing here?” Logan drops his bag by the door and turns around to face the taller man, crossing his arms and giving Leo a cold look. Leo is a little taken back by this, Logan has never looked at him like that, and he wasn’t expecting it from how nice yesterday was.

“I was to see you two off… is that okay?” Leo starts to feel uncomfortable under the harsh eyes he found so pretty, he starts picking at the wrap around his wrist, breaking eye contact with Logan as a sinking feeling seeps into his chest. He never expected anything to actually come from this but he ached for it.

He knows where this is going.

“I don’t know what you think is going to happen after we leave, but we aren’t going to be fawning over you when we are busy with our own careers. You are just… a guy who we had a fling with. Finn and I aren’t even together so don’t expect anything.” Logan's voice stayed low in volume but echoed in Leo’s ears.

“I wasn’t expecting anything. I just wanted to see you guys leave, say goodbye, maybe…” Leo didn’t finish his sentence when he looked up at an annoyed and frustrated Logan. “What did I do?” He hears the bathroom door open and Finn walks into the room whistling in fresh clothes as he dries his hair with a towel.

“You don’t mean anything to us Leo'' Finn hears Logan and knows exactly what’s going on, Logan has done this to him many times. This is Logan’s way of cutting off something he wants in a way he knows won't bring the person back, even though he always feels horrible eventually. Finn has been a victim of Logan’s lashing out many times, and he hasn’t left, because he loves Logan. He really really likes Leo, he gives his heart a similar jolt that Logan does. From what they have discussed, Logan felt the same. Logan doesn’t allow himself the luxury of feeling like this though.

Leo looks absolutely shattered after Logan’s words sank in. He looks over to Finn who looks like he’s in his own head, then back to Logan. “I really really like you guys-”

“Stop being a fucking child Leo! This isn’t something we can continue after we leave, we would get torn to shreds by the league! Not everything is about you and we don’t want you! So just go back to your fucking farm and forget us.” Logan grabs his bag and walks out the door slamming it shut, going to be the first one on the bus that just pulled up to take the team to the airport.

Leo stares at where Logan was when red catches his eye, Finn stops and gives Leo a sad smile, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. Finn then turns his back to Leo and follows Logan out the door. Leaving Leo alone in the hotel room… He reaches in his pocket and pulls out the hotel keycard, standing up he goes to leave it on the table of the room, he stops just before he sets the key down.

He takes the card and walks out of the room, Climbing into his truck that was horribly parked, he finds his phone on the floor of the passenger side. Picking up his phone, he calls up the only person he knows who would be willing to hang out even if he was sick from last night.

“Clay? Can you meet me somewhere?”

A half hour and some McDonald's hash browns later. Clayton and Leo were sitting on top of Leo’s truck hood watching the airplanes take off, sipping on soda they got with their food. They watched in a comfortable silence as planes brought people in and took people away.

Logan and Finn were on one of those.

#leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #james potter #thomas walker #Clayton Bruss #o'knutzy #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast

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the-silentium · 3 years

Text

Bloodhound

Masterlist - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 5172 words

Warnings: Blood, gore, curse, monsters, ANGST.

A/N: Yessss two chaps in two days!! Thanks to every single one of you who left comments and kuddos on the previous chap. You're all awesome 💜

**Also! Words in bold are words said in French, which means the clones can't understand it. I stopped writing the French in actual French for you guys, it'll be more useful in the future.**

Taglist: @haloangel391 / @lightning-wolffe / @cherrydemon5 / @and-claudia / @clone-rambles / @mandaloriandin / @lackofhonor / @gaymasonjar

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//25 minutes earlier//

"That's not him! Guys!" You yelled in the comlink you fished in your pocket in a haste, almost making yourself trip when you pulled on the fabric of your pants at the same time.

The gap separating you from them was increasing more and more with each step they took. Damn their long legs and commando training, you weren't made to chase this kind of prey!

"I know his voice Y/N! That's him!" Wrecker was too damn sure of himself, his confidence affecting his brothers' judgment as well.

It didn't take long for rule number one to be thrown overboard and surprisingly it wasn't by the one you expected, no offense Techie.

"Stay under the trees!"

This couldn't be happening. They were all running headfirst to their deaths. According to the lore, Venustes didn't affect more than one person at a time. You couldn't know for sure if the lore was reliable or if the other three were following out of concern for the fake 99, but they had to snap out of their own mind trap soon or else they would all be dragged down.

"H-" A clawed hand appeared inches from your face, cutting short your attempt to call out for your sergeant.

Instinctively, you threw your body to the ground to avoid getting grabbed by the head and ultimately being crushed like a berry in its grasp and crawled to continue running. Alas, the Algax wasn't as dumb as you thought, his other hand swiftly reached forward to stab your right thigh with one of its fingers, preventing you from escaping.

Your screams of pain were muffled by the hand pinning your face to the dirt, waiting before your lungs were empty of any air to lace its long sharp digits around your torso. The feeling barely registered through the thick fog of pain coming from your thigh.

Your first instinct was to yell at the top of your lungs for help, maybe your distress would get them out of their haze, saving their lives as well as yours, but you quickly found out that your lungs were empty and unable to expand to receive more oxygen.

The lack of air in your system mixed with the agonizing pain from the retreating talon in your thigh almost knocked you unconscious. You could feel your blood escaping your wound to drip down your legs and nourish the ground under your suspended form.

It leaned closer, a low crackling sound escaped the slits on its temples. With considerable efforts, your good leg moved up to push against its torso to keep its horrifying face away from yours, the up-close view causing more tears to gather in your eyes.

Fear and the lack of oxygen quickly took over your body in the form of violent shivers shooking your whole frame. The building pressure encompassing you once more was excruciating, your bow laid on the ground out of reach while your arms were pinned down along your sides, keeping you from stabbing your way out of the situation.

All you could do was scream in your head out of pain and fear, waiting until your bones gave up under the tightening grasp to pierce your organs and kill you slowly. The boys seemed way too entranced to come to your aid, leaving you to feel as miserable as when you were hunting for the village, without back up and entirely alone. If you were lucky, you'd die alone without another beast feasting on your still alive-but-unable-to-move self. This would be a nice death, as horrible as it sounded.

You hoped the boys would survive though. Even if they apparently totally forgot that you were there. Not that this came to you as a surprise. People who gravitate around you for some time always tend to go away on their own, leaving you behind just like the clones. But you couldn't hate them for it, your heart already knew it was coming and had prepared itself for this right moment.

After all, they had to lie to their chain of command and train a primitive idiot how to fly a ship, they were trapped on this infernal planet once again because you nearly died and they hadn't seen the Shinehorn sneaking its way into their ship, being too busy fussing over your comatose self. Oh and let's not forget that you ended an innocent's life right in front of them without warning. It was only a matter of time before they left.

Plus, if they were so desperate to meet this 99, it surely meant that he was highly special to them whereas you were the newbie, so no you weren't mad. You merely wished you had someone who could make you forget everything around like this 99. It seemed nice to have someone that important.

And finally, if you died maybe you would find a way to come back to haunt them. This could be fun, you could mess with Crosshair's rifle, disturb Tech while he was tweaking with his prototypes, pushing Wrecker around to your liking because he couldn't possibly defend himself against you anymore and most important of all, you could mess with Hunter by constantly untying his goddamn bandana. It would drive them all mad, you knew it.

After some thoughts, you knew they would make it off this planet alive. Together they had a good chance. Hunter's acute senses along with their brains and elite commando training gave them an advantage the natives never had. Hopefully, they would stay in these parts of the jungle until daylight, where they knew how to deal with the monsters living around.

Yeah... Good luck guys.

Eyes closed, you waited for the inevitable snaps of your bones. It resonated between the trees, sickening and disgusting you to the core, but you weren't flooded under any more pain than the one radiating from your thigh. Instead, you felt nauseous for a whole second when you were once again thrown away, landing on the ground harshly.

Your body rolled on the dirt, bouncing a couple of times under the force of impact. For as far as you remembered there wasn't a single time in your life when you've been thrown around as much as tonight. This was getting tiring and it’s been dark for only a bit more than two hours. Lucky you.

Still laying on your back, you breathed erratically to provide the much-needed oxygen to your organs, watching upside down the Algax receiving a second arrow to the head, effectively scaring it away.

A hunter. You were saved. You were fine.

Huffing, your body went limp at the lack of imminent danger and talons menacing your life. Maybe you could rest-

"Shit. She's really alive?" A hunter you recognized as Farlan walked out of the shadows to slowly approach your form like you were a trapped animal.

"So it's true then. It's your fault they're back." Another Hunter spat, literally, missing your face by an inch. Kerth never liked you, obviously.

You would have liked to say that those were the hunters you desperately wanted to come and rescue you, but then it would be a lie. None of them appreciated your presence even slightly so they all meant the same thing. This will be a drag.

"Now, who's back? And why is it always my fault?" You pushed on your forearm to sit straight, grunting at the pain in your right leg.

Shit. The hole left by the talon wasn't big, approximately two inches wide, but it was bleeding profusely. It was sickening to be able to see the ground through your flesh so you opted to keep pressure on the wound with your hands, camouflaging the hole like it wasn't even there. If only the pain could disappear as easily...

"The nightmares. They're back because you're still alive." Kerth pulled a piece of gauze from a pocket on his belt, the sight of the medical supply pulled a relieved sigh out of you.

Wait what?

"So the council wants a word." He said with so much venom that your heart skipped a beat. This wasn't good. At. All.

Before you could react, the gauze found its way in your mouth, quickly followed by an irritating rope that despite your weak thrashing around got attached behind your head.

You were brutally pushed onto your belly, hands pulled behind your back to be attached tightly with skillful fingers. A muffled scream escaped your mouth when a knee pressed onto your wounded thigh, tears joining your blood on the dirt.

"Because of you, I've lost friends tonight. I'll make sure to pay you a visit once the council is done with your stupid ass." He growled in your ear.

Oh, you were so dead. Your bet was on the council, but if by some miracle they weren't the one to put an end to your life, then Kerth was the next bet. Maybe you shouldn't have sabotaged his weapons the day of the hunt competition. Or put some poison ivy in his hunting clothes. Or laugh whole-heartedly when he got shit on by a Furant during his ceremonial speech in front of the whole village. Or… one of the numerous pranks you pulled on him for payback of his daily shitty attitude towards you.

Farlan was the one to pull you up and push you forward, leaving the job to spot the monsters to Kerth. The thought of running or fighting was completely futile. You wouldn't run very far with your untreated leg, there was the possibility that they would shoot you down out of spite too. They seemed very fed up at you for some reason. How could you be the cause of the nightmares reappearing? Also, they were gone? Since when?!

This was getting weirder and weirder.

_________________

//Present - 10:48 pm//

"I got her position. She's close” The corners of Wrecker’s lips lifted slightly. They could track you, everything would be fine from here. You weren’t lost. “and unmoving." The whispered last words rang loud and clear in all the clones' ears.

Wrecker's breath wasn't the only one to abruptly stop.

The smile quickly left his face, as well as a majority of his blood. You couldn’t be dead. This couldn’t be happening.

“Where?” Hunter’s hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly around his blaster,

“700 meters that way.” He pointed deeper into the jungle, where they all came from.

A weight fell on his stomach and he had to force a deep breath in. You hadn’t made it out of the jungle with them. They had outrun you and left you behind on your own.

Without a word Hunter took the lead, Tech following right behind with Crosshair on his heels. Wrecker took a single second to gulp down his guilt and shake his arms lightly to regain feeling in his body and not worsen his wounds. He followed silently behind the group, squinting attentively to discern the shadows with his half working equipment.

“300 meters.”

You were resourceful. You knew your planet like the back of your hand. There was no way you were dead.

“100.”

Please 99. Don’t let her be dead.

Crosshair stumbled on Tech as the brown-haired clone abruptly stopped, looking around like he was searching for something. With a step forward, Tech crouched to grab a small object on the ground to show it to the rest of them.

“Kriff!” Hunter punched a nearby tree, exhausted by this succession of ill-fated events. There in Tech’s hand was your comlink, their only way of locating you on this living prison that was this planet.

Wrecker held onto the last hope he had. There wasn’t any blood, you could still be fine. Maybe you’d dropped your comlink while running away.

“Hunter.” Crosshair’s voice was unsettling. His usual dry snarky self was replaced by a more small and scared tone that the soldier hadn’t heard in a while. “That’s a lot of blood.”

And it was. The puddle was big enough and it looked like you'd struggled quite a bit in it too.

The world was spinning. He knew battalions lost men every time they went out on missions. It was a common occurrence for soldiers to die and the remaining ones had to suck it up ad continue the fight. But Wrecker wasn’t used to this. From the very beginning, they were the four of them, surviving each mission thrown their way to fight another day. He never got attached to anyone out of his Batch but you and losing his first comrade in the field hit him hard.

Sure, the death of 99 left him in crumbles but with you it was different. He was supposed to have your back just like you had his. You saved his life and he didn’t save yours.

As his eyes fell to the ground in shame, he noticed a small object at the tip of his boot.

“Tech.” He called, as he raised back up with your earbud in hand.

“So we can’t contact her, she can’t contact us, she’s unarmed and wounded.” Crosshair resumed the situation, your bloody bow, and quiver in hand. "If she's not dead, she'll be soon."

"There's no way she'd run deeper into the jungle wounded and without her bow. It's suicide." Hunter tore his gaze from the large puddle at his feet to follow sparse dark spots staining the grass to their right. "It could be a new critter that doesn't kill right away or she found someone or something else to protect her."

So there was a possibility that you weren't dead. Wrecker felt relieved that his brother came to that conclusion, his own mind was working in slow motion, too distressed at his feelings to allow him to concentrate and think.

"Whatever it is, we'll find her."

Even if the words weren't meant to reassure him, Wrecker felt more at ease knowing that they had a way to track you and that you were possibly safe with someone or something. All he hoped now was that you were alive long enough for them to find you and that ultimately, you'd forgive him.

Wrecker rushed behind his brothers who followed the trail, jogging at a steady rhythm, slow enough to be able to detect the monsters that might target them but fast enough that they would catch up to you at some point.

It didn't take long for the first Algax to cut their road, the shy creature poking its terrifying head from behind a large trunk as soon as it heard them approach.

Wrecker tensed, already gripping the handle of his blaster with his left hand despite the knowledge that his weapon was useless against them. Having his blaster in hand, even if it wasn't the right one, gave him a sense of security.

The dark blue creature didn't have time to lift its hand to reach for them that an arrow flew right into the trunk next to its head. The beast hissed, its long fingers hitting the arrow in anger before moving out of its hiding spot to engage the group.

"Damn thing." Crosshair growled, at the bow in his hand or at the beast, Wrecker didn't know. All he knew was that he almost cheered when his brother managed to scare the beast away with two arrows piercing its chest.

"Nice work." Tech approved, light sticks in hand instead of his blasters.

"You were right. It is primitive." Crosshair growled, following Hunter who resumed the tracking of your blood on the ground.

"I'm always right." He chirped, eyes scanning the shadows.

"Debatable." His brother scoffed back.

"Wrecker." Hunter called from the front, eyes quickly darting forward when he caught his brother's eyes. "Let your blaster. Take your blade."

"Okay." Against his best instinct, the clone let go of his DC-17, letting it fall on the jungle floor to grab his vibroblade in a firm grip. The blade felt weird in his left hand but it would do. Knives worked on those things, he was still safe.

The surroundings were calm for a while, and the more time they spent no crossing path with any monster, the more the tension built between them. Apprehension kept them on their toes, eating away at their nerves slowly.

The next Algax they encountered stood tall in their way like he was challenging them to jump at it. Maybe they were used to being at the top of the food chain, just like the clones were used to being at the top of their game. Regrettably, the clones were in way over their head on this planet but they would make sure that they weren't the only ones.

Instead of slowing down, Hunter charged at the Algax, stopping only when the sharp metal of his vibroblade was deeply set into the monster's chest.

Wrecker waited for a screech, for the creature to start thrashing around or flee like the one that fell down a tree with you. Seconds passed and the Algax lifted its arms like nothing happened, like there wasn't a long knife jabbed in its thorax and made a move to grab the sergeant who swiftly jumped away, blade still in hand.

"What?!" Hunter exclaimed, facing the creature once again.

An arrow in the head managed to get the desired effect, the tall beast running away in its signature hiss.

"Why didn't it work? Her knife worked on them!" Hunter was getting more and more on edge.

"Maybe it could be because our technology is too advanced or because our equipment is not native." Tech remarked. "It is logical in a sense. This planet created its own rules to protect itself from invaders, so it may have created a sort of protection against anything exterior to its own resources."

"It is possible?" Wrecker found it quite hard to believe. A planet controlling what could kill or not? Blasters could kill anything!

"The planet changes beliefs in the real thing. Yeah I think it's possible." He deadpanned with an eye roll.

Suddenly, the vibroblade in Wrecker's hand didn't provide the same sense of security as before. All their hope resided in Crosshair and Tech's hands. 7 arrows and 3 light sticks. Talk about limited resources. If only he had his backpack containing all his explosives, he could get something done.

Too deep in thought, Wrecker didn't notice the wall of dirt right in front of them until he almost rammed into it. They were back to their landmark.

"We missed each other." Hunter growled in frustration at the sight of the blood splatters leaving the safety of the trees to disappear under the waterfall.

Wrecker understood immediately, his own frustration building in his chest. They entered the jungle and you got out of it. Maker knew Wrecker was used to bad timing but this was a new low. Fate was laughing right in their faces.

Cautiously, they left the dense vegetation to venture into the open area where Wrecker almost became bird food. His eyes were fixed in the open sky, some stars were visible through the small clouds. The bright moon wasn't at its highest yet, Wrecker estimated that there was another hour before the satellite reached its peak.

The provided light allowed him to relax the muscles around his eyes. He hasn't been squinting for long that the beginning of a headache started to form in his skull.

As they neared the wet dirt, three sets of footprints were easily distinguishable in the wet dirt. The spacing told them that none of you were running. If nothing was chasing you, then why weren't you patched up?

"We have to find her quick." Crosshair spat what every brother thought quietly.

If you were with people that didn't patch you up and had plenty of time to do so then they weren't on your side. Even without medical supplies, they should have been able to stop the bleeding one way or the other.

"Stay close." Hunter called, venturing closer to the waterfall where your blood disappeared.

With each step forward, the sound of the waterfall hitting the river below became more and more deafening. The sound was assaulting his ears to a point where he almost ripped his helmet off to cover his ears. He managed to hold on, focussing instead on his leader who clearly had more problems than him.

Hunter had removed his own helmet to pass it on to Tech in hope of covering some of the uproars with his hands. The relief must not have been enough for his arms began to shake, his hands pushing firmly against the sides of his head.

If only he could reach for his brother and take some of his pain, Wrecker would do it in a heartbeat.

"Let's make this quick." Crosshair took the front, his steps taking him behind the waterfall where a tin border of rocks formed a path to the other side.

Tech nodded his head towards Hunter, his hands already full with the sticks and the extra helmet.

"Got him." Wrecker confirmed. His left hand reached for his brother's pauldron right after sheathing his blade.

With practiced movements, Wrecker bent to carefully set his pain down, now wasn't the time to listen to his body.

With slow steps the tank walked on the wet trail of rocks behind the roaring wall of water, his arm tightening slightly around the body on his shoulder. If Hunter reacted Wrecker couldn't hear it.

The rocks were flat enough that he didn't slip once. The problem appeared on the other side, where the blood trail ended abruptly a couple of feet away from the bank.

"Where to now?" Wrecker asked, still supporting his limp brother.

"No fucking idea." Crosshair grumbled, visor moving from right to left where the jungle extended as far as his eyes could see in both directions.

Hunter's feet returned to the ground when soft pats disturbed the tall clone carrying him, his hands were at his sides, fingers clenched into fists as he grounded himself through deep breaths.

"Are you okay?" Wrecker dared to ask, his worry for his family finally escaping him.

Hunter usually took more time to recover from an overwhelming episode like this one and it was apparent that he still needed time, but he opened his eyes nonetheless, ignoring Wrecker's question to grip onto Tech for support and deeply breathe in, brows furrowed in concentration.

His head turned in a different direction as the three remaining clones scrutinized the line of trees for signs of a threat.

"It's faint." Hunter whispered, still deep within himself. "Blood. That way." He pointed at their right before reaching for his helmet in the engineer's hands.

"You're good to walk?" Tech questioned, watching his C.O. warily. His hands lifted slightly in apprehension that Hunter may faint under the pressure he was forcing on his body.

"Yes." It was weak but firm, leaving no place for discussion, not that either of them would have said anything. They knew what you meant to the sergeant so it was better for their sakes to not put themselves between you and him.

Back in position, clone force 99 advanced through the trees, their pace building at each passing second. They were almost running when finally they stopped, their boots almost slipping under them in a sticky substance.

"Karkin' fuck." Hunter cursed, his hands tightening around his vibroblade, eyes glued to the corpse lying at their feet.

"That was you smelled?" Crosshair pushed the eviscerated loth wolf with the tip of his foot.

"Ye-"

Screams resonated in the distance, cutting Hunter off. Wrecker's heartbeat loudly in his ears, almost covering the yells of pain under its incessant percussion against his ribcage.

Every single one of the soldiers breathed out in relief at the lack of a female scream. However, they tensed in apprehension as the screams faded and howls filled the air in their place. A new beast was around and they didn't have any idea of how to react to it. Run? Hide? Would the knife work this time? Or the bow?

"There were two distinct voices. Males." Tech stopped his recon of the surroundings to catch his batch's eyes. "Maybe it's them."

"Worth a shot." Hunter nodded, already moving in the direction of the screams, although this time he kept a slower pace, fully conscious that they were in unknown territory, charging at unknown beasts.

The screams weren't too far, but they obviously came from the opposite direction Hunter initially pointed them to. Hopefully, they would find you there, wounded but alive, and he wouldn't beat himself too much for his mistake.

Despite knowing that they were useless, Wrecker retrieved his vibroblade from its sheath. The need for a weapon in his hand was too great to ignore, every cell of his being felt the danger ahead and wanted to be prepared although he could never really be prepared for anything this planet threw at him.

He cringed every time a twig broke under his boots, the soft sound resonating in his own ears like the grenades he liked to throw on the battlefield, resonating into the silent jungle to scream their position at anything that dared to listen. Maybe it was paranoïa slowly creeping its way into his brain, using the aftereffect of the corrupted hallucinations he suffered to play around with his senses.

Just like right now, the more he concentrated to decipher the shadows with his half working helmet, the more strange the forms became. At first, it was spots from his constant squinting, then he saw small blue lights on the horizon, dancing haphazardly around. After a couple of blinks, the pale lights disappeared as fast as they arrived, leading the bald clone to shrug them off as his eyes playing tricks on him. The constant stress was definitely getting a toll on him, and let’s not talk about the two dives into a strong current. Once this night was over and they get back at the Marauder, he’ll sleep for two weeks straight.

Softs whines could be heard over unnerving growls and occasional barks, quickly catching the group’s attention.

“Blood.” Hunter informed them over comm, his whisper almost blending with the rustles of leaves in front of them.

The group halted in their tracks as Hunter raised his fist, Crosshair already had the bow cranked, ready to shoot at whatever alerted their leader. Carefully peeking over Tech’s shoulder, Wrecker craned his neck to the side to see what was happening around the boulder they used as cover.

He could see the posterior of a large animal, jerking successively like it was pulling at something. Disturbing yelps filled the air and the animal fell backward with its prize tightly encased between its teeth. It rolled near their position but was too preoccupied with the bloody arm in its possession to detect the clones observing it.

Wrecker knew Tech was recording, there was no way he wasn’t. Not when the monster before them had no skin whatsoever to cover its bones. The canine-like monstrosity easily reached Tech’s waist, had no external skin, leaving its bones to shine under the green tint of their night vision, muscles were observable between the ribs and along the joints, but that was it. No skin.

"If only we could capture one." He muttered to which Hunter answered with a glare under his helmet.

As it ate, Tech’s appreciative whispers filled the comm, muttering about the extra smaller ribs that circled the abdomen of the monster, keeping its intestines from falling all over the ground and marveling about the movement of each muscle, totally bare for his curious eyes to see and analyze at will.

"Fine fine. We won't be getting one of those perfect study specimens." He grumbled, reporting his gaze to the organism that crunched the humerus with only moderate difficulty. "Fascinating."

"No, it's not." Crosshair elbowed Hunter who redirected his gaze to a hollow tree where a figure was shivering, hidden in the darkness.

"That's her." He confirmed, the sniper's impeccable sight was not to be doubted.

"Why aren't they attacking her?" Wrecker questioned, puzzled.

Two other beasts were walking only steps away from your poor hiding spot, ignoring you totally despite acknowledging your presence with occasional glances towards you.

"I have some theories but they are all shots in the dark." Tech answered when he realized that they were all waiting for his highlights.

"That's just perfect." Crosshair growled.

The tall clone counted 4 of them, walking between two bodies to tear at the flesh and stain their white skulls with fresh blood.

He wondered if his brute strength would be enough to smash their bones if needed when he noticed you slowly standing up, hands behind your body to steady yourself against the trunk.

"Maybe she could come here instead of us going there." Wrecker pointed out. If only he could catch your attention without catching theirs. "Tech. Do you still have your laser?"

The toy they kept around to annoy Crosshair whenever he was too relaxed on leave could be more useful than its original purpose.

Wrecker was amazed at how unafraid of the canines you were, standing next to one of them to pull at the bow on one of the beheaded corpses with your foot.

"Good idea." Tech walked to the other side of the rock where he could have a clear view of your limping form, slowly making your way toward one of the dead bodies.

"She's tied up." Remarked Hunter, his voice merely above a whisper but frightening nonetheless. Your aggressors should be glad that the dogs got them first.

Crosshair had the creature in his aim, an arrow already pointed at its head if it dared to make a move in your direction.

At one point the bow got stuck, the snapping mouth of the monster next to you was deeply buried into the open chest of what once was a man, blocking your progression toward the shoulders.

Wrecker's breath blocked in his throat and Crosshair cursed under his breath as they saw you tentatively poke the skull of the monster with a very shaky foot before almost falling on your ass with a muffled yelp at how quickly you moved it back when the big bony dog jerked its head up to look at you.

Your wide eyes stared back at it until it lost interest and moved further down the body to nib at some abdominal organs. Quickly you pulled out the bow with your foot, head tilted down to your chest to look at your work.

Tech used this moment to point the red laser at your chest, immediately catching your attention by moving it from side to side. Wrecker grinned as your head lifted in their direction, eyes wide in surprise. You spotted them in seconds, maybe because Wrecker was waving.

Words were muffled by the rope around your mouth, but the wild shaking of your head was clear. Even with only a half functioning helmet, Wrecker could read the fear in your gaze.

Tech couldn't close the light fast enough. One skull turned at the source of the small brightness. As soon as it spotted them, earsplitting yaps covered the snarls of the feasting animals, catching the pack’s attention simultaneously. Soon 4 pairs of predatory red eyes stared at them, their maws chattering in anticipation.

#bad batch x reader #wrecker x reader #tech x reader #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #clone force 99 #star wars #clone wars

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 23

First time reader click here

TW/Summary: brucetony x reader PRON. You have finally reached the point where there is real ✨spice✨. Also, m/m kissing. There will be mild m/m action from now on in the fic. I cannot stay away from the gay and I refuse to apologize. Brucetony nation how we feelin'?

I padded quietly behind the glass divider, stripping off my lab coat and protective glasses to deposit them on the nearest flat surface. My joints popped as I stretched.

Bruce and I spent a lot of time in the lab together lately as Tony and Pete worked together on the kid's Spider Suit, something that was a tad above my level of understanding. I was much better with chemicals and cell division than I was with thermonuclear physics, me and Pete were two sides of the same coin. It was only recently that I had noticed exactly how much our respective science fields of choice complemented each other and it was a blessing that Tony and Bruce made us a little corner in their respective labs, a few square feet where I and Pete could literally do anything we wanted to.

A year ago, I would have said that science is a hobby of mine and not something I wanted to do full time. I was fully prepared to commit to medical or law school, to grow into a prestigious career that would multiply my wealth and acquire me friends in high places. My parents certainly expected me to continue cultivating the image of our family empire.

I wasn't so sure anymore. Tony and Bruce were so fucking happy in their little worlds, getting lost in their labs for days on end, creating, reinventing the world every single day. There weren't any words meaningful enough to describe how it made me feel, seeing my two men just vibing in their element. It seemed glaringly stupid the most famous thing they were for was the superhero side-gig they had, they were so much more than cannon fodder planet Earth considered them to be.

At some point during the night, Tony called for Bruce to assist him with a new feature on his suit, a kind of a very condensed, targeted explosive. These days Tony didn't hold back from discussing Stark trade secrets around me anymore, so I sent Bruce on his merry way and finished his tasks for him, carefully replicating his style of taking notes and observing the reactions. As usual, Friday ran most of the calculations so my brain wasn't muddled too much by annoying math. Out of four of us, Peter was the only crazy person to actually like doing the math - the spider bite must've screwed with his brains, I guess.

I would've been content to just hang back and observe the men thinking, but Bruce took notice of me hovering by the exit. The scientist froze and just looked back at me for a minute, eyes round and soft. I missed the exact moment my mouth curved into a warm smile and the time Bruce's goofy grin made an appearance.

"You done, Princess?" He asked, gesturing to his lab.

I nodded, padding over to him, easily settling into the warmth of his open arms. Tony smiled at me briefly, distracted by the equations on the holo-screens, reaching over to peck me on the cheek, not minding Bruce at all. Strangely enough, both men fit around me so easily, so naturally, I wondered if they'd planned this... Relationship. What were the chances of such a perfect fit for three people? Meanwhile, Bruce's other arm wrapped around Tony's shoulders and the engineer willingly fell into the embrace beside me.

"Keep it PG," Peter mumbled, eyeing the same equations with an annoyed stupor. Tony hummed, poking at the screen a bit.

"It's 2:30 AM, guys," I said, casting a glance at Pete who stubbornly rubbed his eyes but continued thinking so damn loudly. I could practically hear the sound of his brain overheating. "Spiders need sleep too," I reached over to poke Pete's arm.

"Shit, kid," Tony switched to concerned dad mode almost instantly, rubbing his face. "Go to bed. We'll finish tomorrow."

"I almost have it figured out," Peter refused to budge, frowning.

"I am one text away from Spidermom at all times," I threatened him, giggling, referring to Natasha's murder glare all of them were going to be subjected to should she find out Pete skipped on sleep in favor of science. Nat had some strong opinions regarding a healthy lifestyle for one Peter Parker.

"Spidermom," Pete scoffed but stood up nonetheless, blearily blinking his shiny eyes in the fluorescent lights of Tony's lab. "That makes you either my Spider-aunt or Spider-sibling," He sleepily made his way to hug me, embracing all three of us in the process. Peter's coordination was far from stellar when he was tired.

"I'm not one of the Spider Gang. I'm the..." I trailed off, unsure. Where exactly did I fit in? "I'm the human embodiment of Florida, a freeloader hippy aunt that shows up randomly with pot brownies. That, yes," My own brain was tired and not making much sense either.

Tony snorted. "Hot hippy aunt," His hand made way to my butt, giving it a discreet grope.

"It's not easy being the family disappointment but yet, here I am," I quoted a meme, high-fiving Peter on his way out. "So, Irondad confirmed," I raised an eyebrow at Tony who rolled his eyes, pulling me against his chest once the door behind Pete closed.

Bruce sighed, removing his glasses and letting them dangle freely around his neck, pushing them up against my back as he hugged me from behind, securely pressing me in between him and Tony. My body began to respond, a warm sensation spreading through my limbs and culminating at the side of my neck where Bruce pressed feather-light kisses along my jugular and up towards my ear.

Tony's lips captured my own, dry and chapped, moving lazily as if all three of us had all the time in the world. His calloused hand stroked my face, occasionally dipping to rake through Bruce's curls. The scientist himself was stroking my skin, hands slowly but surely making their way under the hem of Stephen's hoodie, tracing my hipbones. I couldn't resist doing the same to Tony, palming his back and sneaking a handful of his ass, making him chuckle into the kiss.

"Mind the goods," The engineer teased, parting briefly to chuck off his shirt carelessly. His jeans, belt-less, hung low on his hips, the prominent V looking as delicious as the most gourmet chocolate cake. My eyes followed the happy trail on their own accord, hands reaching out to pull him back towards me. Tony happily obliged, watching Bruce unzip my hoodie with sparkling eyes.

"I can't help myself. Why man have round butt if not for squish?" I squinted at him playfully, shrugging off the sleeves and relishing in the feeling of Bruce, shirtless and warm, resting his head on my shoulder.

"I have to agree," The scientist chuckled thoughtfully, both of us smirking at Tony who smoldered in response, all but bursting with smugness. "Bed?" Bruce inquired.

"Lab sex," Tony replied gleefully, steering us towards the bigger, sturdier tables in the back. Because, at the end of the day, Tony was Tony.

Bruce looked at me questioningly. I shrugged. "Lab sex," Before turning over and kissing him, faster and harder than last time. It was familiar and easy, the flow we had was amazing and it never once crossed my mind to be ashamed or apprehensive in the presence of my two men.

The chemistry between us three was intoxicating: they kept throwing small, appreciative glances at each other. Tony's eyes lingered on Bruce's strong arms, the scientist eyeing the engineer's chest and lips in turn.

My bra and panties were disposed of quickly, flying over our heads together with Tony's jeans; I palmed the visible erection while gasping into his mouth, licking my way into it lustfully. Bruce groaned behind me, my feverish kisses still fresh on his own lips, grinding into my ass with controlled movements. I couldn't resist moving with him, arching my back into his touch. The fingers along my spine left shockwaves in their wake.

Following the directions of my arms, Tony hopped onto the table, invitingly spreading his legs. My mouth watered - his thighs were absolutely fucking massive and kept me up at night more times than I'd cared to count. I wanted to bury my face in them, so bad.

"How do you wanna do this?" Bruce asked from behind me, having made quick work of the remainder of his clothes.

The warmth of his cock rubbed against my thighs. "God gave me three holes for a reason," I sassed, swallowing a moan. My next attempt at the very same thing wasn't as successful: Tony gasped at my words, something quiet and lewd, taking hold of my hair like he knew I loved, and steered my face in the direction of his cock. I mouthed at the wet spot on his boxers obediently, pushing my ass back towards the already naked scientist. Bruce was anything if not practical in disposing of his clothes.

He was not in a rush. Damn him, damn his self-control and damn both these sexy-ass, big-brained dorks. They wound me up so well with just a few gentle touches and words, doing nothing but mirroring each other's smug smirks over the top of my head. In a rush to enact some revenge, because I was a spiteful little shit, my fingers hastily peeled off Tony's boxers and went straight for the thing I knew made his eyes roll into the back of his skull.

"Fuck," As I predicted, Tony's eyes fluttered shut as he cursed and I made my way down his length, taking as much as I could of it in my mouth without warm-up. Tony's cock was absolutely delicious, thick and flushed.

Bruce hummed, running his fingers down the cleft of my ass and feeling at the dampness collected at my core, hot and sticky arousal that had me rubbing back onto his digits, needy. Two of his fingers slipped in with ease as he worked me open for his thick cock - Bruce knew how to take care of me, he felt the little spasms of my cunt as it greedily accepted the intrusion. "So good, baby girl," He cooed. I could feel the burn of his stare on my head as I bobbed it up and down on Tony's cock at a moderate pace.

There was no rush. Just three people enjoying themselves. Tony leaned back, on one hand, using the other to keep my hair out of my face, arc reactor illuminating the trio of us, giving his pleasure-filled face an ethereal tint. It became that much more surreal when his eyes met Bruce's: the sparkles only grew in quantity.

My moan, as Bruce slid inside of me with one smooth thrust, made Tony's thighs tense up and quiver. I was loud, always so, so the more Bruce rutted into me, the more desperate and breathy Tony became, feeling the vibrations around his cock, his hips meeting my mouth half-way. As soon as clever fingers touched my clit, I was done for, spasming around both men.

"Fuck, that's so good," Tony slurred, tightening his hold on me to the point of his knuckles turning white.

Bruce quickened, ever so responsive little groans leaving his mouth. "Hear that, Princess? Tony loves it," He purred encouragingly, making me grip Tony's thighs in desperation. The rumbly tone of Bruce's voice, coarse and rushed, was making me feel hotter than before; Tony groaned too, evidently having had the very same conclusion. Both men resonated each other's lust like an echo chamber, back and forth, until a cacophony of lewd grunts and moans was all that made sense. I was stuck in the middle of our combined longing, full and full.

My brain retreated, uncharacteristically quiet, leaving just the bare naked need to feel. So I did, I basked in the shared waves of bliss that didn't seem to end. I felt Tony fall first: the sound made it's way out of his chest, long and low, as he spilled in my mouth, twitching and pulsating, ropes of him coating me from the inside out. I swallowed the salty fluid, immediately placing my cheek atop his thigh to steady myself.

Bruce pounded on me something good, sharp, steady thrusts that made my breasts bounce and my inhales halt intermittently, out of rhythm. My exhaled air burned, the fire of my need all but scorching the soft flesh of Tony's leg.

With every stroke, I could feel another peak approach closer and closer. Tony's hand on my hair tightened, and so must've I - because an unholy growl left Bruce's mouth the very same moment.

"Huh," Tony's smug smirk was heard and not seen. "Princess, be good," He pulled my hair back, lifting my face to meet his eyes.

Words weren't forming for me, at all, so I blankly stared at the man who was positively leering down at me, mouth set in a mocking tilt. I hoped my eyes conveyed the utter devotion I felt towards the two men currently enjoying themselves to the fullest.

Behind me, Bruce growled again. "Don't think she knows how to, Tony," Startling me with the authoritative tone of his voice. I'm sure the man noticed the hot wave that his voice raised within me.

"Brat," Tony mocked, briefly sharing a look with Bruce. The engineer leaned in and carefully wrapped a hand around my throat, an array of stuttered gasps making their way onto his forearm - I saw the way the fine dark hairs stood up. He loved it, he loved my submission and my obedience, and most of all, he loved my unwillingness to go down without a fight.

Bruce crowded in on me, pushing me into a position that bordered on uncomfortable, adding tension to my body, tension that made me oversensitive and needy; hot and cold at the same time, on the brink of release but unable to reach it. Tony was still gripping my throat, firm pressure, as firm as the look he held me down with.

I saw the twitch of his mouth as he moved in to kiss me... And missed, much to my confusion - it lasted for a split second until I realized Tony didn't miss anything, ever. The two moans were a little too soft, a little too symphonic. As soon as my brain caught up with the fact Tony had just kissed Bruce, I was shivering, coming so violently, Tony had to strengthen the hold on me.

Bruce's fingertips dug into my stomach, my hips, his cock nestled so deeply inside of me, I felt every vein as my inner muscles milked him for all he's worth.

"Fuck," He groaned lowly and then he was coming too, one hand splayed across my stomach and the other grasping at Tony's shoulder. The engineer was holding both of us upright from the sheer force of our orgasms. I wasn't the only one who's legs shook.

We panted out our exhaustion, Tony's chuckle breaking the huff-huff-huff interlude. "Great to know that Jolly Green isn't a party crasher," The engineer wrapped his arms around me and Bruce.

"Tony," The scientist groaned.

"You'll be saying that more from now on," Tony saw the opportunity and he took it.

"I'm always down to tag-team Bruce," I couldn't resist adding.

He snorted. "Princess, you literally can't stand right now."

"Give me five minutes, a glass of water and a flat surface," I challenged him, knowing damn well that there would be round two and possibly three if judging only by the fact Tony's hands have had already ventured down to my breasts, palming them idly. "Tony, Bruce has, possibly, one of the most amazing cocks I've ever seen. Not being face to face with it, quite possibly, might be a crime."

Both of my men started laughing, one mortified and the other genuinely amused and I could not have been happier.

"And you've seen how many?" Bruce snarked, leading us to the elevator to go up to Tony's penthouse. The scientist's possessive streak was no joke and I fully expected to be held down and owned and bred in little less than an hour, nothing else in my head but the chase for my and their release.

It was my turn to laugh, equal parts amused and mortified. "Enough."

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