#And this miscommunication is the main reason they fight

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 14: Don't Be A Bundt Cake

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy, Miscommunication Trope

Word Count: 13.1K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Talks of Death, DENIAL, Idiots in Love, Pining by the Reader (and SB, but he won't admit it) Depressing Thoughts, Mentions of sexual assault/rape (not detailed at all, really just in passing) Talks about weed, Sexist comments, Ben makes derogatory comments, Threatening Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: I am so sorry this one took me a bit longer. The writers block was fighting me the whole way, but we are very closely nearing the end of this series and the moment the reader and Ben stop being so stinkin' stubborn.

Reader POV

You lean your forehead against the cool window, watching the world flash by in a flurry of color. The wooded forests had vanished hours ago and all that was left were the yellowed sprawling fields of corn and grain and family farms that were laid sporadically along the interstate. Each one a little world that caught the flecks of golden sunlight as the sun began to peak above the horizon.

The bus rolled smooth and steady over the weathered pavement towards it's destination and was filled with an odd assortment of people young and old. There was man with a brightly colored parrot that had been singing "It's A Small World After All" since you left NYC, a woman with a little boy playing with an iPad and who refused to turn down the volume no matter how many times his mother asked him to, a group of teenagers a few seats up that continued to pass around a flask, and due to how far back you were sitting on the bus an uncomfortable smell emanated from the bathroom each time the door was opened.

But you didn't notice any of it.

The only thing on your mind were the events that happened almost twenty hours ago. They continued to circle your mind, playing over and over again like a perverted cassette tape making you sink further into the worn cloth covered seat at the back of the bus. The images were haunting, some new and some old, but all the more still horrible to re-live.

The song "Nights In White Satin" floating into the backseat of your family's car, the flash of unnatural light you knew was never lightning, the caskets at your parent's funeral covered in flowers that were much to pretty to lay on something so morbid, Elijah's body succumbing to the poppies that ripped him apart, the proud sneer on your brother's face when he admitted to killing your parents, Darren's broken and bloodied body strewn in pieces over the street with the creature standing over him with a dripping red maw, the ruined building that housed "Please Don't Die" reduced to nothing more than rubble, and the look on Ben's face when you turned your back on him and fled the scene.

For some reason that particular image seemed to cling on to you and refused to fade. You'd never seen him look that way, almost… helpless and a little fearful. In all the time you'd known him, Ben had never looked at you that way. Sure you'd seen him proud, angry, cocky, lustful, mischievous, but never fearful. And you were sure that it wasn't an emotion that he was used to feeling, but that begged the question… why?

Why was he looking at me like that? Why wouldn't he let me go? And what was he afraid of?

The creature curled in your lap snorts something in it's sleep, turning it’s head further into the cradle of your elbow to shut out the brilliant early morning sunlight. It was now the size of a toaster and had warranted several odd looks whenever you got off to change buses, but you didn't care.

You weren't sure about anything anymore. Everything your brother confessed to you made you feel like you were living a lie and the revelation of exactly what your powers could do- take life from plants to heal yourself, create whatever the hell it was on your lap, and speak to plants… it scared you.

You thought for so long that you knew everything about your powers, that you were in control, but now you weren't sure.

You felt different, as if something had unlocked deep down that you couldn't shut up again.

You'd felt different after you killed Elijah, but this was more alive, weaving and twisting in the pit of your stomach. You felt more connected to the earth, to the world outside the bus even though you were divided by glass and metal. You could feel the energy that thrummed through the body of the creature on your lap, bending to your will, the life force of the plants it was formed from molding with you, becoming a part of you.

You felt so different than the person you had been before Darren entered the shop, so uncertain, and there was only one place you wanted to be when you felt like this… home. You couldn't wait to run up the worn front steps of your grandmother's house and into her arms. She always knew what to say in times like this.

And you desperately needed the comfort of her embrace.

The phone in your pocket buzzes again and you flip the screen to see the ridiculous selfie Annie and you had taken on Halloween last year. The one that you'd both spent dressed up as the two brothers from your favorite paranormal tv show. It wasn't the first time she'd called. Annie had called and texted you more times than you could count over the past twenty hours but you didn't answer her. You didn’t want to.

It was the first time that you didn't want to talk to her, but talking to her meant that you'd have to re-live all of it again and you were clawing at the last shred of sanity you had left to keep it together.

The overwhelming waves of emotion kept pummeling you, dragging you deeper beneath the white surf. Each one brought the memories of what happened surging over you and were followed by everything that Darren said to you. Years of taking care of Darren and doing whatever he wished were tearing at your soul, years of giving up little things in your life to make him happy, and years of taking care of a man who you thought cared about you, but hated you enough to kill your parents and try to kill you too.

It made your skin crawl. Each time your brother told you that he loved you was an even bigger lie and now that you knew the truth and saw him for what he was, it felt like you were drowning. The darkness that ebbed just on the edge was begging you to leap into the abyss, but you were resisting the best you could.

The tears had stopped falling miles ago, but you couldn't stop the memories or the emotion that formed a cold ball in the pit of your stomach.

A sigh works it's way up and you pull your legs on the seat underneath you, jostling the creature on your lap that raises it's head for a moment to blink it's black eyes at you sleepily.

It was surprisingly docile right now, especially considering that twenty hours ago it had ripped your brother to shreds. In fact it seemed to understand how upset you were and had spent the better part of the last twenty hours rubbing it's head against your arm as if trying to bring you some comfort. It was settled on your lap, the weight of it a comfort, almost like a weighted plushy that gave you something to focus on.

"It's alright buddy." You whisper, scratching him under his chin. "We're almost home."

The phone in your jacket pocket buzzes again, but when you pull it out to turn it off, you catch a glimpse of the screen, and you hesitate. Because this time it's not Annie who's calling, it’s Ben.

The picture that flashes on the screen under the contact name "Gramps" is the picture of Mr. Fredrickson from Up. It always made you smile whenever he called you and you saw the picture because Ben did often remind you of him. He was certainly just as grumpy as Mr. Fredrickson and just as out of touch, but you thought it was cute.

Your thumb hovers over the answer button and you think about talking to him.

But what would I say?

You weren't sure what to say to him, or why you wanted to speak to him so badly, why you wanted him to be sitting here on the bus with you as you went home, and why you wanted him to hold you against his chest while you allowed yourself to break, but you did. You wanted to feel his awkward shoulder pat and his awkward version of hand holding and you wanted to hear him try to tell you to "buck up" or whatever he thought that a comforting word should be.

He's really not the best at that.

You smile to yourself at the memory of how he tried to comfort you back at the hospital, but the longer you sit there and look down at the picture on the screen the worse you feel.

Maybe that scared you more than your newfound powers, how much you were realizing that you needed him, how much you depended on him when things got too much for you to bear. The memory of him appearing as soon as you needed him back at the shop, another of him grabbing Darren and throwing him into the street as soon as Darren insulted you comes in a flash, and finally followed by the memory of Ben carrying you out of Elijah's office while you curled into his chest. You couldn't remember too much from that moment, in fact you'd thought that Ben had kissed you on top of your head, but you ascribed that to the haze of pain you'd been in from your broken arm.

What you did remember was how wonderfully warm he was after you'd been trapped in that damn freezer and how nice it felt to be in his arms. Another memory of Ben sleeping on the couch at the hospital bubbles up and you feel something in your chest begin to crack open. And you try your best to tell yourself the same thing that you always do when you feel like Ben might care more about you that he was letting on.

Ben doesn't want that. He's made it perfectly clear. He doesn't want a relationship. He's only wants one night, that's why he goes out with all those women-

You hesitate, thumb still hovering over the answer button as you do, the memory of the week you'd spent at the apartment with him flickering in the back of your mind. The week where he refused to leave you alone in the apartment, where he refused to do any jobs for Butcher, where he took care of you the best way he could, when he sat with you on the couch and made you laugh with his ridiculous movies, and the week where he hadn't had one date.

Your finger itched to answer the phone, but you couldn't, because you didn't want to feel this way about Ben, not when he'd told you countless times that you kept romanticizing him, not when he told you that he didn't want a relationship, and not when you could feel yourself beginning to fall for someone you thought was the wrong man.

For just a moment you tried to pretend that it was different, that he was different, but you didn't want to. It only made it hurt more.

The phone stops ringing, but the pit in your stomach still gapes open at you and for the first time in twenty hours you feel tears begin to fall. You didn't know why you were crying about this, why the thought of not picking up Ben's phone call seemed to hurt more than everything that had happened, but something made it hurt.

The bus driver announces over the overhead that you're reaching your final destination as he takes the exit for your hometown. The familiar buildings that line the streets are sheathed in a honeyed glow from the sun, the long shadow of the bus darkening them momentarily as it rumbles down the small streets to the bus station.

When it rumbles to a stop at the bus station you wait for everyone else to get off, trying to summon the strength to stand, and swipe the back of your hand across your face to rid yourself of the remaining tears.

The bus station was about a thirty minute walk from your grandmother's house, and you still hadn't called her. You didn't know what to say, didn't know how to tell her that Darren was dead and that he was the reason why your parents were dead.

The creature crawls up your body to drape it's warm body over the back of your neck as you stand. It wasn't bothering to hide, besides the people in your hometown already thought that you were odd because you were a supe and you'd always welcomed it. You give him a scratch on top of his head and his warm tongue flicks on the bottom of your earlobe as if thanking you before it curls further into the side of your neck, seeking warmth.

The first few steps on solid ground are shaky, but you find the strength while taking in a deep cleansing breath of the outside world, letting the gentle warmth of the sun and the tickle of the autumn breeze pull at your coat. You hadn't stopped at your apartment before coming here, instead you had stumbled your way to the bus station covered in dust, flecked in blood, and demanded the first ticket back to Illinois. It was lucky that the next bus was leaving immediately, because you didn’t want to spend another second in NYC, not when all you wanted was to be home.

Plus you were worried that someone had recorded what exactly happened outside the plant shop and you didn't want to get arrested.

It was self defense anyway. Maybe Jake would represent me in court.

The thought of Jake makes you twinge. You hadn't checked to see if he was alright before you ran from the scene. Not to mention you'd destroyed the shop he'd put all his life savings into after he stopped being a lawyer.

Oh fuck, what if he sues me? He can't exactly sue Darren…

You hear someone call your name and you open your eyes.

Your grandmother is standing in front of the same baby blue pickup truck that she'd had longer than you've been alive, wearing a long multicolored skirt and a pressed white blouse tucked elegantly into it. Her silver hair is loose and long, curling over her shoulders in gentle waves. She looks the same way she looked one week ago when she left, and you've never seen anything so beautiful in your life.

You're running before you can stop yourself, crumbling into her warm embrace, with more tears streaking down your face, but she doesn't mind.

"Shh. It's alright honey." She whispers, rubbing her hand over your back, her embrace steady and surprisingly strong. "Let's go home."

Her home is the same as it's always been. A two story Victorian house painted in a happy yellow shade, with a white wrap around porch and two white rocking chairs sitting empty on the front porch. You'd spent more nights than you could count rocking silently beside her with a crochet project in your lap listening to the rain fall and soak the world outside, while the plants sang praises with every gentle bend beneath the heavy droplets.

You could barely remember the home you spent in your early years with your parents, not when you'd spent most of your childhood spending the night here and after your parents died living here permanently. There was still a large oak tree were a wooden swing swung in the slight breeze on the left side of the yard, a gardenia bush that stretched as high as the second story on the right side of the house and brushed it's soft leaves against the sunshine colored outer walls, a garden filled with both flowering plants and herbs that perked up on both sides of the front yard as you walked up the path, and a cobblestone path that Annie and you had spent hours of your shared childhood covering in chalk art.

Neither of you were good, but when the rain would fall and smudge the clean lines, you'd jump in the puddles that pooled along the walkway singing the lyrics to ABBA's "Cassandra" not quite understanding what it meant.

Standing here outside your house made you miss Annie and feel worse about not calling or texting her back, but you didn't feel like talking about what happened and you were sure that Butcher filled her in. The only thing that you wanted was to collapse in your bedroom upstairs and curl under the comforters.

Despite everything the house was a welcome sight, but at the same time it was different. You could feel the plants calling out to you, asking for you, bending towards you just to touch your shoes as you walked by. You'd never felt so connected with them before, not even when you were in your apartment or working at the shop.  It was overwhelming.

And although a part of you was frightened by it, another part of you rejoiced in it. You didn't feel alone, didn't feel weak, and you knew that you never would ever again.

The creature nuzzled into the side of your neck with a sigh, soaking up the sun's healing rays as you walked up the front steps with your grandmother following behind you silently. She hadn't spoken since she picked you up at the bus station and you hadn't supplied anything in the ten minute car ride back to her house.

You didn't know where to start and you were still trying to process everything yourself.

The inside of her house was just as cozy and warm as it was the day you moved out. There were photos of your parents and you covering the walls (Darren's had been placed in the closet long ago), half-finished knitting projects sorted in different baskets on both the dining room table and the living room coffee table, spools of yarn were strewn over the couch sorted by color, and the fresh smell of gardenia wafted through the open windows on the breeze.

It was home. This was what you'd been missing the moment everything began to crash over you, but as you stood there in the familiar living room it felt like something was missing. Something tugged at the back of your mind, but you couldn't put your finger on it.

There was something or rather someone that should be here, but you didn't know what or who. And your mind supplied Annie, but you weren't sure that's who you meant.

"Let's have some tea." Your grandmother says from behind you and you feel her soft hands come down on your shoulders to steer you through the familiar creative chaos and into the large kitchen at the back of the house.

The kitchen isn't spared from the madness, it rarely was. There are boxes upon boxes of cookies in different stages of being packaged all over the counter, dirty bowls and a measuring cup stacked in the sink, and a large opened bag of chocolate chips spilling over the flour covered kitchen island.

It wasn't unusual to find the kitchen or the house in a state of chaos, your grandmother always said that a house should look lived in and that the mess was part of the fun of any major project as long as you were responsible enough to clean it up.

"Bake sale?" You ask as you sit down in the breakfast nook, uttering the first words that you'd said to another human being in twenty hours.

The next breath that you inhale was supposed to be cleansing, but you can still feel a weight pressing down on your chest, the same one that settled in the moment everything happened with Darren.

You contemplate again how you're going to tell her that Darren is dead and was the reason why your parents died.

Damn it Darren.

"Mhmm." She hums, filling the well used red kettle. "Annie's mother practically cornered me in the supermarket yesterday and begged me to make cookies. I love Annie, but her mother needs someone to pull that stick out of her ass. It's been up there for so long that I'm sure it's rotten."

The creature crawls down from your shoulders and down your arm to sniff at one of the chocolate chip cookies nearest you. It hadn't eaten since…

Darren.

You wince slightly at the thought and hope that you hadn't created something that needed and craved human flesh. The last thing you wanted to unleash on the world was Audry two especially in the wake of Homelander.

Truthfully you were waiting for the guilt at killing your brother to come, but it never had and you wondered if it ever would.

Probably not. He deserved that, he killed our parents, he tried to kill me, he tried to kill Ben.

The thought of Ben again makes a lump form in the back of your throat. You didn't know what was happening to you only that you felt guilty for leaving him like that, for yelling at him to let you go, and just vanishing on him when he probably thought that you were going back to the apartment.

He doesn't know where I am. Maybe that's why he tried to call, because he got back to the apartment and couldn't find me there and he was worried. You press your lips together. Yeah. Worried. Right.

"Honey?" Your grandmother says in a soothing voice

You look up from the box of chocolate chip cookies that you didn't remember picking up. Even the creature is looking at you with an expression that you can only explain as worry.

"Yeah?" Your voice shakes slightly.

She's leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, head tilted slightly to the side, her beautiful grayed hair pulled up in an elegant bun, but in her eyes you can see genuine concern. "Fuck." She sighs after a minute.

You blink in surprise. It was the first time that you'd ever heard her say that word in your entire life.

"I shouldn't have left." She breathes. "I told Ben to look out for you. I told him, that little bastard was bound to show up again and what did he do? He left you at that plant shop alone with no protection!"

You'd only seen her really angry a handful of times in your lifetime. Like you, your grandmother often had a gentle disposition and didn't get angry unless the situation called for it.

I mean, Darren admitted to killing our parents and then got fucking ripped apart. But how does she know about any of that? I haven't told her…

"How did you know that he left me there? Did Ben call you?" You ask putting down the box of cookies.

An odd expression crosses her face, as if she's contemplating something. "No." She hesitates again. "I saw it."

"No." Your grandmother hesitates. "I saw it."

"You saw it?" You repeat, confused.

What's going on?

"Too late of course, but I'm a little rusty. I was able to warn Ben that Darren was coming back. That's how he got there so quickly or rather-" She shrugs sheepishly. "He got there in time to make sure that Darren didn't get you to forgive him. Which you shouldn't have at all, but I know he's always had a talent for manipulating you."

"What?"

Is she saying what I think she's saying?

Instead of explaining further your grandmother walks out of the kitchen, leaving the kettle behind on the stove and you in a state of utter confusion.

Is she saying that she can see the future? Because that would mean that she's a supe and there's only one supe in history that I know of that can do that. A supe that no one has seen in over forty years.

You can hear her open the door to the closet under the stairs and the sound of her sifting through all the junk that the two of you had shoved in there over the years instead of finding the right place to put it.

When she comes back into the kitchen, she's holding a giant cardboard file box that you'd never paid attention to each time you opened the closet to find something. Your eyes shift from the box to her still not comprehending exactly what she was saying.

"I probably should have told you this a while ago, but…" She trails off and nods her head at the box before turning back to the kettle on the stove that has begun to scream. "I kept putting it off."

The box is old, worn at the edges, and theres a musty black fabric beneath a collection of yellowed photographs. You pull out the one on top to examine it.

Ben is standing there in his full Soldier Boy regalia outside of Vought tower and the woman standing next to him is Soothsayer. The outfit she wore was familiar, a black-skin tight suit with a blind fold tied over her eyes.

Soothsayer was a supe who could see the future and who was apart of Payback, a supe that had vanished a year before the mission in Nicaragua and no one knew where she went. There were rumors that she'd died and that she'd been a Russian spy, but you'd never believed them. You'd heard Butcher talk about how he tried to find her when he was trying to figure out what happened to Soldier Boy, but he never had. Said that the trail went cold.

But now you knew where she went, because she was standing directly in front of you.

She's Soothsayer? Holy fuck that's why Ben kept accusing her of cheating in the poker game because he knew that she could see the future.

"You were Soothsayer?" You gasp. "But why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me?"

She continues to measure the tea leaves. "I didn't tell anyone."

"Grandpa didn't know? But he was alive when you were a supe?"

Your grandfather had never spoken about a history with supes that you remember.

"No." She turns to look at you, a hurt expression crossing over her face for a minute. "Well, I know that I said I was going to have tea, but if we're going to talk about this I'm going to need something a little bit stronger."

Your grandmother opens a cabinet under the stove an pulls out an enormous bottle of scotch. Truth be told you'd never seen her drink more than just a glass of wine, to see her like this was about as shocking as seeing a polar bear sunning itself on a Florida beach.

"Do you still want the blueberry tea or do you need something a little stronger?" She looks back over her shoulder at you as she pulls down a glass for herself.

"I think I need something stronger." You answer honestly.

Learning about everything Darren had done was one thing, but finding out that your grandmother used to be a famous supe and that she never told you about it was another thing. It was like looking at another person. You'd always loved your grandmother's gentle way, her care for her community and her family soft, but now you weren't sure you really knew who she was.

She sits down across from you and hands you a glass of the amber colored liquid. There's a heavy silence that hangs between the two of you as she tries to find a way to start. The photo of her and Ben is laying on top of what you realize is her uniform inside the box and she smiles down at the photo, just a little twitch at the corner of her lips.

"I met Ben when I was twenty three years old." She begins taking a sip from the glass. "Legend 'discovered' me. I had the injection of Compound V maybe two years before that, not when I was born, but I hadn't gotten popular. Other powers were much more flashy and by then there were so many heroes coming out of the woodwork that someone with the ability to see the future didn't seem as marketable."

There's something reflected in her blue eyes, the same eyes your father had, that you can't place. "I had just moved to New York, I had no money, and the way I was getting it was by pretending to be a fortune teller and betting on some sports events on the side. It wasn't hard to prove that I could see the future, the past was more difficult, but Legend somehow stumbled into my shop and figured out that I was a supe. And he didn't think I was too bad looking so he helped me get big."

"You pretended to be a fortune teller?"

She snorts into her glass. "Mhmm. People really will believe anything if they're desperate enough and back then there was so much turmoil going on with Russia that people were scared and wanted to feel comforted. My job provided some of that."

"But why did you walk away from it if you were such a big hero." You ask. "Everyone knew your name, you were-"

Your grandmother raises an eyebrow at you and you fall silent so she can continue. "When I got onto Payback that's when everything exploded for me, the films, the commercials, the ridiculous ads." She sighs. "That's also when I met Ben."

You take a sip from the glass in front of you, sputtering slightly. It was stronger than you were expecting. "And you two were-"

Please don't say dating, please don't say dating, please don't say…

"Friends. Just friends." Diana sits back against the back of the breakfast nook, sinking into the navy blue pillows. "But he is almost as charming now as he was then."

You cringe at the thought of Ben coming on to a younger version of your grandmother.

She taps her glass with her index finger deep in thought. "But I think that I was the only person that Ben actually talked to, the only person that he was comfortable being around."

"What do you mean?" You ask confused. "Didn't he talk to Countess and to Legend?"

Her expression hardens at the mention of Countess's name. "He didn't talk to her the way he talked to me. Ben is difficult, he always has been and I think that most of the people he meet him write him off as this asshole with a chauvinistic look on the world, but he's not. At least, not all the time. There are so many people that he's met that are never willing to take a chance on him. To trust that there is really something beneath all of that bravado."

It was what you had been thinking for the past week, that there was more to Ben than he was willing to let people see, but you were slowly realizing that Ben was letting you see those parts. In the quiet moments at your shared apartment when he sat with you while you read or made you laugh or walked you to and from work you saw another side of Ben that you never saw when he was around anyone else. The guilt rises again when you think of how you ran from him, how you turned your back and left him standing there to clean up your mess.

I shouldn’t have done that, but it was all just so overwhelming and I didn't want to talk to anyone.

"I think that Ben is the most loyal friend I ever had. No one ever seems to believe me when I say that. That we were just friends, but nothing happened between us."

"You didn't date? Or sleep together?" You ask cautiously. It was difficult to imagine Ben being friends with a woman and not having a sexual relationship with her.

Well. We're friends, but that's different.

The last thing you wanted to think about was Ben and your grandmother having sex.

I would need so much therapy after that. You sigh. Yeah, because after all the shit I've been through and found out about my life in the last twenty hours, the knowledge that Ben fucked my grandmother is what's going to push me over the edge.

"No." She shakes her head with a small smile. "About a week after I met Ben, I was running late to a movie shoot and I stepped off the crosswalk without looking. There was a car coming and I didn't see it. Ironic isn't it?" She laughs at herself. "I can see the future and I didn't see a car coming, but your grandfather did and he grabbed the back of my jacket and yanked me onto the sidewalk, saved my life. And the second my eyes locked with his I saw our future. I saw our wedding, our first house, I saw our son take his first steps and I saw how much I would love him and how much he would love me." She clears her throat for a minute, her fingers tighten on the glass, and her gaze drops to the wedding ring on her left hand. “The future is never set in stone, it’s fluid. It morphs and shapes with your decisions, but in the future I saw, I was so happy. And I didn’t want to lose that.”

Your grandfather had passed a few years ago, but you knew it weighed on her everyday. She had spent the week after he died in her room not saying anything to anyone. And sometimes she'd look out the window into the backyard with an odd expression, but you knew that meant she was thinking of him.

Growing up you'd seen how in love the two of them were, more so than your parents. Seen the flowers your grandfather always brought home just because he was thinking of her, watched him do little things around the house without being asked, saw how they never walked away angry from one another, and seen the soppy expression he'd get when he watched your grandmother move around the kitchen baking with a grace that you'd never possessed.

You reach across the table to touch her hand and she takes it gratefully.

"I didn't want to tell him that I was a supe, and at the beginning I thought I could balance it all, but then Ben started dating Countess." She takes another sip from her glass. "She hated me."

"What? Why?" You ask. The creature crawls across the table to sniff at the glass in front of you, before it snorts and falls into your lap, curling into a ball.

"Countess was a bitch." Your grandmother says mirthlessly, her expression hardening. "She wanted to possess Ben completely. Only loved how famous he was, how popular it made her, and he threw himself at her feet, in his own way, not understanding that love didn’t look that way. He’s never had a good example of it in his life. And she never understood that Ben and I were just friends. By then I had been dating your grandfather for a few months and things were getting serious. It was about a year before everything that happened in Nicaragua."

She presses her lips together as if remembering what happened to Ben there. "She was jealous, possessive, and she came to me one night. Ben was out of town for a film so she knew we wouldn’t be interrupted. She threatened to tell your grandfather who I really was and threatened to kill him.” Her jaw sets. “My powers were never really as offensive as hers were. And she said that Ben wouldn’t ever protect me over her because he loved her and would do anything to make her happy. So I left and I never looked back.”

And here I thought I couldn't hate Countess any more than I did for what she did to Ben.

“You didn’t talk to him ever again?” You wonder out loud.

She left without telling him goodbye?

“There was the occasional phone call. Sometimes Ben would ask me to see who was going to win a ball game or something so he could make a few bucks. He stopped by to say hi a few times because he was in the neighborhood. One time he brought your father a baseball glove that was way too big for a one year old.” She snorts, the memory flashing in her eyes. “I always thought Ben would be a good dad some day. But I think seeing your father was when Ben realized how much he wanted to have kids. And I think seeing the way your grandfather treated me made him start to feel conflicted about Countess. But he respected that I walked away, he saw that I was happy.”

“But what about Nicaragua?"

A dark look crosses her face followed by something that looks suspiciously like guilt. “I saw what they were going to do to him.”

“What? But why didn't you tell him what they were planning? Why didn't you-"

"I tried." She snaps, shoulders tense, but then they drop. "I called Ben, but Stan answered. By then your father was turning two, your grandfather had opened up his practice, and Stan threatened me, he knew where we were and knew everything about us. So I kept my mouth shut and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

You could feel your heart breaking for her.

Ben was her best friend and she had to sit by and watch them do that to him. She saw what they were going to do and they were going to kill her for it, kill my family for it.

The anger that surges in your chest makes the creature in your lap stir and grow a few inches, but you tamp it down before it gets bigger than a small dog.

“Does Ben know?” You ask her to distract yourself.

You didn't want Ben to hate your grandmother for this, didn't want him to hate her for something that wasn't her fault.

She nods. “Yes. I told him everything.”

“When?”

“The moment I saw him in your hospital room. I couldn’t keep it in any longer. I wasn't expecting him to be there, but it all poured out of me. I was so surprised to see him there. I hadn't seen a future where he came back."

“Was he mad?”

I mean… he didn't seem mad when I woke up, not to mention he was upset when she left to come back to Illinois.

“Not at me.” She shakes her head. “He knew how much I wanted a normal life and how much I loved your grandfather. He doesn’t blame me for any of it.”

“Good. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

The glass in front of you is still more than half-full but you don't want to risk another sip of what you're sure is gasoline packaged to look like Scotch. Your grandmother reaches to pour herself another glass.

“I didn’t want to until you were ready.”

“And when would that be?”

Your grandmother shrugs. “Maybe on my deathbed.”

You weren't angry for her not telling you, more surprised, but now that you knew everything about her it was hard to see her the same way you had.

 You snort. “And no one knew?”

“Your dad figured it out.”

“How? When?”

“The moment you made that strawberry plant grow from your high chair.” She shakes her head with a smile. “It skipped a generation. Don’t know why, but you got it all somehow.”

“I was never injected?”

“No. That was a lie your father created. He knew that your grandfather didn't know and he knew that I didn't want your grandfather to know."

“Darren thought I was.”

“I know.”

At the mention of your brother's name, you watch her expression harden and she takes another swig from the glass in front of her, not flinching as the liquid goes down her throat.

“Did you see everything that happened?” You ask in a small voice.

You still weren't 100% sure how it was her powers worked, but you figured that she was able to see some of what Darren did and what he said.

“Yes.”

“You heard everything Darren said?"

“Yes.”

You chew the inside of your cheek for a minute hoping that she didn't take it as hard as you did. “Did you know that he killed them?”

“No.” She breathes, rolling the glass between her hands for a moment. “The night they died, I got a vision a few minutes before the car ran off the road. I was the one who called the police and who told them where to look, but I never saw that it was Darren or that it was anyone causing the accident. All I saw was the three of you in the car. I should have known.” Her voice breaks.

“It’s not your fault.” You squeeze her hand.

“And it’s not yours either.” She squeezes your hand back.

The memories are beginning to float up from the recesses of your mind and your teeth clench together as you try to keep them at bay.

“I know.” You breathe. The memory of the ruined shop flashes through your head. “I didn’t know that I could do something like that.” You gently touch your healed right arm and glance at the creature that is nibbling on the edge of the cardboard box with its sharp splinter-like teeth. “I feel so different and I don’t know how to go back to the way I was.”

“I don’t think you ever will.”

"Really?"

The thought was unwelcome. You were hoping that all of this was going to blow over, but you knew it wouldn't. Your powers had changed. There was an energy that thrummed in your veins now, stretching out of the house to the plants that grew in the garden. You could feel them all if you concentrated.

She frowns. “When you told me that you were working for Butcher I was worried about you getting involved in the supe world. I didn’t want that life for you, didn’t want you to suffer the way I did-“

“Was it really that bad?"

“Not all the time, just at the end. But I think that’s why I loved your grandfather so much. Because he was different than all the supes. He was down to earth, not just normal but-“ She shrugs. “I think Compound V does something to our minds, makes them more susceptible and when you’re surrounded by people using their powers and thinking that they’re gods it’s easy to lose who you are. I was glad I left when I did."

“Great." You huff, thinking about how your powers had grown exponentially since you killed your brother. It was scaring you to think that you would reach a point where you acted like Homelander, where you saw yourself as a god and killed anyone who stood in your way.

As tired as the stereotype of you only being able to make the flowers grow, you liked doing that. You liked healing plants, tending to them, and helping them grow. For you it had never been about using your powers the way that you had to kill Elijah and your brother and had always been about spreading a little more joy and love like your grandmother did with her kindness in her community.

Your mind flashes back to the first night that Ben stayed with you in your apartment and he'd asked you why you worked for Butcher and told you that he thought you "didn't fit."

Before you hadn't. You knew that. You weren't intimidating to look at or fueled by revenge or had a bone to pick with supes. You'd joined because you thought it was the right thing to do and because you wanted to be closer with Annie. She had been so involved in the supe world and you'd felt like you were losing your best friend. When in reality being at "Please Don't Die" was the only thing that felt natural for you.

You could feel yourself changing and you weren't sure that you wanted to and you weren't sure if you were changing for the better. Deep down you still felt like you, despite everything Darren had revealed, but your powers were greater than you'd thought they could be.

“No.” She squeezes your hand pulling you out of your head. “I don’t see you losing yourself in this.”

“You’ve seen-“ Your eyes widen.

“The future yeah.” Her lips twitch up at the ends in a smile. “It is what I do.”

“That’s so weird.”

You hadn't meant to say it, but you really didn't want to know too much about your future.

Well, not all that much. Maybe just a little.

“You of all people have no right to judge what’s weird. Not with Godzilla sitting in your lap.”

"Godzilla" yawns, flashing a mouthful of his pointy teeth, before settling back down on your thighs.

You smile for the first time in twenty hours, but then it drops. “I don’t like losing control. I thought I knew who I was but now I don’t-“ The emotions were bubbling up again, chest tightening, and lungs beginning to gasp for air. “I don’t know who I am anymore or what I am or what I can do and-“

“There’s nothing wrong with not being in control.”

“But what if I hurt someone? What if I kill-“ You body shakes as you think about all the important people in your life, Annie, Hughie, Butcher, Kimiko, MM, Frenchie- and then your mind stutters on Ben.

“Your powers are growing and there’s nothing to be afraid of or ashamed of. If you’re afraid of them it won’t get easier for you. You have to embrace the fear to see the lights that line the path through it.”

"I killed Darren, I killed Elijah-"

"Not because you lost control. You did it because you were protecting yourself and protecting your friends."

"But-"

"Who is it that you're scared of hurting? Annie?" Her expression turns sympathetic. "Annie is a supe and understands what it's like to lose control. None of us are in control all the time and it's ridiculous to believe that you won't lose control at least once."

Your throat clenches tightly, because when she asked the question you didn't see Annie's face, you saw Ben's. You knew that it was probably ridiculous to worry about hurting a guy with a nuclear reactor stuffed in his chest or a guy who'd been through every torture known to man, but you were. And you weren't entirely sure if you meant hurting him with just your powers.

Tears crest and fall down your cheeks as you sit there, throat thickening. "I don't want to hurt Ben."

"He's a little more indestructible than us sweetie." She cracks a smile, but you can't smile back and you don't answer because you're unsure how to.

She sits back against the breakfast nook and sighs, examining your face and slowly realizes what you mean. "Ben is complicated. He always has been. I like to think that most of it, is his father's fault. Has he told you anything about him?"

You shake your head.

"He was a dick. Made Ben think that he was a disappointment his whole life. I don't think that Ben has had someone love him unconditionally since his mother died. And loving Countess only made it worse for him. Her love was jealous, possessive, and I don't think that he's really come to terms with what real love should look like." She lets out a breath, tapping her index finger against the glass. "I never saw him as more than a friend, but I do love him. It's not a crime to love him."

"I don't love him." You say it immediately.

"Why not?"

"What?" You sputter. "I don't know what you're-"

"Tell me why you don't love him." Your grandma says methodically, as if she's trying to talk you through it.

"Because I-" The pressure was back in the back of your throat and you couldn't quite meet her eye. "Because-" You scramble for the answer, trying your darndest to keep your heart from clenching in your chest. "I want what you and grandpa had, what Annie and Hughie have, and what my parents had. A strong relationship with someone who sees all my flaws, the little parts, and the darkness and still choses to fall in love with me anyway. I don't want just one night I want every night. I want something real and Ben has said countless times that he-"

"So you've talked about it with Ben?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Only because he kept trying to sleep with me and I told him that I didn't want to have sex with him." You reply exasperated.

"You don't?"

"Gran!"

"What? He's attractive."

"It doesn't matter. None of it does. Because Ben has said that he doesn't have relationships, that he doesn't care about feelings, or emotions." Saying the words that Ben had told you countless times made something inside begin to shrivel up and die. "And I do. And I don't want to manipulate him into being something he's not or force him into a relationship that's doomed from the beginning. Ben is Ben. He's not changing or-"

"He has." She interrupts.

"What?"

"The Ben I saw in your hospital room is not the one I knew." She says it so matter of fact that makes it hard to breathe. "And neither was the one that I saw in your apartment when I stayed with you. I mean he is in essence Ben, but-"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"He is changing. Not completely, but he's acting differently than when he was with Countess. I mean, I saw all the things he did for her. The way he was around her."

"Why does that matter?"

"Because he loved her."

The words make your heart seize in your chest. "Ben doesn't love me. He's my roommate and my friend-" It was the same thing that you kept telling yourself on repeat to beat back the other feelings that you hadn't quite identified yet. "And he's told me that he doesn't want a relationship and that I should try to meet other people."

That last part was a lie, but you honestly didn't know where she was going with this conversation or why it was getting so hard to breathe.

"Have you thought that maybe Ben doesn't want to love you because he's scared?"

"He doesn't love me and Ben isn't afraid of anything."

"He is. It might not look the same way on him as it does on everyone else, but if you pay close enough attention you can catch it." She hesitates. "And I think if you pay attention to you, you'll see what it is that you're afraid of too."

What does she mean? What the hell am I afraid of? Ben isn't afraid of anything, he's practically shouted that from the mountaintops like Julie Andrews.

"I already told you what I'm afraid of."

"I'm not talking about you hurting someone honey. There's something else that you refuse to admit to yourself because you're scared." She smiles sadly at you. "You should though, because when you embrace it, what comes after is really beautiful." There's a far off look in her eyes and you realize that she'd seen something further ahead that she wasn't letting on.

"And it's all I want for you. To be happy." Your grandmother stands from the other side of the booth "I think you need some rest. You drove all night long and I doubt you got any sleep. And I have to package all of these before Annie's mother calls down the four horsemen of the Apocalypse on me."

"Wait-"

"Please sweetie." She lays her hand down on your arm. "I think you'll feel a little better about all of this when you've had some rest." Her fingers raise to push back some of the hair that's fallen forward into your eyes. "Hmm?"

You didn't want to rest, you wanted to talk about this, but you knew better than to argue with her. Not to mention she was right, you hadn't slept.

"And when you wake up I'll make your favorite for dinner, alright?" She smiles, but there's something behind it that you can't place.

"Okay."

And this time you don't argue with her. You go up the worn staircase that you have your entire life and collapse onto your bed, wondering exactly what it was she saw your future hold, and what it is that you won't admit to yourself.

Soldier Boy POV

There was no light in the apartment save from the burning red tip of Ben's blunt and the bluish glow emanating from the tv that caught the dips and sharp edges of his face. But it was nothing more than background noise.

His hand absentmindedly stroked along Bean's back, his eyes focused on the ceiling above the couch. He hadn't moved in hours. It had been over twenty four hours since everything that happened at the plant shop, since you'd summoned a creature from the depths of the store, since Darren had thrown Ben through the plate glass windows of the bakery, and since Ben had last seen you.

He didn't understand why you hadn't let him take you back to the apartment and why it was that you had to leave. Ben hadn't liked the feeling that stabbed him in the chest when you turned your back on him and ran away. He'd felt the urge to comfort you the way he'd watched Hughie do for Annie in the car a week ago, but you hadn't let him.

Instead all he'd done is stood there and watched you run, still covered in dust, rubble, and blood. Worse was you hadn't let him check you for injuries and Ben hated the thought that you were hurt somewhere and he didn't know where you were.

You were so much more fragile than he was. He was realizing that more every day, was acutely aware of it after everything that happened with Elijah. Honestly, sitting there in the hospital with you laying there asleep with nothing that he could do, but wait for you to wake up had been agony. Not to mention that looking at the bruises around your throat, over your eye, and the bright green cast only made him feel worse. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life and he hated it. Because Ben wasn't some helpless damsel in distress, he was a man and a man shouldn't wait on anyone or feel out of control, or at least, that's what he told himself.

Ben hears someone walk down the hallway outside the apartment and he perks up to listen, hoping that it's you finally coming home. Ben's mind stutters on the word "home." He'd lived many places in his life, apartments that felt more like way-stations, and the drafty cold mansion back in Philadelphia where he grew up, but neither felt like home. And although he hated how small your apartment was, it was the first place that Ben liked living in. He was starting to understand the word home.

But the feet keep moving past the apartment and Ben sinks into the couch cushions. Even Bean seems to be disappointed. "It's alright buddy." Ben mutters. "She'll come back."

But he wasn't sure.

Ben also wasn't used to feeling this way. It was close to the way that he felt when he went to Boston and was sitting in that damn hotel room waiting for something to happen and he still didn't understand what it meant. He didn't understand why he couldn't stand it that you weren't back yet. It made him feel like a woman waiting for her husband to get home from work when he told her that he was "running late." He'd tried to distract himself by looking at some possible prospects on Tinder, but just like the week after you'd come home from the hospital and just like the date he had in Boston, no one held any appeal.

His mind was awake and roaming around, pacing back and forth. The blunt was supposed to help, but it hadn't.

His phone chirps and Ben picks it up to look at the screen, but it's not you, it's Jake.

Jake: I know that I'm not your favorite person, but thank you for what you did.

Ben huffs and turns his phone face down on the couch once more. "What a fucking pussy."

When you left Ben had realized that Jake was still inside the building and as much as he wanted race after you, he understood that you'd be even more upset if you'd killed Jake. So Ben had tromped back through the building and found him trapped beneath some rubble. Jake was okay, just unconscious, but Ben had carried him out and put him on the sidewalk before he high tailed it out of there. The last thing that he wanted was to be caught with a shredded body outside a ruined building.

I didn't do it for him. I did it for her. Ben thinks to himself, looking down at the text message.

As much as he hated the thought of saving your future boyfriend, he didn't want to see what it did to you if you found out that you killed Jake, so he'd done it to avoid watching you cry again.

Ben didn't understand why he hated watching you cry.

Women cry. They're damn emotional all the time. He tries to reason with himself taking a puff from the blunt pinched between his thumb and forefinger. And she fucking cries way too much.

The image of you crying outside of the shop in the wake of everything that happened pricks something under his ribcage. Fuck.

Ben didn't feel remorse for what happened, well, the only thing he regretted was not getting there sooner and getting to fuck Darren up himself. When Diana had called him to tell him that Darren was coming, Ben had practically ripped the apartment door off in his haste to get back to you. He hadn’t wanted to leave you at the plant shop, but Butcher had told Ben, that he had a possible location for Darren, but it came up empty and Ben had been at Butcher's apartment chewing him out for sending him on a fucking wild goose chase.

It only made Ben more angry to allow Darren to speak to you, but he was trying to let you handle it even though he wanted to handle him. But it had brought him an unholy amount of joy to throw Darren in front of that minivan and to watch that creature tear him apart while the final whitish blue pulses of electricity jumped and crackled down the street making the streetlights shower sparks everywhere.

But Ben was more upset that Darren had been able to land a few hits on you before you killed him.

Ben remembered the giant lizard that crawled out of what was left of "Please Don't Die" and felt his lips quirk up into a smile. As much as he hated the entire situation, Ben couldn't help but feel a little surge of pride at what you'd done to your brother. He'd never seen you look so powerful standing there in the street, your eyes glowing a brilliant green, arms outstretched, and the ground trembling around you as the world begged to be unleashed.

Of course he'd been just as surprised as you were at the fact that you'd healed your broken arm. He wasn't sure if you'd noticed it yet, but you looked different too. There weren't as many lines on your face and your hair was more springy, the few silver hairs that Ben had noticed in passing were no longer there.

He wasn't sure what that meant, but there was something that felt suspiciously like hope tingling in his stomach, hope that you weren't as fragile anymore and hope that it meant you wouldn't die.

When Diana had told Ben that her husband had died, he saw the pain in her eyes when she said it, saw her relieving the memory, and for some reason as soon as she said that he was dead, the first thing Ben thought about was you. Ben hadn't considered his inability to age as much in the past, hadn't cared about outliving anyone before. Seeing Countess as an older woman had made him more aware of it. Looking at the woman who he once thought he loved, had showed him what that was like. Not that he had a problem with daring older women, Ben always thought that women really did get better with age, but it was what came next that Ben wasn't fond of.

And for some reason thinking that one day he'd wake up and see the marks of age on your face or one day he'd wake up and he wouldn't be able to annoy you or hear you yell at him made his chest tight.

Ben takes another hit of his blunt. The longer he sat there the more then unnatural feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach, thrumming through his veins, the feeling that he was trying to avoid. He thought that the joint would calm him down, but he found himself jumping at every creak and footstep in the apartment building, perking up each time and hoping that it was you coming home.

He didn't know where you were. You hadn't answered any of his texts or calls and Ben was ashamed at how many times that he had tried to call you.

Get a fucking grip. He'd thought to himself when he typed out another text message to send you, stopping himself from sending it.

But he'd been so desperate to hear from you that he'd actually gone to talk to Annie who seemed upset that she couldn't get ahold of you either. When Hughie and Annie had seen how upset Ben had been, Hughie had laid his hand on Ben's arm and told him not to worry. Ben had yelled at him that he "wasn't fucking worried and to mind his own business" and had shaken off Hughie's comforting hand before stomping out of the shared apartment.

No one else seemed to be as concerned about finding you. Butcher, MM, and Frenchie were all deeply involved in trying to figure out the cover-up for what happened outside the plant shop. By some miracle no one had caught a picture of your face, but there was little they could do about Darren's body that had been strewn across the street. Annie was having to deal with the repercussions at work, trying to handle what the news was calling a "super villain threat."

Personally, Ben thought that since they froze Homelander, the Seven looked weak and Ben believed that the superhero team that represented America shouldn't look weak. Of course before Ben had also thought that they looked like a bunch of pussies and again felt himself sink deeper into the couch when he thought about what his supposed son had become.

He shakes off the feelings he has about it and his thoughts turn back inevitably to you.

Ben wasn't used to thinking about someone as much as he thought of you, but each time he settled back into the apartment and you weren't there he was hyperaware of how quiet it was.

Maybe I should call Diana. She might know where she is.

As soon as Ben thinks that, his phone begins to ring, but Ben doesn't bother to look at who it is before he answers it. 

"Hello?" Ben huffs out a breath of smoke that hangs in the air in front of his face, catching in the bluish light coming from the television.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The voice on the other side of the line yells at him.

"Di?"

"Yes it's me. Who did you think it was? Santa Clause?" Your grandmother snarks.

"Why are you calling me and why the fuck are you so mad? What did I do?" Ben answers slightly annoyed.

As much as you got under his skin, your grandmother had been the same way. He actually thought that it was amusing that even before he figured out that she was your grandmother that he had often compared you to her in his mind. You had the same mannerisms, the same defiant and stubborn attitude that drove Ben up the wall, and you were just as beautiful as she was.

Ben was okay with admitting that he was attracted to you. To him that felt normal, it was the other feelings that he was conflicted about, the ones that he'd never felt before stirring in his chest that made him feel "too emotional" and "woman-like."

Truthfully, Ben was sure that if your grandmother had given him a shot that maybe he would have felt that way about her too. She was the only person that Ben actually trusted in the 80's, the only person that was brave enough to call him out on all his shit. You did that now. But he liked her husband also, so Ben was content with letting her go. He liked how happy that Henry, your grandfather, had made her. He knew that she wasn't happy as a supe and seeing her so happy and in love made Ben feel something that was close to happiness.

And it was seeing the way the two of them were together made Ben wonder if what he had with Countess was the same thing. Because he did have feelings about her that were different, but each time he went to visit Diana and saw your father playing on her lap he felt that there was something missing in his life.

It was the same way that he thought something was missing when you weren't in the apartment, but Ben hadn't realized that yet.

"Because I don't understand what the hell you're doing!" Diana replies and Ben honestly doesn't know why she's angry with him.

"About what?"

"My granddaughter."

Ben sits up the blunt in his fingertips forgotten. "Is she there with you?"

"Yes." Her voice softens for a moment.

Ben relaxes and leans back onto the couch, sighing in relief. "Good.  That's good." Relief swelled in his chest when he thought about you staying with her, safe.

That's what she meant when she said that she wanted to go home. Home is with her grandmother. Ben stopped the next thought before he could go there.

The thought that home wasn't with him.

Ben was trying not to think about that or think about you hating him. He didn't think you did, well, didn't think you did anymore. At first it really was touch and go, but now he was almost eighty percent sure after you'd told him more than once that you weren't afraid of him and didn’t hate him that you sometimes wanted him around.

"No, not good."

"What do you mean? Is she okay?" Ben's grip on the phone tightens so hard that he's sure that he hears the screen cracking.

"No."

"What happened?" Ben's voice is a growl, the feelings of relief evaporating as soon as they had begun to bloom in his chest. He mentally calculated how long it would take him to get to you.

"Her entire life fucking fell apart and where are you? Not here!"

Oh. Ben relaxed a little bit.

"I don't need to be there." He says on an exhale of smoke.

"Yes you do!" Diana presses.

"No, I don't. She a big girl she doesn't need me there, she's-" Ben takes a puff from the joint.

“If you were any denser you’d be a Bundt cake Benjamin!” She says exasperated.

"What the fuck are you talking about doll? I am not-"

“Let me guess." She interrupts and Ben can imagine her tapping her foot. He hated when she did that. "You’re moping around smoking a blunt on the couch probably with a glass of something that you're hoping to numb whatever the hell it is you're feeling."

Ben's eyes shift to the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table that he hadn't touched in a few minutes.

“I’m not fucking moping and stop spying on me!” He snaps back at Diana.

He hated how well she knew him. She was his best friend in the 80's through all the shit, she had seen him at his worst and at his best too many times to count.

“I don’t have to use my powers to know what you’re doing. I know you Ben.”

"Sorry to disappoint you sweetheart.” Ben grits his teeth, temper flaring hot. “But if you know me as well as you fucking say you do then you then you know that this is-“

“You avoiding your feelings by acting aloof and brooding like a fucked up version of Mr. Darcy.” She interrupts.

She certainly hasn't changed.

“I am not avoiding-“

“She needs you here Ben.” Diana stamps her foot, the same way you do when Ben pisses you off, and Ben can hear it.

“She doesn’t need me! She said that she wanted to go home, that she didn’t want to be here with me! I tried to-“ Ben shouts back standing up. It was the exact thing that he'd been thinking for the past twenty four hours, that you didn’t need him and that you didn't want to be any where near him.

That last thought made an uncomfortable sensation prickle in his gut when he thought it, because all it did was remind him of how you acted when the two of you first met, when you didn't want him to live with you and tried your darndest to make him go away.

He didn’t want to and he wasn't sure why that was.

“Try harder.” Diana interrupts him again and frankly it was pissing him off.

Ben clenches his jaw. “I think that you’ve confused me with someone else baby.”

“Don’t you 'baby' me Benjamin! We both know that you’re doing what you always do when things get hard for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“You pretend not to care and shut out everyone who tries to care for you. Not to mention you drown yourself in drugs, booze, and women.”

“She doesn’t care about me!” He spits.

“She does!” Diana snaps back. “And believe it or not she needs you here and she wants you here.”

"But-"

"Ben please." It was the first time that he'd heard Diana sound softer and almost pleading since the conversation started. "Don't do this to her. She's worth more than Countess and all those other women you've fallen into bed with."

"Do you really think I don't know that?" He roars. The answer surprises himself. "Do you think I don't know that she's different?"

Wait what?

"If you know that, then why aren't you here?"

He hesitates.

Everything you said to him the night of the party comes roaring back. You looking beautiful in a dress that made his throat tight, and you telling him that you just wanted to be friends and that you understood that he wasn't the type of guy to have relationships. He didn't understand why it stung a bit when you said that, but it had.

Ben thinks about the week that the two of you spent together after Diana went home, when he tried his best to take care of you, distract you from everything that happened with his movies, and would sit with you and try to make you laugh. He'd never wanted to take care of someone before.

Not to mention he kind of liked the way you laughed. He wouldn’t admit that to anyone, but each time you did, it made him want to laugh too. That had never happened to him before. But he wanted to make you laugh to forget everything that happened with Elijah. His fist clenches when he thinks of exactly what Elijah tried to do to you and it makes him feel so mad that he feels close to spontaneously combusting. Ben might not be the best role model when it came to women, but he couldn’t imagine the type of man who would force himself on someone else.

It had made him angry when he thought that you were suggesting that he would try something when he first moved in, because he wasn't that type of man.

Ben was trying to be better for you. He wasn't admitting that, but he really was trying to be better. He didn't understand why. You'd told him countless times that you didn’t want to be with him, that you wanted to be with someone else like Jake.

Ben frowns when he thinks about the man he'd pulled from the rubble of the shop. And again thinks to himself that you should be with someone different, someone who was a supe and could understand you. Ben had seen how difficult it was for Diana when she was keeping her supe life a secret from your grandfather and he didn't want you to have to do that with someone.

"Because I'm not-" Ben begins to say, but he holds his tongue. It was too honest, too raw, too unlike him to admit this to anyone.

Because I'm not this guy. Because I'm not the one she wants. Because I'm not some knight on a white horse. Because she's everything right with the world and I'm just a fucking asshole who sleeps on her couch.

"Ben." Diana breathes and he can practically hear her pinching the bridge of her nose. "In all the years I've known you, you've never done what you did for her with anyone else. You carried her out of that warehouse, you stayed with her in the hospital even after she woke up, you took care of her when she came home, you protected her from Darren. You can't ignore all those things."

"I'm not ignoring them. She's my friend." The word sours in his mouth as he says it. "And she would have done the same thing for me." He knew it was true.

She's a good person and she wouldn't let me chase her away if any of that shit happened to me and I told her to leave me alone.

"Yes she would. Because she cares about you." Diana sighs.

"She doesn't."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Because she's told me what she wants!" Ben shouts so loudly he can feel the room shaking. "She wants to be friends-“

"Because she doesn't think that you want a relationship you nitwit!"

"I don't." Ben spits the words before he can stop them, but as he does something tightens at the base of his throat.

"How is it that it's been forty fucking years and you're still able to dance on the grave of my last nerve?"

Ben chuckles. "I missed you too sweetheart."

She sighs into the phone again making it crackle in Ben's ear. "She needs you.” Diana repeats. “And I think you need her too.”

His temper was flaring again, the thoughts that his father pressed into him surging up before he can stop the words. “I don’t need anyone. I’m Sol-“

“If you say that you’re Soldier Boy, I’m going to reach through this phone and slap you silly.” She snaps. “And you do need her, but you’re still just too stubborn to admit it.”

“I-“

“Ben I know that everything that happened with Countess was fucked up, but my granddaughter she-“ Diana pauses before she changes the thought.  “You say that you know she’s different, but right now you’re treating her the same way you treat all those other women.”

“I’m not-“

“My granddaughter has decided you’re important to her and once that’s happened it’s hard to make her let go. You saw the way she was with Darren and that guy was a manipulative asshole. Imagine what she thinks of you.”

“I-“

“Stop making excuses!”

“You didn’t even hear what I was going to say!” Ben shouts.

“And I don’t need to! Think what you want Ben but if you’d stop acting so stubborn and so ridiculously blind to what’s right in front of you. I promise that what comes next is worth the risk.”

“Don’t go all fucking mystical on me doll.”

“And don’t go all macho- no feelings asshole on me! So stop being so damn stubborn, get on a plane and get your ass here.” She retorts. “Don’t fuck this up Benjamin because if you do I’ll fuck you up.”

The line goes dead.

Ben sat there for a minute in the silence still holding the phone up to his ear, listening to what your grandmother said to him ring around in his head for a second.

No one ever spoke to him that way. In fact, Ben had never allowed anyone to speak to him the way that she did, well, not until you came along. You reminded him so much of her that it was astounding and he wasn't going to admit that maybe it's why he liked being around you so much.

Ben frowns at what Diana said, thinking about the unusual feelings that were swirling in the pit of his stomach. He felt wrong and the feelings were odd for him. He hadn't felt anything remotely like this ever in his life, not even for Countess.

And although Ben refused to be afraid of anything, the feelings he was having scared him. He didn’t understand and he wasn't sure that he wanted to. He wasn't sure that he wanted to see where this ended up. He felt like he was in too deep.

As much as he wanted to go to you like Diana ordered him to, he wasn't sure that he should. Something was holding him back, digging it's heels in and refusing to budge.

But why do I feel like-

His phone rings and he doesn't look at the caller ID when he picks up, expecting it to be Diana again, yelling at him.

"Di I-"

But it's not Diana.

"Hello Ben. It's nice to hear your voice again." The familiar voice says, sounding calm and collected.

"What the fuck do you want?" Ben snarls.

 "I thought it was time the two of us had a chat.”

A/N: At this point Diana is really just trying to give both Ben and the reader the kick in the pants they need. And yes I know another cliffhanger, but you know you love it. 🤭😉 We are quickly reaching the end of this series, but that means the confession scene is coming and I am so excited about it!!

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, likes, and comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know. 😊

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

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@melonmochi

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@pixviee @filmologetica @yvonneeeee @c1nnamong1rl29 @kmc1989

@livya99 @cherrygirl444

[kakusu-shipping]

BakuDeku beloved the base level MHA ship thankyou for the ask @echoes-lighthouse

SHIP IT!

What made you ship it?

My nephew who got me into the show in the first place dsnfjdsf He was the first to imply Bakugo and Izuku were a couple, probably because he heard it from the girls who recommended the show to him in the first place. That and him telling me All Might was my Type were my first introductions to the program as a whole.

Favorite things about the Ship?

Childhood friends to rivals to lovers 60k slow burn. I love a bully turned ally, I adore really everything about Bakugo, and I think Izuku's neat and his persistence is cute. He'll hang on to fond memories of Kaachan, even if even back then Bakugo was only ever mean to him, to other kids, to everyone... Izuku still sees him as a good person and a good hero and a good friend... It's cute.

Unpopular Opinion?

Not exactly an opinion per say but people who call this one problematic/toxic because Bakugo is Izuku's "abuser" make me uncomfortable... It's weird to call a kid an abuser to me, even a fictional one. He was 14, no one is their best at 14.

Bonus Headcanons!

I don't think they were Dating dating as kids but they were as non-romantically close elementary school kids could get. Holding hands, going everywhere together, sharing everything. They were a pair Do Not Separate.

In middle school Bakugo still had his feelings for Izuku, which is why he went so out of his way to torment him. He didn't like him, he hated him, obviously. He was just trying to convince himself of this feeling.

Izuku's feelings for Bakugo are muddled, and if you asked him about it he'd struggle with a simple answer. It wasn't always like that, but sense Bakugo first used his quirk against someone weaker than him just for fun, Izuku's had a hard time keeping the green flag in his opinion of Bakugo

Half of the class are pro Bakugo/Izuku, mostly the Baku Squad, Shoto, and Hagakure. The other half of the class think Izuku deserves better, Uraraka and Tsu especially are rooting for him to turn Bakugo down. Izuku appreciates it, but is quick to say he's putting his hero work before a relationship. Bakugo has refused to comment on the debate

[jensthwa]

show & tell pt. 2 (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

After the… masterclass you gave Mingi the night before, you’re left anxious on what the future holds for you both. But there’s a pool party you promised you would attend and there’s not really time for you to figure your feelings out before your best friend shows up at your door to drive you to it. So maybe today is not the day to figure your feelings out, right? It’s just a pool party anyways, so nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen… right?

PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: childhood best friends (idiots) to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 11k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) anxiety attack, attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit part two ft jongho, a new oc being the voice of reason, reader is clueless and in denial i fear, jealousy, miscommunication, fighting so this part is just a tiny bit angsty :(, confessions, teasing, face sitting, hand job, car sex (don't do it in public people, it can get you arrested), pet names (love and baby), a plot line at the end none of you guys are going to get until my new wip drops but it's worth the wait!

NOTES: hey everyone! thank you so much for patiently waiting for this second and last part to drop. i think that, after this one, if you guys want to request any drabbles or if i come up with some scenarios for this couple i will post them but for now nothing is on the works. what is on the works is a wip that's part of the same universe as this one, so pay attention to the new characters i mention if you want any clues! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: july 28th 2024.

TAGLIST (sorry if i forgot anyone, pls let me know!): @vannerriin / @mingtinysworld / @purple-bell / @bakepotatoman / @nxy3h / @taehyungmami / @nxcxllxsevens / @breadpuddingboys / @hotteokkay

masterlist.

When you wake the next morning, the consequences of restless sleep show up in your face as a reminder of what happened the night before. 

It's not that you regret it, it's more the fact that you feel so unapologetic about messing with the perfect dynamic you have with Mingi that caused you to toss and turn so much. 

Last night, after putting your duvet back on and then crashing into the mattress feeling all tingly and giddy, you asked yourself a thousand questions. 

The main one being: What the fuck did you do? 

The words kept repeating over and over in your head, your voice of reason (or your anxiety) screaming at you to get your phone and make it right before everything becomes a complicated, unresolvable mess. 

You had a brief moment of panic and heavy breathing, your chest tight with unspoken emotion and your eyes filled with tears. 

It was too much, so you forced yourself up and paced around for what felt like hours trying to get your feet back on the ground. Nothing was working, so you sat down at your desk and rested your forehead against it. 

When you didn't feel the usual coolness of the wood, a comfort sensation for when your studies got the best out of you for the day, and instead felt a pen almost stab you in the eye, you -very confused- leaned back. 

Mingi’s notebook and the pen he didn't put back on the pencil case seemed to stare back at you lovingly instead of mocking you for losing control over your own emotions. 

A sense of peace washed over you when you flipped the pages and landed on the instructions he wrote down. Memories of the amazing years you have had by his side started crossing your mind, like recomforting flashes that allowed your heartbeat to go back to normal: 

The first day you saw Mingi, chasing behind a worned out soccer ball and then kicking it so hard it landed on your lawn. 

The first time you two hugged, when your dad scolded you for having bad grades until you cried in front of him. 

The way he held your hand before heading inside to take the college admission exam, last year of highschool. 

His kind eyes. His reassuring smile. The way he made you feel just a few hours back. 

There's no getting rid of me either, love.

We'll figure it out. 

Letting a few contained tears run down your cheeks, you nodded to yourself as if he was there in the room with you. 

Yeah, you'll figure it out.  

And then proceeded to, very much, not figure shit out for the rest of the night. You could still feel his hands everywhere and hear his voice against your ear whispering how much he knows you and pays attention to you. 

You are fucked. 

It's all you can think about when you get ready for the day. It's all you can think about when you help your dad with lunch and when you let your parents know at the table that you are going out that same afternoon. 

“Mingi is driving you, right?” 

“Yeah…” you whisper in response, eyes focused on one specific spot at the table and mind a million years away from the conversation. 

“Good. He's such a good kid, Y/N, I'm glad he knows how to take care of you.” 

Choking on air when your brain finally catches up to her words, you look back up at your mother in shock “W-what?” 

“Yeah honey, what? Y/N can take care of herself,” your father chips in, unaware of your red cheeks or the honest expression of panic you're giving both of them “She's a big girl that carries around that, uh… What was it?— Ah, that pepper spray I gave her, right?” 

“R-right.” 

He lets out a satisfied see? at your answer, gives you a tiny smile and gets up from the table to take his finished plate over to the sink. 

Your mom stays behind, giving you a look you can't quite read before her usual calm expression washes it away. Only then, you can take a proper, very needed, calming breath. 

“I need to get ready. Thank you for the food.” 

“You made it, dear.” 

“I mean! For taking care of the, uh, plates,” you clumsily correct yourself right away, getting up from the table as well “Love you. Bye!” 

You don't miss the confused giggle on your way to your room and when you're behind closed doors, you finally take into consideration that you might be, in fact, overreacting.

Not much, you think, but just enough to give your feelings away. And it's truly a shame, because you were planning on concealing and bottle everything up until it, inevitably, blows up in your face. 

Maybe not the smartest option. 

If you bang your head against the wall with enough force maybe, just maybe it’ll help—

Someone's texting you. 

> gi: heeeeey > gi: just woke up lol > gi: had the best sleep ever tho > gi: how are you, love? 

Okay. So normal texting it is. Maybe your initial plan of just pretending nothing happened is, coincidentally, Mingi’s plan as well. 

So you type in it's literally almost one, ya lazy and let your thumb hover over the send button, eyebrows creased at a sudden realization. 

The casual texting annoys you. 

Sure, Mingi is used to keeping everything casual between him and the people he sleeps with, but you're not just anyone! You didn't sleep together, either! 

Oh, maybe that's why. 

But it ticks you off either way. 

Is he not feeling the same way you do? Did it mean something different for him than it did to you? What did it even mean to you in the first place?

Why, after all the panic you felt the night before, did you have any sort of expectation for today? 

It doesn't make any sense. 

You hit send. 

> gi: aaaaand?  > gi: god forbid a man gets a good night's rest after being thrown off a bed. 

Scoffing, your eyes roll before you can even control it and, to your demise, the giddiness returns. You respond with did you get hurt? awww and raise a hand to your blushed cheek before sending the message.

> gi: yeah wtf  > gi: my butt is all bruised.  > gi: kiss it better? 

Oh. 

Not casual texting. At. All. 

Or maybe it is? 

Ugh.

Blanking on everything Mingi has ever texted you before, you decide it's best to entertain yourself by getting all pretty to sit around the house party tonight and do nothing else instead of torturing your confused brain any longer. 

Using the help of an emoji to flip him off and, hopefully, gather yourself together enough to get ready, you shoot him another text rushing him to do the same because you don't want to be late. 

And he usually takes forever to get ready anyways.

Showering with very cold water, taking a good thirty minutes to decide whether to wear something comfy and fitting or sexy and fitting for the party do the job when it comes to taking your mind off him for, at least, the time being. 

Yunho was insistent the day before in that you didn't need to bring a bathing suit if you didn't want to, but you pack one anyways because you can sense Wooyoung's and Jongho’s intentions even if the youngest couldn't make it to your impromptu gathering yesterday. 

They know you hate when they get away with annoying you and throwing you into the nearest body of water -in this case, Yunho’s pool- in front of many people you don't know (therefore, you are not going to able to go insane mode on them) seems like the perfect opportunity to get away with it.

The last time they did it you weren't really able to scold them properly either, so they laughed and pointed at you until you threatened to kick their asses in a very dishonest but playful way. 

Mingi, of course, did nothing but laugh along with everyone else and then kiss your forehead as an apology later that day. 

That was last summer and since then both perpetrators have treated you to meals and buttered you up enough for you to forgive (as if you didn't do that the morning that followed the incident) but you never forget. 

Maybe you should. It would make the sight of Mingi parking outside your house easier, you think.

You're sure he's parking outside just to give your dad, who comes out to greet him with a hug, some peace of mind. He's very protective of you and he trusts Mingi even if he gives him a hard time everytime he sleeps over or takes you somewhere.  

Like now, you have a very clear view through your window of the sermon he's giving your best friend. You don't hear it but he's moving his hands in the air way too much for it not to be a clear step by step on what to do if you run into any trouble on the way to Yunho's. 

Mingi likes step by step and he's good at following instructions, so you don't think it's going to be an issue. 

God damnit, Y/N, get it together. 

Sighing, you pick up your bag, check your outfit once in front of the mirror, and rush downstairs and out of the door. 

“You do know how to change a tire, son?” 

Mingi is standing in front of your dad with his hands behind his back and a tight smile. 

“Yes sir, my dad taught me and then at the school they made sure I didn't forget about it.” 

“And make sure to—” 

“Could you let the guy breathe, dad?” 

They both turn to, your dad wears a mocking smile and you see Mingi’s tight one breaks into a genuine one a second later. A grateful one, even. 

He looks really good. Which is insane, considering that to you he looked like Chewbacca just yesterday morning. 

Crazy what a good orgasm can do to a person. Or maybe it's the first time you ever let yourself see him in this light. Either way, he's wearing light wash jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clings to him just right and it's going to drive you insane, you can just feel it. 

“I was just making sure that he—” 

“Knows what to do,” you nod “He knows what he's doing, dad. Stop giving him a hard time,” you give your dad a quick kiss on the cheek and then rush to the passenger seat, giving Mingi a glance so he can get in the car as well. 

“Alright. Love you, take care!” 

“Love you too, Mr. L/N!” Mingi says, getting into his seat and giving your dad the opportunity to see when he fastens his seatbelt. He doesn't say anything else, even though he didn't tell Mingi specifically that he loved him and instead gives you both a nod of approval. 

When Mingi finally drives off your street and into the main one, you sigh in relief. 

“He's neeever going to trust me, huh?” 

“He trusts you,” you say right away, cheek resting against the seat so you can take a proper look at him “I'm his only daughter and you're a man after all. Cut him some slack.” 

“He never cuts me some slack!” he fights back but you just laugh and he can't help but join you “You look really good, by the way. A dress? Are you trying to impress someone?” The tone he uses sparks the remaining tension from the night before, like zero time has passed since he kissed you goodnight by your front door. 

When you got into the car with Mingi, you didn't consider that you two would be alone for, at least, forty minutes before getting to your destination. Your mind skipped the fact that he has this new ability to fluster you by just existing near you and you curse it for not letting you prepare well enough for the way he's looking at you right now. 

“Obviously,” you answer in a whisper, clearing your throat a second later “Wooyoung needs to be distracted so he doesn't tackle me into the pool the second we get there. Don't know if it's gonna work on Jongho, though.” 

Mingi clicks his tongue, baring his teeth and pretending to really think about it “I don't think so, love. You'll have to bribe him into considering dropping their whole summer schtick for you.” 

“You can help me with that.” 

“Can I now?” 

“Yeah. You can just… lock him up in a room and my dress can do the rest of the work.” 

Your best friend laughs and then takes a hand off the steering wheel to roll the hem of your dress in between his thumb and index. His knuckles brush against your thigh and you almost -almost- make a noise at the sensation. 

“It's not the dress, love… It's who's wearing it.” 

A bit of silence passes within the both of you. 

“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

Laughter fills the car and drowns out the honking on the other side of the street and you wonder why you were worried in the first place. 

Nothing has changed. 

Aside from the intention laced with the flirting, it feels the same way it ever did and you couldn't be more glad because now that you know Mingi doesn't hate you (like you thought for a brief moment last night) or wants to hard launch a relationship that doesn't exist to your friends the second he gets them all together in the same room, you can enjoy the car ride and the evening that's about to follow it.

So you flirt with him freely, listen and sing along to songs that just feel like summer summarized in three minutes of exquisite writing and roll your window down once Mingi takes a turn into an hill, trees replacing the buildings you're so used to seeing. 

Your friend is rich rich. His family makes good money and his parents go on lots of business trips. That being said, it's the first time you actually attend one of his parties, and so when you get to Yunho’s house and ring the doorbell, you’re caught by surprise because you can already hear the loud music playing in the backyard and the blend of new and familiar voices through the thick door. 

You expect him to open the door for you but Seonghwa’s smile is the first thing you see before you and Mingi both have the opportunity to step in. 

“You made it!” 

“It's pretty hard to miss this house, Hwa.” 

Your older friend side-hugs you and stays by your side while Mingi takes it upon himself to put your bags for the day in the pile of other bags next to the door “How are you doing today?” 

You're about to answer but when you look at him, you see him staring at Mingi, so you do too. He's staring at Hwa with a little smile “I'm doing good. I blocked her and everything and I can confidently say that…” he turns to you “My ego’s not bruised anymore.” 

If Seonghwa caughts the spark between you and you best friend, he decides to ignore it “That's goo—” 

“Mingi!” 

What the hell is she doing here? 

Not, not that bitch from yesterday but this girl who Mingi meets with sometimes. You don't really know her, you just know she's gorgeous and that her name starts with an h, maybe? 

She's a fashion major and it shows in the way she's dressed up today. Truly, an enjoyable company whenever she's around at frat parties, a saving grace when you're tired of surrounding yourself with only men. 

Right now? She's your worst nightmare. 

Wrapping her arms around Mingi’s neck and getting on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek, she smiles like she knows she's getting laid tonight and your best friend does nothing to pull her away. 

She doesn't even say hi to you before dragging him to the backyard! You and Seonghwa follow them and when she takes Mingi’s arm and pulls him over to -you assume- introduce him to her friends, you almost stomp your feet like a little kid. 

Trying to get rid of the annoyed frown on your face, you turn to Hwa with a teasing smile and your eyebrows raised. 

“Well fuck me, am I right?” 

“I might!” Arms wrap around your waist and you feel Woo’s chin resting on you shoulder immediately after “That's a very nice dress, Y/N.” 

If Mingi was next to you, like you want him to be, you would give him a I told you so glance. Instead, you just look at Seonghwa with absolute horror before he snickers and goes away. 

“Right? And it looks horrible when it's drenched in nasty chlorine water.” 

“You can't possibly know that.” 

“I know a lot of things and— No! Woo, please don't,” you beg when he lifts you off the ground for a second. Behind you, you hear laughs and, even though you can't see them, you know it's San and Jongho “I just got here and I haven't even changed yet, please.” 

He turns you around and hugs you properly this time before letting you go. You take the opportunity to punch him in the arm and then go over to San and Jongho to do the same. 

“We'll let you get your swimsuit on this time.” 

“You're so considerate, Jong. Seriously, they're going to give you the Nobel prize if you don't stop.” He mocks you, repeating what you just said in a higher pitched voice and you laugh as you sit next to Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend, Gyuri. 

San also has a girl sitting beside him with his arm around her, but you don't really know her so you just wave at her. They're all in their bathing suits already “See how he tried to flirt with me to try to get me with my guard down? He's a monster.” 

“And in front of me, too? The nerve on this guy.” Gyuri, of course, backs you up immediately and you want to return her smile, but you can see Mingi from the corner of your eye and it's distracting. 

“Oh, they're ganging up on me already,” Wooyoung whines, sitting down in front of you both and handing you a drink “It's like my worst nightmare.” 

“He's enjoying it, don't let him convince you otherwise,” San says, getting up from his seat and taking his girl with him “Especially coming from you.” He points at Gyuri and you laugh. 

“We're just friends now!” 

“That's what you told me like three years ago before—” 

Wooyoung gets up to chase after him and San lets go of the girl's hand to try to get away from him. 

Turns out, you're not the one Woo tackles into the pool. This time, him and San crash down on the water hard and a few droplets of water wet your feet. Gyuri laughs and everyone else does too when they realize what's happening. 

Jongho gets up and joins them in the water soon after to try and help (kinda, not really) San escape the wrath of his best friend. 

You almost miss it, because you take the opportunity to look at your best friend and, when you do, he's already looking at you. 

Breath catches on your throat and the lump that forms afterwards has a name and a reason: Mingi is looking at you with so much longing it physically hurts. 

He looks like wants to drop everything and come and confuse your fragile mind even more, just like he did the night before. 

Then why the fuck is he there with whatever her name is and her friends and not sitting right next to you? 

You look away, grasping your drink for emotional support and convincing yourself you're starting to see things that are not actually there. 

“Why the fuck are y'all fighting this time?!” Yunho comes from inside the house and it's the first time you see him today “No choking! No running! It's literally in the rules!” 

“Wooyoung please let go of my boyfriend!” 

Ah. So she is San’s girlfriend. Still, you turn to Gyuri to ask. 

“Who is sh—” 

“San’s new girlfriend, Kyungmi. We don't give a fuck about her or San right now, we're mad at them,” you want to ask who we is, because Wooyoung seems like he's just playing, but she interrupts you again “What the fuck is going on with you and Mingi?” 

Huh?! 

You make a quick mental review of your plan. Conceal? Clearly it didn't work. Bury your emotions deep so no one notices? You probably can't recover from the way you smile just dropped. 

The only thing left on the list is pretend that you're insane, but you're not sure it'll work either. So you turn it on her: “Nothing much. He played Espresso like three times on a row on the way here and I almost kill him, but—” 

“You can't bullshit me, Y/N.” 

Great, that didn't work either. 

“I saw that. Seonghwa did too but he got up before I could convince him to ambush you,” she dramatically sighs, chugging the rest of her drink down “So, what is going on?” 

“Nothing,” that much is true “he's literally with a girl right now.” 

“And she will never mean as much to him as you do. Next.” 

“Gyuri… I really don't know what you want me to say.” 

Squinting her eyes at you suspiciously, Gyuri takes her time before answering and you fidget in your seat a little. Wooyoung liked her for a reason, she's feisty and goes straight to the point and it's something you usually admire but right now it's not the time for her to do this. 

“I just thought maybe it finally happened…” She whispers and shrugs the entire conversation off before getting up “Let's head inside. They're going to start grilling meat at any second and I also don't want to be near Wooyoung when he gets out of there.” She points at him and you laugh. 

Jongho has him in a chokehold and Yunho is trying to separate them while San desperately swims towards his girl that's still waiting for him near the edge of the pool. 

“Sure thing.” 

You pretend you don't feel Mingi's eyes on you as you move. 

This is not unusual. Whenever you all go to parties, hosted by someone inside of the friend group or not, you end up separating from Mingi. 

He does his thing. He's outgoing and he likes dancing while you enjoy conversation and drinking away at the rest of the party, occasionally making out with someone and calling it a night when your social battery runs out. 

So you hang out with Gyuri in the kitchen until the sun starts going down and when the last ray of it disappears you decide it's time to swim a bit before you're too tipsy for it to be safe. 

Grabbing your bag and greeting some new people you don't know at the door, you head up to the bathroom you are told by the host himself it's upstairs. 

When your tying up the strands of your swimsuit, the door slams open and you jump and cover yourself up with your hands because you're not able to finish the job, so the strands fall down and the only thing holding the top part of the fabric it's you. 

“What the fuck, Mingi?” 

Turning around, you're only able to look at him through the mirror. 

“Lock the door next time! What if it was somebody else?” 

“People usually knock!” 

“I didn't mean to scare you, it's the door’s fault,” he makes a fool of himself trying to prove it “See? I— let me help you with that,” he closes the door again and, this time, he locks it before taking a short step and grabbing the strands of your top “It's the second time this week I scare you like that, huh? I’m sorry, love.” He ties the strands together with a secure knot and his apology finally allows your tense muscles to relax. 

You remind yourself that there's no valid reason for you to be mad at him. You'll figure it out, he said it himself, and maybe today is not the day to do so. 

But he's not stepping away once he's finished, he's not even saying anything else before his hands grab your waist and his chest collides to your back. 

Looking at him through the mirror again, you silently ask him with your eyes what he thinks he's doing. He ignores you, bending down so the tip of his nose can trace the skin on the side of your neck. 

“I missed you,” his voice sounds like honey when he says it and you, once again, curse the ability he has to make you crumble “and you disappeared like an hour ago.” 

You let out a sigh. 

“I was in the kitchen, Mingi, not missing and we were in the same space for at least twenty minutes before that and like… forty minutes in a car, together.” You remind him and he frowns “Besides, you were with Ha… Haneul?” 

“Hanni,” he corrects and you huff out a whatever “and she was introducing me to some of her friends that are in the same major as me, just a year over.” 

“Cool.” 

He pecks your shoulder. You do your best to not melt completely into him and fix your hair in the mirror. 

“Y/N…” he starts and you hum in acknowledgement “I missed you.” 

It pisses you off for some reason. The mature thing to do is to let him know but the words that leave you are petty and laced with annoyance. 

“I’m sure you did, buddy.” 

He grins against your skin and you turn around to face him, eyebrow raising. 

“What's so amusing?” 

At your tone, he seems taken aback but his smile stays curving his lips upwards.

“I'm just really happy to have this moment with you,” he says, matter of factly, and you press your hands against his chest to regain some personal space. He doesn't budge an inch “What's going on?” 

He's such a guy sometimes. 

“You're here, kissing my neck, while a gorgeous girl who I'm sure is waiting for you downstairs is probably bragging to her friends about how she's going home with you tonight and—” 

“Y/N, I'm literally taking you home.” 

“I can easily take a car back— Mingi, seriously,” taking a deep breath, you stare at him with all the honesty you can gather “I don't want to do whatever this is if afterwards you're going downstairs to dance and flirt with Haneul or whatever her name is.” 

He looks like he wants to correct you on it again, so you level him with a daring glance. 

He keeps his mouth shut. 

“And I also don't want you to hurt her feelings if you tell her you can't leave with her tonight, so—” 

“I don't give a shit about her feelings, love.” 

“Mingi, don't say that!” 

“I don't! I wasn't flirting with her at all, either! Listen, it's…” he stops to chuckle for a few seconds “I mean, it's adorable that you're jealous but there's no reason for you to—” 

“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

It's the second time today you have said those exact words to him. The first time, you also felt your heart bang with such force against your rib cage but for a completely different reason. 

“I'm not one of the girls you fuck on the side when you're horny or bored out of your mind. Don't fucking treat me like one.” You warn and suddenly the image of you telling him that teaching him yesterday could mess you both up crosses your mind.  

“I'm not, Y/N! I'm just saying that you look adorable when you're—” 

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when we are not together, Mingi? I'm literally looking out for the girl!” 

“You don't even know her name, love.” 

“That's not the fucking point!” 

He finally takes a step away from you, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath, surely.

Now you're pissed off because he saw right through you and your words. 

That disgusting weight on your chest you felt back by the pool while you kept staring at him from the corner of your eye? Jealousy. 

Now that he brought it up, it makes sense. 

You hate it. 

You always hated being put in a position where you felt the need to compare yourself to others. Always hated how easy it is for anger to run through your blood and infiltrate every waking thought until it clouds your judgment. 

Because you shouldn't be angry. He just said he didn't care about her feelings. 

And yet, all you can think about is that he spent an hour with her instead of you. 

When he turns to you, there's a storm in his eyes and you just don't want to hear it tonight. 

“Save it, keep it, sleep on it and we'll talk tomorrow,” picking your dress from the spot on the floor it's been sitting all this time, you put the fabric on, take your bag and then unlock the door “I’m going home.” 

You don't give him the opportunity to say anything else before getting out of the bathroom but you do hear a groan when you're rushing downstairs. 

Yeosang and Yunho are just leaving the kitchen when you trip on the last step and the host jogs the few steps to you after laughing. 

“There you are, Y/N. Listen, there's some meat already grilled back there but we're—” 

“I'm actually going home, Yun,” you cut him short “I'm not feeling that well. My plan was to swim a little before leaving but I don't think I can do it.” 

“Did something happen or…?” 

What happened is coming downstairs as he asks. 

“Nope. Nothing, I just think I'm catching a cold or something. Thank you so much for inviting me though!” You hug your friend quickly, kissing his cheek before pulling away. 

“Always…” Yunho is very observant but, as you always do, he doesn't press you with questions about what's going on “He's taking you home?” Pointing behind you, you don't have to turn around to get what he means. 

“Ye—” 

“No. He's having a great time here, I don't want to get in the way,” you shrug “I'll just get an uber or something. Don't worry.” 

Yunho frowns slightly, eyes moving from your face to over your shoulder. 

Immature. Petty. Rude. 

You're sure that's the way you’re coming off right now. But feeling anger bubbling behind the smile you give Yunho, you think it's better they make their assumptions instead of actually seeing you upset. 

You move to hug Yeosang as well and he murmurs his farewell. When you turn around, Mingi is no longer there and you don’t spare a look towards the floor to ceiling glass windows that separate the living area from the backyard because you're sure he's sitting right beside that girl again. 

As he should be. 

You bolt for the door, giving your friends a tiny smile before going down the few steps and into the hill. It's already dark and you're sure no uber driver it's going up this hill for the tip you're able to offer them, so you figure your best shot is to go down and try to find a cab on the main street. 

The light from your phone illuminates your scowl as you walk. Past the bushes and the trees and the lines of parallel parked cars where Mingi’s Lexus is. 

You don't notice him there until he opens the backdoor to block your step. 

“Get in the car, I'm taking you home.” 

Closing the door he just opened to stop you, you shake your head. 

“I told you I'm getting a ride and—”

“I don't give a fuck. Get in the car.” And then he's opening his door and closing it so fast it gives you no room for debating. 

He's angry. Shit. 

You can't even see him through the tinted window to assess how much damage you have done, so you look down the hill one more time and wonder if making the run for it is worth it. 

When your phone lights up with a notification from Gyuri asking you if everything's okay and to make it home safe, you take it as a sign to round the car and get into the passenger side with an annoyed huff. 

The engine comes to life. You're not looking at him but at the trees until the leaves start showing the building lights in-between them and soon you're on the main road. 

You can't even ask him to turn the radio on. Stubborn, you refuse to let the anger inside of you dissipate in fear of shame taking over. It's better being angry than being ashamed, at least in this exact moment because you can practically feel Mingi's anger through the silent treatment. 

But you need to say something. The silence is suffocating and the street is surprisingly empty so you can't distract yourself with anything. 

“You shouldn't have bothered.” 

“I am bothered. You bothered me.” 

Clenching your jaw, you turn to him in disbelief “I told you to stay at the goddamn party so we can fix this tomorrow but I bothered you?”

“Did I stutter or something?” 

“No, you're just not making any fucking sense!” 

“Yeah, fuck this,” you see him look around, biting the inside of his cheek like he's holding his words in “We're fixing this right now.” 

The car makes a harsh turn and you have to grab the door for support. 

“Mingi!” He's not listening to you anymore. His hard gaze stays on the road, it feels like forever before he pulls into a somewhat empty parking lot and when the vehicle stops you go to open the door and get the fuck away from him before you two kill eachother inside this car. 

That's an exaggeration but with the way he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, you know your pride doesn't stand a chance. 

The summer breeze briefly hits your face before his hand is on yours, closing the door and preventing you from, once again, escaping the situation. 

Frustrated, you let out a loud groan “What the fuck is your problem?!” 

“I don't know, Y/N! But I'll tell you what your problem is, alright?” he chuckles. It's a humorless sound, his face painted in something you've never seen before “Your problem is that you assume you know what everyone else is feeling and you assume you're right. But intuition can only get you so far, love, so I need you to take your head out of your ass and think logically for a second.” 

Flabbergasted, you think you murmur something in your defense but he cuts you short. 

“No! You didn't let me get a word out back there so now you're going to shut up and listen,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes “You assume you're smarter than everyone else but you're actually so dumb. Dumb, you're acting very dumb and reckless, Y/N! That back there?” he points out of the window to nothing but you know what he means “Leaving— Scratch that. Leaving me and not giving me a chance to say anything back? Trying to go down that hill alone and in the dark? Stupid.” 

Staring back at him with watery eyes, you don't even know what to say back except a whispered excuse me?

“And usually I would beat up anyone who even dares to call you that but I guess all these years I've been wrong about you. Because if you were smart, you would've realized that Hanni means nothing to me and I mean nothing to her. There's nothing, she loves appearances and that's it.” 

You knew that already, but you're not giving your stance up. 

What even is your stance? Ah, right, he treated you like an envious no one back there and not like his best friend.  

“Yeah, I can tell you mean nothing to her from the whiny tone and the hug and the dragging you to meet her friends, Mingi.” Scoffing at the memory, your lips press into a thin line. 

“Well, she's a friendly girl!” 

“She didn't even say hi to me!” 

“So she doesn't like you, Y/N! Who cares!” you sure don't but, again, you just stare at him in disbelief and his open arms, palms to the sky “Do you care? Because I don't! And guess what? I doesn't fucking matter if she likes you or not or if she wants me or not because I like you!” 

What? 

“W-what?” 

“I like you! And I'll choose you over her and everyone else again and again and again until you notice but fuck it's so tiring. You're so fixated on why I let her drag me to her friends that you completely ignored me the rest of the time we were there and maybe if you looked at me more than once you would've realized that I was staring back at you the whole afternoon!” 

You let out an annoyed chuckle “So you were, Mingi.” 

“I was! I was trying to get you to look at me and notice how bad I wanted you to come over, rescue me from that boring ass conversation, grab my hand and claim your place right beside me because—” he pauses, resting a hand on the steering wheel and looking at you like he can't believe he has to spell this out for you “Because I want nothing more than for her and everyone to know I’m yours! I'm sure everyone already fucking knows too, except you. So yeah, sometimes, you're pretty fucking dumb for such a smart woman, Y/N.” 

Words escape you. They escape your mind, your reason and your pride shrinks until it disappears behind all the love you feel for Mingi. 

So that's what you are feeling. That's what you felt yesterday night when the tiredness couldn't drown out your thoughts of him and all he meant to you. 

Love, love, love. In all its forms, in all its possible scenarios. Your heart burns for it and you used to think that your hopeless romantic desires began and died with the movies you tend to see and the books you tend to read, that it was impossible to feel this way for anyone but there he is, chest heaving in the yellow interior light, waiting for you to say something back. 

“And I realize that before yesterday I showed no interest in you but believe me when I say that I—” 

Shakily, you interrupt him with whispered words, heart soaring and hands reaching out to cup his beautiful face “Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

When you kiss him, you make sure to pour out everything you couldn't say a minute ago into it. 

When he kisses you back with the same feeling, it crosses your mind that he already forgave you. 

And when he grabs your waist and drags you over the break handle and the transmission to collide his chest against yours and drag his tongue along the seam of your bottom lip, you think that, for the first time ever, you have to tell him he's right. 

You are stupid. Stupid for not realizing it sooner, stupid for confusing his longing stares for something platonic, stupid for thinking you could wait until tomorrow to tell him he has the right to see and be with anyone he wants to because this is it. 

This. The way your entire body comes alive when he sighs into your mouth and groans at the way your knee opens up his legs to make room for you on his side of the car and partially on his lap. The way his thumbs run through your cheeks and dry the tears you didn't even feel falling down. The way your heart jumps frantically and the way its beats could get confused by his because you're so close. 

Suddenly and unexpectedly, you can't recall a time Mingi didn't make you feel this exact same way. It's overwhelming, it expands through you like a fire and it knocks the remaining air out of your lungs enough for you to pull away and rest your forehead against his, shaky breaths tangling together and fingers grasping the neck of his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 

You sniffle, incapable of not feeling emotional over his confession and your realization “I'm sorry, Mingi. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for treating you that way I was… I behaved like…” 

“An ass.” He nods and you look at him with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. 

“Yeah,” you nod as well “I was an ass. A jealous ass.” 

“I know, love.” He whispers, eyes moving on your face before his lips are on yours again, briefly, sweetly, even if you don't feel like you deserve it “You tend to forget that I know you, hm? That I've seen you jealous before? You were an ass back then, too.” 

“Okay! Okay, stop calling me an ass, I get it.” 

“I'm sorry for waiting for you to do something when you didn't even… I guess you didn't know, right? The way I feel about you?” 

“I know now,” you whisper back, nudging your nose against his and then putting some distance so you can see him better “I feel the same way, by the way. We're shit at communicating, apparently, so I'll just tell you now that—” 

His lips are on yours again and he's giggling against them and shaking his head when he pulls away. Brown eyes search for yours and you're not sure what he's looking in them but he seems to find it, his muscles relaxing against the leather of his seat seconds later. 

So you kiss him again. And again and again until your back starts hurting and the steering wheel is pressed uncomfortably against it, forcing you to shift on his hold. 

“Let me… Wait.” He lets you go to pull his seat back and then closes his legs, forcing your knee to fall on his other side so you can fully straddle his lap “That's better. Now come here.” And then he’s grabbing the back of your neck and stealing your breath away again with another kiss.

The tension shifts right then. When he can fully feel you pressing up against him and when a noise escapes you once his hands drop and give your bare legs the attention you didn't even know you were craving. 

You thought a second ago that the sweet kisses would stop once you were both sated with the sweet aftermath of all the yelling and confessing but now you don't want it to stop. 

There's a lot to catch up on, a lot of missed time you need to make up for. 

You still want to make him feel good. The sparks from yesterday come alive again and soon you're yanking the strands of dark hair with your fingers and letting your mouth explore the skin of his neck. When you sink your teeth into his skin, he lets out the same noise he did the night before and you smile against the mark you just made. 

His lips find your shoulder and he breathes hard into it once your hips start moving at their own accord, slowly yet firmly, the pad of his fingers digging hard on your thighs until you break away from his neck to focus on his face again. 

“This goddamn dress, love.” 

Humming, you caress his red cheek with your lips “What about it?” 

“Been thinking about it all day…” 

“It worked, by the way.” 

“Woo?” 

“Mhm. Distracted him so he didn't throw me in the pool right away.” 

“And Jongho?” 

“Probably plotting against me right now.” 

He laughs softly into your skin “Probably.” 

Chuckling as well, you stop your movements and take in how he looks. Gone, a little too fucked up from just making out, lips swollen and eyes clouded with something you're getting too familiar with, too quick. 

“Worked on you, too.” 

He smiles and shrugs, letting his head drop into the headrest “You look good in everything, love. It doesn't really matter what you wear.” 

“Oh?” 

A firm hand trails up your body, slowly, from you leg to your hip, your waist to the side of your breasts and your until it cops your face with affection you never imagined you would experience. 

“I have always thought you are the most beautiful girl to ever exist.” 

This is it. 

Leaning into his touch, your lips connect to the palm of the hand holding you before you lean forward again. 

“I love you, Mingi.” 

He doesn't seem surprised by your confession and you're glad he knows. It doesn't really matter if its too soon, if you even mean it in a romantic way or not, the love you have for him transcends all labels. 

“I love you too, Y/N.”

And his does too. 

You kiss him until it hurts. 

He kisses you until you're gasping and your body is pleading for more. 

The both of you kiss each other until you're sure nothing else will replace the taste of one another, that it will linger forever even if your paths stop crossing at any point in time. 

It feels like you're trapped somewhere where the clock doesn't tick at all, where you can take your time exploring him with your mouth and your hands. 

And then it doesn't. 

The fabric of the dress starts bothering you, his tight shirt is suddenly not tight enough and the hardness steadily growing and pressing into your core is screaming for attention you can't give him with all these clothes on the way. 

He feels it too, fingers tracing the hem of your dress for the second time today and then they're under it, pulling at the fabric up until it bunches on your waist. 

You're still wearing the swimsuit he helped you put on earlier but it does little to conceal how affected you are. Looking down, you're not even ashamed of it when he follows your eyes and let his linger on the patch of wetness darkening the color of the bottoms. 

Still, he moves his hands upwards again and soon you're struggling to get the dress off, considering you're almost bumping the roof of the car when you straighten your spine to do so. 

“Wanna know what crossed my mind when I saw you in the bathroom?” 

When it's finally off, he immediately goes for it: His index tracing your collarbone and slowly descending, his short nail dragging against your skin before the rest of his fingers join, right in between your breasts, where there's fabric holding together the top of the swimsuit. 

He could easily tug on it if he wanted to. Instead, he ignores it and presses the heel of his hand against it, forcing you to lean back and almost bump into the steering wheel again. 

Unable to speak and panting, you only nod as a reply to his question. 

“How easy it would be to get on my knees and eat you out. I thought: What if I just…” Using his other hand to mess with the knots that keep the left bottom part of the swimsuit together, he demonstrates what he means without actually doing it, his eyes following the motions “Undo these, get on my knees and make her come all over my face?” 

“Fuck, Mingi…” 

“You would like that, wouldn't you?” He smirks without actually looking at you, the hand on your sternum traveling down against your skin before joining the other one, teasing the knots on the right. 

“Y-yes.” 

Maybe he can see it on your face, the sudden nervousness at the scene he painted before you, because he grabs one of your hands and brings them to his lips before drawing you close again “Please tell me your idiot ex-boyfriend ate you out when you were together.” 

Blush darkening, you make a face that gives the answer away. 

He groans “He's worse than I thought, fuck. Come here.” And without any warning, the back of his seat goes down until it touches the backseat with it.

Bracing yourself against his chest, because you went down with him as well, you huff out a surprised laugh “Go where?” 

“Up here. Let me teach you something tonight.” 

“Mingi…” 

“First, you need to make sure your hands are clean—” 

“Stop,” laughing, you interrupt his bad attempt at teasing you with the same words you used on him yesterday “There's no real support for me if we do this, where do I even—” 

“Knees here,” he motions the backseat and you could actually do it, but you would have to sit on his face instead of hovering like you imagine it would be more comfortable for him “hands here” he points to the grab handle and the headrest of the passenger seat and then straightens his spine a little, bringing his face closer to you so he can whisper right into your worn out lips “Turn the light off, I'll do the rest.” 

He looks like he's going to kiss you but then he falls back onto the seat with an excited smile curving his lips. 

What a tease. 

So of course you turn off the light and prop yourself up into the position he wants to. It's challenging, the car is not that small but it feels like it is and you very much would rather do this on a bed, spare his back and yours in the process, but excitement also runs through your body and your brain stops making up excuses for why should deny yourself of the pleasure of Mingi using his mouth to make you see stars the second his fingers undo the knots and peel the bottom half of your swimsuit off your body with ease. 

Lips trailing up your inner thighs and hands on each side of them, holding you in a secure position, Mingi doesn't tease you much before attaching his mouth to your heat and your subconsciousness flies out the window when his tongue flicks your clit. 

You look down at him and the sight of him enjoying himself has you beaming, the warmth spreads through you and the zeroes on your pussy. You don't even try to quiet down your moans, completely forgetting that you're in a public parking lot that can fill up at any second. 

But paying no mind to it either, Mingi also moans encouragingly into your wet folds when your hips move a little, chasing that high. 

He shifts his focus to your entrance, his tongue working itself into you and when you move your hips again at the feeling, his nose bumps into your clit in a way that has you grasping the headrest for support, right hand slipping down and resting on the window while your mouth hangs open and your eyes shut close. 

“Mingi… Baby, fuck, I'll—” he adds his thumb into his ministrations, pressing it against your clit the way he did yesterday and it only takes a few side to side movements for you to come undone on his mouth. 

And again, the intensity of your orgasm takes you by surprise. It's obviously not as intense as yesterday's but it still got you trembling so you want to curse him out for being that good at what he does. 

He eases you into it, slowing his mouth and you only register that it leaves you completely when your thighs are being kissed tenderly. 

Breathless, you look down at him and catch his smile before his teeth are sinking into your skin and forcing you to hiss out a laugh “Good?” 

“Yeah,” you smile, climbing down from your position and hovering over his lap in an attempt to not ruin his jeans. It's very obvious he enjoyed it too, his crotch holding the evidence tight and probably painfully against the fabric there “Really, really good.” 

You want to get on your knees and return the favor, make him squirm in pleasure, but the space is not working in your favor. So even though your thighs are hurting and sweat is dripping down your neck, you start working on the button and zipper of his jeans before he sits up.

He wants to say something, but your tongue is touching his and tasting yourself on it before he gets the chance. Clumsily, a little too far gone for your liking as well, you are able to get through the layers of clothes and let your hand hang over his dick “Are you gonna make me beg for it today?” 

“You don't have to, love.” 

“Beg?” you ask with a smile that he reciprocates “Or touch you?” your free hand brushes the hair out of his face, sliding down until you're propping his chin up with it, thumb tracing his bottom lip softly “Because I want to touch you. I want to make you feel so, so good, baby. Please.” 

He kisses the pad of your thumb and then takes it into his mouth, tongue caressing the tip of it until you're panting again and then nods. 

That's all the permission you need before taking him with your hand and pulling him out of his boxers. Taking your hand out briefly, you gather up saliva and spit right into it. 

Mingi lets out a noise at that. Interesting. 

Starting slow, you focus on his expression. Testing the waters, taking note of what he likes because, unlike him, you probably pushed to the corner of your mind every sexual conversation you two had before yesterday. You take a second to look down at it, the size is no surprise but your mouth waters at the image of you taking him into the heat of it. 

Maybe another time. For now, you focus on making him feel good with the little you can offer him in the enclosed space of his car. 

He mouths at your neck, choked up sobs vibrate through the skin on your collarbone and your top gets moved to the side so he can mark the side of your boobs as he pleases. It sets the fire inside of you alive again, your folds getting wetter when he rolls his tongue around your nipple and then throws his head back when you twist your hand in a motion he seems to really enjoy.

“Just like that, love.” 

To your delight, he's not quiet. He's loud, he's grabby, taking the opportunity to hold onto your ass and press down on the skin when you tease his slit and gather his precum on your fingers so you can spread it around his cock and your hand can slide easier. 

Movements get sloppy once he's close, he's no longer paying attention to you and you welcome it as a great sign, his hips bucking into your hand and he moves you forward until you're sitting on his lap again. 

The only thing preventing your pussy and his dick to touch being your hand. 

You glance at him and he looks back, probably the same idea popping up into his mind so you nod once.

The car moves as you two move around, to the back seat, the spine of his seat up and the entire thing moving forward to make space for him next to you, over you, on top of you once he kicks his jeans and boxers off to the floor. 

You reach out to him in a silent plea and he bends down to kiss you soft and moist and hot and breathy, sensually, with sweet sounds escaping both of you when you reach under his shirt and lift it up until he gets what you want. Discarding it with the rest of his clothes, your top follows it and the contentment you feel when his naked chest touches yours is unmeasurable. 

There's no real room to move around and there's not really any patience left within both of you, so when he apologizes when he moves his hips where he shouldn't and his tip brushes your entrance, you pull back from his bruising mouth. 

“Condom. Now.” 

He obliges right away, searching on his jeans for a minute or so and when he comes back he's smirking like he can't believe you “When I told you we needed to raincheck I didn't mean it to be like this. Bossy.” 

Even if you're punching him on his chest and giggling at his breathy words, you take the teasing with pride “You started it, Mingi!” 

Putting the condom on skilled and fast, he's soon resting his forehead against yours and kissing you softly again “I wanted you on my bed…” his lips trail down and the giggles die on your throat as he's kissing it, a moan escaping you “On your back or knees or riding me…” he continues in a whisper going down and down and down, giving your nipples attention before going back up and taking your mouth in his again “Making a mess on my cock…” 

He takes the opportunity to enter you slowly and you gasp at the stretch, wet enough so it doesn't hurt you but you're unfamiliar with him, with his size splitting you open deliciously. 

“F-fuck, Y/N.” Mingi leans back to watch you take him in and you whine again. Tilting your head back, you let him work himself in and you moan loudly when he almost bottoms out “Look at you…” 

You don't. You can't. He's pressing his thumb on your clit again to ease you through the stretch and it makes the heat pool in your belly like you didn't come in his mouth a few minutes ago. 

Slowly but surely it gets easier for him to rock his hips into you, mouth parting in pleasure when you remind yourself to look at him. His abdomen tenses when you run your nails against the skin there, softly, until you're detouring them into his back and sinking them in just enough to have him whining at the feeling. 

“Baby… Harder.” 

“Yeah?” 

Hips bucking up to meet his at a particularly hard trust, you reach up to him so he can rest his body weight on yours. Close like this, with the pace picking up, the knot on your lower half tightens and threatens to break. 

“You take me so well, love. Fuck, always knew you would,” you know he can feel your walls tightening around him at the praise, because he smiles and kisses you once before continuing “My pretty, pretty girl… Taking my cock so well…” he punctuates his words with the roll of his hips and you cry out, holding his face in between your hands, his eyes never leaving yours. 

In this position, his lower abdomen bumps into your clit and it's soon tipping you over the edge. 

“So good, so good, oh— Oh, God.” You're mumbling incoherently while Mingi keeps whispering sweet nothings and then the tension on your belly breaks. It takes three seconds of your walls pulsating around him for him to groan loudly into your mouth and come undone as well. 

The only thing you can hear is breathing, all you can feel is breathing. His against your chin, yours blowing on his hair when you rest your cheek on his temple. 

It takes a second to gather yourself again and when you do, you tilt your head back to give him a chaste kiss that he returns. 

“That was so good, baby.” You tell him and he smiles, nodding in agreement “I am sticking to the fucking seat though.” 

Mingi snorts and just like that the energy shifts back to the usual you. Only this time, you come back to it knowing that no one’s ever going to have you the way he does. 

He slips out of you, doing his thing with the condom and you sit up, looking through the windows and becoming aware of your surroundings for the first time since you got there. 

There's a car parked far away from you that's empty and the rest of the cars that were near it have left. You wonder how long this all took, because you lost track of time the second he told you he likes you. 

Chest still heaving and boxers now on, Mingi rests his back on the door and takes your hand in his “Is it dumb of me to assume you're my girlfriend now, love?” 

“Is it dumb that I assumed that's what I was when you said you like me?” 

“No,” he answers right away “not dumb at all.” 

Smiling, you nod “Then I'm your girlfriend, Mingi.” 

He beams at that and then he's crowding you again “Say it again.” 

“I'm your girlfriend.” you repeat, enunciating each word and giggling when he nuzzles his nose into the crimson on your cheek “I’m yours, baby.” 

Resting his forehead against yours, he hums in contempt “Good, because I've always been yours too.” 

“There's no way! You two... together? Guys… See, that would be me if I didn't saw it coming but I'm smarter and cooler than everyone here so I did.” 

Wooyoung's over the top reaction has Mingi throwing his head back in a silent laugh and you staring at the black haired guy, unamused and a little offended. 

It's two days later and, as usual, you're at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment hanging out. 

After putting your clothes back on and going for some well deserved food, Mingi took you home, kissed you goodnight and showed up the next day after class to break the news to your parents. 

Your mom almost cried. Your dad too, but for a completely different reason. 

In the end, they both agreed they saw it coming and when you told Mingi’s parents, they said the same thing and invited yours to have celebratory dinner without you. 

What happened in Mingi’s room after was worth missing dinner anyways. 

Mingi and you decided to break the news when most of the group showed up for movie night and you were nervous to see their reactions. 

But everyone seems unaffected by it. 

“I knew you guys liked each other the second I met you. Ask Gyuri, she agrees with me.” 

“Sadly, I do.” Wooyoung's ex looks at you from her spot by the door, where she's getting her shoes on. 

She winks at you and you fake a gasp, falling into your boyfriend's lap with an annoyed huff. 

“And no one told us?!” 

“Sorry, Y/N. We didn't want to get in the way.” Hwa is apologetic and Yeosang nods alongside Hongjoong but you gape at them like they betrayed your trust. 

“To be fair we didn't know till’ last week, love.” 

“She didn't know.” Gyuri corrects him and now you turn to her to give her the betrayed look “You were pining over it for six months already.” 

“I say it was more like nine but…” Hwa shrugs and sips his cup, giving the man holding you close a knowing smile. 

Oh, they definitely talked about it, huh? 

“Nine months and no one cared to fill me in, huh?” 

“I’m sure Mingi did—” 

“Wooyoung!” 

“Well I didn't notice.” Yunho interferes with a shrug and gives you a recomforting smile that doesn't work at all. 

San laughs “That's because you're a puppy that can't even tell when someone likes you.” 

“Am not!” 

Everyone, including you and Mingi, make a noise in agreement with San.  

“You're one to talk, though, leave the puppy alone.” Gyuri tells her ex's best friend and Wooyoung laughs at him when his smile drops. 

There's some story there you don't know. 

“Guys… Does someone like me right now? Be honest.” 

Yeosang is about to tell him something but Jongho interrupts. 

“Enough with the love talk! Can we start the movie?” But he's pressing play already, so the answer doesn't really matter. 

Gyuri laughs once and Wooyoung makes his way over to her to give her a hug that she enjoys for one second tops before pushing him away. 

“Enjoy everyone! I'm so happy for you two, by the way, not that these neanderthals would tell you to your face but I'm sure they're too.” 

“Thank you, Gyuri.” Mingi murmurs from behind you and you mouth a thank you as well before she leaves for the night. 

Something about her best friend having a boy crisis. 

You don't miss the way San’s eyes follow her until she leaves or the way he looks at Woo, something clearly worrying him. 

His best friend ignores him, though, so you confirm that might just be a little pissed off at him after all. 

“Tell her to text you what happens.” San asks Woo once she leaves and he rolls his eyes. 

“Mhm. I’ll tell her to stop calling us neanderthals too.” 

You smile “Well, she's right.” 

“Nuh-uh!” 

Jongho has to stop the movie and you see him sulk while everyone else is arguing. Some of them, like Hwa and Yeo, are siding with you and Gyuri. And the rest of them, like your boyfriend, are telling them off. 

When you turn to face him, his argument dies mid-sentence because he stops to smile at you. He takes your face in his hand and kisses you for the first time ever in front of everyone else. The group stops the argument to tease you both and you laugh into his mouth. 

A cushion is thrown at you and Jongho gets up to separate your faces before sitting beside you with a pout on his lips. 

“Can we watch the goddamn movie?!” 

You're the happiest you've ever been.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[cursedcola]

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde(here!), Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): The relationship is kinda toxic because it's Idia and I have to be realistic - but it gets better as you read. Just know that there are themes of miscommunication, self-sabotage, self-neglect, and insecurity in both Idia and the MC. I gave him some character growth at least and some maturation to the character. Note: All Ignihyde has is Idia so I gave his piece some extra love(super long. Like, this isn't even considered a headcannon set anymore. I really went overboard, I'm so sorry). Not proofread for grammar since I'm a bit lazy right now. Also, I haven't finished his chapter in game because I'm too weak (seriously wtf is up with these fights). I know the plot mostly but forgive me if there's an inaccuracy in a reference

Idia had it made during his youth - and deep down he knows it despite all his complaining. He knows that he won the introvert lottery. For three years he was able to live in a reclusive dorm room with no expectations beyond showing up to class (via a tablet of all things) and doing his work. Sure, he had to return home at some point and deal with that hot mess...but it was a displaced problem. One to be dealt with whenever. As a full-time 'student' he had junk food readily available, his brother down the hall, all the games and tech he needed, and somehow managed to land himself a loving partner despite his quirks.

The Ramshackle prefect - someone he initially wanted nothing to do with. Chaos seemed to follow their every move and Idia wanted no part of it. He never expected to come within a twenty-foot radius of them without force.

For the record, force indeed was used. Unfortunately they had a nasty habit of being nosy. Very 'main character complex' of them, if you ask him.

Yet it worked in his favor. Their stubbornness and intrusive ways wormed a place in his stone-cold heart. It fueled his ego much to everyone's chagrin. Out of everyone - princes, busy bodies, future doctors and the literal fish mafia - you picked him. The noob cursed to lose all his 50/50s and rot in bluelight. Idia seriously questions your tastes, but hey! He beat the normies and that's all he cares about.

Well, at least that's how he phrases it. Underneath that god-tier ego is an inferiority complex that he tries to keep down for your benefit. Something about your mood dipping by 20% when he talks trash? He'd need Ortho to run another test on that. Just to be safe.

Unfortunately, he still can't reign it in all the way. Victories can be temporary and who's he to say that your relationship isn't a one-shot story? Nothing worthwhile is ever that simple. Good games always get sequels...so the question lingers, will he still be a main character in yours?

When Idia graduates, he fully expects for you to walk out of his life. He returns to S.T.Y.X and leaves NRC to fulfill his role back home. You have no reason to care about him when he's no longer nearby. Life isn't like an isekai manga. You won't wait for him - no, you'll get a taste for how life is without him and indulge. Slowly you'll stop texting him, calling him, playing games with him - well, he'll do it first! He refuses to be the second male lead that gets dumped when you finally find your prince. That's for chumps.

He'd rather you just up and leave this world! At least then he wouldn't be in this pitiful situation...but he's seen that crow's shitty work ethic. You're stuck.

Idia's scared to say the least. One could say that his self sabotage was in action before your relationship even began. Old habits die hard, and no one could stop his spiral. Not even Ortho. Idia left his little brother behind as well. The boy sent him off with a smile, promising to take good care of you in his big brother's stead. After all, you both were in the same year.

It's not surprising that he reverts to his old ways. A hard battle is even more difficult to win when you don't have the motivation to fight it in the first place. Idia loses his drive...and in turn his already negative outlook grows worse.

Needless to say, Idia ... neglects you.

Your relationship has always been more of an 80:20 than a 50:50 - with him taking more than he ever gave. You always set aside time and made sure he was comfortable. You respected his anxieties and dealt with his temper on more than one occasion. His jealousy. You indulged his hobbies, always tried to include him in on activities with your friends (even though he rarely ever accepted), wore your heart on your sleeve and always took the lead. You were always too good to be true.

Two years. Two years with him at S.T.Y.X and you at NRC. Not a day passed where you did not text him or call. Not a week passed where you did not video-chat or play a game with him. You made time. You checked in. Told him stories about your life an friends. Ortho often would send him recordings and clips as well. During vacations you'd make plans to see him and always invited him to come to campus for events. Even though he never accepted, you still always offered. Throughout it all he kept you at a distance, yet unable to fully let you go at the same time. He needed you to do it. He needed his inner thoughts to shut up and to have someone else to blame.

You. You. You. When would you stop? Why weren't you tired of him yet? On a good day he can be frustrating, so how were you not mad when he was physically trying to make you hate him? Were you waiting until graduation to drop the bomb on him that you'd leave for good? On another's arm or back to your world?

Imagine his surprise when neither happened. On the dawn after Ortho's graduation ceremony, Idia came out of his cave to greet him at the S.T.Y.X entrance. He would no longer be as lonely, and perhaps without Ortho around, you'd finally put distance between yourself and the Shroud family. All would be as it should.

He did not expect to see you at the gate as well. Ortho flew up to him with a bright grin and twirl in the air - babbling on and on about how he arranged for you to come work as a research assistant in the lab. After all, you had an extensive knowledge of blot as well as field experience. It was a win-win situation for the company and your relationship! You could now be a happy family! Isn't that just amazing?

"It was extremally difficult to keep this a surprise!...Brother?" Ortho halts mid-rant, his receptors going haywire, "Brother, your heartrate has increased and your temperature is dropping below stable levels. You must regulate your breathing pattern!"

White noise rang like television static in Idia's eardrum. He watched you thank one of the guards while handing off your suitcase. His pulse increased and mind went under water. How long had it been since you were together longterm? You looked different. More mature. Meanwhile he was still the same - physically and emotionally. Still the pasty shut-in with dark eyebags and energy drinks running through his veins instead of blood. He wasn't used to seeing you in person. How should he react? Should he hug you? Do you want him to? That's weird. He hasn't held you in a while - yeah, it would be creepy. Does he even deserve to? What made you want to work here anyways?! You could have gone anywhere. ANYWHERE. - Shit. You're looking this way. What should he do?! aHH! You're walking over!

He does what he knows best. Shuts down. You receive a disgraceful greeting. No affection. Not even a smile.

Idia's brow furrows at your approach and he buries his hands deep into the pockets of his lab-coat. When you lean in to kiss his cheek, he catches you by the forearms and holds you in place. "Since when were you going to work here? You do remember what S.T.Y.X is in charge of, right? Once you're in, there's no going back. Are you a masochist or something?" Ah. There goes the heartfelt reunion. Being home did bring out a more harsh and cut-throat side of him after all.

Despite his poor treatment, you don't react upset. Now the relationship has now become something of a 90 : 10. He knows you have no reason to come here other than for Ortho and himself. You really are an Otome protagonist, jeez. Willing to do all that for him? Giving up your future and friends just to be at his side...dammit. Don't give him hopes! Don't undo all the work he's put in to survive without you! Stop welcoming misfortune for his sake! You're stupid. Stupidstupidstupid .... man he loves that stupidity. Gods he missed it.

Shit. Not even an hour in and he's reverting.

You don't realize it but you're heading straight for a bad ending. He does though. He's read the guides and played more visual novels than he can count. As a pro, he needs to steer you off this villainy ending and towards the true route.

After all ... what was that one saying? Heroes will sacrifice you for the world, while Villans will sacrifice the world for you? He heard it from some normie bookworm...but it seems fitting right now.

Idia's no hero. He'll destroy his world if it means you get to be happy. Not that he had much of one to begin with. You...gave him a life beyond fiction while all he's offered is a curse. Literally and figuratively. Its time he returned what he so greedily stole. He'll make you move on through force.

The months are slow and difficult. Despite being nearby, Idia only ever seeks you out for work-related reasons. Even then he is very cold and dismissive . He also does not turn you away when you take the initiative. Just like old times, you linger around his room and prod him for attention. He wants you to leave, but also doesn't want to be cruel. So, he maintains this impassive position and lets you do whatever you please. Yet the situation is scarily similar to how you both were at NRC. Except instead of using his past as an excuse, he now uses your work dynamic to enable his noncommittal ways.

There really is only so much one person can take. After Idia left NRC, you pinned his switch in behavior on the lifestyle change and distance separating you both. You knew Idia would be someone you had to work hard for when you started to date, and so the situation was one you viewed as an obstacle to overcome. The solution was simple - you would go to S.T.Y.X and prove to him that you were willing to make it work. Without the physical distance, you hoped that he would let you in again. That you wouldn't have to hear reassurances from his brother anymore, and instead hear his feelings from his own mouth instead. Then you both could work out the details together in time. Seeing him reject you at first was discouraging, but you did not let it rest there. Perhaps he needed time and to get used to your presence in his home. After all, these were new waters. You would be patient. You would prove yourself capable.

Life becomes a time capsule. As the days went by, a bitter feeling grew in your stomach. Why wouldn't he laugh? Why wouldn't he look in your eyes anymore? Why is he retreating even further? What were you doing wrong? How could you fix it? Is it you? Your performance in the lab is outstanding according to your supervisors, and your work friends seem to find you agreeable enough. Can't he see that you've adjusted well and are happy here? There's nothing to worry about. How else can you prove yourself?

These thoughts plague your mind to an extend that Ortho felt the need to preform psychiatric evaluation. You dismissed his concerns with a long list of things about your new home that make you happy - including him. It pacifies his panic and somehow mitigates your own as well.

Until one fateful day, when you decided to take your lunch early and overheard a conversation between two senior S.T.Y.X employees

"Isn't the boss' partner kind of pitiful?" One technician spoke in a hush whisper, taking a bite from her salad, "He doesn't give them the time of day. I can't believe they've stuck around this long. Screw the job, I would have been out after the first week," "Shhh! Quit gossiping, it's bad. Especially about the one who pays our bills," The other scolds. "I know....but isn't it just sad. They're clearly being taken advantage of. I can't help but feel sorry" "It's not just you...to tell the truth, I had no clue Director Idia had a partner up until recently. If anything, I thought he disliked Assistant MC and kept them around for Director Ortho's sake. Imagine my shock..." They both snicker at the notion. "Yeah. I give them a few more months...maybe a year. Despite being smart in the lab, they clearly can't read the room:

It was the last straw. Like ice water being dunked over your head after a hot shower. The lunch pale in your grasp suddenly felt like it weighed ten times heavier, and a cold sweat dripped down your back. They were right. He didn't want you here. It was time to move on or else you'll just be living out an endless loop. Nothing has changed since your youth aside from the location. No matter how long you wait, no matter how much effort and time you offer ... the relationship is doomed to fail. You gave him everything...and it was time to stop waiting. To stop expecting and hoping. Time to accept reality.

Your lunch goes discarded in a nearby bin and your shift abandoned. You would not work another second for S.T.Y.X despite the facility not being the source of your anguish. Your shoes clack loudly against the tile flooring as you speed-walk to Idia's office, where he was lazily reviewing data on a recent experiment. His phone set off to the side with some automated gatcha daily playing.

You use your 'special' pass (curtesy of ortho) to get in. The metal door swings out as you march inside and turn off his screen without asking.

"H-h'-hey! What are you-" He shrieks and turns in his chair. "We need to talk" "Can't it wait until later? I'm busy working, if you can't tell" "No" Your tone is demanding. Definite. You all but yank the badge from around your neck and drop it in his lap. In that motion, he knew. Your eyes scrunch tight and teeth grind together. He was prepared for this. For you to lash out and yell at him for your suffering. Make him the bad guy in your story and finally beat the game for good. Not for you to deflate. Not for the glassy, disappointed stain on your eyes. Or the shallow breaths as you calm yourself - not letting your emotions frighten him like a spooked cat. "I'm quitting," "S.T.Y.X? You know you can't just quit. There's a process," He refutes, lazily pushing his chair back with an anxious fidget. "Not just S.T.Y.X...I'm quitting us. I can't do this anymore," "Oh. Alright. Let me get the paperwork," "Alright?" You whisper, gaping at him "...just alright? That's all you have to say to me? Not even 'why' ?" He pauses typing on a holographic keyboard, cocking an eyebrow at the question. "What? You want me to beg you to stay or something like that? We're not in an anime," His words die out at the end, and had it not been for your disbelief you would have caught the note of sadness in them, "you want to go? Then go. I warned you about this place" "No...you warned me about the facility. It's not the facility I have a problem with. I actually like it here" "So it's me then, huh? I warned you about that too," He grumbles and continues to type, "I'm not whatever it is that you saw in me. It's your fault for sticking it out this long. I knew this was how it would end from the start" A silence follows aside from the occasional noise from his computer. That's it. The nail in the coffin. You finally realized the truth. He was no good for you. He couldn't be 'fixed'. With an approving chime, he finally has all the departure paperwork pulled up for you to sign. "Alright. Sign these and I'll get you an escort," He holds out a tablet in pen without looking from his computer. You don't take it. "Hello? I said - " he turns to face you, irritated "....here" Silent tears stream down your cheeks and pool at the tip of your chin, dripping to the tile below. Wide eyes lock in his general direction. Your hands tremble slightly at your sides, as if your mind was thousands of miles away. His heart breaks. "You never even gave us a chance, did you?" He says nothing. "It wasn't about 'making it work' for you. It was always a matter of 'how long'. You've been waiting for me to leave you, all this time?" It wasn't a question. "All this time, I've been trying to prove myself. I've been thinking that I did something wrong...that I needed to be better" the word stings your tongue and seems to strike him, " but I was never even close to enough" we were never enough

With languid movements, you take the pen from him and sign the papers. You would not hide your sadness. Your grief. Your pain for a relationship that was never actually one. For a battle that only had one party fighting.

He lets you go, the metal door swinging shut and rattling him to his core. Idia's hands shake as he tries to return to his work. They tremble over the holographic keyboard, making his blue nails look like moving neon streaks in the air.

He had always thought you ere just being kind. That your self-sacrificing nature was natural, and that someone else was more deserving of it. He failed to consider the possibility that all the things you did...you did for him alone. You did out of the same anxieties and fears he felt.

In a way, you both were at fault. He led himself down a self-fulfilling prophecy - letting his anxieties and what-ifs become reality. And you? You thought everything could be fixed with time. With sacrifice. That eventually he would grow. You both were plants, one overwatered and the other left parched in the sun.

He did get one thing right. This was defiantly a bad end. Just not in the way he originally believed...

Somehow, life becomes worse than before you arrived at S.T.Y.X. At least when you were around, people did see him more out of his office or room. Seeing him revert to his previous ways without so much as an inkling of sadness for losing you....yeah, it did not look good. Worse than people not even knowing you were his partner at first. After your departure, rumors began to spread that you had finally snapped. The pity felt for you morphed into judgement towards his character. Others saw him as a heartless recluse, and the pity was extended to Ortho of all things. If Idia could toss out a loyal partner of years, what about the little robot? Perhaps despite all the gossip, the others at S.T.Y.X did not fully believe that he would let you leave so easily. That he wasn't as detached as the Shroud name dictates.

Little do they know that he's become a shadow of his former self. He can't even act self-depreciative. Pleasantries don't hit like they used to. Having you at a distance...well, was still considered as being with you. Now that you're never coming back, it's harder. Everything reminds him of you. Your favorite snacks are still stocked in the cafeteria, and there are blankets in his room that still have your scent. Occasionally a file will pop up with your work in it while he's doing reviews...and then there's Ortho. When you left, he was crushed. He pestered Idia for days - the security cameras giving him full knowledge of what happened. Yet no matter what the robot said about the situation, Idia didn't want to hear it. Eventually he took away Ortho's access data to his personal spaces.

That didn't stop the bot from talking through the door and spamming his brother's inboxes. Despite cutting off contact with his big brother, you still spoke to Ortho regularly. He refused to let his big brother lose all connection to you, and updated him on your well-being. Regardless of what Idia said, hearing about you made a difference. At first it increases his anxiety and drops his mood...but every time, like a scheduled delay, his serotonin levels will spike. Be it from a clip of your voice, a picture, or even just the mention of your name.

"Brother! I just finished a call with MC. Today they decided to adopt a cat! Would you like to see a picture?" His computer beeps with an incoming missive. Idia clicks it, and the screen displays a photo of you with a small white kitten in your arms. "They've decided to name it Grimm Jr. From what I heard, the predecessor was not pleased to be 'replaced,' as he calls it" Ortho laughs from the other side of the door, but Idia is too focused on the image on his screen. The curve in your smile and the way you gently cradle the kitten. You seem...happy. Much better than how he is doing. He fails to hear the door beep, granting access, neither the bot fly up next to him to look at the picture. "Big brother, why don't you apologize to MC? They would listen," Idia startles, clutching his chest as his hair flairs cherry red for a brief moment. He swivels in his chair and closes the image quickly. "I'm not apologizing for nothing. It's not like I miss them or anything. My life's great without having a normie relationship to manage" "Your body language suggests that you are lying" Ortho states, his eyes squinting cheekily. Idia hunches over, glaring at his keyboard and fiddling with his sleeves, "It's not like they'd want to see me anyways. I blew it. Only an idiot would forgive what I did," "That's not true! MC loves you!" Idia glares at him from the corner of his eye, "Yeah? They look pretty happy without me. They were miserable here" "Because you purposefully made them miserable! You are very smart brother, but even I understand emotions better than you and I am an artificial lifeform!" "Then what should I do, Ortho? Go beg them to take me back like some cringe sitcom?!" "Yes!" Idia blanches at the thought, but doesn't entirely dismiss it. Ortho glares holes into his head, causing Idia to shrink into his chair. "You are always afraid, brother. You lost them to your fears once...do you want to regret that? Are you really satisfied with pictures and stories? Why deny yourself wonderful things! We are not trapped anymore!"

Ortho leaves him with one piece of information - an apartment address. He sends it to all of Idia's emails and even somehow makes it the background of his tablet. He can't change it or take it off.

He stares at it long and hard. Searches the place up and even uses virtual reality to scope out the building. While perhaps a bit creepy...he hacks the security cameras and watches feed of you coming and going over the past moths. Some days you look perfectly well, and others you look worse for wear. If he went...would you even want to see him? Would you let him in? Kick him out? Is he willing to even try? What if you already moved on...no, Ortho wouldn't set him up for that if he knew you were happy with someone else.

Idia leaves S.T.Y.X for the first time in months. His request for leave shocks other employees. Yet he's gone the moment it's approved, afraid that he'll lose his edge if he thinks too long on it.

He finds himself at the door of a middle-class apartment in the Kingdom of Roses. Second floor, third door to the left, just like he memorized. He knows its yours from the ribbons tied on the doorknob, themed after one of your favorite animes. One he introduced to you...

In his hands is a small box of candies - a peace offering, just in case you want to kill him on sight.

His boney knuckles wrap around the doorknocker and thwack it three times. Sweat pools in his palms and he jolts away. The seconds like hours as his painted nails dig crescents into his palms. The door opens. "Hi, how can I -" You pause mid-sentence, your mouth going dry. Grimm Jr. snuggled in one of your arms while the other holds the door open, "I-idia?" "T-that's my name," He grimaces, looking anywhere but at you. "What are you doing here?" His tongue feels heavy and the tips of his hair fade to a pale orange. He studders and fumbles with the box of candies, holding them out to you with a grimace. "I wanted to see you...urk. I hope that's not weird! Can ... I come in?" You eye the box in thought, before reaching out to take it and opening the door further. It was a start.

You hear him out - through the stuttering and the self-depreciative comments that he hastily retracts. This isn't just about him. It's about you and everything else in-between. Shockingly enough, you agree to give him a second chance. It wasn't entirely his fault after all ... and you did still love him. Although now there are ground rules. You would not be returning to S.T.Y.X. You've finally created a stable home for yourself and have a life in this new city. You have a career, friends, and a life that doesn't include him. You need the individuality. You would no longer try to morph yourself for him or be placid. If he wanted to spend time with you, he would have to leave S.T.Y.X and come stay at your apartment. You would no longer be the one always reaching out, he would have to start showing initiative and making time for you. You would see how things progress from that point. He was not a child, and you would not beg for basic needs to be met anymore. Words would not be enough, you need actions. It was time for 50 : 50.

Weirdly enough, he agrees to all your rules without a single complaint. Not a normie comment or slang filled statement leaves his lips. He's still that nerdy dork you fell in love with at heart, but these 'normie' things? Well, Idia's accepted that he wants those things. As much as it is difficult for him to admit, they only grossed him out so much before because he always believed they were unattainable

He's true to his word. He calls you every day, first thing when he wakes up (in the late afternoon. He still is a hermit at heart). At first it made him anxious, and he'd hover over the contact for fifteen minutes before dialing. Yet it soon became easy, with his heart only beating fast from happiness. He takes the weekends off and comes to spend them at your apartments. Sometimes he brings Ortho and it becomes a sleepover with games - and at some point you start inviting your other heartslabyul friends from back in the day too. Eventually you do come around the compound again. It's awkward to say the least, considering how you left. Yet at the same time, it's a breath of fresh air. The others are shocked to see him out of his office, and he eats IN THE CAFETERIA. Woah. He calls you by your name and not 'assistant' when in public. Homie scares some people. That's what he does. He gives you a special watch for your anniversary. It's paired with on he has and solar powered, so you can contact him at any time. As a natural born worry-wart, he can't help but worry for your safety. Since watching the appartment CCTV is 'creepy,' he just asks that you wear the watch if you're going out anywhere. It won't die and with the click of a button he'll be alerted. In exchange, you can use it to contact him whenever you want. He'll always get back instantly since it might be an emergency. The watch is also directly linked to Ortho's system, so you can contact him as well. Who needs Cortana when you have Ortho?

For the first time, Idia feels secure in a relationship. He can't count Ortho since the boy is technically his creation. Ortho would always be there...and now? Idia's confident you will too.

Does that mean you should get married? Isn't that the next step in all this?

Well....shit (pleasant connotation)

He never would have tinkered with this idea before considering his 'family'. Who the hell in their right mind would marry a Shroud? A fool. Are you a fool? Maybe.

It's late evening on a Sunday night when you're both walking home together after hitting up a local diner for hearty eats. Wow. Look at him. On a date. So weird...pshh.

Idia walks at your side, forcing his pace to match yours. Not everyone is graced with his long stickman legs. His hands are buried deep in his hoodie and his posture is slightly slouched. Classic scary dog privilege for a nighttime walk - well, if his hair didn't scream valentine's day pink to the world. Although no one else has flaming hair other than the Shroud family, so he doubts anyone would interrupt.

You decide to take the long path home and through a nearby park. The night was still young for nightowls such as yourselves, and fresh air was always crisp at this hour.

Along that path you decide to stop at a cement bench by some vending machines and chill out for a bit. Despite having just ate, Idia gets you each a can of coffee.

He'd be leaving to go back to S.T.Y.X tomorrow. Like he does every Sunday. His gaze drifts to the watch on your wrist and thinks about adding some new features - maybe video chat? So he can see you throughout the day. He wonders what you'll be up to while he's stuck in the lab. Maybe you'll go shopping, or play a new game. Maybe you'll try out a new recipe or take Grimm Jr. out to play. He wishes he could see you during the week.

Ah. You're talking. He should probably tune in or you'll get mad at him. Why's it so hard to focus? He hasn't felt this uneasy in a while...

Why is he having these kinds of thoughts? It's weird.

"You okay? You seem a little spaced," You pull him from his thoughts, a concerned crease wrinkling your temple. "Eh. It's nothing. Just not looking forward to the week," he chuckles weakly. "I know that feeling. It's always a bummer when you dip. Not to sound clingy or anything" His golden hues spark for a moment, a pale pink dusting his cheeks as he whips his head to look at you.

"W-wait - really? I was just thinking the same thing...." "You were?" "Yeah. It's...kind of weird without you. Everything's emptier. Wow. That was pretty cringe. Sorry." He grimaces, internally screaming and knowing that this was going to replay when he tried to sleep later. You tilt your head at him, a slight frown on the cusp of your lip. Something tickles at his fingers and he looks down to see you lace your hand with his. "I miss you too," your words are soft. Genuine. He feels his neck grow hot, the pink glow radiating off him betraying him. Idia looks between your interlaced fingers and the drink in his hand. There...wouldn't ever be a 'right' time for this. Would there? You've waited long enough. He pulls his hand away and pops the soda tab off with deft hands.

"Hey..." he twiddles with the soda tab in his hands, "on a scale of 1-10, how are my odds of getting a yes?" "A 'yes' to what?" "To this, " he sighs through his nose, holding the tab out towards you with a shaking hand, "will you marry me?"

{A soda tab from canned coffee. Not the most charming offering, and it barely fits around your pinky finger. Yet, Idia's always been impulsive at his core. Had he not acted in the moment, he likely would have ran countless possibilities over and over in his mind. While not your forever ring, the tab will remain a sentimental piece}

{Idia is not a man with a keen eye fore jewelry - but he knows quality. Combine his eye for perfection with his craftsmanship and behold - a ring made from purified blot. The center gem is a piece of magestone in it's most refined state. The band is titanium and there are small sapphires along the molding. Since he would be wearing a matching band, Idia decided to keep the design simple. He prefers functionality over all. Yet he does want you to feel proud of his handiwork, so he includes vintage molding on your band only. He wears a smooth black band on his ring finger, and never removes it}

[martiniblues]

MOVE (YOU GOT THE RHYTHM) lee chan

pairing dancer!chan x dancer!reader

synopsis you had been paired with chan for a new piece he had choreographed for an upcoming stage. as tensions between you grew, private rehearsals began to blur the line between professionalism and desire.

genre this is so self indulgent as a dancer so lol, lots of tension and quite suggestive but no explicit smut, slight miscommunication, lots of fluff towards the end.

wc 1k

song move by taemin

“okay nice work everyone, we will pick back up tomorrow.” chan shut off the music and turned towards the rest of the dancers scattered about the studio. you leaned with your back to the wall length mirror, nursing your water bottle like a small child coming back inside from a playdate. he looked at you with a small smile, a part of him wishing the flushed look on your face had been due to his own antics and not the heat of the room.

as the dancers bid their goodbyes, you stayed motionless zoning out onto a specific spot on the floor. a bright orange strip of tape, positioned to represent the center of the room suddenly wasn't just a measly piece of tape. it represented where you and chan had been only minutes prior, chest to back, his hand splayed across your stomach, your face turned towards his, swaying effortlessly with the vibrations coming through the speakers.

in your time dancing with chan you couldn't help but feel gravitated towards him. not only did his professionalism the second the music began have you holding your breath and begging the swarm of butterflies in your stomach to calm down, chan also had a side to him that most of the dancers never saw.

since you had been selected as his main partner for the performance, one on one practices were common at the beginning of his creation. while in group rehearsals chan took the role as teacher more than serious, when it was just the two of you in the large studio, he seemed to let go and just be chan.

"are you okay?" you suddenly choked on your water, the sight of chan catching you off guard and slightly embarrassed. "yeah-yeah im fine just a little tired you know." you spit out as you regained your breath and tried to hide your now reddened face.

"you sure? you've seen a bit off today." his face tilted like a confused cat, trying to read your mind and ease you of any doubts or frustrations. he just couldn't let you know that, though.

you scoffed, misreading his words as an insult. "okay, i know i slipped up at the beginning that one time but that doesn't mean im off." you felt embarrassed to say the least. these feelings for chan you kept bottled up caused you more agitation than anything at this point.

from the second you saw his photo on your screen you found chan attractive, but then again who didn't? it wasn't until your late night rehearsals with just the two of you where you began to be attracted to him.

the way his brows would scrunch at your stupid jokes or the way his eyes shifted into a darker hue when focused. noticing the way he tapped his hand on his thigh when picking up counts or the way his hand always hovered on your skin when dancing. never fully on you but radiated just enough heat to let you know he was there. you began picking up on the small things that made him who he was.

"that's not what i meant." chan watched as you made your way to your things across the room, fighting the urge to reach out and stop you. he knew how amazing of a dancer you were, familiar with the way you managed to have your own eye-catching style while still maintaining sync and rhythm.

those being some of the reasons he chose you as his partner in the beginning with no hesitation. as time with you passed though, he began accepting the more taboo reasons he wanted you to himself on stage.

you reached down, checking the time on your phone before reaching for your bag. you've got to move on, you thought before the feeling of a hand on your shoulder halted your exit.

"you know that's not what i meant, right? you were perfect." he quickly let out, eyes widening at the sudden confession he hadn't meant to let slip. you mirrored his shocked expression, expecting criticism and not a heartfelt compliment.

his hand still remained on your shoulder, all of its weight searing into your skin. "thank you, chan." you thanked him, unsure of what to do. you didn't want to leave, the atmosphere sending you back to those practices you loved so much.

if it wasn't for his arm growing tired, chan would have never noticed his hand was still resting on your bare shoulder. it felt so natural, like his hand longed to be there, needed to be there. he quickly let it fall though, laughing lightly to try and ease the ever present awkwardness in the air.

"if you still feel a bit uneasy though..." his words made your eyes lock with his dark ones, the same irises that somehow grew darker despite them being nearly black. "we could practice a bit more, just the two of us."

your heart threatened to spill from your throat. you wanted chan more than anything, but the thought of being in here alone with him after so long had you worrying for your own well-being.

"you sure? i don't wanna keep you from your rest or anything. my place has enough space for me to practice-"

"i know that if we don't practice now, you will be the one not getting any sleep from your mind racing. i'll be fine i promise." he cut you off in the sweetest tone you had ever heard. if you hadn't been so entranced with his face you could have sworn honey dripped from his lips.

"okay." you agreed, dropping your things back to their spot on the floor and moved to the center of the room. silence enveloped the room as chan reconnected his phone to the speakers, the only sound being your sneakers squeaking against the wooden floors.

chan played the last thirty seconds of the song so that it would restart with him beside you. as you two waited for the song to replay, you swore you could hear his breathing grow heavier as your body moved close to his to settle into your beginning position. his chest pressed into your back, causing you to feel his heart beat with yours, but this time it seemed to double.

practice had ended ages ago, there's no way he could still be worked up on adrenaline. there had to be some logical explanation as to why his heart felt like it was racing with yours.

there wasn't much time to ponder on your thoughts as the music began, your muscle memory kicking in. chan's body moved from yours, creating space for the two of you to perform as you usually did. but just as you missed his touch, you resented it even more every time he came close to you. no matter if it was for a second or a whole eight count, your body erupted into flames.

you thought of yourself as a level headed, sensible human being but all of those morals flew out the window when chan was in your radius.

the bridge of the song seemed to fade into a dull buzz as chan made eye contact with you, drawing closer. this is nothing different from what you always do, you tried to ease your heart trying to fly out of your chest. you and chan were doing the choreography as you practiced, but for some reason this felt different.

it was as if he was purposely pulling you closer and looking into your eyes for longer than he needed to. your arm wrapped around his shoulders ready for the next move, but instead of the usual dip, chan's hands gripped your waist and pulled your body as close to his as he could.your breath hitched, searching his face as to why he suddenly decided to change the choreography.

"can i please." his words came out breathless and if it hadn't been for your proximity you wouldn't had heard him at all. his eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips, licking his own from how hard he was breathing.

"yes please." the words barely left your words before his lips smashed against yours just as the final chorus echoed in the room. your stiff muscles relaxed at the feeling of his soft lips, hands instinctively running though his hair and rubbing against his back.

he waisted no time, using you taking a deep breath as an opportunity to sneak his warm tongue in between your lips and meet your own. you moaned at the feeling, not believing this was even happening. chan groaned as your nails scrapped against his shoulders, wishing to be ridded of his stupid t-shirt and feel you against him for real.

as time moved on you grew more and more feverish. your kisses grew from slow and sensual to rushed and sloppy. the need you and chan had kept bottled up began to pool at your feet and quickly made its way around you, binding the two of you together.

one of chan's hands slipped from your waist and made its way up your front as the other ventured lower to grope your ass. you squealed from shock, a small smirk playing at his lips as a result.

the song had ended, leaving only the sound of your lips smacking and the moans that rumbled in chan's throat to fill the room. one particularly loud moan caused you to snap back, a wave of embarrassment taking over you at how venerable you'd been.

"been wanting to do that for months." chan smiled softly, looking at you with nothing but admiration. you just pushed his chest jokingly, not knowing how to swallow this realization. he was quick to close the distance, now following you with his chest to your back yet again. his hands now firmly pressing into the skin of your stomach.

you turned in his grip, being met with a blushing chan pulling a suspicious smirk on his lips. the teasing glint in his eyes caught yours in an intense staring contest.

"so what was that about having room at your place to practice?"

my first svt fic!!! i know i have been gone for quite some time but i have been working all summer and have hardly had any time to write, but i have so many drafts and works coming your way soon! this was just something i came up with off the top of my head and hardly proof-read so don't mind any mistakes. let me know if you want more svt works<33

[bogleech]

Guess I have to make a main thread about this. Someone decided to fight with me in the notes on this post just yesterday about Gaza and made select responses of mine into a callout thread here, where they say my anger towards the IDF is all a cover for antisemitism. This didn't make any sense, because they said they were also against the IDF killing civilians, and I repeatedly said that Jewish people aren't to blame for the IDF or represented by the IDF in any way, putting us supposedly both on the exact same page. What gerry leaves out of their own screenshots, and I'd actually forgotten, is that at first they came at me from an angle that I was disrespecting the victims in Gaza.

So this implies they feel gaza is being subjected to a genocide, and a pretty big one, since they're upset my language made it sound "smaller and tamer." When it becomes obvious that I do in fact consider it a serious genocide, that's when they switch over to saying that my criticism of Netanyahu or the IDF is inherently an attack on Jewish people.

Notice I never actually said "zionists" in this screenshot, even, but that I defined "regular humans" as humans who don't want to kill innocent families. That would automatically include Jewish people since they overall do not wish to kill anyone, but have in fact spent quite a lot more time trying not to get killed. I believe there may be entire books about this fact! I think there's even whole museums about it, if I'm not mistaken?!

So then they pivot to saying I'm an antisemite because I said the IDF and its supporters can "burn in hell," and they say "invoking hell" is an antisemitic dogwhistle, which is definitely news to me?!

So I tried to clarify, again, that I'm only angry at the people who are themselves killing civilians and the "pro-genocide maniacs" who defend the killing of civilians, which they responded to as if I had "lumped them in" with those. You can just see right there that I didn't make any assumption that they were a part of that at all. Thanks to their earlier comments I still thought I was speaking to someone 100% against the IDF's actions, but every time I said that the killers and their advocates alone are bad, they've framed it in some new way as me just not liking anyone Jewish. So now that you have that context:

...In a response to an ask, they finally just say they hated me to begin with and set out with the intention to "bait and sealion" me (their own words!!) into saying something they hoped would be antisemitic, which they believe was successful despite me never saying anything about Jews other than "this isn't their fault." They saw what they admittedly wanted to, so strongly, that they show me saying "this isn't the fault of Jews" as evidence that I blame Jews. But speaking of people "going mask off"

In multiple more recent posts and asks, this person appears to say that they simply do not believe the IDF is really targeting children or ambulances or relief aid, that "none of those are true," and the deliberate targeting of any children is supposedly just a conspiracy theory??? So I guess they did successfully troll me and I feel like a real gullible dumbass, because the only reason I continued responding to this person in the first place was that they said they were in fact against the ongoing massacre. Instead, these comments sound like they think the IDF is being unfairly vilified by dishonest propagandists, and that's why they hated me enough to try and fish for callout fuel. That's the nastiest fucking thing anyone's yet pulled on me about this and it's not one that I'm just going to ignore. I should have smelled a troll early on and just blocked them, but it's SO hard for me to suspect ulterior motives. I always go in thinking people mean well, and that there's just a miscommunication we can work out. I almost feel like this individual noticed that and tried to exploit it?!? Unfortunately I'm sure this kind of thing will happen again simply because I don't intend to obediently shut up about what's being done to Gaza. It's not logistically possible for the death and destruction to all just be accidental collateral damage. Don't let anybody ever fool you into thinking the IDF is the face of the Jewish community or vice-versa, just as you can't let anyone fool you into thinking Hamas represents all Palestinians. Especially don't engage this person, stop doing so if you have been, and block them.

[kxlitz]

Hi, i'm loving your work, you're so talented. I was wondering if you could do an arguing with the Kaulitz twins (separate) HC please? ❤

I sure can!! Tysm for the request ִ ࣪𖤐

✶ Arguing with the Kaulitz Twins ✶

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

★ Bill Kaulitz ★

Let’s start softly

This may have been said many, many, many times but it’s true. You guys rarely fight, but! When it comes to little arguments over some petty topics I’m afraid it’s the opposite.

It never lasts long.

You accidentally pulled a loose thread on his silk shirt? He’s going to pout about it for the next thirty minutes

You stepped on him? He will dramatically say you’re plotting against him

Missed a chord on stage? Oh he will be genuinely annoyed for a little while

When it comes to serious arguments though, you need something big to anger him so badly.

It would start just like your usual bickering. Making petty remarks at each other and someetimes avoiding the main issue.

Once his face drops and he goes completely serious you know it's about to go down.

Bill can be very pigheaded so he will stick to his point no matter what. He likes being right just as he likes being in control.

He's the type to speak really fast and cut your word because he feels the need to explain himself.

Is very consious of what he says though, he will never say something hurtful that he doesn't mean.

It's a different story if he actually means it. He's brutally honest and if you did something bad he will tell you without sugarcoating it, even if it can come across as rude.

Bill can take a lot in but there's always a point where he breaks, it's normal.

Look he's not a rude person at all, but he's not one to let things slide either.

A flaw of his is that he may say a hundred things at once and expect you to listen through but there's times when one of your first replies will make him cry or freak out right away. Ofc not always but it's one of the things Bill would need to work on.

He is not that aggressive but is VERY defensive.

Bill doesn't like conflict though, this is really a worst case scenario where something comes up and you guys need to argue it out.

Friendly reminder that it is necessary in relationships to argue from time to time as long as it stays healthy.

If the argument gets too heated Bill prefers that you both part ways for a couple hours to cool down. Then you discuss again after re-arranging your thoughts.

At the end of the day he never meant wrong, he just wants to fix whatever came up.

Bill would feel terrible after you fight. He genuinely fears you’ll leave him or start hating him.

Would not apologize instantly because his pride plays a big game, but give it some minutes or an hour; worst case a day and he will come back sobbing and asking for your forgiveness, expressing how much he loves you and how he never meant to fight.

You’re the type to be angry at each other but still cuddle at night.

Hug him and tell him he's valid please.

☆ Tom Kaulitz ☆

Tom, Tom, Tom

Believe it or not, Tom becomes quite submissive when he's very emphatuated with someone.

He really is at your mercy.

Yet it doesn't change the fact that he's a bit of a hot-head and just like Bill, he likes when he's right.

Let's not forget Tom was a bit of a punk activist growing up. You get what I mean when I say that be likes to get his point across. (Y'all need to read Bill's book if you speak/understand german it's a GEM. There's also a girl narrating some of it in spanish on YT :)

Unfortunately, arguments do happen often. Sometimes it’s really nothing but other times it can get pretty ugly.

When you guys are mad at each other everyone knows that it's better to leave you be because it will get loud.

Your fights range from small discussions that you have often to actual screaming matches when it gets bad.

It's inevitable for the both of you to raise your voices as each other in these cases.

The reasons may vary. It can be miscommunication, ESPECIALLY in 2006-8 when you were still young teens experiencing the world of fame.

Jealousy, for sure. I can see Tom being skilled enough at hiding it but he’s very possessive still.

And well, it’s still Tom. Again if you focus on his earlier years of fame the amount of girls throwing themselves at him can definitely be a cause of conflict.

Unless you’re very chill about it.

There’s definitely still possessiveness on Tom’s side.

I feel like neither of you would really know how to process the frustration.

A little thing to take into consideration is that you’d be the couple that argues, yell that you hate each other and then 10 minutes later you’ll be back to normal and never speak of it again.

Which you need to work on.

It’s because of this very reason that some of your fighting topics can be repetitive.

From what the twins have confessed, they could get pretty aggressive with their surroundings.

Tom would never, NEVER, raise a hand at you. No need to worry.

But the items around him can’t say the same.

He’s the kind of person that feels the anger in him build up physically and needs some release. When he’s fuming, in the worst of scenarios some tables would be kicked or some object would fly around. Just never at you.

This habit does get worked on throughout time though, he matures and grows.

The only physical fight that would ever go down is a pillow fight. Or play fights. Or in bed. But that’s another story.

A bit similar to Bill, Tom needs some time to cool off, just does it more impulsively.

He would walk out sometimes because it’s far too overwhelming.

Makeup sex is a big thing in your relationship.

Tom would love to express himself better and talk things through he simply needs help doing it.

Maybe you’re the help he needs.

[eliciria]

Ahmmm..

Headcanons for Leona Kingscholar while being friends with benefits with Reader/yuu

Angst and fluff??

a/n : thanks so much for requesting! My first post that actually shows my writing! wow! Sorry if it's a bit more angsty than fluff, i naturally go there hehe. Hope you enjoy!

whisper to the trees... (ask box) : open

check my about me/request rules here

wc : 0.8k words

cws : suggestive but still fluff, miscommunication phase for like 2 seconds, swearing, kind of ooc leona, potentially happy ending? gn reader

song playing : this is how it feels by laufey ft. d4vd

Leona Kingscholar with a friends to benefit! Relationship

I'll be so real right now, he actually wouldn't do any type of PDA with you. Even if you lean to more of the affectionate and almost lover-type phase of your 'friendship', he won't even attempt to try and hold your hand out in the open.

That doesn't mean he doesn't want to, though.

It's just that his pride kind of gets in the way when he attempts to brush his fingers against yours a little longer.

Pride is also probably the main reason why both of you remain friends. You think he wants to remain friends, while he struggles to pour his true emotions to you.

It leads into a cycle of ghosting then love bombing. The lack of responsibility within the interactions of both of you, before finally missing you becomes toxic.

He misses your supposed first dates, before apologizing later in the night. After reconciling, you'd attempt to meet up with him again past your `nightly activities` , but he misses it again. The cycle repeats.

Frankly, you were a bit sick of it. But you gave him one last chance to talk it out with you after class. To figure it out together.

So when he notices you right after he flirts with a random student(for them to carry one of the group projects, that is). He can't help but regret to have confessed earlier.

You walk hastily, trying to avoid the awkward situation you just witnessed. You finally got your answer, but you wished it wasn't in this way.

You pretended that you weren't in denial, and your actions showed the opposite. You really were. Tears were fighting to come out, and your lips trembled in both sadness and anger.

You only snapped out of it when Leona grabbed your hand a bit too tightly, breaking you out of your train of thought.

"Are you seriously walking away?" He asked you. How funny. You scoff.

"After witnessing that? Any person would."

"You don't understand." Really? Is this how he is going to act? You roll your eyes, tears sliding.

"Just what do I not understand? That you pulled that shit on me? Just how long do you think I can handle this bullshit?" Your voice attempts to remain stable, but the broken sobs break your attempt to look like you didn't care. You were just friends, yes. But the nights where he had "loved" you felt too much now.

" Yuu--"

"What, huh? I'm tired, so tired of you treating me like a whore. Like someone with no dignity. You treat me like a friend, and I'm happy you do. But when we try to step forward, you act like I'm just a fucking bed warmer! Just what do you want from me Leona?! I can't keep up with this. I love you, but I'm tired. Please, just stop-"

You get interrupted with your face being buried in his chest. He was embracing you, with a bit too much gentleness. He was stroking your hair, muttering a "shhh...". You hit his chest again and again, your broken sobs muffled. It would happen all over again. You'd fall again, and he'd do nothing but let you.

He watched as you screamed at him. It was understandable, he had refused to show any sign that he had truly loved you. But when he picked up the noise of students' footsteps, he can't help but want this to be cut short.

Nobody can hear your cries, unless it was him.

He immediately embraced you, both in comfort, and to blur your cries.

As you hit him as he hugs you, he gripped you a bit tighter. The punches were weak, and he was too focused on stopping you from crying.

Students passed by the both of you, glaring at the scene. A couple hugging in a hallway? Out of all the places?

But they rushed on as they noticed his death stare. The second they had tried to look at your face, he was tempted to pounce at them right then or there. He fought the urge to actually commit the act; he simply moved himself so all they would see was his back, and not you.

After a few more minutes of silence, he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I do love you. I really fucking do. The only person I want to see is you. The only person I want to be with is you. I just...don't know how to tell you that. I acted incredibly douchey, so i apologize. For everything. For all the dates I missed. For the missed opportunities to say I love you. For not being able to give you what you deserve. I'll change. Fuck, I'll do anything. I need you, so please. Don't leave."

You remain still, before letting out a jagged breath. You held onto the side of his jacket, and he rests his hand on your neck, the other on your waist. You look at him.

"I won't."

a/n : the cycle continues! if you liked this, please like or repost it! again, my asks are open, and thanks for reading!

[comicaurora]

When did you decide on introducing Falst as a fakeout villain? in my head it's such an ingrained part of the arc but I have to imagine his intro wasn't always like that.

It wasn't! In the very earliest version of the story, aka the loose pre-scripting nebulous idea for how to get him in with the group, it was a pretty simple scenario where Falst was victimized by some bad guys and the gang helped him out, validated his existence, etc. It was functional for what it needed to accomplish - getting him in as a Main Character - but it had a lot of problems, namely that he had no agency in any of it.

I realized as I got closer to introducing him that Falst had a characteristic that none of the other protagonists had: he was rough. Erin isn't nice like Kendal and Alinua, but he's not going to go out of his way to purposefully hurt anyone who hasn't hurt him first. Erin can be rude and thoughtless, but he likes explaining things, and that does a lot to smooth over potential miscommunication. Falst isn't like that. Despite suffering deeply from loneliness, Falst is not good at making himself palatable for other people, and for the most part doesn't want to, in part because he shouldn't have to. It took a lot of bad stuff to grind him down to the point of seriously contemplating turning himself human to make it stop, and even then, he typically responds to antagonism by hitting back twice as hard, not making himself more inoffensive in the hopes of making it stop. In the trifecta of fight-flight-freeze, he defaults to fight, and he has a lot of reasons to wall off every conceivable vulnerability and snap out at people instead of giving them an in-road to hurting him by being nice to them. This makes him incredibly vulnerable to conflict and miscommunication plotlines because he will never explain himself if he thinks he has any other more combative option available, and that makes it very easy to turn people against him if they aren't willing to reach out and potentially take a hit trying to close that gap.

What I like most about writing Falst is that none of this makes him a monster, and none of it makes him unworthy of chances, love or understanding. He's a ball of sharp corners and he hurts people, and he's very easily framed as an antagonist because of that. And framing him opposite a kind, soft-spoken, eloquent, handsome small town doctor makes it easier to see him as a villain. And the fact that the doctor is actually a manipulative villain doesn't undo any of the stuff Falst did during their initial encounter when they didn't know each other and he made his introduction by robbing the party and lightly maiming Kendal. Falst is not perfectly nice, and it doesn't take much to get him to be actively mean or unnecessarily defensive. It is easy to convince characters and an audience that a character like that is a Problem, because if he weren't a Problem he would be nice and non-confrontational and conventionally attractive. Undercutting aesthetic morality is always fun, and sometimes you just gotta judge a character by their actions and conclude that they might not be good at making you like them but they're not actually doing anything all that bad.

Falst is kind of a jerk. He also has a lot of qualities that are not jerk traits. Falst found people who like him, and the fact that he's a jerk doesn't contradict that. We're all jerks sometimes, and we all tank hits from our friends being jerks sometimes. Falst is at his most interesting when I let him be emotional, hostile and imperfect, and I think it's nice to give him people that love him without undercutting the things that make him believe he's unlovable.

[buckyseddie]

out of the woods

pairings — avenger!james (bucky) barnes x fem!human!avenger!reader

summary — in which, their relationship is a very complicated and rocky relationship that they both have to fight for. based on the song out of the woods by taylor swift!

word count — 7.7k.

warnings — lots of angst, lots of hints at winterwidow (but its not actually happening), also a lot of miscommunication, mentions of bucky's trauma, mentions of reader's past with old relationships, use of pet-names [doll, baby, babydoll, darling, sweetheart], reader calls bucky james a lot, cuddles, dancing, screaming fights, secret relationships, a lot of the avengers not being completely supportive of their relationship and being kind of judgemental, also big mentions of bucky's past and also past relationships and big hints at him kind of being a heartthrob / player / heartbreaker and like sleeping around etc., bucky's kind of an asshole, steve and natasha and wanda are probably the closest to the reader, steve's kind of hard on bucky but it's for a good reason, steve and wanda and natasha are hella overprotective of the reader, kisses, pining, jealousy, love confessions, tension!

notes — i'm back in my bucky obsession, so let's expect more!! also, this is the fastest i've EVER written a fic omg. gif and divider creds to owner!

p.s., feedback is very much encouraged and appreciated <3

main masterlist

THINKING BACK ON IT, NEITHER of them could say for sure how it first started.

they just knew that finding each other was the best thing to ever happen to either of them.

"looking at it now, it all seems so simple. we were lying on your couch. i remember."

the air is quiet with a calm and comfortable silence.

"do you think anything's going to change?" [y/n] asks quietly, not daring to look up at him.

she keeps her head leaning over his shoulder, becoming incredibly comfortable, but also feeling a little nervous of what his reply will be.

it takes him a moment before he answers her, "no, and even if they do, we'll figure it out."

[y/n] sighs, trying to keep the lingering, negative worries buried, as she moves the blanket to cover the both of them.

bucky chuckles, gently moving the fuzzy blanket off of his body and over to cover her whole, shivering body. "doll, you know my body's too warm for the blanket."

[y/n] sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes. "ugh, i hate how amazing your body is."

as soon as the words leave her lips, she groans and buries her face into his chest. "oh my god."

bucky smirks down at her.

she lifts her head up and squints her eyes in clear embarrassment. "i didn't mean it like that!"

bucky gives her a pointed look.

"i didn't!" she yells defensively.

she sighs. "you know i meant like how amazing your body is in the sense of healing and how you're always warm."

bucky chuckles, shaking his head. "sweetheart, i know. i'm just kidding."

"you better be." she mumbles, moving back to lie her head back on his chest and snuggling closer to him.

"you took a polaroid of us. then discovered (then discovered) the rest of the world was black and white. but we were screaming in color. and i remember thinking."

[y/n] giggles as he kisses her cheek, just as she takes the picture.

"bucky!" she yells, turning around to shove him, after she took the polaroid out of the camera and setting it down.

"what?"

"that picture is probably all blurry now!" she whines, turning back around to grab it on the side table.

she shakes it as he wraps his arms around her waist, both of them waiting to see what the picture will look like.

she giggles again as he buries his face into her neck, the scruff on his jaw tickling her.

he lifts his head up as the picture becomes much more clearer.

"huh." she murmurs, a soft smile forming on her lips as they both notice that the picture is perfect—no blurs, or anything like that.

"see? it's fine." he whispers, but since they're so close, she can hear it clearly.

she giggles as she turns around to face him, moving her hands up to his face, giggling once more at the feel of the facial hair that's grown on his face.

"fine. maybe it is." she says with playful glare.

he smiles genuinely, placing his own hands over hers, just appreciating the moment.

"are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods?"

with a silent gasp, [y/n] holds her breath and stands still, hiding behind the corner of the wall.

"what's going on between the two of you?" steve's voice speaks up again, judgement in his voice.

"what are you talking about?" bucky asks, trying to act dumb.

"come on, buck," steve says, giving him a pointed look. "it's clear that something's going on."

bucky shakes his head immediately, almost feeling and sounding defensive. "there's not anything going on."

[y/n]'s heart stops as she hears those words.

she wasn't expecting him to admit it, especially considering the fact that they've been keeping everything on the down low.

but, how could he sound so disgusted at the mere thought of them together?

with no more interest in hearing any more of that conversation, [y/n] angrily pushes herself away from the wall and marches up the stairs, up to her bedroom.

"are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? in the clear yet, good."

hearing her bedroom door open, [y/n] immediately turns away to hastily wipe away the tears staining her cheeks.

"doll? why are you—" bucky cuts himself off as he notices her red face and runny nose.

"are you crying?" he asks, shutting the door gently as he walks over to her.

"baby, what's wrong? talk to me." he murmurs as he sits down beside her, cupping her face gently.

[y/n] only scoffs, pulling away from him and getting up, wanting to get away from him.

"you have a lot of nerve, james!" she exclaims as she turns around, trying to ignore the sniffling sound coming from her nose.

bucky's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "sweetheart, what's going on? why are you acting like this all of a sudden?"

she scoffs again. "are you kidding me right now?"

he raises his hands up in the air, becoming frustrated.

realizing that he's probably never going to get it until she spells it out, she spits it out with disdain, "how was your talk with steve, huh? you have anything you wanna tell me?"

his eyes fill with realization.

bucky opens his mouth to say something — anything — to explain, before she can come up with too many assumptions.

she holds up her finger, trying to shut him up. "what are we even doing, james?"

he falls short at her words.

"if nothing is going on, then why are we even doing any of this?" she questions, pointing between the both of them to emphasize.

"doll, it's not like that. it's not like that at all, i swear."

he walks over to her, and for some reason, she lets him place his hands over her shoulders.

"i only said that to protect you — to protect us." he explains, sighing when she rolls her eyes at him in disbelief.

"from what, james? what could me or we need protecting from?" she exclaims, tears filling her eyes.

she can't stop the hurt feelings she feels deep in her heart from what he had said to steve.

"baby..." he trails off, hating to see her hurting from this misunderstanding.

"what? what could you possibly say that could make this better?" she exclaims again.

he sighs, shutting his eyes for a straight second. "i wanted to protect our relationship from all of the judgement and the questions!" he suddenly yells, causing her to jump in surprise.

he flinches, trying to ignore what his yelling has caused her.

"look," he says, much more softly this time. "i know this is all still very new to us. and i want to protect us and this relationship before we announce it — we need to figure out what it is before we do that."

she's quiet, tears spilling as guilt fills her for overreacting.

before she can quite apologize or defend herself, bucky can practically read her mind.

"don't worry about it. it's okay." he murmurs, wrapping his arms around her.

she sighs shakily as she whispers, "i'm sorry."

"are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods?"

she can't breathe.

she can't breathe at all as she sees it.

the scene playing out in front of her — in front of everyone too — makes her sick to her stomach.

she swears she hears her own heart shatter into a million different pieces.

despite the tears blinding her vision, she doesn't hesitate as she says, "excuse me, guys. i have to go." and turns around to walk back up to her room.

how could he do this to her?

flirting with her best friend? did she mean nothing to him?

as soon as she's in her room, she slams the door shut and locks it.

and with that, she slides down the door and finally lets everything out with her hands covering her face.

"are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? in the clear yet, good. (are we out of the woods?)"

she'd been avoiding bucky ever since she saw that exchange between him and natasha in the kitchen.

they'd all been drinking and even if [y/n] didn't know it, it wasn't anything more than two friends joking around with each other.

but, even though she was great at dodging and avoiding bucky, one morning, after a particularly exhausting training session with steve, he was able to find and catch her before she could quite run away from him.

she grimaces when he grabs her wrist to prevent her from going any farther away from him.

"[y/n]." he calls, his voice filled with anguish.

"what?" she whispers, trying to ignore the tears that have already spilled down to her cheeks.

she doesn't turn around. not yet.

"doll, what's going on? why won't you speak to me and why have you been avoiding me?" he asks, his voice barely even a whisper.

"did i do something wrong?" he asks again, this time his voice small.

but, [y/n] forces herself not to dwell on it.

instead, she whips around, ripping her hand out of his gentle grip and pointing a finger at his chest. "you have a lot of nerve, you know that, james?" she exclaims, finally having had enough.

everyone around them watches cautiously, before steve nods for them to follow him out of the room.

they do.

and bucky and [y/n] don't speak until the room is quiet and empty.

"what are you talking about?" he asks again, only becoming more and more confused.

she scoffs. "are you that clueless, bucky?" she asks, shaking her head.

how could he not even know what he did?

when he doesn't answer once again, she rolls her eyes, suddenly sick of this heartache that's quickly been happening for her — for the both of them. "i'm sick of this, james. if you wanted to be with nat, you should've just told me and ended this before one of us got hurt."

bucky only becomes more confused. "natasha? what the hell does she have to do with this?"

"oh my god," she mutters, only becoming more and more irritated.

"bucky, i saw you with her the other night, okay? along with everyone else."

his face fills with realization as she continues, "i don't know what you were doing. maybe... you were trying to get everyone off of our backs. or maybe you just couldn't find a way to let me down gently."

tears fill his eyes at the thought of her thinking that he doesn't want to be with her or that there's something going on between him and her best friend.

"baby, i'm not interested in natasha." he simply states, hoping that he can fix this before he causes any more damage.

[y/n]'s eyebrows knit together, creating a crease in between them, and bucky wants so badly to fix it.

"then... why were you flirting with her?" she asks meekly, not quite sure what she's supposed to believe anymore.

he chuckles, running his hands through his hair. "we were just laughing and talking — we were drunk, but nothing like what you're thinking of happened."

she stops short, her heart stopping. "so, nothing really happened?"

"nothing happened." he confirms and she deflates.

tears fill her eyes as she glances down at the floor in clear embarrassment and regret. "oh, god. i'm an idiot."

he laughs, walking over to her to cup her face in his hands. "no, you're not. you're just scared. just like me. right?"

she wordlessly nods, still emotional and embarrassed.

he simply nods and pulls her into his side, hugging her with her arms wrapped around his torso and his chin resting on the top of her head.

"looking at it now. last december. (last december). we were built to fall apart. then fall back together. (back together)."

the screaming match happening in the middle of the living room has gotten so bad that the rest of the team has gone out for dinner.

what is this about, you ask?

well, in a way the cat's out of the bag.

you see, most of the team, including tony and natasha, walked into the kitchen, catching bucky and [y/n] sharing a few stolen kisses.

they'd finally found out about their relationship. and most of them were just shocked.

but, a few others were pretty judgmental and critical about it, like tony.

and thus, leading them to the fight that's happening right now.

"i don't get what the hell you wanted me to do!" bucky yells, raising his hands up in the air.

"oh my god. you can't be serious right now!" she yells back, shaking her head at him in disbelief.

"i am! what the fuck were you expecting?! i was trying to protect us." he screams, becoming too heated, which only sets [y/n] off more.

"first of all, i wanted you to defend me! maybe defend our relationship when tony insulted me and our relationship! and secondly, you weren't protecting us! you were just protecting yourself — just like before!"

he rolls his eyes and scoffs. "why are you always turning this into something it's not?! i've been trying to protect our relationship since the beginning!"

"oh really? because it sure as hell doesn't seem like it!" she yells, her tears finally falling.

"you know what? i'm done!" she exclaims, taking a deep breath as she turns to one of the couches to grab her things.

"this was just a big mistake. and i can't fucking take it anymore." she mutters, but bucky hears it perfectly.

panic fills him, just as much as the guilt fills him.

"wait, sweetheart. don't go." he calls out, walking up to her as she starts to walk over to the door that leads to the exit.

"why?" she whips around to face him, her face red from the screaming and crying and her voice is croaky from said-screaming.

"why, james? all this has caused is pain," she mutters now, looking away from him. "we've had more pain and drama than we've had any good moments or happiness."

his face softens. "doll, that's not true. and you know it."

"look," he murmurs, grabbing her chin with his forefinger and turning her face, so that she's looking at him. "i'm sorry for the yelling. and for not defending you — i was just stressed. but, that's no excuse."

"please, just give us a chance. i promise it'll be worth it."

[y/n] sighs quietly, thinking for a moment.

after a few minutes, she can't help but agree. "okay. one more try."

he smiles, before pulling her into his arms and chest, hoping for something better for them.

[y/n], however, hugs him back with a stressed and worried glint in her eyes. is all of this pain really worth it?

"ooh, your necklace hanging from my neck. the night we couldn't forget. when we decided, we decided. to move the furniture so we could dance. baby, like we stood a chance. two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying. and i remember thinking."

bucky can't help the fond smile that forms on his lips as he admires the way his dog tags hang around his girl's neck.

even without makeup and wearing one of his henley's and her own comfy pajama pants with a messy bun, he still thought she looked absolutely jaw-droppingly beautiful.

something was shifting between them and he knew in this exact moment.

but suddenly, he's shaken out of his daze when she suddenly pushes the furniture away from the floor, along with some of the tables.

"babydoll, what are you doing with that?" he asks with a raised eyebrow, his body growing warm at the excited smile and the giggles that leave her lips.

"we're going to dance, silly!" she says, as if it's completely obvious.

"whoa, whoa," he says as she walks over to him excitedly and he lifts his hands up in the air, to motion for her to stop her actions.

"i don't dance. and also, there's no music." he tries to reason with her, but she simply rolls her eyes at him and grabs his hands and pulls him towards her in the middle of the floor.

"yeah, right. steve's told me stories about how you'd take all of your hookups dancing! and there doesn't need to be music!"

bucky chuckles, moving closer to her.

he puts his hands on her hips and hers around his neck, him unknowingly and unconsciously already starting to dance with her.

"we both know that you're more than just a hookup. so, i guess you're worth my terrible and lack of dancing." he says teasingly, waggling his eyebrows at her.

she laughs, unclasping her hands and pulling them away from his neck to cover up her flaming, blushing face and hide it from him.

he smiles, slowly pulling them away to see her face. "darling, i want to say you're gorgeous face."

she flushes even more. "it's not! you're just saying that."

his face changes into something serious. "yeah, i am just saying that because it's true."

she groans and rolls her eyes as she places her hands back around his neck.

"fine! you win," she mumbles, but she then says quickly and defensively, "just this one time!" when he smirks in victory.

and true to his word, bucky doesn't dance very gracefully.

but, considering the stories she's heard about him in the forties — back before all of that super soldier and nazi stuff happened — she chooses to believe that he only danced clumsily and silly to make her laugh.

"are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods?"

she tries to ignore both the concerned and judgey looks her friends keep giving her.

she'd just told natasha and wanda the truth about her relationship with bucky.

and to say they haven't been completely supportive is a big understatement — it's not that they're bad friends and could care less, it's more about the fact that bucky's been known to break hearts and they worry that their friend will be caught in the crossfire.

"what?" she asks, her voice coming out small.

"are you sure you want to do this with him?" natasha asks, raising a single brow at her in question.

wanda nods in agreement. "yeah. are you absolutely sure that you wanna get into a relationship with him?"

[y/n] scoffs in disbelief. "are you kidding me right now?" she asks, seeing the confused looks they share as they look at each other.

"we just mean that he's not exactly known as a commitment type-of-guy." wanda says hesitantly.

natasha nods. "it's true — he's broken a lot of women's hearts."

"wow," [y/n] mutters in further disbelief. "neither of you have any right to judge. we've all done things we regret! and let's not forget all of the hearts you guys broke!" she exclaims in a whisper as she suddenly gets up from her seat at the kitchen's counter table and marches up the stairs to her bedroom.

"are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet, good."

bucky knocks on the door gently.

he hears quiet sniffles and then a shaky voice say, "come in."

he tries to mentally prepare himself for what drama could be on the other side of the door — he doesn't mean this as an insult, it's just that so many people have been causing them and their new and blossoming relationship extremely complicated for them.

as he opens the door, his face falls at the upset and red face of his girlfriend's.

shutting the door softly, he walks over to her.

it's quiet as he crawls over to the other side of the bed and pulls her into his arms.

"why don't they support us?" she cries, her feelings being a little too hurt from the conversation that she had with her best friends.

he sighs, holding her tight, with his chin over her head.

"i don't know." he says, really not knowing either.

"it's going to be alright, okay?" he murmurs as she buries her face into his chest, crying even harder.

"are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods?"

"buck, i'm not sure this is a good idea." steve states from the couch, nodding towards [y/n], who's standing alone in the kitchen; she's numbly opening a water bottle as her eyes catch the scene of wanda and natasha talking and laughing on the far side of the kitchen.

bucky sighs, his gaze softening, before he turns back to face his best friend.

"what are you trying to tell me, steve?" he asks, giving him a tense — but pointed — stare.

"no offense, but you can't ignore the way you are with women," he briefly expains, continuing on when bucky stares at him silently, daring him to go on, "you can't commit to her, buck!" he whisper-yells, not wanting to catch anyone's attention with their conversation.

bucky scoffs, shaking his head at his best friend's judgement. aren't your friends supposed to not judge you?

"i'm sorry, bucky," he says, stepping up to stand with him. "i'm not trying to gang up on you — i'm just worried about both of you. and i don't want [y/n] to get caught in the middle of it, with her heart broken."

bucky scoffs again and walks away.

"buck!" steve calls, feeling bad for the way he approached this situation.

"no!" he yells, cutting any other words he could say off and catching the attention of everyone else.

"are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? in the clear yet, good. (are we out of the woods?)"

"hey..." [y/n] murmurs softly, walking over to the open hall that leads to the living room and kitchen.

bucky sighs, that anger still bubbling inside of him.

"it's okay, james." she murmurs softly, moving to gently touch his flesh arm and rubbing it comfortingly.

bucky groans, some of that anger dimming down a little bit.

but then, he remembers the conversation between him and steve and that anger comes right back.

he clenches his jaw, staring at the wall behind her.

she notices this again.

"hey, look at me." she murmurs softly, now cupping his face.

he sighs and looks at her this time.

"what did he say?" she asks, bringing one of her hands up and into his hair, in order to calm him even more.

he doesn't answer her.

although, he asks her a different question, "do you think that i've hurt every woman i've come into contact with?"

[y/n]'s puzzled now, her eyebrows knitting together as she tilts her head in confusion.

"what do you mean?"

"do you think i'll hurt you?" he asks, his voice wavering in unexpected emotions.

"what? james, of course not. why are you asking me this?" she asks seriously, grabbing one of his hands from across his chest to hold it carefully — the metal one.

he tries to ignore the dread and worry filling him at her holding his metal hand.

"so, you're not worried?" he asks again.

"i mean, i'm scared. but that's because of my own issues. it's not because of you — i know you would never purposely hurt me." she says truthfully, moving her other hand to cup his face, smiling softly at the ticklish feeling of the growing scruff on his jaw.

"you promise?" he asks, tears filling his eyes.

"hey," she says, stepping even closer to him and this time, placing both of her hands over his cheeks. "it's okay. i promise."

"remember when you hit the brakes too soon? twenty stitches in a hospital room. when you started crying, baby, i did too. but when the sun came up, i was looking at you."

it all happened too fast.

since [y/n] and bucky have been inseparable — especially with their friends seeing that nothing could tear them apart now — tony and steve decided to pair them up in a simple mission.

all they needed to do was go to a recently revealed hydra base and get some files.

but, the plan didn't go right. in fact, it all went terribly wrong.

[y/n] was supposed to go into one of the rooms to copy their files off of one of the computers with the thumb drive she brought with them, while bucky stood and watched guard.

but, things just went horribly wrong when something drew him away from the door of the room she was in — he thought it would only be a second, just to make sure he could be on top of any sudden attacks.

but, turns out, it was quite a few hydra soldiers trying to distract him.

and before he knew it, by the time he made it back — after finally getting the upper hand on the enemy agents and knocking them out — he came back only to see the door of the room slightly ajar and everything too quiet.

panic filled him as he walked into the room, lightly pushing the door open.

his jaw dropped when he saw another agent standing over a weak [y/n] lying on the floor, who was holding her abdomen in clear pain.

shaky gasps left her lips as she kept pushing herself further and further away from the smirking man before her.

but, before he could even take a step further to cause her even more pain, bucky didn't hesitate; he stepped closer and faster and quickly drew out his gun and knocked him out on the back of the head.

a shocked and pained groan left his mouth, before his body dropped to the ground.

and with that, he had ran over to [y/n] to help her up, panicking much more as he had finally realized what happened.

now as she lies unconscious, bucky continues to let the racing thoughts consume his entire being.

he holds her hands in his own, his chair scooted to reach her bedside and his head leant over their connected hands.

a sharp intake of breath and a pained groan draws his attention away from his intrusive thoughts.

he snaps his head up, his eyes filling with tears.

"james? what's... what's going on? what happened?" she croaks out, trying to clear her throat of the dryness.

"baby... you were shot." he murmurs, his voice wavering in worry.

"but... did we get the files?" she asks, only one thing on her mind.

he laughs. "doll, you got shot and you're more concerned about the mission?"

she shrugs. "i just don't want to disappoint anyone."

"you're not." he says honestly, holding her hands tighter.

after a few moments of silence, bucky dips his head down to take a deep breath.

"i really thought i was going to lose you, back there." he mutters, tears spilling.

"james..." she says, sitting up so that she can grab his chin and lift it up gently.

"it's okay." she whispers, wiping away the tears.

"it's not." he says, crying for the first time since she woke up.

"i know." she murmurs, smiling softly at him. "but, i'm okay."

he sighs and nods.

"remember when we couldn't take the heat? i walked out, i said 'i'm setting you free'. but the monsters turned out to be just trees. when the sun came up you were looking at me."

she couldn't believe what was happening right now — she's couldn't believe what she was hearing.

how could he do this to her? now? after everything they've been through?

"are... are you serious right now?" she asks, barely even a whisper.

tears fill her eyes over him refusing to look her in the eyes.

"tell me you're not serious!" she exclaims, suddenly standing up.

he stays silent.

"no." she says to herself, in denial and refusing to believe any of this.

he finally turns to her, his face cold and unfamiliar to her. "yes, i'm serious. i can't do this anymore."

she gapes at him, the tears filling her eyes — she's absolutely speechless.

but, when he turns around and starts to walk over to her bedroom door — to walk out — she springs into action.

"no! don't walk away — don't walk away from us!" she yells, racing over to him to grab his flesh wrist and stopping him from walking any further.

although, she knows that he can easily leave and escape her shaking hand — being a strong super soldier, and all.

he scoffs, turning to face her a cold look in his eyes — she couldn't recognize the man standing in front of her.

"i am walking away. it's for the better," he mumbles, before saying his next choice of words, clearer as ever, "we. are. done."

he walks out and as he slams the door shut, [y/n] can only cry and sob with heaving breaths as she falls to the ground — she can't believe he's done this.

maybe everyone was right about them — about him — this entire time.

"you were looking at me, oh. you were looking at me. (are we out of the woods yet?) (are we out of the woods yet?) (are we out of the woods yet?) (are we out of the woods?)"

she was miserable.

and so was he — he was just better at hiding it.

[y/n]'s quiet at game night.

everyone's crowded in the living room and the room is filled with loud chatter.

bucky's talking with steve animatedly, as if they never argued about [y/n] before.

seeing this, [y/n] ignores the blinding tears that are pricking at her eyes and turns away from everyone else.

she tries to make it through the rest of the night, but she can't.

she's abrupt as she gets up from the couch, from being smushed in between natasha and wanda.

she doesn't say anything in excuse from her actions.

instead, she starts walking down the hall to her bedroom, the tears finally falling freely.

"i remember. (are we in the clear yet?) (are we in the clear yet?) oh, i remember."

it's quiet for a moment as everyone watches the empty hall — the one that [y/n] had just walked through.

then, natasha stands up and walks over to bucky with a look of pure anger on her face.

loud gasps and yells sound in the room as the black widow slaps him hard on the face.

bucky is shocked, but also not.

steve stands up to hold natasha back. "alright, nat. calm down."

she scoffs. "why should i? he's the one that broke her heart!" she yells, still very much angry and protective over her best friend.

everyone else watches with shocked faces, except for wanda, natasha, steve, and bucky.

wanda watches in silent anger — she feels just as angry and protective, she's just more calm and quiet about it.

natasha is still just as angry as she glares at bucky.

steve is both bewildered, but not shocked at all.

and bucky? well, he's just filled with so much guilt.

"look, i know you guys will never understand," he starts, his eyes cast on the ground. "but, i did to protect her."

wanda scoffs. "to protect her? by hurting her? what the hell is wrong with you, barnes?!" she exclaims, jumping up from her seat and having just about enough of this, to just stay quiet.

he sighs. "you don't get it." he mutters, already giving up.

besides, why should he try to convince them that it's not what they think, if they're already assuming the worst of him?

"then explain it, man!" steve suddenly says, shocking everyone in the room — steve's always been in bucky's corner.

but, what can he say? [y/n]'s always been his soft spot — she's like a sister to him and he'd do just about anything to protect her, even if it's from his best friend.

"i'm trying to protect her from me!" he yells suddenly, millions of different wild emotions crossing his face.

"buck, what do you mean?" steve asks, slowly walking over to him, upon seeing the exhausted and pained look on his face.

"i'm bad for her, alright? you guys were right," he says tightly, motioning to natasha and wanda. "i am a piece of shit when it comes to committing to women. and ever since steve and i talked, i couldn't get it out of my head — i knew deep down that i was only going to hurt her and i couldn't do it anymore."

"but, don't you care about her? don't you remember those good moments with her?" steve asks quietly and gently.

"it doesn't matter. the best thing i can do for her is walk away." he says, rolling his eyes at all of their reactions.

"why are you guys fucking shocked like this? you all have been unsupportive from the very beginning!" he yells, throwing his hands up in the air.

before anyone else can say anything to convince him otherwise, he pushes past them and walks to his own bedroom.

"are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? in the clear yet, good."

weeks have gone past, but for [y/n], it felt like so much longer.

things have only gotten worse for her — the heartache of bucky walking out on her and their relationship has really taken a toll on her.

even as the red-headed ex-assassin talks to her, it all goes over her head.

natasha's voice feels muffled and far away as she feels completely haunted by the memories of bucky.

a shake to her shoulder brings her out of her daze. "[y/n]!"

"huh? what?" she asks, her voice blank.

natasha gives her a pointed look. "i'm serious. you need to talk to bucky."

she scoffs at hearing these words. "why? he's made it perfectly clear that he doesn't give a shit about me." she mutters, pushing back the tears.

the red head shakes her head. "i'm serious. i think he might be just as miserable as you are." she says, trying to persuade her best friend.

[y/n] glares at her. "why do you even care? you've been against us from the very beginning!"

natasha simply shrugs. "well, now i'm not."

[y/n] rolls her eyes. "how is that even possible?"

"because i've seen the change." she briefly explains.

[y/n] refuses to let those words change anything for her. even if her heart flutters at the thought of him changing himself or his mind.

"are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods?"

another party. great. another event i have to pretend like i'm not completely miserable.

[y/n] couldn't help the bitter thought in her head.

but, it seemed that things were only going to get worse.

one minute, she was talking excitedly with wanda and natasha.

and the next? she's feeling her entire body freeze up with her heart stopping as she watches something happen that she should've been expecting to happen soon enough.

how could she expect him to not move on so fast, when it was so easy for him to leave their relationship?

[y/n] gulps, trying to blink away the tears as she watches some mysterious, gorgeous woman leaning into bucky's personal space with a big smile on her face.

as if sensing her eyes on them, both of them turn to look over at her; the mystery woman with confusion and curiosity, and bucky with guilt and something else she can't decipher.

she shakes her head, walking away — away from the man that shattered her heart and her two, confused best friends.

"are we in the clear yet? (yeah). are we in the clear yet? (yeah). are we in the clear yet? in the clear yet, good."

she wishes she could actually kill herself just about right now.

how did she have the bad luck, to run into him in the kitchen? let alone with just them by themselves?

she's been able to avoid him whenever they've been surrounded by their friends, but this is the first time since their big breakup fight that they're really alone with each other.

"sweetheart—" he starts to say, but she cuts him off, holding a hand up.

—"don't worry about it. we broke up — it was messy — but i don't want to talk about it, okay? i just want to move on."

although her words come out as a lie, bucky believes it and it just about kills him.

he swallows his pride and every urge that he has that makes him want to come crawling back to her and get her back. "i just wanted to, uh, apologize for everything — i want to move on as well."

half of her was expecting that he was going to prove what natasha had said about him, but let's just say, she's extremely let down.

she fakes a smile, nodding. "right."

"yeah, exactly."

they both lie through their teeth.

"are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods?"

everyone watches the two as they talk quietly.

but, despite the fact that they are on talking terms, everyone can see that it's not the same.

"this is weird." sam whispers to steve, watching them with an amused look on his face.

steve sighs, frowning. "yeah. it is."

natasha turns to face them, blocking their view of bucky and [y/n]. "i thought he was going to get her back!" she whispers as she glares at them.

steve sighs, sharing a look with sam.

"well, he was," steve says, before sam finishes for him, "but then, she was talking about moving on and it really just ruined everything."

"man, she has no idea how whipped he is for her." sam mutters, steve nodding along in agreement.

wanda chimes in, frowning, "this is so painful to watch."

she nods to them, all of them quickly taking notice of how when one of them looks away from the other, they give the other a longing, sad look.

with that, wanda groans quietly, before getting up and walking away.

despite the both of them acting all content, both bucky and [y/n] are hurting deeply on the inside.

"are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? in the clear yet, good."

things had shifted recently — between [y/n] and bucky.

everyone could see it. just... not them.

things were still tense and they both were still hurting, but it was sort of bearable now.

"how do they not know? seriously!" kate murmurs, watching the pair giggling and discussing a book they have in common in disbelief.

peter — just as appalled — nods and points to kate, whole heartedly agreeing.

tony raises his eyebrows in shock. "i have no idea."

the rest of the group continues to watch confusedly as the pair become even more cute, if that's even possible.

a lot of them, like tony, yelena, clint, and some other watch in disgust, while some others watch in fondness.

"are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods yet? are we out of the woods?"

bucky watches intensely, jaw clenching and his baby blue eyes turning cold.

he shouldn't have expected them to get back to their old selves, especially after what he put her through.

but, watching pietro and [y/n] practically flirting right before his eyes, it completely shatters his heart.

he thought walking out on her to protect her was the worst thing he ever had to do.

but no. seeing her with someone else — right in front of him — that's so much worse.

"for christ's sake! barnes, go over there and get your girl!" tony complains, rolling his eyes.

bucky doesn't move his eyes off of the woman in the room.

he hears her laugh at pietro, and it kills him.

"i can't. she doesn't want me back." the words are hard to say, but he says them.

"that's a load of bullshit, barnes," natasha says, rolling her eyes when he turns to her in disbelief. "anyone with eyes here can see that she's completely in love with you."

bucky sighs, turning back to look at her again. "no. she's not."

"are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? are we in the clear yet? in the clear yet, good."

things were intense between bucky and [y/n], to say the least.

especially, after natasha marched over to her and pietro and pulled her to the side, and spilled how heartbroken and longing bucky was over her.

it must've been hours after that.

she left pietro to hang out with the rest of her friends, while she spent most of her time in her dark and quiet bedroom.

no matter what she tried to do — to distract herself — she just couldn't stop thinking about him.

knowing that he thought that she was moving on — that he thought that she didn't want him back anymore — it kept her up, all night.

even when everyone was asleep, she couldn't sleep.

so, instead, she walks out of her bedroom and down to the kitchen.

taking in a deep, shaky breath, she walks over to kitchen sink, trying her best to find a cup and the knob for the sink in the darkness.

although, before she can get her water, the kitchen light flicks on, flooding the room with brightness.

she whips around, only to find herself face-to-face with bucky.

"why are you up so early, doll?" he asks, trying to ignore how her eyes linger on his bare chest.

she looks away. "couldn't sleep."

when she looks back at him, and notices that longing gaze in his pretty blue eyes, she blurts it out, "i'm still in love with you."

he stops breathing for a split second. "what?" he utters in a mere whisper.

she takes in a deep breath, hoping to god that this is the right decision. "i... i can't keep this in any longer, james," she says as she puts her cup down on the counter and walks a little closer to him.

"i've been hiding this for so long. even in the beginning of our relationship, i knew that things had changed between us — and for the better. i knew exactly what i felt for you and it killed me when you walked out on me." she tries to say, her voice breaking as she recalls their messy breakup.

"sweetheart, i'm so sorry about that. i didn't mean—" he starts to apologize, but she cuts him off with a gentle voice, —"james, it's okay. i forgive you."

"how can you? i hurt you — exactly in the way that i hoped i wouldn't, like everyone was telling all of us." he interrupts her once more, the guilt absolutely consuming him.

she laughs, taking another step closer to him.

"because... i love you. i think i have from the moment we met." she says, tears in her eyes and giving him a happy smile.

"you saved me, bucky. i never thought i would find love again, but you showed me that i can."

he gulps nervously as she finally gets as close to him as she can.

"james, i'm so in love with you i can't breathe without you. and i can't be with anyone — not pietro, no one — unless it's you." she says, laughing with happiness as she cups his face in her hands.

his face fills with an insane amount of relief and shock. "are you serious? you're not messing with me?"

she shakes her head, now wrapping her hands around his neck, while his find their way to her hips.

"it's true, james. i love you — only you." she says with so much love in her voice, leaning her forehead over his.

he laughs, feeling both relief and the biggest amount of happiness and love he's ever felt before.

"i love you too, doll," he murmurs, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around her body to pull her closer to him. "i could never stop loving you."

she smiles. "you promise?"

he nods, before his eyes glance down at her lips, hers following quickly after him.

they're both fighting the urge to take things too fast, so fast.

but, with her missing him so badly, she lets herself lose control.

"bucky?" she whispers breathlessly.

"yeah?" he asks, his voice raspy.

"would you kiss me already?" she asks, laughing when he nods with no hesitation.

without another second wasted, he connects their lips and pours everything into that kiss — her doing the same.

maybe even after all that drama and heartache, they made it — they found their way back to each other.

bucky pulls away — far too soon. "i am never leaving you again." he promises, holding her head in his hands.

she scoffs. "you better not."

"never again." he swears, pulling her back in, to appreciate that he has her back in his life and in his arms.

she giggles in excitement as he pulls away and wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her up into the air and spinning them around.

her arms wrap around his neck as her legs lift up into the air as he continues to spin them around.

"god, i love you." bucky murmurs, moving his head to kiss the side of her head when he sets her back down.

"i love you too, james buchanan barnes." she says with brutal honesty.

[twig-tea]

Top 5 Couple Fights

Oooooooh this is fun! Thank you for a relatively easy category because so often the fights in these shows are unearned and it is very frustrating. I'm still limiting myself to 2023!

Wen and Alan, Moonlight Chicken

This fight felt real, it felt lived in, and it felt heartbreaking even though we only saw some of it. These two men love each other, but love isn't enough to keep them together, and that realization is as heartbreaking as the fight itself.

My Personal Weatherman

I am obsessed with the fights in My Personal Weatherman because the characters often don't know they're in one, or are in two different fights at the same time. This is all tied to how much I love how well the miscommunication is done in this show. These fights are legible based on what we know about these characters and what they've seen, even when they're completely unnecessary, and I adore that. Of course the best one is the ending fight and not just because Segasaki ties up Yo's wrists in his shirt.

Jack O'Frost

[Not enough gifs of this actual fight and I need to finish this list so this is what you get]. The fight at the very start of this show escalated so quickly, at first I wasn't sure about it even while I appreciated the performances and the intimate way it was shot. But when we get the backstory and we finally understand how much has been withheld and said vs. not said between them, and where their anxieties were rooted and the source of these big feelings, this fight makes so much more sense. This is a show that really benefits from being watched more than once.

La Pluie

[for some reason tumblr is giving me this link to Shan's blog rather than @liyazaki so tagging you, friend!]

Patts was pushed and pushed and pushed, and he lashed out in his insecurity, and when he asked for reassurance (this lineeee) Saengtai refused to give it to him and instead lashed out out of his own insecurity. This was a painful fight that was fully earned; all of the characters and their choices were legible even as they were infuriating. And it led to a critical awakening of Saengtai who was so caught up in his own sad boy narrative he hadn't realized how much he was hurting everyone around him.

My Beautiful Man S2

Kiyoi and Hira's communication issues continuing past S1 is very believable. I said elsewhere that Hira's work on his self-worth is more like a spiral than a straight line and that's very relatable and realistic. Kiyoi being hurt by Hira not valuing Kiyoi's feelings was such an important lesson for Hira to get more than once. Again, so earned, and resulted in the characters self-reflecting and moving a little closer to whatever a healthy relationship means for these two lol

Laws of Attraction

How much do I Love Tinn seeing right through Charn and Charn being big mad at him for Perceiving him so well? All of their fights are so good because they're about boundaries and mutual respect at their core, and they actually listen to one another and are based on how well they know one another (rather than what so often happens, when the characters seem to forget who the person they're in love with actually is). This barely counts as fight but I love it and it's my list so it stays.

Bonus entry that's only for me (shh stop counting the above):

Mr. Cinderella S2

Nobody but me and like 2 other people watched this show, but I'm actually obsessed with the couple fight in Mr. Cinderella s2 so thank you for the chance to rant about it on main some more. I need to start by saying: this plot is ridiculous and the ending sucks. But within this show, Dung and Khoa have an established relationship that has been tested in S1 and is being tested harder in S2, and to a point, they actually stand together and weather the storm, and it was rewarding to watch. And then slowly everything happening ("everything" here being an ABSURD amount of melodrama) starts to wear on Khoa, who sees himself as the one solely responsible for everything, and he unlearns some of what he learned in s1, he stops relying on Dung as his support, stops telling Dung what's going on because he doesn't want to burden him, and stops trusting Dung's word about what is happening. And so, when the jealousy plot hits, it's actually believable that Dung would be mad at Khoa, not for cheating, but for not respecting Dung as a partner in their relationship. It's well done, I wish so much that it were in a better show so that I could actually recommend anyone watching (I don't). I've seen this trope (assumed cheating) done so badly and so unearned in so many shows, this was so refreshing.

Extra bonus: Best couple fight scene of all time?

Gameboys S2

[I give up on gifs of this scene; have them upset for other reasons instead!]

What I love about the way they fight in this show is that, beyond it being earned etc. etc., the dialogue is so raw. They repeat themselves, they just yell over one another, they get rude, they try saying something to de-escalate and it gets worse instead. This is not a carefully crafted speech, or a single perfectly delivered devastating line; this is raw emotion. I recognize this fight, I've been in this fight, this is what I sound like when I fight lol And we see them really fight at least twice, and the way they fight in ep8 has changed as a result of the earlier fight is also SO good.

[deeply-unserious-fellow]

The reason I think Alastor should be in the wrong(or at least mostly in the wrong) in his and Vox's falling out is that I don't think their relationship would be worth exploring as deeply as it sounds like it will be next season if Vox was the primary reason they started fighting, because it would do NOTHING for Alastor's arc.

Like- okay, Alastor's arc is very clearly going to be about learning that trusting people is Okay and not a sign of weakness, right? He's literally the only character in the show that is very clearly about the power of friendship who refuses to accept any sort of help, like even the VILLAINS are constantly hyping eachother up! If they fell apart because of something Vox did, and their relationship is going to be super important next season, wouldn't that not really do anything for Alastor's arc? Unless Vox pulling some weird shit is the ROOT CAUSE of Alastor's trust issues, but, given what we know about his past and how his ego seems to be the biggest contributor to said issues, I don't think it is. Alastor would HAVE to have contributed SIGNIFICANTLY to their falling out if their relationship is going to mean anything to his arc, because otherwise it just feels more like a weird aside then anything else? Like "oh yeah we used to be friends but then he did some weird shit and now we're not friends anymore". It adds nothing. There's nothing emotional for Alastor to confront in this scenario.

Which makes for a more interesting story, the relationship between the mc and someone from their past who, while they miss, isn't the kind of person they want to be around anymore so they don't really feel bad about cutting them off who ALSO doesn't pose any real Active Threat to the mc, or the mcs relationship with someone who they respected a lot but cut off because they felt the two of them were getting too close and we can't have THAT, now can we? It's the second one. It's the second one because the second one HAS HIGHER STAKES! The first one makes for a good one episode plotline, but for a season long arc? Takes where Vox is in the wrong actually make VOX a more interesting character to follow then Alastor, because that makes HIM the only one with an actual emotional stake in the conflict. But this isn't Vox's story. It's Alastor's story. Alastor is the main character. Which means, for their relationship to provide anything of value to the plot, Alastor needs to have emotional stakes in the situation too. The best villains are the ones that force your characters to grow and become better people(unless you're doing a silly little monster of the week type of show but THAT'S NOT WHAT HAZBIN IS-), and the only way Vox being the main antagonist next season is gonna cause any kind of growth is if Alastor is being forced to reconcile with his past.

Anyways uh, yeah that's it. I could do a tangent about how their relationship lowkey parallels Fizz & Blitzø(a comparison I made in this post but didn't actually go into depth on bcuz it wasn't relevant to the post beyond supporting my argument + didn't have much backing at the time), but I do NOT have the brain power to go in-depth comparing and contrasting that stuff rn, bcuz, despite the similarities, whatever the fuck Vox & Al have going on seems to be a LOT more Complicated and Sad then an accident and some dad-induced miscommunication. So I'm just gonna leave it at that :)

[penvisions]

of beskar and kyber {chapter 16}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorain x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: Three planets allow for you to make good memories with your newly establish clan. And one that rips it all away.

Word Count: 10.5k

Warnings: reader has an official name used for plot points, nicknames and pet names(all in Mando'a), canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical fighting and conflict, star wars and basic swear words (we use them like sprinkles here), mando'a language, mentions of self-harm scars, angst, emotional conversations, confessions, unwanted advances, creepy guys being creepy guys, fighting, threatening language, attempted kidnapping, stalking, fleeing from officers, resisting arrest, reader and din are wanted criminals y'all, sexual content, adult content, description of the male body (ahem), slight body worship, fingering, oral (m receiving), feelings, so many feelings, argumentative language, miscommunication, perceived rejection, fear of intimacy, abandonment trauma, sa trauma, ptsd trauma,. if i missed any please let me know and i'll add them!

A/N: a huge thank you to everyone who participated in this poll to theorize what the next arc holds in store for your lil clan! from here on out, the next 3-5 (ish chapters) will be an all-original arc. this one ends...um, yeah, please don't me mad at me, it's all for a good reason *literally runs away after posting and hides under her bed covers

ao3 || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

‘Your eyes were heavy with sleep, the bunk dark in the late hour of the day. You roused yourself from the blankets at the sounds of chatter outside the door of your shared room. You were feeling trembles in the Force, which had jolted you awake despite your body demanding to rest for longer. Your mind was foggy as you pulled on your tan coat over your simple black attire of a loose shirt and slim pants, the soles of your boots silent on the floor as you padded carefully to the door. You didn’t recognize the voices, but you were sure there were plenty of individuals you hadn’t had the chance to meet yet. You had only been here in the city for a few years, having been found to be in touch with the Force at the age of five, your mother sending you off with the nice man who had kept watching you while you helped to sell baked goods and local harvest back on K’ath.

You had been idly moving seashells about the stall, garnering the attention of a few Jedi visiting there on business and the course of your life was determined from there.

The sound of blasters, of gunfire, of explosions and the combatant sounds of light sabers was a cacophony of noise the closer you got to the door. Shouts and orders were being yelled, and it spiked anxiety in you. You quickly backed from the door and gathered your pack you had brought with you all those years ago. You shoved a second set of clothes, your pouch of credits you used sparingly, and the photo of your mother you had kept underneath your pillow. You had just received your official saber after spending the last week mining your crystal, when it was announced that you were to become a padawan come the end of the month, waiting for your assignment and master for training.’

The city was crowded, people rushing all around, running from the Temple and the surrounding gardens, outdoor training areas, and meditation spaces. It was loud, the sound of blasters and shouting a  roar in your ears as you tried to hide wherever you could squeeze yourself into, rushing off in sprints the second the coast was clear. Reaching up for the communication cuff you had stolen off of one of the dead bodies in the hall, you scrambled to punch in the chain code given to you back on your home planet.

It was silent as you requested a call, hope plummeting as it dropped. Once. Twice, three times.

But then it pinged, far too loudly and you heard a shout to search the gardens.

“How did you get this contact?” His voice sounded exactly the same and you thanked the Maker you had remembered his code correctly. He was your only hope, he was the only person you knew outside of those whose bodies you had seen laying all over the Temple. Taking a breath, you tried to talk as clearly as you could, brain scrambling to remember how the grammar worked for his language.

“Nuhunla jag, bic's ni.  Teh K'ath. Te kih beskar'gam adiik. Ni linibar gar gaa'tayl, gedet’ye.”

Funny man, it’s me. From K’ath. The little armor girl. I need your help, please.’

The ship was silent.

Din was seated at the makeshift table in the hold space, helmet placed on the top of it, amid the open med pack. Bandages and bacta spray cannisters spread out before him. He had finally managed to rid himself of the throbbing headache that had grown since yesterday. He had tended to you first, after getting the ship back on route, running at half power due to the engine you had blown in the wake of your emotional outburst. It was set on course toward a mid-rim planet where he could get the engine repaired. Toward Tatooine.

The door to his personal quarters was cracked open, allowing for the hush of blankets shifting to whisper out into the open space he occupied. Soft padding of your bare feet on the floor urged him into a too fast motion to reach for his helmet. But his body complained about the reach, head throbbing harshly despite the application of bacta he had just finished on his tender head. The back of it was sensitive to the touch, thick scab underneath his gently probing fingers.

“Wait.” He called out, hoping you could hear him as he gasped it out.

All movement on the other side of the door stopped. You would’ve listened to him even if he wasn’t about to announce that he was without his helmet. But he decided to be honest with you, to take the opportunity to bear his injuries with humility rather than hubris. To admit that he wasn’t well.

“My helmet, I removed it to tend to my injury.”

“I…don’t think I can put it back on just yet. Too painful.”

“…okay.”

“Do you need to…use the fresher?”

“No, I just…I was going to look for you. To…apologize.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.”

“I yelled at you.” You admitted quietly, ashamed that you had, though in the moment it felt justified. It felt like it was the only way to get your voice to work through the tumultuous offense of emotions from the day’s events. From what they meant.

“And I yelled back.”

“Are we….okay?”

“…yes. I want us to be, mesh’la.”

The ship was silent. His ears straining to hear any sound you might make as you stay motionless just on the other side of the door. You had rested your forehead against the metal of it, hands curled just below, supporting yourself on sore legs. Sighing, you opted for an easy question to bridge the weird silence.

“H-how long was I out for?”

“Two days, I tended to your smaller wounds when I changed you into clean clothes.”

“Thank you….”

“I have your armor out here, I cleaned the blaster powder off of it. Shined it for you, too.”

When you didn’t respond, a deep sigh bridged the gap.

“I know we need to talk about what happened. But…mesh’la you got so upset so quickly. And I know you didn’t meant to….but you threw me across the hold. And-“

“Did I hurt you? Did I scare you?” The words rushed from you, thoughts swirling l as you tried to recall those last moments of consciousness. But you couldn’t, they were a blur, all cloaked in emotions too intense and a surge of energy ran through you. Shuddering, you tried to tamp them down, not wanting to repeat the charged display.

“Yes, a little. To both.” The rasp of his voice confessed, stilling your heart as you realized you had done the one thing you were worried about. Especially in the wake of his injuries, his willingness to sacrifice himself for even a chance of everyone getting away safely.

You clenched your eyes shut tight, face feeling like it had been exposed to the cold for too long. Prickly and numb all at the same time.

“I know it wasn’t intentional.”

“That doesn’t matter. I still-“ A sob burst from your chest, masking the sound of Din getting up from where he had been. One of his hands snuck through the space of the cracked door, long fingers reaching for you. They brushed against your bare arm, circling around it and holding on in the only way he could a the moment.

“Please don’t cry, mesh’la. I’m okay.”

“Din…” You warbled, tears flowing and regret warming you from the inside out. Through a hiccup, you voiced your remorse. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s…it’s okay. I swear to you. We’re okay.” His hand squeezed your arm and you wanted nothing more than to curl into his chest and bury your face into his neck.

But for the time being, you gave the man his space, his privacy. Knowing the conversation to be had would be in small pockets, a lot for both of you to get into at all once.

Tatooine was the obvious choice for the repairs, you had agreed when Din told you of the route he had calculated. Requesting the hanger that Pelli resided in upon entering the atmosphere and talking with the dispatch team for air control. She was already waiting before the ramp had completely leveled out and settled, recognizing the ship. It took more concentration from Din to land the Crest, manually controlling every aspect as the landing gear had gone offline as one of the engines faltered and then failed. Another ramification of your outburst.

“Well, if it isn’t Mando! What did you do this time, you’ve got an entire engine out!”

“Doesn’t matter, will you be able to fix it?”

“Why, of course!” Her voice was loud, booming in the space of her hangar. Moving at a slightly slower pace, you walked down the ramp. A gasp falling from her lips as she noticed the beskar you now donned, the matching signets attached to the pauldrons.

“I was just jokin’ around last time, but the matching do-hickeys gotta mean she’s your girl, right?”

Helmet turning, the dark visor looked you over. Taking in the full visage of you in the armor that had been a gift, the shining metal making pride swell in his sternum. Neither of you responded to her teasing, opting to distract her with the presence of ad’ika. He was taking big, swinging steps down the ramp, looking adorable in his newly stitched outfit. Din had surprised you one morning, seated at the table with the child dressed in nothing but his underwear as his fingers worked a thread and needle through the burlap tunic. He had taken the time after some consideration and decided to turn the open ended tunic into a jumpsuit, allowing for ad’ika’s legs to move easier. He had tripped over the loose, open hem one too many times in an attempt to run from the running water in the fresher sink that signaled a bath for him.

It had both you and Din suppressing laughter, much to the pouting of the child.

“Oh Maker, there he is!” Pelli was respectful enough not to board the ramp, crouching down at the end of it and making grabby hands with her arms reaching out.

After a rather entertaining attempt at pleading her case for babysitting, your trio set off into town. You had a large pack secure on your shoulders, full of pieces to sell to pay for the repairs needed on the Crest. Din had been in no condition to take any jobs from Karga upon departure, nor had he wanted to immediately jump back into the time-consuming hunting in wake of his responsibility to find an appropriate guardian for ad’ika.

“Patu!” Ad’ika exclaimed from his snug position in the canvas bag around your shoulders. He was resting against your hip, hands reaching for a brightly colored gelatine…thing displayed on a vendors table amid a variety of local fruit.

“Patu? Ad’ika, what in the- is that a word?” Side-eyeing Din, you gathered a few fruits as well, making sure to get the ones a small claw pointed to along with some that looked interesting to you. Plus the one he already had picked up and taken a bite out of.

“Not that I know of.”

“How many languages can you speak, while we’re on the subject?”

“We weren’t, really. But it would be…quite a few.”

“Except for Jawa.” You snorted, recalling the broken words he tried to exchange with the scavenging people what seemed like so long ago now. But you were beginning to look back on that time of your life not with an air of frustration but consideration. The compound you had been stolen away to leading you to the life you currently led. Maybe there was still an echo of frustration, of personal failure for not being aware that day in town. Of having let your guard down while on a rare supply run into one of the few cities scattered within the vast sands of Tatooine.

But….for all the bad that had occurred from that one instance of capture, the things you had to endure and the feeling of losing all hope for a life of even moderate freedom. Of life itself. For everything that had happened to you while at that compound, it was a chapter of your life. You could let it taint you, poison you. And you had, for so long.

Now…now there was hope and the notion that it had all led to the present. Aboard a ship with two people you trusted and cared for. And it was all you could do, to not be consumed by it.

“Jawa is pointless, speaking to them in their native language or another yields the same results.” He turned the question on you, his curiosity peaked just as yours had been.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Attention only half on the wall of armor he made, you turned with a handful of credits to the man keeping watch over his wares. He passed back the difference with a frown, eyes trailing over you in an uncomfortable manner.

“A kid with me would look better than whatever type of creature that is.” A suggestive grin broke out across his face. His hand snatching out in an attempt to grab at your own. “Should ditch the suit and spend some time with me.”

Before you could even think of a response other than to take an offended and disgusted step back, Din was blocking your line of sight. His fist was around the vendor’s neck, lifting him from the ground a few inches as he leaned in threateningly.

“My helmet must be malfunctioning, because I’m pretty sure you didn’t just insult my vencuyot riduur right in front of me.” He didn’t so much say the words as growled them, pleasure blooming between your legs at the implication of his words and his instant defensiveness. You were more than capable of handling yourself and had proven as such to him, but for Din to raise his hackles and snap at this man was…endearing in the filthiest of ways.

Future wife.

“Since we’re on the subject, your pronunciation is very good. But some words seem to have slightly different meanings almost.” Shoving the vendor away from him, the man stumbled down, disappearing from view. It took your brain a second to catch up and realize that Din had been speaking to you. When he tilted his helmet to the side a bit, you mimicked him. With a modulated chuckle, he guided you with a hand on the small of your back further into the marketplace and repeated his words.

“We weren’t really.” You stuck your tongue out at him, prompting the child to imitate you with an adorable giggle. Din altered his next step to brush his shoulder against yours, pauldrons clinking softly and jostling you. When your foot faltered, he used the hand still around you to pull you close. “You grew up on Concordia, no?”

“Correct.”

“Well, Mando’a is an agglutinative language. It’s built on itself, two words becoming one over time, helping to bridge the different dialects, or simply to condense the language. So you speak Concordian, which is a different dialect than what I leaned from Akiz. He had been raised on Mandalore and that’s where we spent a few years hidden from the Empire’s forces.”

“You- you lived on Mandalore?” Static over the modulator relayed the force of his words, taken off guard by your casual revelation about your past. You paused, turning to face him fully, eyes focusing on the visor with a furrowed brow.  

“Y-yeah, is that…I thought I told you?”

“No…that’s- mesh’la, that’s-“ You swore you could hear the swallow he took to compose himself, words jumbled in his mind and in his mouth. “New.”

“Wait, did you never-?”

“The fighting corps were on Concordia. I didn’t leave unless it was for training and then we had to flee, go into hiding.”

“Ner kar’ta, I’m so sorry. It was such a beautiful planet. And you- you’re one of the most devout Mandalorian’s I’ve ever met, you deserved to have seen it in its prime.”

After a few more shared streets, looking over the things offered by the local vendors, you parted ways.

You set off in the direction of an armory you had once sold to, run out of someone’s personal abode, attached to a warehouse that allowed them to house a kiln, forge, and space for a considerable collection of wares for sale. The armored man going off to search for any signs of Mandalorians that had fled Navarro.

Now making your way slowly through the town, walking through the door streets the way you had come with your escort earlier, a successful sale of the pieces you had crafted during the time it took to travel here under your belt.

An apple rolled over the toes of your boots, garnering your attention. Following the path it must’ve taken with your eyes and then seeing a few more bouncing and rolling away in other directions, you noticed a woman struggling to get her hand back from the same vendor who had tried to do the exact thing to you.

“Hey! Leave her alone, creep!” Swift steps and you were prying the young woman’s arm from the vendors crushing grip. Maker, she couldn’t have been much older than her teens. The blaster holstered to the back of your hips was raised and pointed at the man, his hands reaching for his own but far too slow.

“Did you pay him?” You asked her over your shoulder, seeing the fruit that had flown from her basket at the man’s advances.

“N-no, I was about to when he grabbed me.”

“Gather what you want and then go home.”

“You don’t get to decide that!”

“I think you’ve done enough to her, the least you could do is take the loss of a single transaction.”

“You didn’t pay either, your Mando,” He spat the word out. “Took the payment back for your stuff as well.”

“Then maybe you should stop harassing your customers.”

Suddenly, a woman appeared behind him and knocked the blaster from where he had been reaching for it, frozen over the holster at the sight of yours already raised.

“Alright, let’s break it up.” She was tall and held the air of someone with authority. The shine of the sun on a badge pinned to her front had you lowering your weapon. Not wanting to complicate things further, you holstered it and turned to help the poor woman who had been harassed. She was scurrying around and picking up the fallen fruit.

The vendor slinked back behind his tables, beginning to gather all of his stuff up. Closing shop for the day and cutting his losses.

Once both were gone from the busy street, the woman approached you with a hand held out in greeting.

“Sioban, local official.”

“Sarad. Just passing through.”

“Oh don’t be that way, I’m not going to arrest you. C’mon let’s go grab a drink, you can tell me more about that Mandalorian armor you’re wearing. I’ve never seen such pure beskar.”

That’s how you found yourself opposite the friendly woman, pink drinks in both your hands and sharing traveling stories. She was kind, told you they didn’t have any signs of the type of struggle rumored to have occurred on the nearby planets. But she must’ve been a newly instated official, having no recollection of her from your past time spent on the dessert planet. You felt at ease with her, so alike to how you had been before, when you had traveled with Akiz. Curious, excited, wanting to know all there was to know. Even in wake of the knowledge and reality that you were on the run, but allowed the chance to be a child with a guardian to look after you and ensure your safety.

You must’ve lost track of time, because the quiet hush of the bar’s patrons silenced as a tall, broad figure appeared in the doorway. Visor scanning the crowd. It picked back up once he didn’t immediately stalk toward someone he was in search of, the patrons deeming him a visitor just like themselves. Upon seeing you, his steps picked up and he was beside the table you were seated at. The slight crook of his helmet beckoning you and calling you silently back to the ship.

“Indulge me, ner kar’ta.” You whispered into the side of his helmet, body leaning in close. The woman on the other side of the booth let a knowing smile overtake her delicate features as she realized who this man was to you. Not a controlling father or partner coming to fetch you, but a loved one simply catching up with you after an afternoon apart. “Just one more drink, then back to the ship.”

“Fine. But then we depart.”

“Sioban, this is…um, Mando-“ You looked to him, unsure if he was okay with you introducing him as such, at the nod of his helmet, you continued on. “Ner kar’ta, this is Sioban. She was kind enough to get me out of some potential trouble.”

“Thank you, for looking out for her.”

“You’re very welcome, Mando. She looked about ready to pummel the man, but he’s known for being involved with a local gang and I didn’t want her to have a mark on her back.”

“What happened?”

“That vendor from earlier was harassing a young girl, so I stepped in to intervene.”

A gurgling laugh burst into the air as ad’ika’s small head popped up from the bag around his shoulders.

“Oh! A baby!” Sioban squealed, leaning over the table to wiggle her fingers at him, prompting more carefree laughter. “I didn’t know you had a baby.”

“He’s cute, no?” You carefully wrangled him from the canvas and handed him to her, trusting that she wasn’t a threat. Ad’ika was a wiggling bundle in her arms, cooing and gurgling as he lavished the attention she was dotting on him. You moved aside for Din to settle into the booth, cramping you in the small space.

The walk from the bar in the city center back to the hangers in the outskirts was quiet, but comfortable. Ad’ika was on your shoulders, pointing his little claws up at the shooting stars streaking through the sky. You were both munching on a sweet hand pie from the bar, offering the small child bites you tore from the wrapping. A bite handed to him and then one for you, but the next one about to be popped from your mouth was stolen midair by a quick hand.

The hiss of the seal on Din’s helmet took you by surprise, the glimpse of his stubbled jaw even more so as he popped the bite of the pie into his own mouth. The flash of a plush bottom lip stole your attention, hidden away as quickly as it had been exposed, but even so a bloom of desire flared to life in your gut. A claw tangling tight in your hair as you delayed the next bite pulled your attention away, a grunt of discomfort loud as you gently reprimanded him to be kind.

Feeling his own eyes sweep over you made it hard to concentrate on carefully tearing another bite from the pastry.

Future wife. Vencuyot riduur. Riduur.

Riduur.

Riduur.

For the rest of the trip back to the ship, you couldn’t quell the prickling of desire all over your body, arousal pooling between your legs. Fueled by the two drinks you had deemed an appropriate treat for the day. Once putting the passed out child in the hammock in the larger part of the hull space, Din joined you in the small cabin that was his personal quarters.

Din’s hands were soft over your thighs, fingers caressing the old scars born of anger and desperation set into your skin. The clothes you were wearing were too hot all of a sudden, heat and the prickling desire flaring all over. But you were so tired and all you could do was let out an appreciative groan as your lashes fluttered closed and your head lolled to the side atop your pillow.

“Din, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” The words were mumbled, slurred into the air on a puff of breath. A confession and an apology rolled into one sleepy sentiment. “Vencuyot riddur.”

I love you. Future husband.

Fingers stilling, they pressed to you, palms wide and gripping tight over your thighs, a hitch of breath given life through his helmet. Then his hands were moving up up up, over your middle, your chest, your neck. They were gentle as they cupped your face, but you didn’t move, allowing him to press the forehead of his helmet to your temple. The heat of his body hovering so close above you had your legs moving to wrap around his waist.

Insistent prodding of him hard and wanting against your hip ignited a strike of excitement through your middle to settle low in your stomach. Through the fog of fast approaching sleep, you tried to roll your hips against his, but you were suddenly tilting, body manipulated on your side and back pulled to his chest.

A rumble of a chuckle filled the small space was the last thing you remembered as sleep finally won over.

“We need to be quick, just a supply run and to see if there’s a covert on world.” Din’s words were quiet, mumbled. You only hummed in response, not even stirring when the man’s arms wrapped around your body and pulled you flush against him. The hard line of him in his underwear gently prodded at the small of your back.

That sent a bolt of pleasure down your stomach, his hand chasing it as he rested his palm against the skin of your navel. Before his fingers could delve underneath the waistband of your shorts, you were shifting in his grip to face him. You didn’t say anything as you began to place open mouthed kisses along his chest, his hands gripping you tight. His chest was so firm, the muscles of endless training molding him and tempting you to lavish attention.

You certainly weren’t too tired now, to indulge.

Hands ghosting up, you placed them flat and pushed. And it shouldn’t have sparked pleasure laced with an unbearable heat straight to your core as he allowed you to urge him on his back, but it did. The heady notion that he was allowing you to move him how you pleased lighting you up and desire pool low. You threw a leg over his thighs, straddling them low and leaned down to attach your lips to the column of his neck. He groaned out, crackling the speaker in his helmet and you smirked against his skin. Parting your lips, you licked a line up to the bottom of it before you sunk your teeth into the side of his throat. He jolted, entire body convulsing at the nip you were bold enough to place.

“Mesh’la-“

You shushed him with a puff of hot air, soothing the bite with your tongue before moving down down down.

Hands firm on his ribs, you nipped at each of his nipples, getting rewarded with twin grunts and a harsh jerk of his cock against your stomach. His thick fingers moved to tangle through your hair, before they were pulled suddenly away.

“Sorry, I didn’t-“

“Do not apologize,” You kissed into the skin of his stomach, reaching up for his hands that hovered just shy of touching. Moving them back to where they had been, you squeezed his wrists in a reassuring motion. “Din, if I don’t want you to do something or I’m uncomfortable, I will tell you.”

“Just…don’t want to be too forward…or rough.”

“You’re gonna need to hold onto something,” Mouth still trailing over him, you swirled your tongue around his belly button, stomach muscles twitching and he bucked up at the sensation of the heat that began to simmer just below. “When I get my mouth around your cock.”

“Shit, you have a mouth on you, huh? We ah really should –“ His words morphed into a low moan as your lips kissed the tip of him through the fabric. Mouthing gently at him, you felt your own body begin to spark. The thought of taking him fully in your mouth too temping to ignore. He had felt so delicious against you the two times you’d been intimate with him and you wanted to give him everything.

Mouth, indeed, you thought as you continued to mouth at him through the fabric, a wet spot sprouting.

Fingers locking in your hair, his head knocked back as you slid your hands around your face to hook fingers into the band of his underwear and pulled. His cock bobbed up, a quiet slap against his stomach, slick at the tip and hard.

Flattening your tongue, you dragged it up the underside of him, flicking it against the tip as you lifted your head. The visor was aimed down at you, but you could barely glimpse it in the shine of faint lights along the walls.

“This okay?”

“Fuck, it’s more than okay, mesh’la.”

Ducking back down, you felt his fingers clench in your hair. Breath ghosting over him before you took him in your hand, fisting him at the base. You knew he was big from feeling him against you, as he glided through your folds and rutted. But to have him in your hand, the heat of him, the pulsing felt against your palm, the musky scent of him. It was all so much and you wanted to take your time. But there was a niggling question in the back of your mind. Contemplating voicing it, you placed chaste kisses all along the length, you took a breath, feeling the weight of his tip against your bottom lip.

“Has-“

“No,” He growled out at the sight of you draped over his legs, mouthing at the most precious part of him. “You’re the only one, will be the only one.”

Your response was to wrap your lips around him, tongue collecting the shine of his arousal that was dribbling from his tip. Knuckles popping with the force of his grip, you swallowed him down with a hum.

Bubbling laughter and then a muted crash of something through the door broke the moment, attention pulled from him slowly as you ran your hands down his twitching stomach. Releasing him with a pop, you brushed tingling fingers against him, cupping his cock gently before you were gone completely from the bed.

“I’ll get him, ner kar’ta.” Your voice was smug, knowing he was internally battling two very different sets of instincts. “Hop in the fresher and take care of yourself.”

“He has the worst timing.”

“We can pick this up once he goes down for his nap later.” Were your parting words before the door hushed open and closed, leaving him alone in the darkness.

You pulled your hair up away from your face, face still heated from being pressed so closely to the furnace that Din was. But you masked it well, searching all around the ship for the little figure of ad’ika.

The clink of you lining up rings on the makeshift table roused him from his light slumber. Metallic sound prickling across his temples and stirring the low-grade headache he had laid down with last night into something stronger. Something that made it hard to focus. The scab was gone completely, in the weeks it took to stay on the move, traveling through hyperspace more often than being stationary on land these days. It had healed with the aid of routine bacta treatments and more time without his helmet. He had taken to spending nights up in the room he had se up for you, the hatch to the ladder securely closed to ensure his privacy up on the smaller second story of the ship.

You didn’t mind, wanting to respect his need for privacy. For a safe space to heal and take care of himself in a way that he hadn’t had to as of yet. His injury had been severe, almost stealing him away from you and it remained in the back of your mind. Remorse for having agitated it in a fit of emotion the very same day it occurred. Even with his reassurances that you hadn’t done too much to worsen it.

Seated at the makeshift table, you were finishing up the newest piece of chainmail for the small collection to be sold on the next planet. For fuel, for food, for more supplies. It didn’t matter what you needed, you wanted to ensure that there was a small build-up of credits for whatever your little trio might need. Your clan, now. The Armorer’s words stitched through your mind, through your heart.

“Meshla, I think I need to remain on the ship this time.” He was without his armor, dressed only in trousers and a long-sleeved shirt similar to the one you often slept in. All back and well worn, boots adorning his feet though he was slow in his movements. One look at him, the black visor, and you could tell by the stillness he had adopted since sitting opposite you. He wasn’t feeling well, something he wasn’t used to voicing.

“I don’t mind refueling and getting supplies.” You carefully began to put your tools away, wrapping them up in the cloth you had laid out atop the makeshift table to avoid making too much noise while he slept.

“The route says another couple of hours, you don’t have to put up your stuff just yet.”

“It’s okay, if your head is hurting, I don’t want to make it worse with constant noise.” Contemplating your next words, you didn’t want to offend the man across from you, but you worried…And you recalled the signets that had been worn by those injured in battle. To display the difficulty they might have with communication or mobility, for other Mandalorian’s to show they respects and act accordingly should the individuals need aid.

“Do we need to consider finding a welder?”

“Something for your armor? Or to sell to?”

“No, ner kar’ta, for… um a mir’shupur sigil for your armor?”

Brain injury. Disabled.

“No.” It was gruff, his voice holding none of the softness it adopted when speaking to you. He leaned his hands atop the makeshift table to stand.

“O-okay, I was just-“

“You should be as quick as possible, once we land.” His broad back was to you, muscles tense and steps slow as he walked away, shutting the conversation in more ways than one. You stayed in your seat well after he had disappeared. The tightness in your throat hurting as you tried to will the tears that had sprung up away. He wasn’t mad, you tried to reassure yourself. You had just spoken out of term, unthinkingly. That’s all, just a miscommunication. They were bound to happen.

You were halfway down the street when you heard a low murmur of chatter, turning slightly to feign interest in the food stall beside you, you caught a glimpse of orange and yellow. Officers. From the New Republic. Two of them were entering the storefront you had just left. Where you had just conducted business with the owners. They hadn’t asked after your name nor of where you had learned your skills, but they would most likely give a description if prompted.

Barely turning the corner to another street, is when a voice shouted aloud for you to stop.

Your quick steps broke out into a sprint, trying to put as much space between you and them before they gave chase.

“Hey! We’ve got a warrant out for you, stop!”

“Kriff.” You cursed, ducking beneath a pair of Verpine aliens as they carried beams of wood through the street. Dirt kicking up as you skidded to take a sudden turn down a narrow alley. Jumping onto the speeder parked in the small space, you reached for the roof and pulled yourself up. Breath huffing, you laid flat on your back, ears straining to listen for the officers.

“She must’ve gone this way, there’s a den known for housing criminals.”

“Alright, let’s go. Quick, before she gets off world.”

Their steps didn’t follow down the alley you had all but hurt your back to turn into, continuing on down the street until you couldn’t hear them anymore.

As you began to briskly walk through the residential streets, you sensed the attention of someone else focused on you. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. It was more concentrated than when Din had been a formidable figure at your side on previous planets. But you were more concerned with getting back to the ship, the officers only a few streets behind. Most likely still in pursuit.

Ignoring it since you didn’t have the time to turn the tables and stalk them in return, ambushing them and demanding to know why they were following you, you continued on. Thoughts focused on getting back to the outskirts of the small city where Din had opted to land the ship. The docking hangers sparse and spread out around the dense city.

“Ner kar’ta!” You called out as soon as the ramp to the ship was down, the hissing of the hydraulics sending a chill through you as you rushed up. You worried for a second you were being too loud, but you had picked up on the way the man was slower to respond since removing his helmet for long periods of time over travel. You suspected he was hard of hearing in one of his ears, a result of the charges he favored but definitely a side effect of his more recent injuries. “Ner kar’ta, can we run my chain code? I almost just got arrested and I wanna know why. I haven’t done anything the last six years except for travel with you.”

You didn’t hear any response, instead the ramp closed and the ship started up. Only when it was safely out of the planets atmosphere and a flight plan coordinated for hyperspace, did Din’s form appear as it came down the ladder.

Listening as he explained the puck he had received with information of you when he took the job of hunting you down so long ago had updated. Just as there was a warrant out for his arrest, there was one for you as well. For aiding in the escape of Qin, the job that Ran had set up and into motion. It wasn’t surprising, you had both been aboard the prisoner ship, abundant with cameras and security droids. But it was still worrying to have been noticed so closely.

That it would be easy for any bounty hunter or local official or officer to be able to recognize you now.

Din retreated to the cot, leaving you in the hold space once you assured him you were okay and nothing had happened in the city beyond the quick errands and resupply of fuel. You told him of the expenses and he waved a hand as you listed them off. Citing that it was your credits covering everything and he wasn’t concerned with them if you weren’t.

Days passed, much the same. You spent time entertaining and caring for ad’ika. Din joining you in the same bed some nights, others he slept alone. It wasn’t uncomfortable, it was just an understanding of him needing space and you respected that. You needed it too, thoughts of being wanted publicly and officially not sitting well with you. You had done a good job of staying below the radar until now, and it was hard to adjust to the notion that you could be recognized while out and about.

The ship was stationary, docked at a hangar on some plush planet, a sight of tourism and capitalism. A collection of casinos and gambling rings, race tracks and so many other things for people to lose countless hours and credits indulging in. Din had deemed it a safe enough environment to rest for the morning before disembarking. He had returned to bed after securing the ship and asked you to pay the docking fee.

You had, a quick transaction, reassurance that you were protected here even so deep in the city from the droid who registered the ship. Making a pod of caf, you checked on a deeply sleeping child up in what was considered your bunk. He had practiced with the Force some early this morning, a way to distract him from the nightmares that woke him at too early of an hour. You had left the tangle of limbs and blankets that had been you and Din down in the hold space to tend to the child. He had been slumbering ever since, successful in manipulating a snack toward him, not once but twice with gently and steady encouragement from you.

“Hey,” You broke the silence of the hull. Leaning against the doorway to the small cabin. You were cradling a steaming mug in your hands, stripped down to your socked feet, trousers, and tank top. Din hummed, letting you know he was awake. “I wanted to apologize for earlier, when I asked after a mir’shupur signet. I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t recovering.”

“I know.”

“I’m just worried, you’ve been doing the bacta treatments and you say the scabbing is mostly gone. But I see the way you’ve slowed down, how delayed you are to respond when you don’t have your helmet on.”

“I’ll be fine, mesh’la.” His baritone voice was soft, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as yourself. But he was improving, it was just slow going, as with all head injuries. Bacta or not, and if there was the luxury of time, of endless credits and the ability for him to, you would’ve suggested a bacta tank.

It was just too unrealistic a notion with the current predicament. Lack of time, lack of resources, lack of privacy that would allow for it to be possible. If you could take his pain and discomfort, you would do so in a heartbeat. But you didn’t dare voice that sentiment, knowing he would argue that he would take the consequences of his actions, because he stood by them and that was the way things were.

“I know, I just…I care for you and I want to help, I just…I spoke out of term and I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“….you didn’t.” A sigh. “I considered it as well, back on Nevarro, just…just in case it was that serious.”

“I just want you to be okay and if I-“ A hiccup bubbled up, tears hot and spilling through your lashes, “If I made it worse even just a little when I threw you across the hull, I-“

Din was suddenly pushing up from the bed, gloved hands coming up to wipe away the tears trailing down your cheeks. The mug was gently pried from your hands, placed atop the makeshift table before he engulfed you in a comforting embrace.

“Fuck, take what you need, take what you want.” Din’s voice was deliciously low and desperate as he felt the way you moved against his hand. The modulator crackled slightly with the timbre of his words, the force of them on a heavy exhale. Your skin was so hot, and your pleasure was obvious as slick coated his hand, he was trying not to let his instincts and past experiences take over. Not wanting to ruin this for you, not wanting to scare you off or trigger you into a silent episode as he had so stupidly done far too many times before. “You deserve to feel good, mesh’la.”

He crooked his fingers, pads gliding over something deep in you that hitched your breath. He did it again and pressed deliberately, a loud moan tearing itself from your throat as your back arched. Wide eyes were trained on him when he looked up from where his hand was encompassing you, pushing into your core. His eyes trailed up the sweat slick expanse of your skin through the visor, up your stomach to your breasts that were rocking with the movements you had begun to instinctually make. Your peaked nipples looking like too much of a temptation atop the soft flesh, your neck was flushed dark, the heat encompassing you obvious on your sun-kissed skin, craning as you tried to fight the urge to give into your pleasure completely.

Your expression was wrecked. Your eyes were blown out to leave only a sliver of their true color. Your plush lips were swollen from biting into them as his hands had brought you to the precipice. They were parted as you tried to catch your breath but all that was falling from them were moans that went straight through him, igniting the blood in his veins and settling low where he was hard and straining against his trousers.

Din was tempted to darken the room and remove his helmet to trail his lips over everything he was seeing right now. As if reading his thoughts, you licked your lips before speaking in a desperate tone, panting slightly with the effort to get the words out around your pleasure.

“I want to kiss you.”

His fingers stilled inside you, his thumb atop the bundle of nerves that had you gasping just a second ago freezing. You whimpered at the stillness, his hands still on you. You felt your hips undulate still, desperately searching for the friction that had pleasure rolling over you just a second ago.

“I want to feel your face in my hands even if I can’t see it, to feel your lips trail down my body.” You keened, the words falling unbidden from your mouth as you writhed underneath and against him. “I’d let you, I’d let you touch me, mark me.”

They must’ve been the wrong words, the wrong thing to say because the energy in the room shifted from charged and sensual to stiff and uncomfortable. Fear trickled down your spine, making you shudder. You had never wanted someone to touch you the way you were asking, begging for. Never. And you had felt so safe, so sure he would want the same that you blurted out your desires as the haze of pleasure had overtaken you.

You had messed up, if the complete rigid form of Din in front of you was any indication. Spoken too honestly and too selfishly. Insultingly, of his Creed.

“We can’t…I-I don’t...” Din slowly removed his hand from in and around you, placing it on the bed near your hip. He ignored the way it seemed a shame to waste the taste of you on the fabric when his mouth was such a better home for it. He moved his weight around slightly, so he wasn’t hovering over you as you spoke, but was perched near your legs. You sat up a little as well, bringing your arms that had been grasping at his biceps and shoulders underneath you to push up. Bottom lip coming between your teeth, and you worried the skin, emotions spiking and trying to keep them at bay.

Despite your efforts, you felt a lump form in your throat, the hot shame of speaking such things lighting up your body from the inside out in a rather unpleasant way. Replacing the heat of desire that had been flooding you just seconds ago. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath to try and center yourself.

When you opened them back up, you had reverted back to the neutral expression you would hold around him when you first met and all those weeks after. The tightening of his shoulders told you as much.

“You don’t want to kiss me.” Your voice was small, taking on the void of emotion it had for most of your life. You were shrinking into yourself, bringing your limbs close and making the space you took up as small as possible, a far cry from how you had just been stretched out across the entire bed. His bed. Your bed. The bed you shared.

You had made an absolute fool of yourself, writhing around and begging for him in a way that was too uninhibited. You knew that it was a serious thing, for him to even consider removing his helmet.

Firsthand, you had seen how he refused to remove it even in the face of death, in the case of extreme injury that needed to be tended to. Feeling small, insignificant, foolish for asking after such a thing from a man sworn to do nothing of the sort. He undressed, he allowed you to see and feel his body, a test to the boundaries and meaning of his faith already. Selfish, the word rang loud in your head, you were selfish. And you had no right to be. “You don’t want to kiss me.”

“It’s….it’s an intimate thing…I don’t…I have…” He didn’t know how to get the words out even as they all rushed around his head, overlapping with each other. He watched the way your face composed into a mask, an unreadable cover that didn’t give way the crush his words were causing.

It didn’t matter the commitment he made to you, his actions now stung, his lack of a response as to why hurting like a blade imbedded in your chest. He would touch you, he would rock against your body with his own, but he didn’t want to kiss you. Stupid, you thought, how stupid it was to want to kiss someone. Such a dumb, adolescent thing to yearn for.

With a blink your eyes cleared of any pleasure you had lingering on your skin, in your very nerves from him. You calmly reached out across the bed to pull your bandeau top back on before slipping the discarded tank top back over your shoulders.

“You don’t want to be intimate with me in that way….it’s- it’s not just your Creed. You don’t- you don’t want me physically the same way I want you. I’m- Maker, I am so stupid.”

Your words might as well have come from a droid for all the emotion they were devoid of. You reached further to retrieve your underwear and stood, your legs a little shaky from the magic that Din’s fingers had been casting on you, had used to distract you from the truth of the situation. That you would never get to feel all of him, that he would never give you all of himself. You felt his reach to help steady you, but you stepped further away, closer to the door of the cabin as you stepped into the fabric and tugged it up hastily.

“No, no, that’s not! It’s…you’re so… just…” He wanted to ask if you were sure, if your words were real and not just you getting lost in the pleasure of the moment. His helmet coming off was something that needed to be planned, needed to be wanted, by everyone involved. He’d never…he had never removed it to be with someone and Maker, he wanted to so with you, but he hadn’t wanted to overwhelm you.

He hadn’t wanted to scare you off with the meaning behind it, the undermining breach of the Creed he devoted himself to.

But you couldn’t know that, because he hadn’t voiced it. Nor the dreams he awoke from in the night of your lips on his. It didn’t matter if he had made a commitment to you, had even uttered a loving decree, he didn’t want to remove his helmet and it hurt.

“I asked too much of you, I apologize. I didn’t mean to overstep my place, jatne vod.” You bowed your head slightly, brain shutting back down in the face of daring to ask for something once in your life only to be turned down so quickly. It shouldn’t feel like your heart was being impaled, but your breath was shallowing out as it did so, your chest aching in a way you weren’t familiar with. Rejection, it stung like nothing you had ever experienced, not even akin to the blade of your saber during training drills. And then: heartache, your mind betrayed you as it gave word to it.

Of course he wouldn’t want to remove his helmet for you, he hadn’t even wanted to remove it on the brink of death. He was already cruising the line of his Creed by allowing you to see his body, to share in pleasure with him in that way, and you felt shame, disappointment, greedy. And you didn’t like it.

He was motionless, the stab of the term you called him harsh in his chest. Piercing him and stinging far worse than any injury he could have sustained.

Din stood, grabbing his shirt from where it lay on the floor, he tugged it over his helmet, only to hear the door to the cabin hush as it opened the second the fabric was blocking his visor. When he pulled the collar down to rest along his neck, you were gone from the space in front of him, the door left open. The rustling of fabric and the clinking of your pauldrons had his skin buzzing.

“San?” Din’s voice was frantic as he tried to pull the flight suit top closed quickly over his shirt, his fingers not quite able to grasp at the zipper for a second. He reached for his gloves as his head swiveled as he searched for where you ran off to in the hold. The sound of the ramp door opening and lowering settled heavy in his middle as he finally managed to pull his gloves on, still wet with the tears that had fallen from your eyes. He didn’t see any shadows or movement about the ship, crazed energy began to wash over him. You had run. You had run from him. You had run from him and left the ship.

He repeated it louder as he marched down the ramp, he reached up to press the side of his helmet to activate the heat sensor. He followed your steps down the ramp with the visor, his own quiet beneath him despite the flood of emotions overwhelming him and urging him to run. To chase. He followed the trail through the landing pads of the docking area before they were lost in the dozens and dozens that led into the hectic streets of the city.

It was after an hour he realized he hadn’t put on any of his armor, essentially walking into the dense city streets naked. His flight suit pants, separate top zipped up over an undershirt, boots and gloves. He suddenly felt worried for you, donned only in your clothing, no armor either. He knew you could hold your own but that didn’t do much to help ease his mind as he realized he had eyes tracking his every movement. His helmet garnering unwanted attention.

He needed to regroup, if he had any chance at tracking you. He knew you, knew how well you could hide and stay hidden from those searching for you. But he also knew you. That you liked the fancier places to eat, the fresher food served in such places, the colored drinks they offered. That you liked the comfort of a soft bed, the security of a hotel, to look out the windows at the ever-bustling city even well into the night as sleep pulled at you and made you lethargic. Despite not liking crowds, you flourished in the busy marketplaces, making idle chit chat with the vendors, asking after local fruits and wanting to try each one.

Sighing, he scanned the street he was on one last time, visor unable to pick up on your trail. Turning, he vowed to get dressed properly and find you. He needed to. He needed to swallow the self consciousness that had taken over him in that moment and still was. He needed to tell you that he wanted to kiss you too, more than anything. But that he hadn’t kissed anyone. You would be the first, the only. But he had to find you. You had to know.

But come nightfall, he hadn’t been able to find any leads. Having secured his armor and weapons before securing ad’ika in the bunk of the hull, with a promise to return with you in his arms. Even when he had ducked into a bar whose sign surely called you toward it. Asking the guard at the door if he had seen someone of your description, but they had claimed not to. Even when he had scoured the marketplace, hoping to pick up any signs of you purchasing a replacement cloak or a new pack of cigarras that you were so fond of.

It was like you had vanished, no trace of you to be found.

Din doesn’t think his heart had stopped thudding heavily in his chest the whole time he searched.

You tried to keep the tears at bay, but they stung in the column of your throat, they stung behind your cheeks. Your head was throbbing with the effort to focus on things in front of you. The waning pleasure thrumming in your body no longer welcome as shame overrode it. The suns were too bright, and the crowd was too large. But you continued to walk, continued to put distance between you and the one place you thought you had been safe to ask for things. To be yourself.

Ignoring the concerned and wary glances of onlookers around the busy streets, you pushed on. No destination in mind other than to get as far away from the docking station set up in the middle of the city.

Catching sight of a flashing neon sign, you turned, coming face to face with a man standing guard at the door to a bar. Trying your best to smile, to appear put together, you greeted him in Basic. He stepped aside, allowing you to enter. Thankful for the simple clothing you preferred to appear classy enough to allow you admittance. Though you did regret not thinking to grab your cape or armor in the quick rush away from the embarrassing disaster that was now your afternoon. You had only managed to grab your saber handle and the pouch you kept attached to your thigh in your haste.

At least you had a way to protect yourself, at least you had credits.

But even the attempt at seeking peace to calm down and gather your thoughts seemed to be a mistake on your part.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ all alone?” A twi-lek approached you, broad in the shoulders and donned in all black. The leather of his headdress was stitched with yellow, complimenting the tone of his skin. Lekku draped over his shoulders. He didn’t sit, which you were thankful for, but he did hover directly in front of your small booth, a drink in his hand.

“Just having a moment alone,” You didn’t look up from your meal, not wanting to entertain the man even the slightest. Even if it didn’t feel like it at the moment, you were committed to another. And you would never betray Din’s trust. Even… even if it meant you would never get to experience the feel of his lips on your own.

The announcement of his commitment to you, his intention of courtship. It had been a lot, but you were okay with things being an eventuality. Or at least, you had thought that you were. But you had failed to express yourself properly…or you had done so correctly but in the wrong circumstance, with the wrong words. Still unaccustomed to feeling such strong physical emotions and urges, still unaccustomed to the ways in which you were both discovering each other’s bodies in such a safe space.

It was a confusing thing, due to the instances he would disengage the seal on his helmet and allow you a glimpse. Though rare, they made you feel like he had unfailing trust in you, that he was comfortable.

“I can get you another drink, if you’d like?” He slid into the booth, effectively setting your instincts on high alert. He didn’t look like a threat, but his presence was unwelcome, and you were already at an emotional capacity and unwilling to entertain civility.

“No.”

“C’mon, a pretty face like yours shouldn’t look so glum.”

“Then leave.”

When he didn’t get up from the seat opposite side of the table, you did. Placing a few credits on the table as you did so.

You weren’t paying attention, head not on a swivel or senses on alert as you walked out of the bar, the guard bidding you a good evening.

A nod in return, you ducked out into the busy street, missing the feel of gauze from your cloak. The crowd was too much, the skin of your arms covered in goosebumps as you brushed past people moving too slowly. Unsure of where to go, you entertained the spare thought of checking into a hotel and contacting Din to ensure you were safe. Too wrapped up in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the shadow of someone hiding just inside the alley you walked past.

A hand shot out and you shoved your own out to throw the person into a wall. But you had moved too slowly. The larger person pulled you into the darkness of the canopied alley, the suns having set completely and bathing the planet in a dark blue sky lit up with sparkling stars.

“Let me go.” You growled, unwilling to go down without a fight even through the sheer exhaustion that had taken hold of you from the day. But they were strong, you had to concentrate and harness a wave of energy at them to get them to back off. They let it happen, grunting when their back connected hard with the brick of buildings side. He recovered quickly, lunging at you, pinning you to the opposite wall of brick.

“No can do, little one. Your mother sent me to fetch you,” Thrashing, your fists thunked against his armor, echoing down the length of the dark alley.

The pinch of a large needle being pushed into the skin of your neck was the last thing you felt, barely able to get your mouth open to protest. The contents of the syringe acting fast and you felt your body go limp, mind fighting against the haze that was washing over you. Hands gripped you tight, arms closing around you and dragged you off…

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dividers: by the lovey @cafekitsune

[lychee-drinks]

Can i request a scenario where

Vasco and jay's s/o take away cuddling access for a month? Like they're in a fight or something

Hope this wasn't too confusing!

Vasco and Jay’s reaction to their S/O taking away cuddling for a month after a fight

(a/n): don’t actually do this in real life

Vasco

So you and Vasco got into a fight over the fact that Vasco always chooses Burn Knuckles over you. You didn’t mind that he valued them a lot and part of the reason why you fell for him were his ideals in the gang. But more often than not, if he had the choice to go to the arcade with Burn Knuckles or to hang out with you, he’d choose Burn Knuckles.

This was a habit of his and it wasn’t the first time the two of you argued over this. Because sure, you understood the issues with gang violence going on and how he wanted to be a dedicated leader, but he was neglecting someone important in the process.

So in retaliation, you banned him from cuddling and a lot of affection from you.

Vasco didn’t know of course. You didn’t want to tell him.

Whenever you and Vasco met, Vasco was always affectionate and would hug you tight. But after your decision, you brushed him off.

“Sorry I’m not feeling it.”

And Vasco was dumbfounded, because you always hugged him back.

He thought nothing of it at first and eventually, he realized you weren’t being affectionate or even cuddling him whenever the two of you did hang out. If he was chilling at yours watching a movie, you would sit up the whole time.

It’s eating him up inside. It’s making him anxious and he’s asking Jace what’s up. He isn’t gonna hold himself back so he asks you what’s up and if there’s something wrong. He’s on his knees and everything.

“Hey, you’ve been really distant to me lately please tell me what’s wrong because it’s really eating me up inside.”

And then you feel bad. The look on Vasco’s face is that he was genuinely worried there was something you were hiding from him.

So you apologize to him, telling him that you just wanted to get some petty revenge, but he really needed to make a change. So he understood the message that he really needed to focus on you and you learned that you should never do something like this again.

Jay Hong

You and Jay got into a fight over Jay’s secretiveness. He’s always been the quiet type of guy, doesn’t really explain things and unintentionally leaves things out.

So then there’s a bad miscommunication between the two of you, not because you didn’t understand, but he didn’t explain something important to you. And it pisses you off because you just want to understand him better.

What’s the answer that you choose? To take away cuddling access for a month.

Jay is an affectionate person. He’s more hugging over talking much. So hearing this from you, it will sound like hell.

You’re upfront about it to Jay and he’s devastated. Jay is a person of few to no words at all and communicates through his affection.

Since you’re pissed at him, you turn down his advances and when you do so, he’s left standing there wondering why.

It’s a bit of a painful look he has that I don’t think you could continue doing that for a month.

So with Jay, don’t take away his cuddling access for a month over an argument because you will lose one of his main forms of communication and his hurt look will devastate you.

But once you really talk with him, he gets the message and really tries to make a change.

[obsessionexpert]

Star Sans Poly But Its Aromantic Ink Edition

Ink sans call Dream and Blue his partners. Someone remarks on how its strange (Could be ink or blue or a stranger) and Ink is like They're his mission partners, his partners in life that he lives with and eats with and he bandages their wounds, and they are his partners in this never-ending fight thats cuts so deep and leaves nasty wounds, and in their deep os his partners hands reaching out not to hurt but the tenderly heal the vulnerable spots. His relationship with Ink and blue just feels deeper then friend with everything they go through. Theyre his partners. His partners Dream and Blue, and really that just doesn't feel like a friendship the way others define what a friendship is.

So calling them friends just subconsciously hasn't felt right, they're his partners. Its not boyfriends because theyre not dating so thats obviously not right, so partners is the main word Ink uses to describe Dream and Blue. He’ll use friends if it’s convenient in the context, but everything they do is better explained by the word partner.

so. he's explaining this idea with a Normal Friend (This could be any au variant idk) and he's like, well, this isn't a friendship then, this is similar to romance. (Add some miscommunication in that conversation. Maybe the person Ink is talking to describes romance for themself and they're saying its cooking for them and thinking for them all the time and getting little gifts and all that stuff while thinking about their own lover and Ink is like this is Dream and blue for me! I must be inclined to be in a romantic relationship with those two!

And that means in typical Ink Fashion Ink decides to experiment with romance and try it on for size. Be a little silly with it, and asks Dream to date him. It's just Dream because from observing romantic relationships, like Aplhys x Undyne and Sans x Toriel, he's like, hm romantic relationships are typically between only two people so to try out dating to get an authentic more likely to be accurate experiance since I know jack shit about exploring this concept, I should try to date only one person

ink goes through this process of trying to pick dream or Blue to date but eventually ends up just spontaneously picking one and dating dream cause he’s Ink. Maybe Dreams a bit upset in the scene and Ink knows romance might help these things so he forgoes his usual way of comforting dream, and decides to tell Dream he wants to date him. Dream accepts for some reason?? I might make a seperate post in the future exploring Dream’s relationship to romance

Eventually Ink feels kind of bad, or wrong, or just really wants to tell the truth because he figures out more from observing other romantic couples and realizes that he just does not feel romance like that. He does not feel it at all. (Maybe an aromantic awakening in there but Im not sure) and Ink confesses he doesn't feel romance, internally a bit stressed and frazzled cause this is just one more thing thats weird about him and he knows in romantic relationships things are Different and things are Heavier and that means that Dream might take a lot of offense to this admission and maybe even his weirdness. Who knows, romance changes a lot of things and Ink doesn't get those changes or how ppl act (Prob has watched a couple of yandere aus to study romance, which no ink! Thats not a good example!) hed hate it if Dream left or didnt want to hang out with him for a bit and the stability that comes with the star sanses to change. Ink loves a bit of chaos and unforeseen consequances but not with them. Ink explains that he diesn't feel it like other people, cause dream and blue are not his friends, but it's not romance he's feeling. And they talk abou it and get together in a platonic way and idk lots of self-discovery my ideas have ran out.

I would LOVE interaction with ideas or comments or smth Im obsessed with the Star Sanses (+Core Frisk but they're not relavant in this post, unless…..Core Frisk is someone he asks for advice at some point and they regurgitate information and bond over not experience romance normally cause there is no way Core Frisk experiences it normally being an omnipresent being. Maybe they're part of his aromantic awakening whenever that is? They know pretty much everything and love being completely and thoroughly accurate whenever anyone asks them a question and Ink asks a lot of questions sooooo, lots of ideas for that interaction to be had there)

Tldr: Ink sans is aromantic, is a dumbass, gets together with the star sanses romantically, and then is like, ya'll I dont feel romantic attraction so they get together platonically

[beanghostprincess]

Sometimes I feel like Shuggy is a sort of Lusopp gone wrong, especially with the w7 fight hilighting Usopp's insecurities and how Buggy may have felt some insecurities as well towards Shanks..

I am not gonna write a long text about this because I am busy however, I have so many thoughts about this. I've been having this exact same thought for a long time, because I was like "wow Luffy doesn't usually explain what happened to people. In general. He doesn't stay in the past. But if Shanks asked about their journey and his rough times, maybe he'd end up telling him about Usopp and Water 7. And Shanks would relate to it to a personal level so damn hard- At least he'd be proud Luffy was able to deal with it". And after this thought, I just can't unsee it.

Buggy and Usopp are really similar. They both have those "fake it til you make it" type of "coward" personalities and they wish to be more than what they're seen as, because they feel like everyone shines brighter than them. I think the main difference here is that Usopp has a crew that supports him and his environment is wayyy healthier than Buggy's. He can grow as a person with them and learn to be braver and stronger and not compare himself to others. Be his own person and grow to the point of accepting himself. The whole thing about Usopp's journey is a personal thing, because his crew already knows what he's capable of, he just wants to prove it to himself. Buggy, on the other hand, doesn't have the luck to be surrounded by people that genuinely believe in him. Like, okay, he has followers and subordinates that always keep treating him like a king, but they don't make him feel like one because he just keeps on pretending instead of trying to grow as a pirate accept himself. Which is understandable because why the hell would he do that if there's no point to do it? He gave up on his dream and now he's just doing the "fake it til you make it" to survive. With chapter 1082 (Y'all really should tell me to shut up about that chapter. It's just... I just miss Buggy and Cross Guild I really need another chapter about them) I think we could have a lot of character development for Buggy because he now has decided to follow his dream after all these years. It's basically the same story as Usopp's, except that it has taken him years to do this because his insecurities are tied to a relationship that doesn't have any closure.

Shuggy really is a Lusopp gone wrong, and it makes me so sad but it's just another great way of showing parallelisms between Shanks and Luffy and how the new generation is doing things differently (and better).

Usopp left the crew using the death of Merry as an excuse to cover the real reason (feeling completely insecure as he's surrounded by people stronger than him and he doesn't feel like he belongs with them) and Buggy left Shanks using the excuse of having been tricked into eating a Devil Fruit and losing the map to cover the fact that he did it because... Not exactly because he felt insecure being in Shanks' shadow. See? This is the main difference between the two. Buggy didn't leave Shanks because of feeling insecure (although, yes, it's a really important point of the story and it's pretty much crucial to their relationship and his decision to leave Shanks), he left because he trusted him to follow Roger's steps but he didn't. He gave up on his dream to trust Shanks instead and that's what Shanks does? Throw their dream away?

Lusopp's thing is more about Usopp's personal growth, but the whole deal with Shuggy's relationship is a bit more messed up because it's full of miscommunication, mourning and insecurities and it's a thing they have to deal with together.

But yeah, what I'm trying to say is that their relationships are pretty similar and I really, really want Shuggy to have closure because otherwise I will forever be sad.