#It's a privilege once you leave a bad situation that you slowly have the room and time to forget. I'm like almost a normal person these day

[julie-su]

Megaman, as a series, does something absolutely bizarre to my brain. The first time I really got into it, wasn't so long ago - I believe it was 2017, 2018? It was the month that Tony died, only a month after Skunk died, maybe - I don't remember the timeframe. I was already numb, then number. I was already majorly depressed; I didn't know how to cry, I didn't know how to do anything.

I don't really remember why, I bought a NES. It's all I talked about for a long time, my NES. I was mean, and apathetic, and rude, and I wanted you to know about my NES. I went to the local arcade, I went to their coadjacent 'retro' games store, I bought NES games. I bought NES peripherals. I played Megaman II. I played it a little, then a lot. I felt nothing, still, nothing, as I managed to die in the game, over and over. Am I even paying attention? I don't know. I don't care. It's all just going through the motions; it's always just going through the motions. And then... Defeat my first robot master. Was I always this close to the screen, leaning in so intently like this? I'm sweating from the effort. I start to smile. Just a little, then a lot. I don't know how long I had been playing at that point, but I had been feeling like I was ramming my head against the wall endlessly. In the game? In real life? I haven't felt this much of anything in a long time. It's not failing; it's getting better, each try. You're not meant to win it all in one go; it's designed like this. You get better, you have a margin for error, you're expected to fumble around. It sounds so silly, but I just started to cry about everything. I guess it wasn't so much about it being MegaMan, so much as I just needed the time to sit and parse through my emotions; but it felt almost poetic, how it had happened. They say that playing a game which forces you to focus, can help you to compartmentalise traumatic events. It was the first time I had truly had time to cry about it. I have a hard time with emotions like that; I had cried for show, because it's what you're 'supposed' to do, but I had felt total apathy up until the moment I reduced poor ol' Metal Man into scrap.

The next few weeks, I felt all of those hard-to-feel emotions about love, loss, and every human emotion under the sun. Laugh about the good times, seethe about how quickly it all happened (we lost Skunk to an idiot drunk driver), and cry, cry because it's really sunk in that I will never see either again. Before that, when I was in total apathy, it was like I had pressed pause; in some infinite dimension where they still were alive, and yet dead, at the same time. Like when you're playing a videogame, and you know that your next action will cause the death of a character who you love; but if you stay here, if you don't progress, you're still alive, for as long as I need you to be. I wish it could be forever, but you have to be selfish sometimes, and keep on moving forwards.

The next few months of my life after that were then dedicated entirely to telling anybody who would listen, about everything MegaMan. That sort of happy-flappy-hands no composure half-yelling type of excitement. I travelled further afield to more retro videogame markets than ever. It's a little embarrassing, and I don't get exactly like that for anything else. I was trying to avoid getting back into it now, because I get so embarrassingly head-over-heels, but I decided to indulge myself. I feel my cheeks getting a bit pink, but oh, oh, have I ever been happy these past few months, years, as I follow my nose wherever it'd take me. There's some Sonic fan events coming up soon; I can't wait for those, either <3 everything is coming up beautifully in my little old life.

[thenovelartist]

IkePri Headcanons - The Twins with Twins

As absolutely adorable as this situation is, you cannot tell me having twins would not destroy these boys in the best way.

I'm sorry in advance. I'll be handing out free tissues. (Also, long post, and Licht's set is under the cut.)

Nokto

When he learns Emma is pregnant, he does have a mini panic attack and goes silent.

He's flat out overwhelmed.

Despite that, he is happy. He doesn't want Emma to think otherwise.

But once it sinks in, a new feeling hits him like a storm.

Is this truly happiness he deserves? He sometimes questions whether or not he's suitable to be king, and now he's going to be a father.

He tries not to let Emma see is inner turmoil. Too bad she knows him too well.

She has always been there to reassure him of her previous choice making him king, but now she swears she'll be there to assure him he's going to be a great father, too.

Licht is the first to learn the news. You wouldn't believe just how happy he is for his brother.

After that, it will slowly make the rounds, and everyone begins fussing over the next prince (no one expects a princess) to be born.

But Emma has a rough time of it with her morning sickness. And there are plenty of doctors going to and fro trying to make things to help her.

It's in that commotion that the rumor of twins sparks. A rumor that is confirmed later when Emma starts growing larger than is typical.

Nokto was desperately hoping it wasn't the case, but once it's confirmed, his heart sinks.

Twins, cursed to carry that awful title of a blessing and curse. Even now as a king, he's still looked down upon by certain nobles due to the fact he's a twin, and now his own children are going to have to carry this burden?

But that's the beauty of Emma: she was a commoner who'd never heard of such a ridiculous rumor before coming to the castle.

Furthermore, that was the beauty of Belle: her pure heart was there to assure Nokto his children would not have that burden thrust on them by their mother like he had.

He wants to believe her, truly he does, but past scars never heal.

And she knows this, so she asks him to do two things.

The first being to trust her. The second being to love his children unconditionally.

Those are two things he can do, even though he feels inadequate, even though he's scared he can't protect them, even though he's terrified of failing.

When he first feels those little kicks against his palm as it rests over his wife's stomach, a fire ignites inside of him insisting he better damn well try his best for them. They deserve it from him.

When his wife goes into labor, he's up to his ears in foreign trade deals.

And even though he tries to leave, he is strategically kept in one place by Sariel, who is playing out Emma's request to keep her husband busy as possible so he doesn't worry about her in labor.

Someone's going to have to double check his work, but he does get a lot done before he's released to go see his twins.

Daughters, to the surprise of everyone. There hasn't been a girl born in the royal family for three generations.

Upon bursting into the room, he freezes upon seeing the two bundles beside her on the bed. His twins.

He's crying but doesn't realize it until he's close enough for his wife to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

He may have hurt Licht in the past by being too useless to protect himself, but he's going to be the kind of man who gives his girls the world, the twin's curse be damned.

Licht is the first of the brothers to see them. Emma tells Nokto that his twin should get the special privilege of seeing his nieces first.

Even though she's asleep when Licht first enters the room, Nokto almost prefers it that way. Not that he doesn't love his wife, but he wants a moment privately with his brother.

He makes Licht sit down before handing over one of his daughters for him to hold. Which puts Licht in awe.

Holding his other daughter, Nokto sits down next to his brother on the sofa. They're quiet for a long moment, neither able to say a word.

"I'm going to protect them," Nokto finally mutters. It's all he can confess, despite so many thoughts scrolling through his mind.

Licht smiles softly at the twin in his arms before looking over at his brother. But unable to look his brother in the eye, his gaze falls to the twin Nokto is holding before he answers, "you will."

Growing Up

Best believe these girls are spoiled.

They have all their uncles wrapped around their finger in one way or another.

Even Sariel has the most special place in his heart for these girls, but that's because of the number they've done to their father and his twin. Sariel will forever feel in debt to these girls for that.

Licht would die for these girls. And he gets scolded every time by Emma.

And the one time the little twins heard their uncle Licht said that, they burst into tears, grabbing his legs and clinging to him. "You can't die!"

Licht hasn't felt that guilty in a while.

And even though Nokto knows what it does to Licht, he still has to chew his brother out, for his daughters' sake.

These girls force Licht to live now because he can't make them cry. It's a very tentative step in the right direction.

Then there was the damage these little twin girls did on their father...

"You're the best dad in the whole world." "He's king because he's better than all our uncles." "We love you."

Screw being king of the country, these girls make him feel like king of the world.

And there's times he gets overwhelmed by that. They think so highly of him that he doesn't want to let him down.

He's made himself physically sick trying to live up to their expectations, despite Emma's warnings to take it easy.

The few times he is forced to recover from overwork, his daughters are there with tea and teddy bears uncle Luke made them, sticking by his side to give him all the hugs and cuddles he could ask for as they "nursed" him back to health.

"Daddy will always be the best, no matter what."

And before Nokto has a chance to spiral down into despair, Emma is there to confirm, "That's right. Daddy works really hard to make you proud because he loves you soooo much. He's the best daddy ever."

The world seems to fade out from around Nokto, even though he knows his twin girls are smiling as they loudly agree.

All he can do is hug all his girls tight. "I love you."

His two little blessings squeeze him as tightly as they can from each side as Emma leans over to kiss the top of his head. "We love you, too."

Licht

When he learns Emma is pregnant, he’s speechless, to the point he shuts down.

He’s terrified, yes, but there’s also a part of him that is so happy he doesn’t know what to do with it.

And it’s made worse by the fact that, for once, he's happy without feeling guilty, which will soon result in a bigger guilt trip later down the line.

So Emma was glad that she told him this at night in the privacy of their bedroom, because Licht is full out sobbing soon enough.

There are no words that need to be said about why, and she knows he’s not upset by the fact that there’s a baby on the way. The way he’s clinging to her as tightly as he is tells her as much.

The only reason she feels guilty is because she knows what’s going through his mind and the extra burden this is going to throw onto him.

Give him a couple days for the information to settle and him to mentally adapt to this change, and once that happens, everyone in the castle is going to wonder why Licht looks so… happy.

It’s unsettling. Welcome, for sure, but unsettling.

So much so that Nokto hunts down Emma to interrogate her on just what happened to his twin.

He's the first that learns the news, as Licht had kept his mouth shut this long.

Nokto's torn. On one hand, he knows what has to be going through Licht's mind, but on the other, he just wants the world for his brother, so he hopes Licht truly sees this as the happiness it is.

Licht knows Nokto found out when Nokto surprises Licht with a hearty pat on his shoulder and supportive smile.

Licht returns the gesture, squeezing his brother's shoulder in silent thanks.

After that, the whole castle soon finds out the news, and everyone is quite thrilled to hear it.

(Yves did not have a happy cry in his room over it when he heard the news. He did NOT...)

But then comes the news... Emma's carrying twins.

Licht's world collapses.

It's not fair. Being a twin is a hard burden in Rhodolite, and now he cursed Emma to carry twins, who'd carry around the burden of a curse the rest of their life.

Emma literally started hiding any and all sharp things the moment she found out. She also was determined to be his support pillar from then on.

"They're going to be okay. I'm going to be okay. Nothing bad is going to happen, Licht. I swear."

However, all the comfort in the world doesn't stop him from worrying. There's plenty of sleepless nights and rough days.

But there are moments the chaos in his mind fades away, allowing him to experience the happiness before him. Like when he feels little kicks and hands press against his wife's stomach. It's those moments he finally smiles, and when he does, Emma feels able to relax for three seconds.

As she nears her due date, she once again approaches Nokto with a favor. (She considered Yves for three minutes before deciding Nokto would be the far better choice.)

"I need you to keep Licht away from the castle when I'm in labor."

Nokto smirks and scoffs. "And why would I bother risking my brother's wrath on such a momentous occasion?"

"Because you told me you won't forgive anyone who hurts your brother, and if he sits outside the room when I'm in labor, he's going to torment himself with every sound."

Nokto goes silent, his expression falling as he realizes what Emma is saying.

And just before she's about to offer anything in return, he cuts in. "Yeah. I'll do it. Don't worry about it."

Nokto does find a moment to inform the others in the domestic faction about his plan, and how no one inform Licht if Emma was in labor.

They all care for Licht enough to agree to this seemingly heartless plan. They prepare for as many scenarios as possible and simply hope for the best. (And that Licht never find out.)

They're all very lucky that Nokto just happened to take Licht away as a personal guard on an outing near the border as Emma's water breaks.

Upon receiving a letter with the news from Yves, Nokto purposefully prolongs the trip so as to keep his promise to Emma, much to the irritation of a very anxious Licht.

And when they arrive back home, the first thing Licht learns is that Emma is in labor.

The princes weren't happy with the lone servant that had ruined the plan to distract Licht.

As much as they wanted to distract Licht, no one was bold enough to stand in the way of a very determined sixth prince with blazing red eyes as he ran towards the room.

But ultimately, they had been lucky to stall Licht just long enough. The only cries Licht could hear on the other side of the door were those of a baby.

And when he was let in shortly after he arrived, his panicked eyes instantly locked on Emma.

Que the tears as he falls to his knees beside her, apologizing for the fact he wasn't here.

Emma does her best to settle him down and assure him he was more useful elsewhere than just waiting outside the door.

He's not convinced, though, so Emma resorts to redirecting his attention towards his twin boys.

As he looks over the two swaddled babies in the bassinet, he can't help but cry, just as Emma knew he would.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry." He was the one who cursed them to bear this burden that should be his and his alone. And yet his sons will carry this curse of being a twin from a twin for the rest of their lives.

On what should be one of the happiest days of their lives, Emma's heart breaks because she knows Licht only says that out of the deepest love fathomable in his shattered heart.

Growing Up

These two boys are loved dearly by their uncles.

Particularly Yves who has very little self-control when it comes to making sweets for them.

And they have Licht's sweet tooth, to be sure.

And Sariel loves these two to pieces, even though they break his heart. They hold all the sunshine Licht used to hold as a child, and he'd do anything to make sure they stay that way.

But there's two people who can't stand the immense cuteness of two princes packed with all the innocent love that Belle's heart could muster.

Nokto can't stand how much they love him. He feels guilty just looking at them.

"Uncle Nokto will protect us from the devil!"

Because he couldn't protect his own brother but these two think that he's the best shield from Sariel?

He hates it. He hates how they can look up at him and think he's the best uncle of the seven they have.

Yet, deep in his heart, he feels the beast within him roaring that he will protect these two with his life should it come down to it.

And Licht...

Oh, poor Licht.

His twins destroy him.

"Best dad in the whole world." "We love you." "Our dad is so brave." "He's invincible!" All paired with so many hugs.

And when they look up at him for guidance, trying to mirror the way he walks to the fact they also picked up the habit of sliding carrots off their plates, he realizes that he is the world to these two boys.

So he can't do anything to lead them off the right path. Not even in private. He loves them too much to do anything to destroy their smiles.

Which takes a mental toll on him.

"Mommy, why does dad cry at night?"

It's a hard question for Emma to answer, but it's one she'd been thinking about for ages since she just knew that, sooner or later, these boys would find out their dad's secret. And they were right at the age where she could tell the twins the truth... somewhat.

"It's very hard to explain. You see... your dad did something bad in the past. He knows what he did was bad and is sorry for it, but sometimes, it makes him very sad when he thinks about it."

The twins faces fell. Which made her worried.

And when they took off, she didn't know where they were going, but she hoped she didn't say the wrong thing.

Instead, they found their dad in his office, alone for once. And they ran up and hugged him.

"It's okay if you did something bad in your past. You didn't mean it." "And you're still the best dad ever."

Licht didn't know he could break down that hard in front of his sons.

They stay for a while, hugging their dad tight before deciding they were going to get Yves to make snacks for all of them.

And when they run out, Nokto happens to slip in.

"I heard everything."

There is a tense silence for a while, Licht swiping at his swollen red eyes while a misty-eyed Nokto pretended not to notice.

"I hate them," Licht whispers, unable to look his brother in the eye.

Nokto takes a shaky breath, looking anywhere except in Licht's direction as he leaned against the back of the couch, his arms crossed as a tear rolled down his own cheek. "At times like this..." he whispers back, voice hoarse. "I do, too."

[tameodesza]

Love’s Maze (BretShawn)

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AO3 link

Shawn grows closer to Bret, and he has a difficult conversation with Marty.

a/n: Promise this is the last of Marty!

Although Shawn appreciated Bret’s offer to use the Harts’ locker room, he feared Bret was only being nice, and Shawn didn’t want to become a burden to Bret or the other Harts.

But after talks of his and Marty’s breakup spread rapidly amongst the roster, Shawn’s time in the locker room became increasingly difficult now that he was on his own. So difficult that Shawn would often shower at the hotel or wait until everyone left the arena.

Ultimately, that was enough to convince him that maybe hanging with the Harts wouldn’t be so bad.

Surprisingly to Shawn, all of the Harts seemed to welcome him with open arms, especially Owen. The two got along very well, Bret often joking that Shawn and Owen shared the same brain cell.

Getting close to the Harts was definitely not on Shawn’s bucket list, but he was beyond grateful to have them in his corner, especially Bret.

Spending nearly every day with Bret allowed Shawn to become increasingly aware of his attraction to the older man. He caught himself on more than one occasion getting lost in Bret’s eyes, noticing how nice and curly his hair was, or purposely making a fool of himself just to see Bret’s smile. Not to mention, Bret had a really nice body, and sharing a locker room granted Shawn the privilege to see more than he was used to in the ring.

But regardless of how attractive Bret was, Shawn vowed to himself that he would not date another wrestler, or at least not a wrestler in the same company. His experience with Marty left a sour taste in his mouth, and he wanted to avoid ever putting himself in a situation like that ever again.

So he settled on just enjoying being good friends with Bret. 

  Upon arriving to the arena, Shawn headed to the Harts’ locker room just as he would any other day. But he stopped dead in his tracks when he rounded a corner, locking eyes with the person he’d been trying to steer clear of for the past couple months.

Marty was anxiously pacing the hallway, lost in thought when he glanced up, looking relieved once he spotted Shawn.

It had been a little over a month since the pair filmed the breakup of The Rockers, and Shawn had been mostly successful in avoiding Marty since then. He was able to convince Vince that there was no need for the two of them to interact now that they were building up the Heartbreak Kid, and thankfully Vince agreed.

However, Shawn’s luck soon ran out.

Marty walked briskly toward Shawn with urgency as he said, “Shawn. Hey-” But he was cut off when Shawn put up a hand between them.

“Stop. Just…don’t come closer to me.”

Marty looked dejected as he watched Shawn slowly drop his hand before attempting to walk away. “Can we talk?”

Shawn closed his eyes, sighing to himself before turning to face Marty again. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Please,” Marty stressed. “Just five minutes and I promise I’ll leave you alone.”

Shawn scoffed, “You’ve proven to me time and time again that your promises don’t mean shit.”

There was an awkward silence that lingered between them, Shawn slightly nervous that Marty would snap. Surprisingly, that didn’t happen.

Marty nodded to himself. “You’re right. I don’t blame you for not wanting anything to do with me. But this may be the last time I get to see you.”

That got Shawn’s attention. He furrowed his brows, asking, “Huh?”

Marty motioned to an empty locker room. “Can we talk in there?”

Shawn looked at the room, panic slowly rising at the idea of being alone with Marty. He said pointedly, “I don’t want to argue with you, Marty.”

“Me neither. It’s just a talk. Nothing more.”

Shawn knew he should’ve walked away, should’ve told Marty to go fuck himself. But against his better judgment, he said, “Make it quick,” and followed the man to the room, his own curiosity getting the better of him.

Once inside, Shawn stood next to the door just in case he needed to make a quick escape. He leaned against the wall, folding his arms as he said, “Go on.” He didn’t want to be around Marty any longer than he needed to be.

“Right,” Marty fidgeted. “I…uh…I got released today.”

Shawn’s brows raised as he tilted his head in surprise. That certainly wasn’t what he expected to hear. “What? Released?”

“Yeah…I’m going to WCW. I just…thought you should be the first to know.”

Shawn stood there stunned, honestly not knowing what to say, or what Marty expected of him. Did Marty want Shawn to congratulate him? To beg for him not to go? To go with him? Because none of those thoughts came to mind.

Marty said solemnly, “You know we’ve never wrestled a single promotion without each other, right?”

It was true. Ever since their training days, the two stuck by each other’s side. Even when it was obvious early on that Shawn was the better of the two, Shawn would refuse to wrestle at a promotion if Marty weren’t included.

With Marty going to WCW, this would be the first time that they would be truly separated, no longer working under the same roof, and Shawn wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

Marty continued, “It’s going to be so different going there without you, Shawn. Hell, it’s gonna be weird for me not having you around, period.”

A million thoughts smarmed through Shawn’s head before he said slowly, “Yeah. Same for me.”

Marty had always been there, and there was a very small insecure part of Shawn that desperately held onto his love for Marty, that yearned for the man not to leave, to continue being a silent presence that haunted him in his life because it’s what he was used to.

However, the larger part of him that craved separation and independence was relieved. He would no longer have to constantly look over his shoulder or walk on eggs shells because of Marty.

He was finally free.

Shawn took a deep breath, saying genuinely, “I’m sorry you got released, but I’m glad you have something lined up. I’m sure you’ll do great in WCW.”

Marty frowned as if he were expecting a different reaction. “Yeah. Thanks.”

There was another awkward silence that Shawn refused to subject himself to. He uncrossed his arms, turning toward the door saying, “Well, if that’s all-”

“No, wait,” Marty said swiftly. “There’s one more thing I wanted to talk about. About that night-”

Shawn grimaced, not even wanting to think about what happened months ago at the hotel. “Marty-”

“No, I need to say this. If I could take everything back, I would. You didn’t deserve the shit I put you through, Shawn. I’m sorry.”

Shawn would be lying if he said it didn’t feel nice hearing a sober Marty apologizing and taking accountability for his actions instead of blaming Shawn as he usually did. However, Shawn just wanted to leave, not knowing if he had any more strength to be in the same room as Marty.

Shawn gave a slight nod saying, “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

He hoped that would have been the end of the conversation. But before Shawn could register what was happening, Marty abruptly pulled him into a hug.

The blond stood there frozen in shock as Marty tightened his hold, relishing in having Shawn in his arms again before whispering, “I miss you.”

Shawn let out a shaky breath as he said, “Don’t.”

Marty pulled away slightly, his face just inches from Shawn’s as he said, “You can’t tell me that you don’t miss me, too. That you don’t miss us.”

Shawn didn’t say anything, avoiding eye contact and feeling like a trapped animal in Marty’s arms.

Unfortunately, Marty mistakenly took Shawn’s silence as admission. He leaned a little closer, intending to kiss Shawn, but the blond quickly shoved him back exclaiming, “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Shawn, I-I’m sorry! I thought-”

“You’re clearly not thinking shit!”

“Look, I know I’m out of line-”

“You think-”

“But this is probably the last time I’ll see you for who knows how long! Please, just one more time, me and you.”

And it was tempting, oh so tempting, to fall back into old habits. Because that’s what Marty was. A bad habit that Shawn struggled to let go of for so long. And as always, as soon as he started doing well for himself, Marty found a way to slither his way back into his life.

If this had been Shawn a few months ago, he may have fallen for it. He may have given Marty yet another chance as he’d done countless times before just for Marty to screw up again.

But Shawn knew he had to put a stop to it for good.

Shawn said firmly, as if he were talking to a misbehaving dog, “No, Marty! No.”

Marty seemed a bit taken aback, not used to Shawn being so stern. As a desperate last attempt, Marty begged, “Please, Shawn. This is killing me. I love you.”

Marty thought that was what Shawn needed to hear, but that was all it took to set him off.

“Love?! Are you fucking serious,” Shawn scoffed in disbelief. “The fact that you can even utter that word after the shit you’ve put me through is insane!”

This is what Shawn didn’t want to happen. He didn’t want to get worked up, to get angry and emotional over someone who was supposed to stay in the past. But he had so much pent-up feelings and unresolved issues with Marty that were clawing to come out.

Marty looked like a deer in headlights. “Please don’t be upset-”

“You’ve ruined me, Marty. Don’t you get that?!” Shawn’s voice cracked as tears pricked his eyes. He emphasized, “Ruined me!”

“I never wanted that-”

“Never in my life would I have thought you would have cheated or hit me. But you did that. You! You can’t just expect me to move on from that. So I don’t ever want to hear you say shit about loving me!”

Marty was left speechless as he watched Shawn wipe his eyes, attempting to calm himself. “Shit, I can’t stop fucking up,” Marty said disappointedly to himself. “I’m not trying to make things worse, Mikey.”

Shawn sniffed, “Too fucking late.”

Marty nodded, “Yeah, I know. I just… I just want you back, Shawn. And I know I don’t deserve it, but the time I’ve been away from you has been awful. I need you. So fucking bad. I just need to know if we can work this out. Do you think you can give us another chance?”

There goes that temptation again. It would be so easy to fall back into that safety net. Shawn knew it. That’s what made his next decision even more difficult.

Despite his inner turmoil, Shawn answered confidently, “I think it’s best if we both just focus on ourselves.”

Marty’s mouth hung open, not wanting to believe the words coming out of Shawn’s mouth. “You can’t mean that.”

Shawn swallowed hard before answering, “I do.”

“What…what am I supposed to do without you? What are we both supposed to do without each other?”

Shawn often asked himself the same question. Throughout their relationship, Marty and Shawn had grown equally unhealthily codependent of each other. And as toxic and unstable as the relationship was, Shawn knew what to expect. He’d grown accustomed to taking Marty’s abuse, both mentally and physically.

But enough was enough.

“We’ll figure it out, Marty. But not together. We’re just not…we’re not good for each other.”

What he didn’t expect was to see Marty’s eyes well up with tears of his own, the tightening of Shawn’s own heart hard to ignore. “But we can be.”

As much as Shawn wanted that to be true, history’s proven that it was not. Shawn lamented, “No. This is it.”

Marty sighed, dragging a tired hand across his face, realizing that his pleading was a lost cause. He wasn’t getting Shawn back this time, and it was no one’s fault but his own.

“I’m sorry,” he said, this time sounding genuinely remorseful.

“I know,” Shawn whispered before making his way towards the door. He gave Marty one last look as he said, “Goodbye, Marty.”

Before he could change his mind, Shawn left the room with his head held high, leaving Marty and their 7-year relationship behind.

  When Shawn entered the Harts’ locker room, Bret could immediately tell something was off. Despite the forced bright smile Shawn flashed when he greeted everyone, Bret could see the sadness in his eyes. It also looked like the blond had been crying which was hard for Bret to ignore.

Bret waited until his brother and in-laws were out of the locker room to ask, “Hey, you ok?”

Shawn was in the midst of stretching on the floor when Bret approached him, the older man forcing down inappropriate thoughts on how flexible Shawn was.

Shawn got up from the floor with a snicker saying, “Why are you always asking me that? I’m good.” But the look Bret gave Shawn told him that he didn’t believe him.

Shawn let out a sigh before sitting down in the nearest chair. Bret also pulled up a chair, sitting next to Shawn as he patiently waited for the blond to open up.

After a moment of hesitation, Shawn finally said, “He got released today.”

Bret didn’t have to ask to know who Shawn was talking about. Knowing how much turmoil Shawn’s been in since the breakup, Bret thought Marty’s release was perfect timing. But as he looked at Shawn, he noticed that the blond didn’t seem as elated as he imagined he’d be.

Bret asked, “How do you feel about it?”

Shawn shifted his eyes to the floor as he answered honestly, “I’m…conflicted. It’s like, I’m happy that I don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

“But,” Bret prompted.

“But a part of me is sad, I think. Sad that we couldn’t make it work. Sad that we failed. Sad that all of these years we spent together were washed down the drain. But…never mind, it’s stupid.”

Bret leaned forward to get in Shawn’s line of sight, the blond locking eyes with Bret’s as he urged “No, it’s not, Shawn. It’s not stupid. It makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah. I mean, you were with the guy since high school. Feelings don’t disappear overnight, no matter how much we’d like them to. What else?”

Shawn blinked, not expecting Bret to be this interested. He gave it some thought before responding, “I guess I’m feeling a little anxious.”

“Why?”

Shawn shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it’s because I’ve always relied on Marty, probably more than I should have. I guess I’m just starting to realize how much control I allowed him to have over my life.”

“Control how?”

“I mean he’s the reason why I got into wrestling. He chose our team’s name and outfits. He even bleached my fucking hair. So much of who I am is because of him, and I just feel like I don’t even know who I am without him.”

Bret listened intently, albeit concerned. He had no idea how much Shawn depended on Marty. With the man having so much of an influence on Shawn, it was no wonder why the blond was having an identity crisis.

But Bret wanted, no, needed Shawn to know that his identity and success was not because of Marty. It’s because of how amazing Shawn is. The fact that Marty even got Shawn to the point of feeling like he needed Marty to know who he was as a person really pissed Bret off.

“Hey,” Bret said softly, “You’re Shawn Michaels, one of the most talented wrestlers this generation has seen. You don’t need anyone else to tell you that.”

“No. I’m Michael Shawn Hickenbottom.” That was the first time Shawn had told anyone his real name since he started wrestling. It was certainly the first time Bret had heard it.

Shawn continued, “Shawn Michaels is cocky, arrogant, confident, talented, and has the whole world ahead of him. But Michael…Mikey-”

Bret heard Shawn’s breath hitch, the blond on the verge of breaking down. He finished Shawn’s sentence, saying soothingly, “Is a talented, intelligent man that wears his heart on his sleeve, who’s doing the best he can with the cards life has dealt him.”

Shawn said defiantly, “You’re just being nice.”

“No, I’m being honest. Must I keep reminding you to be kinder to yourself?”

Shawn frowned. “I’m trying, Bret. It doesn’t come easy for me.”

“Then I’ll just be here to keep reminding you.”

Shawn smiled slightly before leaning back in his chair, groaning, “I should hate him. Curse his name. Wish the worst upon him for what he’s done to me. But-”

“But you’re not that kind of person. You’re kind, thoughtful, and loving. It’s not in you to be vindictive. Though if you were, your feelings would be completely valid. But you’re a genuinely good person, Shawn. I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

That managed to pull a larger smile from Shawn. “I know.”

“Good. Your kindness is one of the reasons why I like you.” Bret quickly caught himself, stammering, “Uh, I mean as a friend,” he ended with an awkward smile. 

Shawn chuckled, “Of course. Thanks for being a good friend, Bret. I mean it. I feel like all I ever do is bring my problems to you, but you’re always willing to listen.”

“That’s what friends are for.” Bret certainly wouldn’t mind being something more than friends, but he wasn’t going to let Shawn know that. At least not yet.

There was a comfortable silence between the two, the moment being interrupted when Bret said, “So, Hickenbottom, huh?”

“Don’t you even start,” Shawn warned playfully, both men laughing jovially before getting ready for the show.

[death-and-other-myths]

The Emperor and the Nightingale

ACT 3

(In the stillness, in the darkness, a single flame shines. It shimmers, then multiplies. The source of the light is a candle on a stick. Holding the stick is a man shuffling from one streetlight to the next among the moonstruck castle garden. He is wearing sunglasses at night.)

The Lamplighter:

Oh, hello there. I’m the royal lamplighter.

(he shuffles to the next glass lamp, filling it with fire)

That got a bit dark, didn’t it?

Allow me, if you will, to shed some light on the situation. Is that alright with you, Pete?

Narrator:

(Taken off guard in his chair, nearly spilling his tea)

They’re all yours, Ed.

The Lamplighter:

You see, the Emperor wasn’t always like this.

There was a time when life was simpler. When things moved quickly, and slowly, because the passing of time didn’t matter. The days were endless. The landscape unknown. Every hour a new adventure.

Once, a long time ago, the Emperor was a child.

The Lamplighter:

On the edge of the wood where humans dare not tread, there was a quaint countryside filled with rolling satin grass, clear crystal brooks, and sunlight sifting trees.

The Lamplighter:

The royals vacationed there in the summer, seeking a rural experience and an opportunity for humility, where they could connect and empathize with their people.

(Twenty-six carriages arrive at a 10,000 square foot estate. While hundreds of butlers and maids scurry about, unloading bags and shuttling pounds of food, furniture, and luxuries. A few peasants look on from their nearby humble lodges. It is always a spectacle when the Emperor and Empress vacation in the little village. The quiet farming town lights up with activity.)

(A blonde-haired little boy in an immaculate baby blue jumper steps down from a golden carriage. While the adults oversee the unpacking, he stands about until an acorn is thrown at his head.)

The Prince:

Hey!

(He whirls around to see a small dirty child peering back at him from the brush in the forest’s edge)

The Small Dirty Child:

Donovan!

The Prince:

Richard!

Richard:

(Smiles as the prince approaches the brush)

You’re taller.

The Prince:

Yeah, I’m eight years old.

(He holds up eight fingers excitedly.)

So I’ll probably be Emperor any day now.

Richard:

(Stands up from his hidden position, towering over the other boy by at least three inches. He shakes his sandy hair of twigs and leaves.)

The Prince:

(Rises up on his toes)

Richard:

Come on. I have something cool to show you.

The Prince:

Mom told me if she catches me going into the woods again, she is going to take away breakfast ice cream privileges for a week.

Richard:

(Rolls his eyes)

You eat ice cream for breakfast all the time. How often do you get to poke a dead unicorn with a stick?

(wiggles a stick at him temptingly)

The Prince:

(Grabs the stick and excitedly shoves Richard into the brush)

Lead the way!

(The scene fades to black.)

(Spare for a single, flickering flame.)

The Lamplighter:

Get it yet? Well, give it some time.

Soon everything will come to light.

(He snuffs out the flame)

(From the darkness emerges a large golden birdcage. Inside the cage is the nightingale, sulking with a gold band soldered onto her arm. She is having a very bad day.)

The Emperor:

(Approaches the cage as the rest of the throne room is illuminated)

Are you hungry?

The Nightingale:

(Slams her body against the gold cage, her fingertips swiping at his face, which is just out of her reach)

The Emperor:

(Oblivious)

I wasn’t sure what nightingales eat. At first, I thought of birdseed, but that seems too boorish for a god. So I just brought a bunch of candy.

The Nightingale:

Candy?

The Emperor:

(Holds one up)

Everybody loves candy.

The Nightingale:

(holds out her hand)

The Emperor:

(Grins and gives her some candy pieces)

The Nightingale:

(Examines the treat, then slaps him so hard he spits out the one he was chewing)

Release me immediately!

(A group of guards suddenly move to flank the cage, their spears forcing the nightingale back.)

Guard #1:

(In a robotic voice)

Immediate threat detected!

Guard #2:

(In a robotic voice)

Prepare to be executed!

Guard #3:

(In a robotic voice)

Error! Threatening exclamation not found!

The Nightingale:

(Eyes the spear, then throws a taffy at the Emperor’s face)

Guard #1:

(In a robotic voice)

Engage unnecessary force!

The Empress:

(Entering the room with Ophelia and Alphonse)

Enough! What is all this racket so early in the morning?

Ophelia:

It’s eleven o’clock, your highness.

The Empress:

 (Notices the scene)

What’s going on dear, not enjoying your new plaything?

The Emperor:

(pulls off the taffy stuck to his forehead)

On the contrary. She’s very entertaining.

The Empress:

Well, she wasn’t brought here for her uncanny talent for sulking. Listen here, bird. You’ll get to singing if you know what’s good for you.

(The guards ready their spears.)

(The Nightingale considers the scene.)

She takes a breath.

(All parties gasp in anticipation.)

The Nightingale:

(Blows a raspberry)

The Empress:

You disrespectful little beast!

Alphonse:

(Holds her back)

Do not fret, your Highness. The nightingale is still adjusting to life in captivity. She’ll sing a different tune in time. Come, might we have a word?

(He leads the Empress out of the room)

(Once safely in the corridors, Alphonse, Ophelia, and the Empress resume their conversation.)

The Empress:

Great plan, Al. That god bird of yours is useless. At this rate, he’ll be back to his mopey self in no time.

Alphonse:

Perhaps, your majesty. Perhaps. But look.

(He pushes the door to the throne room open a crack to reveal the Emperor smiling contentedly at the Nightingale while she berates him from her cage)

The Nightingale:

Release me this instant, filthy mortal! Every second I’m kept in this place is another minute I’ll add to your inevitable painful death!

The Emperor:

(Sighs happily)

Alphonse:

(Closes the door)

The Empress:

He’s even more hopeless than I thought.

Ophelia:

Normally, the Emperor’s short attention span would have him spiraling back into depression by now. This is the longest he’s ever been entertained.

Alphonse:

The nightingale has provided him the ultimate happiness and peace, the likes of which he’s never experienced.

Ophelia:

He is completely captivated.

Alphonse:

Completely dependent.

The Empress:

Okay, I get it!

Ophelia:

Your highness, he is completely distracted.

The Empress:

Oh?

Alphonse:

You know, you really should be the ruler of our land.

Ophelia:

No one is as smart as you.

Alphonse:

Or beautiful.

Ophelia:

Or more capable of ushering in our kingdom to a new era. Think of it. Global conquest. Colonization of new lands. The sort of ambition a country needs and expects of their leader.

The Empress:

(Tosses her long hair over her shoulders)

You think?

Alphonse:

We know.

Ophelia:

Let him play with his bird.

Alphonse:

Leave the kingdom to you.

The Empress:

I like the sound of this. Yes, I quite like the sound of this a lot. What did you have in mind?

Alphonse:

(As their voices disappear down the hallway)

Allow me to show you what I’ve been working on in my secret laboratory.

(Meanwhile, back in the throne room…)

The Nightingale:

WELL?!

The Emperor:

(Still staring dreamily)

Well what?

The Nightingale:

Are you going to release me?

The Emperor:

Are you going to sing?

The Nightingale:

NO!

The Emperor:

Then no.

The Nightingale:

(Huffs and collapses to the cage floor, hugging her knees)

The Emperor:

Please don’t be like that. I want you to have a happy life here. You’ll never want for anything. My architects are hard at work building a bigger cage— fit for the dazzling queen of the night.

The Nightingale:

(Spitefully)

A cage is still a cage.

The Emperor:

Would you feel better after some fresh air?

(The Emperor gets up and opens the door to the cage, something that takes her a moment to process. The Nightingale darts past him, sprinting toward the exit when a guard deftly clamps a golden chain around her neck. A second group of guards blocks the door, golden arrows trained and at the ready.)

The Emperor:

(Taking the chain from the guard)

Fancy a tour of the palace?

The Nightingale:

(Glaring)

Fine.

(The Emperor leads her around his massive palace. At all times they are followed by six guards with golden arrows trained on the Nightingale)

Narrator:

The Emperor spent all afternoon showing the Nightingale his domain in hopes of swaying her into staying.

The Emperor:

This is the fourth largest royal swimming pool. On Tuesdays we fill it with funfetti pudding.

The Nightingale:

I hate it.

The Emperor:

(shouting over the roar of a car engine as they ride.)

THIS IS THE ROYAL RACEWAY. WE HAVE THE FASTEST CARS IN THE KINGDOM!

The Nightingale:

(glares at the guards crammed in the back of the car who are still somehow aiming arrows at her)

I hate it.

The Emperor:

This is the royal trampoline room.

(panting)

It’s quite the work out.

The Nightingale:

(bouncing with her arms crossed)

I hate it.

(The guards clumsily bounce, trying to keep their aim steady)

The Narrator:

He showed her every corner of his kingdom, but the Nightingale showed only distain for his impressive possessions. That is, until they had lunch.

(The Emperor and the Nightingale are sitting at a charming café with enormous, elaborate parfaits sitting in front of them.)

The Emperor:

How are you liking your dessert? Let me guess—

The Nightingale & The Emperor in tandem:

I hate it.

The Nightingale:

Tsh.

(Crosses her arms and tosses her head away)

The Emperor:

Well I love ice cream. It’s my favorite breakfast food.

The Nightingale:

You make no sense.

(Across the restaurant, a small band is playing for atmosphere. There is a stout man with an accordion and a thin man with a bass drum and symbol. While the Emperor eats, he notices the Nightingale eyeing them with keen interest. Her leg starts to bounce. She twirls her foot in rhythm with the music. Suddenly, the Emperor is struck with inspiration.)

The Emperor:

(leaps to his feet)

I HAVE AN IDEA!

Guard #1:

(Startles, accidentally firing a golden arrow that skewers a scoop of the Nightingale’s ice cream into the wall)

The Nightingale:

(Does not flinch, glaring at the Emperor with flecks of strawberry ice cream on her face)

The Emperor:

(takes her hands, pulling her up)

Come on! This way!

Narrator:

The Emperor took the Nightingale to the only room in the palace they had yet to explore. It was unlike the other places they had visited. A large space, infinitely vast with hundreds of red velvet seats, wooden walls, and a golden stage.

The Emperor:

This is the concert hall. It’s where the symphony plays.

The Nightingale:

What’s a symphony?

The Emperor:

They’re an orchestra. It has pianos and cellos and tubas and… you know… that weird one that looks like a clarinet got twisted up like a paper clip.

Dusty Old Man in a Tuxedo:

(Emerges from behind the curtain)

A contrabassoon, your majesty.

The Emperor:

Precisely! The elegant contra-baboon!

Wonderful to see you again Maestro. Where have you been?

Maestro:

Right here, my liege. You instructed us to remain on standby should you experience another urge to hear The Ride of the Valkyries in the middle of the night.

The Emperor:

Oh, that’s right. Well, good man!

(The Emperor claps the Maestro on the shoulder, resulting in a large plume of dust. Everyone pauses awkwardly.)

The Nightingale:

This room seems pointless.

I ha—

The Emperor:

Wait, wait.

(grabs a violin off a chair)

You don’t have these in the forest. Humans— we can’t sing like you do. So we use instruments to make music. Listen.

(He begins to play the violin, makes it a few notes in before it squeaks loudly)

Forgive me, it’s been a while.

The Nightingale:

Keep going.

(The Emperor continues to play the violin. It has been a while, and he certainly is rusty, but after several bars, the notes come smoothly. As he plays, more dusty old people emerge from backstage and shuffle sleepily into their chairs. They pick up their instruments and join him, eventually building into a beautiful dynamic symphony complete with pianos, cellos, and contrabassoons. The Maestro takes his place on the podium, conducting the orchestra.)

(When they are finished, the four robotic guards clap metallically.)

(The Emperor looks at the Nightingale, who is not moving. After several tense moments, she rises to her feet and claps enthusiastically. The Emperor and the Maestro smile. The orchestra takes a bow.)

The Nightingale:

I like it.

(she continues to clap)

I like it.

(The scene goes dark.)

NEXT ACT

Table of Contents

[squishy0823]

•Made in Glory | Viktor x Fem!Reader

Part 14

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

Summary: You finally speak with the council, but you slowly start to lose yourself to madness.

Warnings: None

Pairing: Viktor x fem!reader

Word Count: 1602

A/N: Thank you all for being so kind. I feel bad that these are coming out slower than I would like but my semester just started and I'm drowning in work.

-----

The city glistened with the pinks and oranges from the sunset across the horizon. You let the sun soak up your skin as you held yourself. Looking down to the people of Piltover was something you would never get used to. Even when you were a student, you’d come to the balcony and look out over the beautiful homes of gold and silver. There were no signs of corruption from Zaun. No shows of the undercity. Just the rich glow of the privileged.

Heavy footsteps sounded from behind as you took a moment to soak in the sun, one last time. “They’re ready for you.” Jayce sounded from behind. You took in a deep breath and turned to him. Wearing his white coat, his family arms on his shoulders, he stood tall. Clean and proper for the council.

You looked completely opposite to him. You wore older clothes, black, dressed for the night. “Okay.” You nodded as he led you through the halls.

The grand doors opened as the darkness of the room seeped through the hall. The grand windows were covered, the room quiet as you stepped closer, Jayce leaving your side once you reached the round table. The soft sounds of the people sitting at the table made you feel small, their judging eyes on you.

“Miss Y/ln,” Mel spoke, her delicate nature never changed. “We have discussed your situation here in Piltover,” she glanced at the rest of the members at the table, “and we have concluded that you are indeed welcome here in Piltover.”

“Thank you.” You nodded, but there was something else they wanted to meet you here for. Jayce already assured you that you would be allowed back in Piltover without being hunted down.

“But we have a proposition if you are to stay in the city,” Mel said holding her hands together, her gold dress pieces shining into your eyes.

“With the recent attack from Zaun protesters and your sacrifice with helping to defend the Hextech labs after the attack, we want you to join the council,” Jayce spoke as Mel looked to him to continue.

Your shoulders slumped, confused at why they wanted you to be a councillor. “Me? I have nothing beneficial to give the council.” You tell them, your eyes narrowed.

“But you do.” Jayce nodded.

“You have knowledge and power which can help protect Piltover and its people from the rising forces of Zaun,” Mel told you. “With this new leader, this ‘metal man’, having you by our side to aid in protecting our people, will be very helpful.”

You were stunned, shocked by what they were asking of you. Looking around the room, you say that every council member was serious, no longer drawn away and looking to you in disgust. They saw you in a new light.

“I know things have been hard since…” Mel gave a sad glance to Jayce who looked down, “since Viktor died.” You looked up to her, your lips parted at the mention of his name. “But, we believe this is the right thing to do. It’s the right thing to do, especially since that machine stole the Hexcore.”

You adverted your gaze, feeling the anger build inside your chest. The mention of Viktor was like salt in the wound, especially since the words were spoken by the same people who took away the years you should have spent with him. But you also felt unfinished. There was unfinished business between you and the metal man, his words dripping into your ears.

“Viktor was weak. He was a pathetic dying man, so I put him out of his misery.”

Your eyes were focused back on the council before you. “I’ll do it.” You said sternly, your body being filled with determination.

—

The sun was bright on the grass. The smooth breeze brings a chill in the warm air. Knuckles cracked with nervousness as you took a deep breath, feeling the energy flow through your arms and down to your hands. Goosebumps ran across your skin, readying yourself for practice. Sprinting forward, you ran across the empty field and jumped forward, the magic flowing through you as it boosted you high, flying over the stack of boxes. With a thud, your feet continued on as you reached the target, pulling the power from your hand and shooting it, causing the foam to explode into a million pieces. Turning away you turned to the harder targets, the ones made of scrap metal from the labs around Piltover. You pumped your arms down, the green blades forming around your wrist and extending past your hands. With a tight grip within your own hand, you jumped forward and sliced at the metal, searing the shiny material. You felt your anger build as you continued to attack the targets, slicing and stabbing the metal. You screamed out as you became warm with such hostile force, causing you to collapse to the ground, laying with the broken metal around you.

Your eyes closed, your breathing heavy. Upon opening them, you saw the clouds above dancing with the blue heavens. You wondered what it would be like to be on a cloud, to be free of everything and be as light as a cloud. The magic dimmed from your hands as you sat up. The sound of footsteps from behind brought you back to your surroundings.

“If you keep destroying metal at this rate,” Jayce smirked as he crossed his arms, looking down at you, “there won’t be any metal left in Runeterra.” He joked. You didn’t laugh or even grin at his lighthearted humour.

It had been a few weeks since you joined the council. Days were filled with meetings and planning if another attack were to happen, which every day you and the council prepared for it. You spent days doing research on runes, spells and new strategies for your magic. This wasn’t the type of research you had done in the past, now it was aggressive.

You stood from the grass and wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. Jayce watched, his smirk fading, hands falling to his sides. “You’ve been out here practicing day and night, maybe you should take a break.”

You’d been out in the field by the Academy for weeks now. Your mind is always occupied with that metal man. His glowing eyes shaking you to your core. “Did I ever tell you I saw him in a vision?” You turned over your shoulder, looking at Jayce.

“Recently?” Jayce questioned, raising an eyebrow in concern.

You shook your head and sighed. “The night Sky died, I accidentally touched the Hexcore. I saw him, he was there in my head, like a taunt for the future.” Taking a breath, you turned to Jayce. “I could have stopped this.”

“Don’t do this to yourself,” Jayce warned. “Don’t blame yourself for something we didn’t know would happen.”

“But I did know.” You snapped. “I knew because I saw him.” Turning away, you squeezed your eyes shut, the glow of yellow making you sick. “I was weak and let him go. I was afraid of my own powers.” You admitted. “If I see him, I swear to all of Runeterra, I’ll kill him for what he did.”

“For Viktor or for the good of Piltover?” Jayce said after a moment of silence.

You let his words seep into your head. “Whatever will keep the council happy.” You mumbled before turning off and walking back towards the Academy.

You found yourself back in your room. It wasn’t the same one you had before you left, but a new one, left bare of anything to show that it was your room. The plant that you created sat on the windowsill, now dying and no longer thriving from when Viktor took care of it. You hated to look at the plant, a reminder of how Viktor never gave up on you. Now, it felt like you gave up on Viktor. You tried to find him, searched all over Zaun, but had no luck. It completely destroyed you when that man told you he had killed Viktor. The anger consumed you, fueling some evil darkness within your magic.

Splashing water on your face, you tried to cool the bubbling heat of revenge fueling your magic. Sighing, your hands holding each side of the bowl on water, you looked up to your reflection. You were tired, bags under your eyes, pale from the lack of sleep.

But then your reflection changed. Eyes became dark with evil intentions, a wicked grin followed. Your reflection came to life, laughing, mocking you for a moment. In your reflection, the background went dark, then two golden eyes appeared behind your laughing figure.

“Weak.” The voice inside your head whispered. It was your reflection, taking back to you. “Follow me. I have something to show you.” You blinked, trying to blur away the reflection that spoke to you. “Become one with it, then you will no longer be weak.”

It then started to laugh. The golden eyes watching from behind as your reflection laughed, eyes sharp, turning purple. You squeezed your eyes shut, covering your ears as the laughter grew louder. You screamed out, the glass shattering into a million pieces. You hit the wall behind you, sliding down it as you cried. You felt insane like your magic was eating away at your brain. The sweet love of revenge for Viktor’s death was starting to consume you, becoming dark within your magic.

You were changing, and not in a good way.

[normally-alexis]

||Choked up

Pairings - Wilbur x Reader

Warnings - Heavily implied NSFW, Gore-related topics, knife kinks, spitting kink, Pain kink.

Summary - Nights before L'manburg was destroyed and Wilbur went insane you meet up with him and stay over.

Word Count: 1927

L'manburg was pretty much peaceful even though Dream and everybody else didn't want it on the server. It wasn't really bothering anybody so far even though some people, it's mainly just a place to get out of the tough rules of the smp.

You hadn't got into much trouble since you were partially on dream smp's side even though you switch sides pretty often. Whichever side would win you would switch to that side because you didn't want to pick sides you'd be a villain in either's eyes.

Hanging out with Tommy was fun even though he was three years younger than you. It wasn't weird since you both had a strong relationship with Wilbur and Philza. Philza was a father figure to all of you even though you weren't in the slightest related.

Growing up with Wilbur and Techno as best friends was pretty amazing, they taught you a few things throughout your teenage years. Philza before adopting Tommy was nicer to the three of you manly you and Techno.

Being the only female was different, you didn't have special perks as a kid, you were treated like a boy just with fewer responsibilities. Thinking back from when you were a kid towards now it was very rare for people to have kids on the smp. People just adopted children when you think about it.

Techno wasn't really in the Dream smp anymore he was with Philza somewhere out there. Tommy and Tubbo were kids and nobody really wanted them to do anything, they were still sorta young so they just joined L'manburg.

Nothing to stress about at the moment, still being one of the youngest adults of the smp gave you very few privileges. You had to take advantage of them while they lasted at the moment. Since it wasn't safe to live in L'manburg or on the Dream smp you had a bunker underground.

Why wasn't it safe? Anybody who picks sides cannot change that side, if you were on L'manburg's side you would be a big target considering you did have a private association with Dream.

You were underground sorting out some armor and some blueprints, you always have to move a lot if anybody ever saw you so why not be prepared? You kept sketching and erasing multiple times until you age up and burnt it.

The smoke was pretty bad to inhale so you move to an area where there wasn't much smoke at. It's pretty much clouding up the bunker and you start coughing, it's not that bad so you grab a potion and throw it on the burning blueprints.

It's not clouded up anymore even though you could have let it burn out. You drop your armor and weapons on the ground because you wouldn't be needing it at the moment. making your way over to your seat you sit down and look at all the notes in your notebook.

Flipping through the pages seeing if you found any notes you probably had written but most likely forgot were noted down. You stop at a page because it wasn't remembered from last time, it's a note from an anonymous person saying to come to the back of L'manburg.

You look back to see if anybody's there even though there's clearly nobody there. It must have been written early when you had left out. You push your chair out and then stand up, You take a moment and hesitate to think if you should do it or not.

It's a win and lose situation but what's life without a few risks? You leave from the seating of the area and walk over towards the ladder. Before climbing up the ladder you turn the lights off not wanting to draw any unwanted attention.

You grab onto the ladder and push yourself up placing your legs on the ladder, you climb up the ladder. Once you reach the top you push the top open and the trap door was forced open, you place one hand on the ground and place another hand on the ground.

You push yourself up and get on the top of the surface part of the ground. You take a small breathe and close the top. You push yourself up from off of the ground, you knew where L'manburg was since it was a pretty often visit.

You move throughout all the leaves and in vines, it's pretty normal to walk through it all. A few thoughts crossed your mind thinking about it, Dream wouldn't try contacting you that way he'd just catch you in the middle of the Dream smp and pull you to the side.

Thinking about meeting in L'manburg it would only be Tommy, Tubbo, Wilbur, Eret, Fundy, or Niki. It's not really Important who invited you but you really did want to know. You walk over to the area of the Dream smp and pass Tommy's house. It's pretty abandoned but you didn't bother starring at it too long.

You walk past it and walk towards the bridge that usually leads to L'manburg, you stop for a moment and hear a singing noise. It's not anywhere in sight per say but it's loud enough to hear. It's within the walls beside you and you put your ear on the wall.

It's more of a humming sound, you remove your ear from the wall and roam your hands along it. You hit a button along the wall not surprised but the wall opens up and the humming is more clear.

You enter inside of the cobblestone room not really expecting anything. The floor made a little sound when you entered inside of the room. You look on the ground and there's a few blood clots on the floor and some guts along with it.

You cover your mouth backing yourself backing into the corner. You sorta had a dislike of blood, not Hemophobia but it wasn't your favorite to be in a room filled with something dead. You look up and see Wilbur finishing cutting something up.

He already heard you since you had entered the room. He turns around and removes his gloves which were stained with blood. It's not a human thankfully but it's a dead animal, still very uncomfortable in this situation.

Wilbur looks up at you not very surprised  up at the moment, " What's wrong?" The whole display itself was wrong. You uncover your mouth smelling all the disgusting rotting corpses, "You're killing animals and letting them rot," How is he not disgusted? You roam around the room seeing more dead animals.

Wilbur tries explaining himself while coming towards you, but you get very distracted by all the blood splatter on the ground and much more graphic stuff. You weren't looking at him meaning that he knew your attention wasn't on his apology.

He grabs your hair and tugs on it making you shift your attention at him. Pulling and tugging on your hair really hurt because it's like being forced by Wilbur. As tough as you seemed whenever you had armor on being without armor is a completely different story.

"What's wrong tell me, you had a lot of nerve coming from somebody who would fuck literally anybody attractive enough," It's very weak of you to get degraded by somebody who doesn't even know how to defend himself.

"Or anybody who even found you attractive," You knew your worth but whenever somebody tells you something about criticizing yourself you'd just believe it and fix yourself. Was he right? You can't answer that yourself.

You had gone pretty silent and it causes Wilbur to get more aggressive with you. He knees your in your stomach not damaging your internal organs but it just made you feel weak and you tremble on your knees.

You grip onto your stomach squeezing it together, He's treating you like complete shit. He stops kneeing you and he pinches your cheek practically teasing you. You weren't even supposed to be meeting Wilbur at the moment.

Responding would get you in trouble and not responding would get you in more trouble. He's very agitated at the moment and he grabs the pocket knife from his pocket putting it towards your thigh.

"Can I Carve our Initials on your thigh," He asks you, You weren't too fond of punishment but you did like the attention being craved. You nod your head slightly and he removes his hand from your hair.

He grabs onto your thigh and you fall down stinging your back. He slowly starts carving your initials on your thigh, you don't make the loud noises you want to because he'll just end up cursing you out.

You wanted to curse so badly even though you liked it when he inflicted the pain, But why was it only acceptable when he did it. He was only done carving the 'W' halfway, you flinch and he messes up.

It a swerved 'W' and it looks very crossed out, He's upset with you and gets up from squatting. You try communicating with him, "Wilbur?" He's not necessarily listening to blocking out the thoughts.

He puts his foot in between your legs pushing it further near your shorts, His shoes against your clit. You can't tell what his original thoughts are, before you can even react he kicks you in your side. You fall on your face gripping onto your lower half, it's like a period without the loose blood clots.

He squats down and grabs onto your hair pulling you up making you look up at him, "Such a slut aren't you darling?" He spits on your face and it drips off of your face on the ground, is this really who you were such a despite slut that you would let a man do this to you?

Most definitely, you try smiling at him but it's a half-smile since you were in pain. "You holding up good slut?" He asks while looking you in your eyes, you nod as a response and try getting off of your sides.

You weren't damaged that badly you could always heal from it... He lets go of your hair once you were stable enough to stay on your knees. He takes his belt off and takes his pants down, he places the belt around your neck and ties it.

He takes his boxers off and grabs his dick which was already erected due to sadism. "C'mon slut, suck," He tugs on the end of the belt and you put your mouth on his dick, following rules in such a bad position in your life. Never would you have thought you would be sucking off Wilbur..

You take it slow at first not wanting to rush it since you weren't experienced as much, you mainly focus on the tip of his cock and rub your tongue over and over on his slit. Whenever he feels like he would release something he tugged on the belt making you gag on him.

It was hard to take him and focus on not being choked up by his belt, He's not the strongest of keeping his moans in. He climaxes inside of your mouth and some gets on your cheek, He wipes the semen off of your face.

"Is this okay darling?" he kisses your cheek and helps you clean yourself up, at least he did aftercare..

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Absentee

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Y/N fell in love with Jason Todd, she didn’t realize the normalcy she lost would become such a problem in their relationship. And she didn’t know how much pain it would cause to hide her boyfriend’s secrets. 

Word Count: 4,600 – One Shot

A/N: This is probably a really personal story. And you all might hate it or not relate to it. But oh well...

Y/N had her music playing in her headphones just quietly enough so she could hear them announce when her plane was boarding.

Between corporate holidays and what was left of her vacation days for the year, she was able to go home for a week and a half.

Only, she was hoping that this year she wouldn’t be going home alone.

But when Jason got sucked into a case two weeks before their flight back to her hometown, she knew there was no way he’d be accompanying her.  

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just–“ Jason had tried to tell her when she realized they weren’t going to be spending the holidays together.

“You don’t have to apologize. There are more important things right now than meeting my crazy family,” Y/N laughed lightly. “But they’ll be bummed.”

Jason still looked so down guiltily. He knew that Y/N had been downplaying how excited she was for her family to meet him.

Yeah, Y/N was upset, but her family was even more upset. Being in a different part of the country and them never putting in the effort to visit her, they had yet to meet Jason. Even when the two of them had been dating for 10 months.

Y/N had met all of Jason’s brothers, along with Bruce and Alfred. It had all been against his will, his family strategically running into them or invading his apartment when they knew Y/N would be there. Jason acted annoyed by it, but Y/N knew he was happy for her to meet them and without him having to act like he cared.

But Jason had only ever waved on FaceTime to her family or sometimes answered calls from them when Y/N left her phone next to him and went to another room.

It wasn’t like Y/N needed her family’s approval. She knew what she wanted and what was best for her. Their opinions didn’t hold as much weight with her as they thought.

But Y/N also had never introduced her family to a boyfriend before. Things either fizzled out before then or the relationship was so casual that the thought of even mentioning a boy-toy’s name in passing to her family made her want to jump out a window.

———

“So Jason couldn’t get out of work last minute?” Y/N’s older sister, Kate, asked as they drove to her house after picking her up from arrivals.

And so it began.

“No,” Y/N answered. “His boss is sort of an asshole. He’s a workaholic and can’t fathom why anyone else would ever be anything different.”

The truth was that Jason didn’t really have a job. When it came to income, Jason was resourceful. He was still a hitman for hire. But once the killing part of that job stopped – which was long before Y/N ever met him – it didn’t rake in as much money. Most of his money was either stolen from criminals or he would work odd jobs here and there.

However, the lie Jason and Y/N had agreed on was that he was a mechanic. And Jason did know absolutely everything there was to know about cars and motorcycles. He’d even promised Y/N that if she ever decided she wanted him to drop the vigilante life, he would do just that and start his own mechanic shop. But Y/N knew better than to ever ask that of him.

“Cars don’t stop breaking – even around the holidays,” Y/N joked darkly.

“Mhmm,” her sister answered.

Y/N already knew what her family thought of her boyfriend’s “job”: it wasn’t good enough for them.

The only reason they let it slide was because they knew Bruce Wayne was his adoptive father. Therefore they interpreted Jason’s ‘lack of ambition’ as his personal rebellion against his privilege and upbringing.

“Mom said he sent flowers and a bottle of wine to the house today and apologized for not being able to make it,” Kate added.

Y/N quickly looked at her in surprise.

“So I’m guessing from your reaction that it wasn’t your idea,” Kate teased.

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “He didn’t even tell me he did that.”

That was a Bruce Wayne move for sure. It didn’t matter that Jason had a rocky relationship with him, the Wayne charm and manners were deceivingly contagious.

————

Later that night, when everyone was in bed and Y/N decided to finally unpack. And she was surprised to find two of Jason’s t-shirts hidden in her bag. They were her favorites of his, always stealing them. Mostly she wore them to lounge around the apartment or to wear to bed. But her favoritism was in no way hidden.

Jason must’ve snuck them in her bag while she wasn’t looking.

Y/N smiled as she grabbed one of the shirts and raised it to her nose. It still smelled like him.

It was enough to make her feel guilty for not having called him yet. She’d texted him that she landed, but other than that, she’d been pretty silent.

She grabbed her cell and dialed.

“Hey, you.”

He always answered her calls as if they made his day, even if she’d called him multiple times that day already. His reaction to her calls never failed to make Y/N smile.

“I didn’t really expect you to pick up,” Y/N admitted.

“Always got time for you,” he answered lightly.

But then she heard background noise: wind blowing, distant sirens, people shouting at each other nearby.

Jason was on patrol. Or maybe he was doing some recon. 

But Y/N knew not to ask. 

“I see some of your clothes made the trip,” Y/N commented through a smile. Jason could hear the smile in her voice. “Those t-shirts have a mind of their own…”

“And my mom thought the flowers and card were sweet,” she added.

“I might not have met her yet, but I know that’s not gonna be enough to win her over,” Jason answered darkly.

Y/N didn’t say anything, because they both knew he was right.

“Flight was fine?” Jason asked, changing the subject.

“Mhmm.”

“I miss you.”

Y/N shook her head and laughed. “No, you don’t. I’ve been gone for like 12 hours.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She rolled her eyes. “Always the romantic.”

More sirens could be heard. They sounded closer this time. “Are you being careful?” All playfulness had disappeared from her voice.

“Of course.”

Y/N sighed. “Jason, I’m serious. Please, be safe.”

“I know. I know. Don’t worry about me.”

“You know that’s not gonna happen, J.”

He ignored her comment. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

————————

To say Y/N’s time at home was rough…was an understatement.

If Y/N wasn’t being asked a million questions about Jason, she was being interrogated for why he wasn’t there. And if Jason wasn’t the subject of the conversation, people acted like she was single – some even talking about setting her up.

Y/N realized she preferred the former.

Every year, her family threw a giant party.

And for the past five years, Y/N had always been the only one that was single. All of her siblings, all of her cousins, all of their family friends, all of their neighbors…every single one of them had a significant other during those years. 

Everyone...except her. Now, this year, all of them had kids or were expecting.

It was exhausting. 

Sometimes Y/N felt like they were all robots programmed to do the exact same things at the exact same time –  no original thought to be had.

Y/N would be lying if she didn’t spend most of the party wishing Jason was at her side. He would make fun of awkward situations with her. And he would stick up for her when her family teased her a little too much.

The other thing Y/N wasn’t prepared for was unintentionally studying  her family’s boyfriends or husbands. She felt like she was watching everyone’s relationships through a different lens now that she herself had her own. And to put it as kindly as possible…she was not impressed.

Y/N noticed how none of the men offered to help in the kitchen, instead deciding to sit on the couch and watch football and scream at the television. Or how when her cousin handed her son to her husband, and he acted like he didn’t even know how to hold the one year old. And later, when his diaper needed to be changed, he handed him back to his wife as if he had no idea how to do it himself.

Yet her family was stuck on Jason not being able to visit or that he was a mechanic.

What did someone’s job matter if they treated her like she was their world and he the best thing to ever happen to her?

If Jason were here, he would be in the kitchen cooking. And if they had a kid, it would be a 50/50 job – not a burden only Y/N had to bare. He would try to get to know everyone because he would want to know the people who raised the woman he loved. He’d make sure to check in on Y/N every once in awhile, making sure she didn’t need anything. 

Thinking about it all made Y/N miss Jason even more.

Needing to get some air, she decided to go outside and let the winter chill refresh her. It had been getting too hot in the house.

Y/N pulled her phone out of her back pocket and tapped Jason’s name.

“Hey, you.”

“Hi,” she sighed.

Just hearing his voice made her feel a bit better and tension left her body.

“What’s wrong?” Jason quickly asked.

“Nothing. Just…wanted to check in.”

For a second, she was going to explain that she had the sudden realization that all the men connected to her family were trash. And witnessing it was making her miss him more. But she didn’t really want to waste her breath and she figured she’d just come off dramatic more than sincere.

“Are you at your apartment?” She asked quickly.

“Yeah, I’m gonna leave for patrol in a bit…”

Then Y/N’s mind suddenly thought, ‘Fuck it.’

“Jason?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“If you were here…” She began softly.

“Mhmm,” he encouraged.

“What would you be doing?”

Jason was a bit confused by the question for a second. But he slowly got what she was asking.

“Well,” he took in a shallow breath. “I would’ve stolen Alfred’s famous chocolate chip cookie recipe and whipped up those bad boys to bring over. And I’d pretend to care about football with your dad.”

That made Y/N laugh.

“I’d help your mom in the kitchen, even when she pretended not to want it.”

“Really laying it on thick, huh?”

But Y/N knew he was right. Jason was the cook between the two of them – and a good one, too. He also was a helper. He couldn’t sit back and watch someone do something while he did nothing. No matter how big or small.

“Shhh,” Jason reprimanded and then continued. “But most importantly, I’d try to get as many embarrassing stories about you as I possibly could.”

“Well, thank goodness you’re not here then,” she teased with a roll of her eyes.

Jason was quiet a second before he asked, “Wanna tell me what’s wrong now?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Just miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“All my family’s boyfriends and husbands are losers. And I guess I’m just now realizing it.”

“Ahh,” Jason noted.

Now he really knew why she’d asked her question.

“It’s snowing here,” he told her as he looked out the window. “It’s almost making Gotham look pretty.”

“Are you going to the manor for Christmas?”

“Probably not,” Jason answered.

“Jason,” she grumbled. “What are you going to do instead? Sit in your apartment alone?”

“I’m gonna patrol. Crime doesn’t take holidays, Y/N.”

“Cheesy,” she pointed out. “Please be with your family, Jason. I don’t want you to be alone. OK?”

“I’ll think about it.”

Y/N knew that was as good as it was going to get.

Then she felt something on her cheek and she looked up. “Hey, it just started snowing here, too…” She told him with her head tilted back.

“I love you,” he sighed.

“I love you, too. Be careful tonight, Jason.”

Y/N gave herself a few more moments outside before returning to the party.

When she walked back inside, she immediately heard her name. But no one was calling to her. 

She was being talked about. 

She recognized her mom and sister’s voices, and then a couple of her aunts. They were talking around the corner, completely unaware that Y/N was in hearing distance.

So Y/N couldn’t help but linger.

“She says he works a lot. Every time I facetime her, he’s never there,” her sister Kate told the women. “I wouldn’t even really know what he looked like if it weren’t for her photos that she’s sent me. He doesn’t have any social media.”

“I just can’t believe he couldn’t get work off. Around the holidays?” Her mom added in utter disbelief. “Sounds like it won’t be surprising when she finds out he’s been unfaithful,” one her aunts commented.

The group hummed in agreement, but also disappointment. 

“He doesn’t even live in Metropolis. He lives in Gotham,” her mother supplied, only further backing the idea that Jason wasn’t committed. “God knows why. But I hate that Y/N is constantly going there. No good news comes from that city.”

Y/N clenched her teeth in anger.

If only they knew the truth about Jason. 

He was a hero and risked his life every night for an entire city – a city that had done nothing but hurt him. And he was 20 times the man than any of the men in their family.

She just wanted to scream at them for being so judgmental about a person they’d never even met.

But she couldn’t.

So Y/N stormed up to her childhood bedroom and decided she had enough of the party.

She shouldn’t have come home for the holidays. She would’ve rather waited for Jason to get back from his Red Hood work than listen to her family misjudge the first man she ever truly loved and wanted to share with them.

————————

Y/N was so tired when she got off the plane.

She felt like a zombie as she walked to baggage claim to grab her duffle.

What she wasn’t expecting was to find her boyfriend waiting for her in arrivals.

Y/N had told him she would just get a car.

But Jason seemed to have other ideas.

Y/N’s entire face brightened at the sight of him.

She practically ran to him and jumped into his arms.

Jason chuckled at her enthusiasm.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, her words muffled by his body.

“I thought I’d surprise you,” Jason said through a smile before he kissed her head.

Y/N didn’t respond, just held him tightly.

“Come on. Let’s get your bag and head home,” he finally told her.

—

“So, how was it?” Jason asked once they got into his car. Y/N shrugged, “It was fine.”

Her lack of details and curt response was enough warning for Jason to realize things were not totally fine between them.

He didn’t bother asking for more details during the car ride home. Instead, he answered all her questions about what he had been up to, how the case was going, if his family was alright.

Once they got back to Y/N’s apartment in Metropolis, the grace period seemed to be over.

Y/N had grown quiet as she moved around her apartment, unpacking and putting all her things away.

Jason walked into her bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed as she folded clean clothes. “This might be a shot in the dark. But I can’t help but feel that you’re not happy with me,” he finally pointed out.

She didn’t answer or look at him, just kept folding.

“Did something happen while you were at home?” Jason pushed.

She still didn’t answer. So Jason reached for her hands, holding them gently.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“I just didn’t expect how hard it was going to be…” she finally whispered with a bowed head.

“What would be?”

“Just going home without you,” she explained.

“Did something happening?”

“I mean, kinda? Not really. They just…” she hesitated. Did she really want to confess all of this to him? She knew it would only hurt him. "They think you’re a bad boyfriend.”

Jason just nodded slowly.

He should’ve seen this coming. Of course her family didn’t think he was good enough. How could they think anything different?

“I’m just…fucking frustrated,” Y/n groaned. “I knew what I was getting into when you told me about your other life and who you really were. I was willing to keep your secret and protect it. I just never thought about how hard it would be keeping it from my family.”

She shook her head. “They think you’re not committed or something. And that…that you’re probably cheating on me.”

The idea of him ever doing that her made Jason sick to his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Jason mumbled.

“What?” Y/N gasped. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But I have,” he argued. “I put you in this position.”

“No, I did. I did when I fell in love with you,” she clarified.

“But I don’t want you lying to the people you love.”

“I’m not telling you this because I’m mad at you or blame you, Jason. I’m trying to tell you why I’m frustrated.”

She rubbed her face. “I just want them to know what an amazing person you are...and how brave and selfless. How you take care of me and love me and…and protect me.” Her eyes began to water. “They’re never gonna know the real you…even when they do meet you. And I fucking hate it.”

“So what if you told them?” Jason offered.

Her eyes widened at that. “Jason…”

“I’m serious. What if you told them?”

She thought about it. But she already knew the answer.

“It wouldn’t do any good. If I told them, then they’d be worried about me. Worried that your other life was putting me in danger. Worried that I would get pulled into it.”

Jason knew she was right.

Her family probably preferred an absentee boyfriend over a vigilante.

“But I see how the shitty men that have joined my family are. And you’re nothing like them. You’re so much better. And they’ll never even know.”

“Come here,” Jason muttered before he pulled her to him.

He let her body sink into his as he held her.

“I’ll do anything you want,” he whispered as he rubbed her back. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I always wondered what it would be like to finally been in a relationship – to just have someone on my team no matter what. I went to all those family gatherings thinking I’d never have it. And once I did, once I found you…” Her thoughts died out. “I just never expected it to be this way.”

“Do you regret it?” Jason asked as he pulled away to look in her eyes.

Her brow furrowed. “Regret what?”

“Being with me. Falling in love with me.”

Her heart broke at the question. “Oh, Jason. Of course not. Never.”

“What if I stopped?” He asked.

“No. I would never ask that of you,” she quickly shot down.

“I’d do it for you,” he tried to argue.

“I know you would. But I’m not asking. Because I know what it would do to you. Every time you’d see something in the news, you’d hate yourself. Because you would convince yourself that you could’ve stopped it. And maybe you would be right.” She took in a deep breath. “Red Hood isn’t just something you do. He’s a part of you. And even though I worry about you constantly, I’m never gonna tell you to stop.”

Jason took his time in reading her face.

“OK?” She pushed.

He nodded.

Then he embraced her once again.

“I’m sorry you have to keep my secrets,” he breathed into her hair.

————————————

Y/N walked into Jason’s apartment.

It was a Friday night and they agreed to have her come to his place this weekend.

Jason was always weary of her coming to Gotham, preferring her to stay in the safety of Metropolis.

He knew they couldn’t do the distance forever, and eventually they’d move into together. But he wasn’t ready to leave Gotham yet. And he didn’t want Y/N to lowering herself to such a city.

“J!” Y/N called when she walked in.

He had given her keys to his apartment quite early in their relationship, and told her she was welcome at his place any time. However, he wasn’t a fan of her getting there after dark. Gotham was Gotham, and he didn’t like her wandering around the city by herself just in order to give him a surprise visit.

An envelope on Jason’s kitchen counter caught her attention.

She nosily looked at it and saw that they were plane tickets to her hometown with both of their names on each of them.  

She heard Jason walk up behind her. “What’s this?”

“A surprise,” he shrugged.

“What do you mean?” She laughed.

“We’re gonna visit your family,” he explained casually. “I called your mom and sister to find a weekend that worked.”

Y/N was shocked to silence.

“I know I fucked up when I couldn’t go with you during the holidays. I know this isn’t gonna solve everything. But I figured…it’s start.” Before he could say more, Y/N threw her arms around him.

————

Jason Todd knew how to throw on the charm. And no matter how thick he laid it on, it always felt sincere.

Y/N smiled as she watched her boyfriend interacting with her family.

He knew so much about each of them already, that he knew exactly what to talk about with every one of them.

For their long-weekend visit, they had decided to stay with her sister.

Jason knew she would be the hardest to win over and was the most protective over Y/N. He made it his personal mission to befriend her and show her how much he loved her little sister.

Y/N never said so, but Jason knew how important it was to her that Kate approved of him.

However, Jason hadn’t been able to have a conversation alone with her all weekend.

Until their last morning there.

Y/N was still sleeping when Jason had made his way to the kitchen.

He figured he could make Kate and her husband breakfast after housing them for a long weekend. And he made sure to start a pot of coffee while he was at it.

Halfway through making his specialty waffles, Kate walked into the kitchen rubbing her eyes.

“Oh, hi,” she greeted, clearly surprised to find Jason cooking in her kitchen.

“Morning,” Jason greeted.

“This is a surprise,” she said as she looked around the kitchen.

“There’s coffee if you want some.”

“T-Thanks…” she managed to mutter. “Do you need some help?”

“Nope. I got it. You just relax.”

Kate seemed to be unsure of how to behave when she was alone with her little sister’s boyfriend, and eventually sat on the kitchen stool with her coffee.

“Do you cook a lot?” She finally broke the silence with her question.

“I enjoy it,” he answered with a shrug. “I figured it’s the least I can do for you guys putting us up.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Jason.”

He continued cooking.

Kate figured this was her opportunity to get to know Jason – and not just through Y/N’s eyes. So, she started asking him question after question, and he seemed happy to answer them. Kate was surprised to find out about Jason’s traumatic childhood, making him realize that Y/N must’ve only shared his relation to Bruce Wayne and nothing more about his life before becoming an adopted Wayne.

Jason wasn’t surprised Y/N kept that part of his life to herself. She was protective of him that way. She always felt like his past was his story to tell, not hers.

“I know missing the holidays didn’t leave the best impression,” Jason told her after they’d been talking for awhile.

“You really mean a lot to Y/N. And your opinion matters more to her than you might think,” he added as he crossed his arms.

Kate seemed a little taken aback by how unafraid he was of confrontation.

He seemed more mature for his age – maybe for hers, even.

“I know I’m not going to win any of you over from just a single trip,” Jason continued. “But I’m going to work my ass off to make sure I get there.”

Kate smiled at that.

“I love her,” he told her quietly, but with determination. “She’s…Well, she’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Then he smirked. “And I’m not dumb enough to do anything to fuck things up with her.”

He took in a shallow breath. “I just…I just needed you to know that.”

Kate’s heart swelled from hearing her little sister’s boyfriend confessing his love for Y/N.

“Thank you for telling me that,” she whispered, trying to stop herself from crying. “I worry about her. And I hate that she’s so far away sometimes. I miss her.”

“She misses you, too,” Jason assured her.

“Thank you for taking care of her. I’m suddenly realizing you’re the only reason she’s eating anything that’s not out of a takeout container.”

Jason laughed. “I plead the fifth.”

Before any more could be said, Y/N walked into the kitchen as if she was sleep walking.

“Well, look who it is…” Jason teased.

Y/N walked to him silently, clearly wanting cuddles.

Jason chuckled at her, but gave her what she wanted. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. He had kept the PDA at an absolute minimum while he had been around Y/N’s family. But he couldn’t help it when Y/N was her sleepy and adorable self.

“You sleep OK?” He tried to whisper to her.

But Kate still heard it and pretended to look down at her phone.

Y/N nodded into his neck, making him chuckle at her more.

This was new for Kate, seeing her sister being loved and loving someone. Her instinct was to say it made her uncomfortable. But it was just something she wasn’t used to.

Soon Kate’s husband woke up and they all ate breakfast together.

And a few hours later, Y/N and Jason were packed and their was a Lyft was waiting outside to take them to the airport.

Jason hugged Kate and her husband and thanked them for hosting them. Then he grabbed Y/N’s bags and gave her a moment alone with her sister as he took their stuff to the car.

“I think I owe the two of you an apology…” Kate told her little sister.

“You do?”

“I think I judged him a bit too much before really giving him a chance.”

Y/N winced, but nodded. “Yeah, you did, actually.”

“He really loves you.”

Y/N smiled. “He does.”

“I just want you to be happy, you know that right?”

“I know. But sometimes you think that what makes you happy is what would make me happy. Our lives are different. And we want different things. Just because my relationship looks different than yours doesn’t mean it’s worse in some way.”

Kate nodded sadly, knowing her sister was right. “I get that now.”

-----------

A/N: I was inspired to write this when I thought about how my own family would react to me having a boyfriend like Jason Todd: a man who was secretly a vigilante and had a past too hard for anyone to ever imagine. Hopefully, other people can relate to this and it wasn’t too personal. 😬

Let me know what you thought!!!

[alwaysmarveling]

Storm

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Storms are the perfect weather for building forts, and Wanda’s going to make sure you don’t miss out on it.

A/N: I meant to get this out earlier, but then my arm turned into a human chicken wing (I know it makes no sense, you’re just gonna have to believe me)... anyway, I apologize for the delay, I hope you enjoy it!

Wanda woke to feel the bed shaking—no, scratch that. She woke up to feel the entire house shaking. The floors trembled, and the bedside lamp shook… Wanda braced herself to make sure none of the pictures on the walls fell down. As the thunder subsided, she relaxed slightly only to tense back up again at a loud whoosh. The buzzing that she was previously unaware of completely dissolved, leaving her in complete silence. Well, complete silence if she didn’t count the pounding of the rain against the windows, the howling wind, or the thunder that was bound to come back again. Sure enough, when she tried to turn on the lamp, no light appeared; the power had gone out.

A flash of lightning and a quick glance to her right told her that you were somehow still sound asleep. Your head was inches from her own, your own pillow forgotten and tossed to the side at some point during the night. No matter how far away the two of you were when you went to bed, as long as you were in the same bed, you somehow ended up using Wanda’s pillow instead of your own. And while some might find your hair tickling their nose or your soft snores right next to their ear to be annoying, Wanda thought it was nothing but angelic.

A catlike grin grew on Wanda’s face as she leaned over to wrap her arms around you. When you still didn’t stir, she began to press light kisses starting behind your shoulder and trailing up to your ear.

“Baaabe,” Wanda whispered. Her voice was both gentle and filled with urgency. “Malysh, wake up.”

“Huh? What’s going on?” With your sleepiness now turned bewilderment, you were able to notice how your girlfriend was trying and failing to stifle her giggles. “Wan, it’s still dark out,” you whined. “I’m sleepy.” You let out a huff and were two seconds away from throwing yourself back into the pillow when Wanda pulled you in to kiss the top of your head.

“Y/N,” she murmured, her voice muffled by your hair, “The power went out.”

“Okay. Night night.” The witch watched with a pout as you slid back down, a small grin playing on your lips as you closed your eyes.

“Detkaaa,” Wanda sang, poking your side lightly, “Let’s build a fort.”

“Okay,” you murmured, not paying attention enough to tell what you had agreed to. When you didn’t shift in the slightest, your girlfriend’s eyes narrowed. The romance movies had always promised her adventure, but here she was, ready and rearing to go, while the only adventure you were taking was from one side of the bed to the other, and not in a good way.

Had you been awake, you would have noticed how Wanda’s eyes lit up, the Cheshire cat grin returning as she realized how to get you up. The witch turned on her side, wrapping her arm around you. A low hum escaping from your lips told her that her plan was working; you thought she was going back to sleep. So, when a flash of lightning lit up the room and Wanda shot up with a gasp, you did too.

“Oh my god! Y/N, there’s a mouse!”

“What?! Where?” Arms slipping and legs flailing, you pushed yourself backwards into your girlfriend’s chest. You were too busy looking for the mouse to notice how your girlfriend was strangely unaffected by the presence of the rodent.

“Can we build a fort now?”

“Are you kidding me? Where’s the mouse?”

“Malysh… there’s no mouse. I just wanted to wake you up.” As much as Wanda wanted to give you an innocent look when you turned to look at her, she couldn’t help but burst into laughter at your raised eyebrows and gaping mouth.

“I hate you,” you muttered, closing your lips and narrowing your eyes at the still giggling witch. With that, you fluffed Wanda’s pillow and laid back down. Wanda watched you as you stared at the ceiling. You both knew you weren’t going back to sleep any time soon.

“So… the fort?”

“No.” Your girlfriend brought her fingers up to brush against the swell of your cheek.

“Pleeeeaaasseee?”

“No.”

“We can snuggle in the fort! And eat ice cream! And I’ll play with your hair after!” You knew she wasn’t going to give up until you said yes. To be fair, it sounded like a lot of fun, but you didn’t need her knowing that. So, with one big sigh and a dramatic eye roll, you slowly pushed yourself to sit back up.

“Fine. But none of this would be a problem if we just stayed in the Avengers Tower because the generator would be working.” Your girlfriend didn’t miss a beat as she jumped out of bed.

“Well, we’re not in the Avengers Tower, so we’re going to make a blanket fort. Now, come on.” She didn’t give you any time to go back on your answer, instead scooping you up in her arms and carrying you bridal style into the living room. She laughed at the squeak you let out before pressing a soft kiss to your browbone.

“I love you,” the brunette whispered.

“You’d better.” Now slightly less wary, you allowed yourself to melt into her arms. “It’s like 5 AM and you woke me up to build a blanket fort.”

“Actually, it’s 2:30…” Wanda barely moved in time as you shot upwards.

“2:30?! Wanda!”

“But, babe, the power is out! And it’s all stormy!” As if the world agreed with her, the walls trembled with another clap of thunder. “Perfect time to build a fort.” Your girlfriend set you down once you reached the living room, but you kept your arms wrapped around her, not letting her move away. “Malysh,” Wanda giggled, “You gotta let me go. We can cuddle once we build the fort.”

“‘S gonna take too long.” You buried yourself further into Wanda’s embrace, closing your eyes as she wrapped her arms around you.

“Cute, but…” You groaned as she pulled your arms off of her. “No more than thirty minutes. I promise.”

---

Unfortunately for you, Wanda was incorrect. One confusion-filled hour later, the two of you finally had the fort set up to Wanda’s liking (You couldn’t really care one way or another, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the absolutely adorable look of pride and glee on Wanda’s face when she clapped her hands together underneath her chin, sighing that, at last, the fort was perfect.).

The witch placed one hand on the small of your back to guide you in between the light blue cotton sheets that hung overhead—”It’ll be like the sky, detka!”—and the pillowy faux mink blankets that cushioned the hardwood floors. With a sleepy grin gracing your lips, you pushed yourself into the throw pillows the two of you had scavenged the house for to line the back of the fort and waited for your girlfriend to join you.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” the Sokovian exhaled as she wrapped an arm around your waist. She wasn’t wrong. The thunderstorms had yet to let up, and from Wanda’s strategic planning, the two of you had the perfect view of the rain hitting the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city lights shining through the plump drops that rolled down the glass. Small camping lanterns lit the actual fort, and Wanda had even found some fairy lights to string along the top. You didn’t have much time to admire the view, though, because the second you rested your head on Wanda’s shoulder, the house shook again as another loud rumble of thunder boomed, and the entire fort came crashing down on your heads.

As tired as you were, neither of you could help but burst into laughter at the irony of the situation. “Oh, yes... this is perfect… Wan,” you managed to get out in between the contractions of your stomach as you giggled. 

Someone could’ve taken the situation as a bad omen for your life together, overanalyzed it until they determined the two of you would never be fit for a future with each other in it, but for you guys, it was perfect; you could’ve stayed there forever, still wrapped in Wanda’s arms, the sheets now draped over your heads making it difficult for you to see anything but the lower half of Wanda’s face. But her laughter was the prettiest thing you’d ever had the privilege of hearing, her teeth sparkled as a beam of light from one of the lanterns managed to catch them, and you could just make out the beauty marks speckled across her face, the ones you loved to spoil with kisses until your girlfriend got impatient and guided your lips to hers.

When the two of you had finally caught your breath, you noticed a flash of red out of the corner of your eye, and the fort was reassembled in seconds. The remaining smile on your face immediately disappeared as you met Wanda’s eyes.

“Wanda, you couldn’t just do that the first time?”

“Nope.” The shake of her head was playful, though, which was more than enough to tell you what you needed to know.

“You totally could’ve.”

“Okay, maybe I could’ve, but it wouldn’t have been as fun.”

“Wan!” Your eyes narrowed further at her growing amusement, and you only relaxed slightly as your girlfriend brought you in closer to her side.

“Do you want your snuggles or not?”

“Yes please.” There was no way that you could’ve said no, especially now that you had already melted into the warmth of her embrace and sleepiness once again tugged at your eyelids. And so the two of you stayed that way for a while, with your legs draped over Wanda’s, your head resting on her shoulder and her head pressed against yours. In between the drawn-out blinks and heavy breaths, you managed to catch flashes of lightning and noticed how the flurries of rain would swell and fall repeatedly, never a consistent drizzle or downpour. Perhaps the one thing keeping you awake was the thunder. Wanda didn’t miss how you jumped slightly every single time it rumbled.

“You scared, printsessa?” your girlfriend murmured as she gently scratched your scalp in an effort to calm you down.

“Just a little startled is all,” you hummed sleepily as you pushed yourself further into her. “Could never be scared when you’re here.” Even though you were almost asleep, Wanda was quite awake, and she couldn’t help but smile at your sincerity.

“I love you,” she murmured with a kiss to your forehead.

“And I love you more.”

A comfortable silence settled itself between the two of you once again as Wanda went back to watching the storm and you played with her fingers. A thought came to you, and with you being as exhausted as you were, you barely noticed when it slipped through your lips and made itself known to Wanda.

“Wands, what would you say to having someone else to watch the storms with us?” It wasn’t until Wanda responded that you realized you had spoken out loud.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” The brunette pulled away from you slightly to study your face.

“Can we get a dog?”

“Yes! Of course!” All you could manage was a drowsy smile as Wanda cheered in excitement. “You have any ideas?” she asked after pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“Hmm… maybe a bernedoodle? They’re really cute and really sweet.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” your girlfriend agreed. “Or maybe a-”

“And they have such cute eyes. Oh Wanda, the eyes.” Wanda paused as you let out a dreamy sigh.

“Malysh…”

“What?” You kept your gaze directed at Wanda’s fingers as you continued to fiddle with them because you knew you’d crack the second you made eye contact with her. Obviously, though, it was pointless since she had already figured you out.

“You got one already, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Y/N.”

“Okay, fine,” you sighed. “Yes.”

“Printsessa, I love you, but we’re supposed to talk about these things together!” The continued presence of her warmth and her hand that had never left your waist told you that she wasn’t mad, and you were extremely grateful for that.

“I know, I know, but he was so cute, and I couldn’t say no, and you just had to be there, Wands! You wouldn’t have said no if you were there.” Wanda simply sighed, knowing that, as much as she’d rather not admit it, you were right.

“What’s his name?” she finally asked, resting her chin back on the top of your head.

“Storm.”

“You were really waiting for the perfect opportunity to tell me, huh? And how long have you known about this?” You shrunk slightly at the sternness that filled her voice.

“Maybe a couple of days…”

“Y/N.”

“Okay, maybe a couple of weeks. Or months.”

“Detka! So when is the dog getting here?” 

“This weekend!” The witch’s head spun at how long you had managed to keep the secret from her. And while she loved the thought of getting a dog with you, she was certainly not expecting it to happen this soon, especially since you had only just brought it up minutes ago. But she couldn’t help but laugh when you responded with such excitement, your body perking up even though you were so close to dozing off in her arms. As excited as you were, you couldn’t help but tense up after sharing that with Wanda. She’d taken the initial news better than you expected, but this…

“You’re lucky I love you,” Wanda finally sighed, and it was with that that you were able to relax once again.

“What can I say? I’m irresistible.”

“Don’t push it,” the witch grumbled, and you two chuckled, rain still pounding down on the house and the storm just as lively as before.

---

It didn’t take long for you to fall back asleep with the burden you’d been carrying for months now spilled and accepted. Wanda continued to look mindlessly out the window, focusing for one moment on a particularly fat drop rolling down the window before switching to another. She thought about how you’d tensed up each time you revealed a new piece of the secret to her, and if she was being honest, it hurt her a little. She wanted you to be able to come to her with anything, trust her with anything, without having to feel guilty or ashamed. The witch pulled her eyes away from the window to watch your sleeping form.

“I’m always going to love you, malysh. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be sure to hold down the fort from now on, I promise. No more collapsing in two seconds.” With a final soft giggle and a kiss to your head, she allowed herself to rest. She’d keep her promise and prove it to you every day, multiple times a day; she was sure of it. And even though you didn’t hear her, that weekend, when the two of you started your life as a family of three, you knew it too.

[spaceskam]

welcome to another "I wrote this at work ignore the typos" situation featuring content in the little teaser for s3

ao3

"Michael Guerin with a cup of tea. Interesting."

"Bettering myself with soothing beverages," Michael said, leaning back in his chair as he looked up at Alex. He still felt a little off kilter, but he had no intention of guilt tripping Alex. It was a work in progress. He was a work in progress.

"Is that a quote from self proclaimed life coach Isobel Evans?" Alex asked, cocking his head to the side and smiling. Michael felt dizzy with it. It'd been so long without that fucking smile.

"How'd you know?" Michael asked, trying to keep the conversation light and not let it drift to an antagonistic place. He was good at that. Unfortunately, he was less good at keeping that at bay. "Where's the boyfriend?" Work in progress.

"He couldn't stick around, had to get to a meeting. He just met me at the bus stop," Alex said. Michael nodded and only then let his eyes drift away from his face, giving him a quick once over and tried not to be greedy with it. He still had his bags. "Is this seat taken?"

"Yeah," Michael said, casual as possible because Alex deserved that, "Saving it for this guy I met a few years back. You might know him. Around my height, dark hair, nice biceps, used to be in the army, killer thighs–literally, I almost suffocated me once."

"Shut up," Alex laughed, sitting across from him, "And I wasn't in the army."

"Same evil."

"Fair enough," Alex said, clasping his hands together and leaning forward, "Man, what's a guy gotta do around here to get a drink?"

Michael absolutely did not get his hopes up about this.

"Just sit there and look pretty," Michael said, pushing himself to his feet.

He'd been working a little harder and getting Sanders to make the place look a bit nicer in the front so new comers would show up, both resulting in everyone making more money. It was the most money Michael had ever had saved up before and he barely knew what to even do with it. He'd never wanted it before, never wanted to act like he was here to stay, but now it was there and now he could pay for Alex's drink.

He allowed himself to feel a little good about himself for that.

He order a medium vanilla latte, extra vanilla and an extra shot of expresso like he'd seen Alex order when they were a younger. Before he was a complete fuck up. Before when ordering anything but black coffee felt rebellious. And he paid for him for the first time. And he absolutely wasn't prideful bringing it back.

The look on Alex's face said he was also aware that this was the first time he could afford to buy him something so trivial, but he wasn't going to say anything because he was Alex. He took a sip as Michael sat across from him again and he smiled with a tiny bit of foam gracing his top lip. Michael felt his chest constricting with some twisted sort of pride and he refused to let himself be embarrassed by it.

"Thank you," Alex said.

"No problem."

Then they lapsed into silence, drinking their respective drinks and staring. Alex never turned his head away like he usually did; Michael never broke the silence like he usually did. None of it was awkward or uncomfortable or tense. It was just... having non-alcoholic drinks with someone he loved in whatever sense of the word he could.

It was nice. It was easy. It was something so completely different than Michael knew what to do with.

He craved more.

"So, do you need a ride to your house so you don't have to walk with all that?" Michael asked, definitely not mentioning that Forrest at the very least could've taken it. Granted, there's a chance he offered and Alex declined, which would be very much like Alex, but still. If he can kiss him, he can help with his bags.

"Depends. Are you willing to drive out to the middle of nowhere?"

"So that was a sold sign," Michael said. Alex took a deep breath and nodded.

"Yeah. It was a nice house, but it didn't really feel like home, you know? And after everything..."

"No, I get it," Michael said, nodding, "So where are you staying now?"

"Old Valenti hunting cabin. My cut of the inheritance and what I'm getting for selling my house is gonna be used on making it decent," Alex said.

"And amping up the security system," Michael added. Alex grinned and nodded.

"And amping up the security system."

"Well, it's my day off, so I can definitely take you," Michael said, not saying he took the day off specifically to meet Alex. That wasn't necessary information.

"You don't have to."

"What if I want to?" Michael asked. Alex looked at him, still smiling but he was clearly a little wary. "Just let me help out. I'm even going to try to not make you feel bad about the boyfriend."

"Oh, well, thank you so much for your efforts," Alex said sarcastically, but his tone was light and his smile was even more so, "But you really don't mind?"

"Alex, it's the least I can do," Michael said. It sounded weird in his voice, but it felt right. Alex seemed to agree if the look on his face said anything. Michael was more than a little proud of himself for not second guessing himself or assuming the worst.

Maybe he actually did do some growing.

"Okay then. Let's go."

Having Alex in his truck again didn't feel real. He was giddy in a way he hadn't felt in awhile and the fact that his bags were on the floor and not between them made that feeling skyrocket. Alex was comfortable with him. Or, at least, he seemed to be.

"Did you have fun?" Michael asked. Alex huffed a laugh.

"Well, I mean, I was doing dirty work, so not really. Forrest met me a couple times but I never wanted him to stay too long, was way too dangerous," Alex said, turning in his seat to face him.

"When I came out there with Kyle, you let me stay awhile," Michael said. He wasn't bragging. Absolutely not. He was simply useful for the task at hand and Kyle had to get back to work. Them eating take out on a hotel room floor and staying up too late was just convenient, a secret little addition to the trip.

"Yeah, but I trust you not to get killed by accident," Alex said, "Forrest had a good childhood. He's not at all aware of his surroundings like you are."

"Good for him," Michael said, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel. Alex may or may not have noticed.

"Also," he said slowly, "I'm kinda getting spoiled with the telekinesis thing, I'm not gonna lie."

Michael bit the inside of his cheek and tried not to be unnecessarily happy with that.

"Well if you ever need to make use of it, I'm your man," Michael said. Alex hummed in response–Michael couldn't tell if it was an acknowledgment or agreement.

It was around a 45 minute drive to the Valenti hunting cabin and the trip there was a bunch of small, winding, hand-made paths. You couldn't find it if you didn't know it was there. It was perfect for Alex.

Michael helped him get his bags inside and took in the fact that most of the stuff that had been in his house wasn't present. The furniture was broken in and there were a few boxes around, but not enough to hold everything from his house.

"I need a change," Alex said, going to the breaker box to turn the electricity on, "I thought that when I came back the first time that would be my big change, but I just did more of the same shit. So this is a real change."

"Sounds like it'd be good for you," Michael agreed.

"Yeah," Alex sighed, looking around. His eyes eventually landed on Michael again. "Do you have to go?"

"No, not unless you want me to," Michael said. Alex nodded.

"Move some boxes for me, telekinesis boy?" he asked. Michael grinned.

"Sure."

The spent what felt like two hours rearranging and unpacking and cleaning, Alex encouraging him to show off in a way that felt so ridiculously good. Everything about this was good. Spending time with him without expectation and tension and time limits.

He loved him more than his body had space for.

"Michael!" Alex said, immediately followed by a laugh, "You're going to break something!"

"I won't, have faith," Michael said, pulsing with the attention, "And if I do, I'll fix it."

He twisted his wrist, manuvering the fully put together bed frame through the door with his mind. It bumped into the door frame once or twice, but Alex just laughed and lightly scolded him.

Later, once they did what they could and got settled, Michael found himself on Alex's back porch with cans of coke in hand instead of beer.

"I love the view," Michael said.

"There's deer that'll get close if you're quiet," Alex said, "You'll have to sit with me to see them sometime."

"Yeah, whenever you'll have me," Michael said.

"Whenever you want," Alex responded. He sounded like he meant it.

Him meaning it didn't stop his phone from lighting up, didn't stop the way Alex's face closed off, didn't stop the way he sighed and locked it back. He took a long sip of his drink before he spoke.

"Forrest is on his way," Alex said. Michael shifted in his seat and nodded.

"So I should go."

"Do you have work tomorrow?" Alex asked instead of saying leave, instead of saying stay.

"Yep, bright and early."

"Okay," Alex said, "If I bring my truck up there in the morning, do I get privileges where I can sit with you in the back while you look over it and tell me what I need to fix after it sitting in my yard for nine months?"

Michael swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. He was leaving, he had to go because it wasn't his place to stay right now. But there was a promise of tomorrow. Of spending more time together just because.

The privilege of it, Alex said.

"Absolutely," Michael said, standing up, "I'll squeeze you in."

"Cool. I appreciate it," Alex said, looking up at him with a smile, "And I appreciate you helping me out today. Made all of that a lot easier."

"Not a problem," he said, "So I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Wait," Alex said quickly, getting himself to his feet and coming closer. Without much of a warning about what exactly was coming, Alex wrapped his arms around his neck. Michael hugged him back easily.

Alex squeezed him; Michael squeezed back.

"I'm so glad you're back," Michael whispered against him.

"I've gotta come home at some point, right?" Alex whispered back. Michael nodded.

They held on for longer than they should.

"Alright," Alex said after awhile, letting go with a reluctance Michael wasn't so unfamiliar with it ached, "I'll see you in the morning. I'll bring food."

Michael didn't like to get his hopes up.

He decided not to be scared this time.

[marsbutterfly]

ymir x shy!reader

The Confident Girl's Delight

Summary: Ymir spends day and night teasing you so nobody will ever find out about your secrets meetings.

                                      Warning: NSFW!

                                           Wattpad! | AO3!

“Come on, Y/N” Ymir purrs, her fingers resting on your chin as she eagerly brings your eyes to hers.

The chilly breeze hits you but it is not the reason why your hands begin to shake. You desperately start to look for a way to escape her but her arms block any chances you might have.

“Stop it, Ymir.” You say, feeling as your cheeks burn hotter than the fiery pits of hell. You don’t mean it of course and she can tell by the tone of your voice.

“Do you really want me to?” She asks, placing her lips against your ear before biting your skin gently and you wonder how the hell did you find yourself in this situation.

It wasn’t unusual for Ymir to flirt with you, she did it as you were walking into the shower or even when you had some kind of food in your mouth. Her biggest delight was making your cheeks burn and you knew it.

Nothing too serious, always a compliment here, a smack on your ass there. You know if you ever told her to stop with a serious tone in your voice, she would listen without a second thought but the question was: did you want her to stop?

No.

The truth is that between training and Krista, receiving Ymir’s attention was a privilege not many people could have.

Of course, along with the flirting came a bit of teasing: about your accent from the interior of Wall Rose or the way your hair doesn’t stick to your ponytail for too long before turning into a mess.

During one uneventful night, you sat in the dining hall by yourself. The voices around you were loud and yet you somehow managed to tune them all out.

Your thoughts race through your mind, the images of Ymir’s sweaty face after exercising still fresh in your head. The drops of water that come from her bottle and drip down her abdomen contrast with the light from the candles.

Your face burns and you use your left hand to fan it, hoping to cool yourself down. You chug on the water as if your life depended on it.

Suddenly, you are pulled away from your thoughts when a pair of hands make their way down your shoulders stopping an inch away from your breasts. You gasp, knowing exactly who those hands belonged to.

You silently beg for her to never stop touching you but sadly she sits by your side taking a massive bite out of your apple.

“Why do you always eat my food?” You whisper while looking down at your nearly empty plate. You move your lips around, your fingers won’t stop fidgeting and you can’t quite breath anymore. Her face comes close to yours, too close.

“Because everything that comes from you is more delicious.” Ymir says, a smirk creeping on the corner of her lips.

“Ymir, leave her alone!” Krista says while pushing the taller one away from you. She can’t help but laugh at the state you find yourself in and you feel her fingers brush against your chin.

“Meet me in the closet by the Commander’s Office in one hour.” She says, pulling the petite, blonde girl alongside as they walk away towards the exit of the massive room.

You sigh, scared of what she could possibly want. But alongside the fear comes a brand new feeling: excitement.

The minutes go by slowly, almost as if the clock feels bad for you but eventually the time has come to face her in the closet.

The torches illuminate the otherwise dark hall and your steps echo quietly but to you it sounds much like a titan’s sprint after humans: ground shaking.

You knock on the door only to realize she isn’t there yet and a wave of relief washes over your body. Of course the feeling doesn’t last long since suddenly you feel Ymir’s hand on your back as she pushes you inside gently. In a more gentle manner than usual at least.

The lock clicks behind her and she pushes you against the wall, her arm wraps around your waist as she spins you around prompting you to face her. Her nose brushes against yours gently and you can’t hold back a little moan.

A delighted smile on her lips as she plants them on your neck, her hand moving up from your waist to your breasts underneath the shirt. When Ymir’s cold fingers brush against your nipple, you feel your heartbeat pulsating on your clit.

“I missed you.” She whispers before you feel the tip of her warm tongue tracing the outside of your ear. She pinches your skin and you cry out, squirming against her touch while silently pleading for more.

“I missed you too.” You say in response, your voice dying in your throat.

You cross your legs in hopes of keeping yourself from getting soaking wet but once Ymir’s hand enters your underwear, you are done for. You feel like at that moment you could melt faster than butter above fire.

“Ask for it, baby.” She says, her lips meeting yours for a split second before she resumes the attacks on your neck. Your body reacts to her actions immediately and you know the marks tomorrow will be bad.

“I…” You stutter quietly, “I want you to touch me.”

“Where? Here?” She asks, sliding two fingers inside of you barely in but deep enough to pull all the wetness you attempted so hard to keep locked in.

“Yes. Fuck.” You respond, digging your nails on her skin. Her now slippery fingers rub circles on your clit, dragging quiet sobs out of you.

“Oh to hear you curse is such a blessing.” She giggles and you hiss in response. “Hold onto me.”

You do as you are told, holding onto her for dear life in such a way not even a higher power would be able to bring you two apart. Her fingers slip past your clit making their way down towards your entrance. They slip in with ease and you gasp, biting Ymir’s shoulder in an attempt to keep yourself quiet.

With her free hand, she pulls your mouth away from her skin and brings it close to hers. She bits the right corner of her lips gently before going in for a sloppy kiss. The tip of her tongue brushes against yours as it asks for permission to deepen the action.

This isn’t the first time you’ve had a moment like this with Ymir, in fact she has fucked you in places you could never have imagined: during dinner with all the other soldiers around, in the showers after practice.

Ymir moves her fingers in and out gently while her thumb brushes circles on your clit. It doesn’t take long for her to find your g-spot and she takes full advantage of the situation presented to her.

Uncertain, you decide to be bold and with one of your hands you reach underneath her shirt. You can feel every little bit of her abs and you decide to stay there for a moment. Sweat drips down her skin as the room begins to feel stuffy.

Once you touch her breast, your hand shakes slightly as if you don’t know what to do from here on out. So she gently places her free hand above yours, never taking her fingers out from inside of you, in fact, she begins to speed up her actions.

“Squeeze it, like this.” She says, applying a bit of pressure to your hand. You do as you are told once again and your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

Once she curls her fingers inside of you, it doesn’t take long for you to reach an orgasm. The tip of her middle and ring digits brush against your g-spot while her thumb never stops contact with your clit. She always knew exactly how to touch you to make you melt quickly so nobody would ever find you.

You moan against her lips, feeling as your body spasms and your legs close shut, her fingers still inside of you. It’s involuntary and you feel bad because you don’t want to hurt her but for once she doesn’t make a comment about how tight you are when you come so you simply stay quiet.

She pulls out from inside of you, gliding her wet fingers above your lips. You try to look away but in the end you open your mouth, tasting yourself on her skin. You make sure to lick it clean before she pulls it out, drying them on her shirt.

“Same time tomorrow?” You ask with a bold expression on your face and she snorts.

“Sure.” She replies, planting one final kiss to your lips before opening the door. She looks over her shoulder one last time, shooting you a deadly smile and you can barely hear it but she says “I love you”. The air around you smells like your pussy and all you want to do is bury your face in a pillow, hoping no one would know where it came from.

After a few minutes, you exit the room only to find the hallway to be completely empty and you thank God for it. As you walk back to your room, you still dream of Ymir’s touch on your skin and how it feels good to have her undivided attention.

Once you pass through the doors to your dorm room, a voice enters your ears and someone’s hand grabs your ass.

“Why are you blushing, Y/N?” Ymir asks, knowing damn well she is the reason why. You don’t say a word and simply hurry to your bed, pulling the covers above your head.

Her words are still fresh in your mind, even if you didn’t get to say it back. “I love you.” First you think it’s because she is scared you won’t reciprocate her feelings, which is not the case but eventually you realize she left in such a hurry because she was trying not to embarrass you.

You hear Krista’s disapproving voice but the words are muffled. All you can make out of it is “Leave her alone.”

But Ymir will never leave you alone, she loves to tease you in every possible way and you are grateful for it. Even if it’s the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you.

[sserpente]

A/N: Surprise! Here’s the thing—I don’t normally write sub!Loki at all. However, since Christmas is a time of gifting and making wishes come true and it has been requested quite a few times in the past, I decided to take on an anon request. I can’t write fully-fledged sub!Loki, I just can’t… so I hope this will do! There’s another anon request in there too. I hope you all enjoy it!

Words: 2357 Warnings: sub!Loki-ish, fluff, smut

Additional NSFW warnings: light bondage, oral, usage of anal sex toy

-

You cursed when you stubbed your toe on the door, shutting it aggressively all the while flinging your bag into the corner like it was the reason for all of your problems. You were trembling, anger and exhaustion gnawing at your guts.

When you let out a desperate sigh as you kicked off your winter boots, Loki tilted his head. He had appeared in the threshold leading to the living room on your floor—an entire floor on Stark Tower, all to yourself. Today, however, this very circumstance did not cheer you up in the slightest.

“A good evening to you too, pet.” He said, eyeing you with curiosity.

“I bloody hate working in retail!” You spat in response. “Why are people being so idiotic, can you tell me that? Oh, I want a refund on this obviously used item which I don’t even have the receipt for, oh, can’t you hurry up I need to catch a train—I had hours to spend on browsing but I want to pay for this immediately or I’m just gonna leave, oh, can you recommend a gift for my niece, I barely know her or her interests but surely you’ll find a gift for her because I am too lazy to use my own brain?” You were fuming. Loki chuckled.

“My dear… breathe.” He was never this gentle with any of the other Avengers but then again, you were the only one he had taken a romantic and sexual interest in. You sighed when he approached you to pull you into a tight embrace, forcing you to calm down for him. Your hands wrapped around his middle almost automatically, allowing him to lift you off the ground and carry you into your bedroom.

Loki spent most of his time in your flat here in Stark Tower. Here, he wasn’t always under suspicion of plotting world domination again—and in fact, all he did was reading, stealing your sweets and learning more about Midgardian culture, first and foremost Christmas. Last week, you had forced him through all Santa Clause films and he had actually ended up enjoying them in the end.

Another sigh escaped your lips as you pressed your face against his chest, letting his hand stroke over your head. Perhaps you should finally let the cat out of the bag and tell the others about your relationship. Loki could be so sweet… and he loved being pampered by you, even if you made sure to take your time teasing him thoroughly first.

“Is there a particular reason you left me a gift this morning?” He changed the topic. Oh yes. You had almost forgotten about this. You had shoved part of Loki’s Christmas gift into his green and gold socket above your bed before you had left this morning. It was Christmas Eve and since you would be spending the 25th with the other Avengers, you had decided that him receiving part of his gift in private would be more appropriate.

“Me?” You asked, playing innocent. “That must have been Santa, Lokes.”

“Are you going to tell me what exactly it is?” He probed. You giggled, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

“I was hoping you’d ask. Where did you put it?” Loki conjured it up seemingly out of thin air—you’d never grow tired of seeing him use his seidr—and handed you a black plastic packaging which contained an equally black butt plug with a prostate massager for men. Loki and you had recently had a conversation about toys for men as opposed to women only and much to your surprise, he had shown quite the interest in the topic. The faces of the Avengers would have been priceless, had you put it under the Christmas tree for him along with his main present.

You grinned. “Lie down on the bed for me—and magic your clothes off, will you?” Loki smiled at your request. He did not often let you command him around like that—but when he did he knew you needed it, to have some fun with his arousal for you to distract yourself from work and other sorrows, much like today. You shouldn’t be in such a bad mood on Christmas Eve, after all.

Still smiling gently, he did as he was told and then slightly raised his eyebrows for you to make the next move. You winked at him after admiring his semi-hard cock for a bit, disappearing in the bathroom. Once you had returned, hands washed, clothes changed and sex toy sanitised properly, you got to work. Loki’s eyebrows shot up all the way when you produced the bondage rope you kept in the drawer right next to the bed and then climbed on the bed as well, straddling his strong thighs.

“Please? Let me play.” You pouted. Loki sighed—allowing you to tie his hands together and then to the bedpost. Both of you were very well aware that he could rip himself free at any time—it was more a matter of it looking pretty and downright hot to have the God of Mischief tied up and at your mercy, at least hypothetically.

He shifted on the mattress just a little when you reached for the toy again which you had already coated in a thick layer of strawberry lube and brought it to his anus. It was designed to directly stimulate his prostate and you positively couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

“What are you doing?” His question was a warning; reminding you it was a privilege he was playing submissive for you and that the… situation could change at any moment. You swallowed, your own arousal pooling in your knickers like a waterfall.

“Trust me? It will feel good, I promise.”

Loki sighed once more—and gasped when you slowly and carefully worked the butt plug inside of his rear. His cock twitched, joyful anticipation mixing with impatience. By the time it was snugly in place, he was as hard as rock and moaned upon you wrapping your hand around him, giving him a few strokes with your hands partially still covered in the strawberry lube you had used.

Loki bucked his hips almost immediately, growling when you drew your hand away again. You chuckled. “You look pretty adorable like that, you know… desperate for pleasure…”

He growled in response. “You will be the one desperate for pleasure and begging me for my touch if you keep this up for long.” He threatened. Your giggle intensified. You felt so much better already.

“Just you wait.” You said, pressing the button of the small bullet vibrator inserted into the butt plug. Loki tensed up when it hummed to life, sending continuous vibrations through his anus and stimulating his prostate.

Then, taking mercy on him, your hand returned to his impressive length, jerking and pleading for attention. A few drops of precum had already formed on his red tip—it was too tempting to ignore. Unceremoniously, you bent down and closed your lips around him, licking over his slit and lapping up all he had to give for now.

Loki tugged at his restraints. A little more strength and he’d tear them apart altogether and he was barely just containing himself anymore already. Knowing he could stop this anytime and pin you down underneath him to just take what he desired for some reason only fuelled his arousal. He bucked his hips in an attempt to plunge himself deeper into your mouth but you were being particularly relentless today. He growled once more, watching how a grin formed on your lips. With a smacking sound, you released him again, continuing to stroke him all the while the prostate massager kept vibrating inside of his rear.

“Does that feel good?” You asked, almost timidly. Loki was an experienced lover, you knew this much. How many Asgardian women had had the pleasure to learn what had earned him the nickname silver tongue you did not want to know and yet, even though his confidence in bed and knowledge of pleasing a woman was exciting, at the very same time it intimidated you.

Loki nodded, blue eyes locked with yours. “Yes. Keep going, my dear.” It almost sounded like an order—one you’d do better not to defy. You took it as an invitation and pressed the button of the vibrator again.

The setting was on high now—but not high enough to tip him over the edge just yet. You needed to hear him whimper first. You had managed once, a few weeks back when Loki had allowed you to tie him up and tease him for a while for the very first time. In the end, it had resulted in him flipping you around and fucking you roughly from behind so hard you had been unable to walk the next day. Your cunt clenched upon remembering how deliciously sore you had felt. It was a risk you were willing to take again.

Loki bucked his hips once more, thrusting up in a steadier rhythm now and desperate for more friction… which gave you another idea. Biting your lower lip, you stood from the bed and peeled off the comfy trousers you had changed into, right along with your underwear. If only Loki could see the wet spot on them as you stepped out of them, he would be grinning like a cat who got the cream but fortunately for you, you were in charge tonight—or at least, for now.

He eyed you like a hungry wolf, growling in an animalistic manner as soon as your slick pussy lips rubbed against his tip and you massaged your clit with it for a while before slowly, painfully slow, sinking down on him and sheathing his cock deep inside of you. You moaned, throwing your head back. Riding him always felt so much deeper than when he was on top… unless he hauled your legs over his shoulders that was.

“More…” He choked out, his blue gaze getting almost feverish, about to turn him into a mindless beast. You stilled, not moving an inch and just kept him inside of you all the while the vibrator in his rear kept stimulating him. He gritted his teeth when you failed to move, bucking up his hips in a desperate attempt to get you to ride him but you decided to take your time. Leaning forward, you began covering his chest and neck in light kisses, tongue darting out every now and then to taste him. Loki was already sweating, his limbs shaking and you knew then just how badly he needed his release. The restraints keeping his hands above his head on the bedpost gave a suspicious tearing sound as he thrust up into you once more.

He was close. He was so close. Smiling, you kissed him and moved back up and into a sitting position. Your fingers found the switch of the vibrator, turning the setting even higher. There was no need for you to move and ride him anymore. Loki came by himself and finally, gave you the whimper you had so desired to hear from him. Your lips parted when he starting twitching inside of you, spilling himself with a groan. His warm seed coated your walls, his cock jerking until he was all but spent. Once he had caught his breath, you turned off the vibrator… for now.

“Get that lovely quim of yours up here.” He ordered with a hoarse voice, once more raising the question whether you had ever truly been in charge of his pleasure. But who were you to defy him? Biting your lower lip, you let him slide out of you, whimpering at the loss of feeling so deliciously full, inched forward until your most private parts were only inches from his mouth and then carefully sat again, your thighs to either side of his head.

Loki wasted no time. Humming contently, he licked over your slit and clit, suckling on your outer lips and circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue pressing against it, massaging it, until you dug your fingers into his raven hair, urging him on. You were so incredibly wet for him it wouldn’t take you long to gush all over him either and so you did. Loki ate you out like you were his last meal, pampering your clit until your body couldn’t take it anymore and you fell, seeing stars as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in pure pleasure. You only realised once you lifted yourself off his face because he would not stop that he had wrapped his fingers around the bars of the top of the bed. The bondage rope was torn apart beyond repair.

You smiled, allowing him you wrap you in his arms as he flipped you both around so you came to lie on the bed more comfortably.

“Feeling more relaxed now, my dear?” He asked with a sly smile.

“Much better. Thank you.” Loki hummed in response. “I’m pretty hungry… how about an early Christmas dinner? Just the two of us, without the others.”

“That sounds promising. But first I will need you to get that thing out of me.” He said, eliciting a devilish grin from you.

“I think I’m gonna leave that thing where it is for now. You’ll get a taste of your own medicine. Remember that golden butt plug you made me wear on Christmas last year? Revenge is sweet. So…” You paused. “Are you going to help me cook?”

Loki’s expression darkened, sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine. “You are going to remove that right now.”

“Nope,” you announced smugly, freeing yourself from his embrace and climbing off the mattress. “I’ll be in the kitchen, whenever you’re ready.”

Truth be told, you never made it to the kitchen. Loki was after you in a matter of seconds, dragged you back into bed and made sure you came to regret teasing him like that. Oh, and you most definitely lost count after at least five more orgasms.

-

A/N: There’s a hint in there for another smutty Loki Christmas Imagine soon to come. Can you find it? ;-)

If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥ 

[siimjaeyun]

blue bag- jay park

genre: fluff, angst, bad boy au

tw: street violence, mentions of gangs

-------

Jay's reputation at Belift wasn't exactly a secret to most people. The loose uniform with the leather jacket, covered bruises, and exposed tattoos were noticeable to anyone who bothered to pay attention.

Most people would like to assume to not judge him by his appearance, but his character matched it to a tea. He never bothered to give anyone the time of the day, much less even look in their direction. The only people who received such privileges were his closest six friends.

Or anyone who dared to cross his path- including the slight punches he's thrown at the occasional classmate.

But people couldn't see behind his intentions. Like the time he almost beat one of uppers to a pulp when they tried picking on jungwon his first year. All good intentions.

On this fateful day, the teacher had thought a slight change would mix things up. Instead of placing Jay in the back by himself like usual, he placed him right beside you.

"Hi Jay!" Your warm welcome startled him to say the least. Sure, he was used to love letters by other girls, but you didn't really look at him that way.

He stayed silent and placed his head back onto the desk. At the end of class, you bid him goodbye and walked out with your friends who seemed to tattle over him almost immediately.

-------

After yet again another argument with the rivaling gang leader, he finds himself cornered in the back of an alley way. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to think you could fight five men at once.

Tired, and out of breath, he's barely holding onto himself before there's a final blow to his lower stomach, collapsing onto the ground before him.

The men are about to approach him, this time, aiming towards his back, but retreat at the sounds of a siren.

"Here, hurry! They might come back." He looks up and finds it's you, carrying a bag in one hand and reaching out towards him with the other.

"Get lost." Jay, who is too stubborn to ask for help, attempts to get up before his knees give up on him.

"You can't walk. Stop being a bitch and let me help you." You swing his arm over your shoulder, and pull him up, guiding him towards the exit of alley way. At the closest convenience store, you rest him on a bench, bringing a towel to his face to wipe off the blood from his brow and lip.

"How did you see me?" He barely manages to ask.

"I didn't know it was you until I saw your face, which is very beat up by the way." He observes quietly and patiently waits for you retreat the towel from his face, slowly admiring the way you move your eyebrows while humming a small beat. 

“I’m done. I’ll call a taxi to take you home so you can finish up. I’m going to assume this isn’t the first time you get beat up.” Jay, snapping back to reality, stands up quickly and blocks your view of the street. 

“I can manage. Now go home.” He nods towards the direction of the grand city. 

“You can barely walk. Either I take you home, or text someone to come pick you up.” Jay immediately takes the second option, and searches quickly for his phone before realizing he must of left at it home. 

“Go ahead, call the taxi.” He mutters under his breath. The bright lights signal to him that he has arrived, and in silence, you drop him off, and leave, not letting Jay even look back and say a quick ‘thank you.’ 

----- 

If Jay didn’t know any better, it’s almost as if nothing had occurred yesterday. He’s still wearing his black mask to cover up his bruises, but you walked in with a smile and the same welcome from the past two weeks. 

Usually, he would turn the other way or not even bother to look at you, but his slight nod was reassurance enough. 

At the end of class, he was almost the last to leave, given that he had woken up from napping the entire class. Rather than seeing the empty room he was used to waking up in, he saw you again in front of him, holding a blue bag. 

“Here. Eat well okay?” You left the bag onto his desk and walked out again before he could respond. He stuffed the bag into his backpack and went towards the lunch room he was used to meeting his friends in. 

“Jay’s late and beat up. What a surprise.” Sunoo’s snarky comment doesn’t catch him off guard, and instead pulls out the blue bag from his backpack and rests it on the table. 

“Oh? Jay brought lunch? Quick, let’s rate his cooking skills.” Before Jay can react, Heeseung had already snatched it from the table, pulling out a Tupperware with a sticky note on top. 

“Who’s y/n? And why did she call you a loser?” Heeseung asks, opening the container to a bento box. 

“No one, now give it back.” Jay takes back the container, almost admiring the contents inside. 

It was the first time his heart began to take notice of you. 

----- 

Everyone was quickly suspicious about Jay’s relationship with you. It all started with him publicly going to you and thanking you for the food. Then it was the constant good mornings when you would welcome him at the beginning of class. Then it was the morning coffee, and walking you to class in the morning. He was practically stuck to you when he wasn’t with his friends. 

“You know, I think Jay likes you.” One of your friends mentioned casually, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Stop taking those rumors too seriously, he’s just paying back a favor.”

Yet, your friends weren’t the only ones who were beginning to notice. Most noticeably, Jay’s very own friends. 

“Sunghoon, I don’t like her, so can you shut up?” Jay, almost irritated by the constant confusion of emotions. 

“So, you wouldn’t mind her being so close with Sunoo?” Jake points at your direction. You laughing and trying to hold yourself together while punching Sunoo in the arm. 

“No. Of course not." Yet, he still finds himself burning holes into Sunoo's skull as he sees you wrap an arm around his neck to pull him into a head lock.

It seemed as if that was the last straw because in the next moment, Sunghoon was attempting to prevent Jay's next big mess.

"Get your hands off him." Jay commands, catching not only your attention, but those around him as well.

"Relax Jay, she's just playing around." Sunoo gets himself out of the head lock, and looks at your face who's been cleared of any laughter.

"I'll see you later Sunoo." You can't even look at Jay in the eyes before walking off with another friend.

"What's wrong with you? You know she wasn't hurting me!"

"Don't talk to me right now Sunoo." Jay storms off in the opposite direction while Sunoo turns his head to the side at Sunghoon.

"Am I going to die?"

"Not yet anyway. I think if you stay off y/n, maybe it'll extend your life line." Sunghoon states honestly.

"What do you think would happen if I told him she's my cousin?"

"I don't know but I've never seen Jay so..like this. Its a good look on him."

However, Jay is his full fledged rage, begins to shove everyone in his way including a poor freshman who happens to fall in front of your locker.

"Jay what the fuck!? Are you okay?" You crouch down and reach your hand out, giving Jay a bitter feeling.

"Is this how you catch men? You pretend to be the good guy?"

"Excuse me?" You repeat, shocked at Jay's sudden attitude.

"Nevermind just stay away from me? Got it?" You don't even process the words before he dashes off, ignoring his friends who are attempting to catch his attention.

"Sunghoon, what's his issue ?" Sunghoon only let's out a heavy sigh before shrugging his shoulders.

"It's not my business, but I can assure you that anger won't end well."

-----

And it just so happens that Sunghoon's response was quiet accurate considering Jay's familiar situation. He's been long enough member of his gang to know what territories they're not exactly welcomed.

Yet, he doesn't care and does so anyway because anything is better than having to imagine you with some one else.

"Haven't seen you in a while Jay, must have been busy hmm." The leader mocks him, but it only infuriates the pent up anger within him causing him to land a punch at his gut.

"Don't test me." And as if history repeats itself, he finds himself once more cornered in the back of an alley way. With the collection of bruises forming on his stomach, one could tell he was a kick or two away from a good surgery.

"Jay! Stop!" He curses himself mentally when he watches you run towards him.

"You better leave pretty one...I mean unless..." He approaches you, reaching for your chin to tilt it sidewards, leading to Jay using his last strength to push him off you.

"Don't touch her." Jay grits his teeth, earning a smirk that quickly turns into a frown at hearing the sound of police sirens.

"You got lucky this time." He flees the scene leaving you again with a bloodied up Jay.

"You promised me to not fight anymore!" Jay chooses to ignore you and limps away to a nearby post.

"And I told you to stay away from me y/n. I don't need people like you to worry about me because they pity me" He responds.

"How am I not supposed to worry when you left so suddenly? One moment we're good and the next you're mad at Sunoo and everyone?" You place him on the stair case while getting your first aid kit ready.

"How am I supposed to stay away when you worry me? Do you have any idea how fast I ran here with this when Jake told me you weren't at your house?" You continue to apply a bit of alcohol on his open cuts.

"I'm sorry, I was upset. I saw you with Sunoo earlier and I don't know what came over me. Sunoo is so darn perfect, and what about me? I was afraid you'd leave me." Jay mumbles the last part quietly, but you manage to hear it well.

Without much hesitancy, you press a light kiss onto his bruised and swollen lips. He gasps slightly but manages to wrap his arms around your waist.

"I'm not leaving okay, I'm here to stay if you want me to." Jay grabs you and pulls you in for a hug, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

"Please stay." He mumbles, letting his grip on you get stronger. He stays there for a while, before looking at the blue bag in your hand.

"What's this?"

"I brought some dinner because I figured you would be too lazy to do it yourself and end up eating frozen nuggets again." He smiles slightly before admiring your features.

"I really like you y/n.." Jay confesses, still in the position of hugging you.

"I like you too Jay...I really do." A grin forms on his face and he drops another kiss on your cheek before leading the way out.

Perhaps Jay wasn't exactly perfect, but you always knew he was more than ready to love and learn by your side.

------

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts haha, but I figured we could all use a little fluff with everything going on :( <3

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding XIV

Part I - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  Part XI - - - - Part XII - - - - Part XIII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Plo Koon woke to find himself chained in a dark room.

Somewhere behind him he could hear steady dripping; it was uncertain if that was deliberate or not.

He strained to discern anything in the dim light, but the walls of his prison refused to form into anything recognizable.

Cautiously, the trapped Master cast his senses out, only to find them reflected back at odd angles. He decided to wait before attempting to push any further past what his captor wished him to see.

Time passed strangely, but sooner than expected there was the sound of a pressurized airlock opening and, distantly, a raging ocean.

The airlock cycled through its rotation and Obi-Wan Kenobi stepped out of the amorphous shadows looking...decidedly worse for the wear. 

Plo ached at the sight. His normally carefully maintained beard was a scraggly mess. His robes hung tattered and bloodied. Of particular concern was how dry he looked, skin cracked and bleeding for want of water. The figure standing before him with a dead-eyed glare resembled less an accomplished Jedi Master and more the wretched husk of one. 

“Who are you?”  Obi-Wan's shade hissed. The chains around the Kel Dooran tightened. 

Well, however he might view himself and others...at least he’s willing to fight to defend what remains? At the bare minimum he’s not acting intentionally self destructive...

“Good Morning, Obi-Wan. I am a Jedi Master and your friend. I have been attempting to reach you through your rather impressive shielding. I must say, you’ve done a remarkable job confining me in this mental construct, its been sometime since anyone has managed to get the best of me in this arena.”

Obi-Wan snorted. “Don’t try and flatter me, you barely fought back. You could easily have forced your way anywhere, but for some reason you let me corral you, presumably to try and gain my trust. Now answer my question. Your presence is very much light so I doubt you’re Sidious or...Vader. I could be wrong obviously, but i can’t see either of themselves putting this much effort into that sort of mask...just tell me who you are, and why you’re with them.”

“I am Master Plo Koon, a High Council Member, and I am not unknown to you” he elaborated without hesitation. “I am glad that you can identify that I am a light force user. Can you not sense familiarity within my force presence, even so far within your domain?”

Obi-Wan reared back and the dripping noise in the corner stopped.

“It’s a trick. We might be in my head but that doesn’t mean I’m surrendering any of my thoughts to you,” Obi-Wan snarled. “I felt Plo Koon’s death, he was one of the first...and even if he somehow survived he would never work with the Sith to invade my mind. Never.”

“Obi-Wan. Listen to me. Please. I am not dead. I am not working with the Sith. I was brought in to reach you because no other method was working. You are in the healing halls at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.” Plo spoke calmly, but implacably, “We believe you have either experienced a uniquely detailed vision, or a run in with a dark-sider. Whatever has happened, I can feel the lingering impression of unsafety. But here and now, you are not in any immediate physical danger. There must be something I can do to convince you of your present physical location.”

“A uniquely detailed vision, huh? ha!” Obi-Wan replied, gesturing wildly. “Ha! You expect me to believe that what, the last four years of my life were a detailed prophecy? Why?”

“You...believe you have lived years beyond the rest of us. I take it the- what you remember has been dangerous enough to warrant maintaining abnormally tight control over your mental walls, precluding simply reaching out to ascertain the truth yourself.”

“Clearly my control wasn’t enough if you’re in here.” Obi-Wan muttered.

“I do apologize for the intrusion, but we’ve already used every other tool at our disposal to reach you. I repeat, is there anything that can be done to convince you that you are, from your perspective, ‘in the past’. You are a High Council member with a grandpadawan. It’s been two years since the start of the clone wars. You recently finished an extended clean up of the Mon Cala sector after your victory.”

Obi-Wan stared at him curiously. “If I set a test and you fail, will you agree to dispense with the pretenses?”

Plo-Koon hesitated. “Perhaps I’m making this deal in bad faith, as I am know I am Plo-Koon, and that everything I have said is the truth... but I swear that if you somehow prove that neither of those things are true and I am secretly working for a sith lord, I will...reveal that.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Best I’m going to get, I suppose.”

The chains holding Plo-Koon loosened. Before he could respond, there was a hurtling rising sensation that he struggled not to fight against. After a disorienting moment, he found himself in his own body, feeling vaguely seasick. Obi-Wan blinked awake, apparently unfazed by the precautionary bonds holding him in place. Master Aerdo’s gaze flicked between them intensely. Plo-Koon held up a clawed hand to forestall any interruption while the two gained their bearings.

Obi-Wan spoke first:

“Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation”

“...What?” Koon replied, honestly confused.

“Cihynglo was a renowned Kashykian Jedi, her mediations are, well i suppose were considered a quintessential example of High Republic cosmic poetry.”

“I’m familiar with Cihynglo- my master used to speak of her fondly.” Plo Koon said slowly. “Though I can’t say I’m familiar with her Fourth Mediation.”

“Hmm. Yes, well her poetry in the last few decades of her life got increasingly, well, esoteric. While most of her work was widely translated and distributed, she requested that those who wished to read her fourth Meditations do so in person, so as to experience without dilution the full calligraphy and artwork that accompanied her words. She only ever produced two copies. Any guesses where they were kept?”

Obi-Wan’s voice started out in the steady tones of a born lecturer, only to grow bitter towards the end.

“Is one in the temple?” Master Koon asked.

“Yes, one was held in the Master’s wing of the temple archives. The other was housed in a place of honor in The White Forest’s Great Tree of Knowledge. Considering both libraries were reduced to ash in the first month of the Empire, it is quite impossible, even for the Emperor, to find a copy.” 

His vague attempt at a smirk quickly fell flat. 

“I was privileged enough to be granted time to begin reading it once, but, alas, an emergency situation in the intergalactic war you created meant that I had to run off mid-sonnet. Bring me that book, let me hold it, read it, and I will believe that I somehow unlocked the secret of time-travel while overdosing on Spice.” 

Obi-Wan paused, catching his breath. “In the next fifteen minutes, please. Any more than that and you might try tracking down the few surviving Wookie scholars.” Koon flipped open his comm. “Master Nu, I have an urgent request.”

“Nu here, go on,” came the response.

“This may sound strange, but it is crucial that Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation be brought to the healing halls, room seven. Within the next 15 minutes.”

“You do understand you’re talking about a physical book, not a flimsi-stack or a holocron. It’s not meant to leave a climate-controlled room.”

“I promise you, I would not ask if it weren’t life or death. Please Jocasta, I’ll explain later.”

“I’ll be there in 10. It had better be one durned good explanation.”

Obi-Wan looked bemused. ”You’re setting yourself up for failure.”

“I am glad you were able to come up with a test you found meaningful. Remember, you have friends here, regardless of whether you experienced subjective time travel or an incredibly detailed vision.”

They waited a little longer. Obi-Wan critically examined Master Aerdo.

“I’m a Senior Soul Healer” they offered at the non-verbal prompting.

“How interesting.” Obi-Wan remarked dryly.

They sat in awkward silence for another minute. 

They were all equally trained in suppressing fidgets, coughs, or other nervous tics, which made the wait that slightest bit more unbearable, each second nearly imperceptible from the one before.

Eventually the sound of heavy boots moving at speed approached.

Master Nu strode in, gently cradling a great burden. The book gleamed large and vital in the light of its stasis wrap. Her eyes widened at they took in Obi-Wan, still cuffed to the bed. 

“Cihynglo’s Fourth Meditation, as asked for. I trust you have an excellent explanation for how a book of poetry is a matter of life or death.”

“I’m hoping that it will convince our friend Master Kenobi that I am who I claim to be and we are where I claim we are.” Koon gently pulled the book from her grasp and reverently placed it on Obi-Wan’s lap. Obi-Wan stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“Obi-Wan, I’m going to uncuff you now. I trust that you will use your freedom to examine our ‘proof.’ We will physically intercede if you make any attempts at self harm.”

Master Nu gasped. “Then the temple rumors...I don’t understand.”

Obi Wan picked up the book as if he was afraid it might bite him. With an irritated snort, he opened brusquely to the middle, and began carelessly flipping ahead.

Master Nu started forward, offended, but Plo Koon held her back. “Please Master Nu, patience-”

Finally Obi-Wan seemed to reach the page he was looking for and stopped. “..And still the rain fell like blood of the womb” he murmured. “That...I tried to think of how the line ended but I...”

Everyone watched as the book shook in Obi-Wan's grasp. He turned the page, gasping slightly and murmuring as he read. “This is...a little gross, but oddly touching. I certainly would not have come up with it myself...but its so clearly...” They watched his react, eyes darting wildly and brow furrowing in confusion.

Several pages later he dropped the book abruptly.

“This is impossible,” he gasped.

Nu darted forward, carefully snatching it from his lap, "I am endeavoring to practice tolerance, but how is destroying an irreplaceable piece of literature supposed to help anyone?!” she snapped

“I admit I wondered that myself, but when I imagined what harm the Sith could do with some of the archive’s more practical works, I understood your decision to torch the collection” Obi-Wan responded dreamily. “I suppose the more beautific works would likely have been destroyed anyway...”

“Torch the archives? I would never.”

“But you did,” Obi-Wan insisted feverishly. “I found your message when we searching for survivors. There were so many bodies piled at the archive door that I was almost hopeful that they had managed to...but I suppose they held out just long enough for you to complete your task.”

Nu backed away slowly. “That sounds like quite the disturbing vision, Master Kenobi.”

“It wasn’t just a vision, it was my life. It-visions don’t last years!” he said, finally growing hysterical. “I remember everything! That gods-awful mission to Cato Nemodia! Getting takeout food with Anakin! The smell of burning flesh in the creche! Singing to Luke! The last year of the war! All of you! You crying after Dooku’s death,” he added gesturing wildly at the archivist. “It was so awkward! You were embarrassed! You told me that for some stupid reason you had ‘held out hope’ it was all an insane uncover mission, that he wasn’t really- Three years alone in the desert! I remember three years of living on fucking Tatooine, how could that possibly be a vision!”

“I...hadn’t told anyone that,” Nu whispered with a hint of alarm. She glanced at Plo Koon, daring him to comment. “I know its very much unlikely at this point, and by any measure, he’s taken things too far, but he’s gone on such long shadow missions in the past...” she looked away.

“Oh, Jocasta...” Plo sighed.

“Master Kenobi. I cannot explain how you came to have such detailed knowledge of the future,” Aerdo said, drawing focus back to the bewildered Obi-Wan, who had shifted into a defensive crouch on the bed. “But I do know one reasonably sure fire way to establish that this, us, is the present. Open yourself up to the force, please, just let yourself listen to what it has to say.

“I...want to, of course I want to believe- but the idea that I’m here- it’s, if you’re real than you can’t possibly understand, its too good to be true.” Obi-Wan responded brokenly.

“I know things have been clouded of late, but, if nothing else trust in the force to not lie to you.” Plo-Koon urged. “If you keep closing yourself off like this, how can you possibly learn if things are better than you think”

Obi-Wan collapsed from his crouch, knees folding underneath.

“If I am...even if I am in the past... Sideous might be watching...i didn’t- i don’t know the extent of his gaze- even if...” he trailed off.

“If it makes you feel safer, you are of course free to again raise your shields to whatever extent you feel necessary once you have verified your reality.” Aerdo replied smoothly.

Obi-Wan looked warily at the three Jedi in the room.“I...” he started, trying to articulate the swelling hope and fear only to find himself at a loss for words.

Aerdo shot him a reassuring smile, “If you don’t feel ready right now, that’s perfectly understandable. We’re very happy you’re willing to reach out as much as you have already. Would you like to pause this discussion for now so we can find you something to eat? I believe a simple broth is a customary first post-bacta meal, but if you have any special requests I’ll do what I can.”

Obi-Wan let out a deep breath, dropping his head into his hands. “I- I need to know, don’t I?” he mumbled. “Force help me...you win.” He took one last, searching look at the faces of his fellow Jedi before closing his eyes and surrendering himself to the force.

He opened a small hole in his mental barricades and tentatively allowed his thoughts to drip out. Tentatively, he trickled over the bank of Plo Koon’s being (expecting a frigid burn) only to find a warm and heartbreakingly familiar pool of tempered kindness. 

He ran, slightly faster now, over the other Jedi presences in the room. Having finished his course without encountering any dark undertow, he ebbed back. There was an indistinct impression of something heavy giving way.

Obi-Wan’s Shields Fell Like A Dam Beneath a Tidal Wave -

[johnsamericano]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 16:

ℓєє נєиσ

23 days of NCT masterlist.

taglist: @notbeforelong @whathamelon @mrcarbonatedmilk @curieouscapt @unknown5tar @gjheaaa @ajhdr @silent-potato

warnings: oral (male receiving), jealous Jeno, mentions of drunk sex, Jeno in those tight pants skaters wear 😭

“Watcha looking at?”

Jeno jolted, his eyes abandoning the pair of skaters practicing in the ice-rink. Just as he stopped watching, he heard a loud thud. You were laying down on your back, your partner sprinting towards your giggly figure.

“Are you alright?” He helped you up, his hand holding your waist naturally. “Stop laughing, you could’ve gotten yourself hurt.”

“I’ve fallen so many times that it doesn’t even hurt anymore, Jaems.” Jeno’s blood boiled at the name. You wouldn’t even call him by his name, while your partner had the privilege of having his very own nickname. “Let’s practice the death spiral.”

Jeno’s partner looked at him with curiosity, she’d never seen that look in his face before.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning on switching partners.” Jeno shook his head, tearing his gaze off You to finish tying his skates.

“Never, I was just studying our competition.” Right after finishing his task, he extended his hand towards his friend. “We need to practice hard, we’re only a few days away from the competition.”

You didn’t even spare him a glance as they entered the rink, too focused on finding the perfect way to hold Jaemin’s hand.

“Okay, we’ve got this.” You high fived him, getting in position to start your routine all over again. “Hey, Lee! Quit staring at us.” Apparently, you had taken notice of his gaze.

“I wasn’t!” The slight blush in his cheeks said otherwise. “Ignore them, Irene.”

As much as Jeno considered training with you in the same rink a blessing, you seemed to despise him. Maybe it was because of that time he called you untalented when he was a teen, or maybe it was because of that time he left the morning after having drunk sex with you, but who knows.

Nationals were held a couple of days later. Thankfully, you didn’t have to travel anywhere this year.

You cheerfully greeted all of the people you’d met during the past competitions, wishing them luck as Jaemin called you out to get ready.

You dressed in the beautiful black dress with small diamonds around your sleeves, Jaemin wearing a matching outfit, the tight shirt making his chest and shoulders look broader. You were both provided with a thick coat to cover you from the ice rink’s cold.

“You ready?” You went out of the dressing rooms, holding his hand tightly.

“We’re gonna do amazing.”

As you waited for another pair to finish their routine, a handsome Lee Jeno approached you.

“Ready to lose?” You scoffed, looking at him in disbelief. “What? There’s no way you’re gonna win against us.”

“May I remind you who won a golden medal last year?” Now it was his turn to scoff, both of your partners looking at the scene unfolding with curiosity.

“Wanna bet?” His face inched closer to your own, breath fanning against your slightly flushed cheeks.

“Deal. If I win, you’ll have to treat me and Jaems dinner.” That damn nickname again.

“Fine, but if I win, you’ll call me Jeno from now on.” It wasn't the deal he'd originally thought of, but the sudden mention of your partner made his blood boil with resentment.

You stared at him, squinting your eyes.

“Fine.” You finally replied as your name was being called through the speakers. “Break a leg.”

You threw your coat at him before entering the ice with Jaemin holding your hand, the crowd cheering loudly for the country's favorite pair. You skated around, warming up your legs as you waited for your music to get started. You stopped at the middle of the rink, placing your hand behind the nape of Jaemin’s neck to start your routine.

The melancholic sound of violins filled the place, your legs moving backward as you started your well-practiced routine.

Jeno watched everything from outside as Jaemin lifted you between his arms, holding your waist tightly as you looked at each other with passion, almost as if thousands of people weren't surrounding you, as if you were the only ones in the room.

Jaemin threw you in the air, your body rotating a few times before you landed in his arms again.

Your routine was filled with emotions, each movement expertly performed, the crowd bursting into cheers as the end of your song approached. You both nailed a triple axel, perfectly synchronized. Jaemin grabbed a hold of your hand, your back slowly bending as he spun your body around, forming the infamous death spiral. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as Jaemin carried you once again, arm between your thighs as he gave a final spin to end your performance. You smiled at each other, proud of your nearly excellent performance.

You skated out of the rink, grabbing a few flowers the crowd had thrown at you. Your trainers waited for you, seating in a bench where you'd receive your final score.

Jeno’s piercing gaze could easily be disguised as a normal competitor's jealousy, but deep down, he knew that wasn't it. He wanted to be the one by your side, he wanted to hold your hand just like Jaemin did. He wanted you to smile at him the way you did with your partner.

As expected, Jeno lost the bet. He was frustrated, to say the least, not only because he didn't get the highest score, but because every single reporter that interviewed the golden medal winners would ask about their relationship.

‘They’re not together.’ Jeno wanted to tell them, but he knew you could handle the situation yourself, telling the reporters you were only friends.

“Just ask her out already.” Irene sat down on a bench beside him, the silver medal hanging from her neck.

“What?”

“Jeno, everyone knows you're head over heels for her. You're not exactly discreet.”

“I really don't want to think about that now.” Irene hummed, staring at Jeno while he closed his eyes, attempting to ease his turbulent mind.

It wasn't until he heard the sound of steps coming his way that he opened them again, his orbs going wide at the sight of you.

“You did amazing today.” Well, that was unexpected.

“Are you mocking me?”

“What? No!” You were suddenly regretted trying to lift his spirits. “Your routine was amazing, Jeno.”

You called him by his name. A small laugh couldn't be helped as his face turned bright red.

“Come, I have a consolation prize for you.” You extended your hand his way, your pretty fingers making a ‘come here’ motion.

“Why are you suddenly being nice to me?” He hesitantly took your hand, letting you drag him all the way to the dressing rooms, away from the curious eyes of reporters.

You didn't answer his question, instead, locking the door behind you. He gave you a puzzled look, his thick eyebrows joining in a small frown.

“I heard you talking to Irene.” You shyly confessed, playing with the hem of your black skirt. “How old are you? 10? Why didn't you just tell me instead of acting like an ass?”

“Okay, first, I acted like an ass once, and I was twelve, what were you even expecting?” He took a step closer to you, hands almost over your waist. “And second, I thought you hated me, why would I confess to someone who clearly doesn't like me?”

“Why would you assume I hate you?”

“You don't?”

“I mean, I don't even know you that well. We've trained together for years but we've barely spoken, except for that time we slept together after drinking.” The distance between your bodies was now null, chests pressing against each other. “But I would've definitely accepted if you’d asked me out. I kinda like that bad boy vibe you give.”

A smile creeped up his lips, hands settling right above the curve of your ass.

“You said you had a consolation prize for me.” You cocked an eyebrow, noticing how the atmosphere had changed in less than a second.

“Oh, really?” Your hands teased the back of his thighs, slightly tugging at the flexible material of his pants.

“Lately I’ve been having trouble remembering that night we shared a year ago, mind helping me freshen up my memory?”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t left the morning after, you wouldn’t have to be reminded, cause it would be a daily thing.” There was a pinch of resentment in your voice as you pulled his pants down, sinking into your knees to caress his growing bulge.

“Don’t tease.” He warned, grabbing a hold of your hair and slightly pulling it back. “I was scared...” he resumed your previous conversation. “Irene and I don’t have the best chemistry, unlike you and that friend of yours, so I feared not being able to skate with her anymore, I didn’t want to lose that small spark that makes us worthy of a medal, even if it’s just silver.”

“But still, you didn’t have to leave me hungover and confused in a hotel room. That was mean.” Jeno chuckled, breath hitching as you pulled out his length from the black boxers.

“I promise to make it up to you...shit.” He groaned as you flattened your tongue against his tip, the pressure driving him insane.

“You better.” You fitted as much as you could inside your mouth, massaging the rest of it with your hands as you bobbed your head.

Jeno could feel himself growing harder inside your wet cavern, length twitching at the feeling of your tongue swirling around it.

“You’re going to be the death of me.” Slowly, his hips started moving back and forth, matching the pace of your head which was now controlled by his hand. “That’s it, I’m close.” His low grunts and moans had your core aching, clenching around nothing in an attempt to relive it. “Just a couple more hours and I’ll take you back to my apartment. I can’t wait to have that pretty cunt around me.” You whimpered, sending vibrations down his cock and causing his cum to spill inside your mouth. The salty liquid painted the back of your throat, involuntarily making you swallow it. “Come on, the reporters must be waiting for you.” With both hands below your elbows, he helped you up, pulling his pants back up before leaving the room with you following closely.

“There You are!” Jaemin spotted you, Jeno immediately running away to avoid rising any suspicions. “What were you doing in that dressing room with our enemy?” He dramatically gasped. “Am I being replaced? Hold me, I might faint.”

“Stop it, you drama queen. We were just...talking.”

“Mhm.” He grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers and shooting a glance at Jeno. His deep frown made Jaemin smile. “Oh, and y/n?” You looked at him. “Wipe that drool off your chin, darling.”

[youarejesting]

Sea [1/2]

Beta: @lillielil @aroseforyoongi​ @seokjinssymphony​ @kpooplifeforever​ @explosiveranga​​ & my good friend Z (let me know if I left anyone out.) Rating: 17+ Pairing: Idol!Yoongi x Reader Genre: Action, Adventure, Angst, Fluff, Comedy, slow burn, slice of life. Words: 6.8k

Summary: After your plane to Korea takes an unexpected detour, you are stranded with someone you aren’t even sure speaks English. As the race begins to stay alive, emotions run high and tempers short. The unlikely contender in the survival race is love which snuck up on you both.

The thought of a thirteen-hour flight didn't bring you much joy. Why would it? Being trapped in a small box with wings, not to mention being stuck in said box with multiple people breathing recycled farts and eating some sort of wet styrofoam they called food that would most definitely give you food poisoning. Oh yes, what a joy it would be to be in a seat for hours on end, letting your skin slowly dry up. 

Arriving at the terminal, you stood waiting for them to start boarding. You would have been sitting if there was a single seat free. Seriously, some asshole had even dared to lay across no less than five and a half seats, his bag resting on the empty chair at the end. 

He was wearing all black and looked comfortable in his jeans and hoodie. His black cap pulled down over his eyes and you could see the bleached blonde hair sticking out from underneath. Big chunky headphones on his ears made it possible for this man to drown out the world around him.

You glared at his legs, growing tired, knowing that within a few hours you would be begging for the chance to stand up. If you were to take a mental count, there hadn’t been any nice experiences you could recall in regards to traveling on a plane.

Did that reflect the quality of service or your standard of air travel? No. Obviously, your standards were realistic, not expecting the flight time any shorter or the staff to give a foot massage or anything outrageous. 

You really didn't want any extra luxuries other than what was offered in the pamphlet — and yes, that meant you chose first-class — because if you were to suffer, you would do so in the best environment.

Unfortunately, the reality of it was that there was no better or more comfortable way to travel. Checking in, you would be boarding first before the other passengers, not really a privilege. However you got in line anyway behind the young man who had previously been lounging across the airport seats. He was holding up the line having lost his passport and you were getting more and more pissed. 

You were simply just having a bad day. 

A woman behind you started openly arguing, exclaiming that this man was not allowed to ride first class as he clearly wasn’t fit for it. Bringing up his style of dress and the headphones around his neck. You turned, glaring daggers at the woman until she became silent. 

Society taught people to judge based on appearance, that everyone fit into a category, never mind the old adage to ‘never judge a book based on it’s cover’. Stil, you were always respectful and treated others equally, maybe even getting to know a person that you wouldn’t in other circumstances. It always surprised you how much you enjoyed taking a risk and getting to know them.

Once you showed your ticket and passport, you traveled down the long hall towards the plane. You saw the man in front of you talking with another man. He seemed to respect him and was reading him a schedule from his phone. You raised your eyebrows and smiled at the young stewardess who welcomed you on board. Her hair was pristine in a tight bun and her crisp, dark blue outfit was paired with a red scarf.

Stepping over the small gap, you felt the cold of the air conditioning, yet the air still felt thick. There were three places you could go to feel this type of cold: the dentist, an airplane, or the movies. First class was spacious with only a single cubicle on either side of the aisle. You took your seat. It was like personal rooms where you could close a sliding screen for more privacy, even though you were sitting next to someone, you wouldn't be able to see them at all.

The seats were more like arm chairs that one could lay back completely in, made with a brilliant blue leather. The cubicle room was complemented in a similar shade but with red features. You had a tv and a tiny minibar that had a small selection of drinks and snacks.

The flight attendants took all the passengers through the safety instructions. You could practically write them at this point. However they added a few things you had never heard. You had never heard such in-depth instructions going beyond the general life jackets, floatation devices, and first aid kits. 

Never before had they told you about the airbags that would be deployed if you crash in the ocean. Apparently the emergency escape slides doubled as floatation devices and could hold up to one hundred and thirty people comfortably. They even explained how they detach these rafts from the fuselage and that they have ropes that allow them to be tied off to each other or the airframe. 

Distracted by a tired male sighing beside you, you wondered who would fall asleep during the safety messages. Sure they were boring, but even you pretended to care. When you turned to see the culprit, he was disappearing behind the plastic divider of his cubicle dragged by his long pale fingers.

Well, at least you had some privacy. It was something you were thankful for, you wanted to get comfortable, or as comfortable as you could.

Perhaps these new instructions and information were deemed irrelevant to domestic flights. Or perhaps it was for the very enthusiastic kid they led through the first class discussing more of the plane's anatomy. “What if a wing falls off?”

“The plane is really sturdy, the wing wouldn’t just fall off” She grinned, “Let’s see what the pilot is doing and we can get your mum a picture wearing the captain's hat!” 

After the flight attendants thanked everyone for listening, the plane took to the sky. You closed up all sides of your cubicle and requested to be only woken for meals. The stewardess was very diligent and for that you were grateful. 

The journey was nearing the six hour mark and all that one could see was clouds and the ocean. The collection of empty water bottles were a poignant reminder to relieve your bladder. 

You stood up and waddled determined to go to the bathroom. It was inconvenient to drink so much water but you didn't want to get dehydrated. 

Feeling much better, you took a few minutes to look in the mirror and moisturise as your skin was feeling particularly dry already. Startled from your self care routine by a light rapping on the door, you packed up your things and pulled open the door. Unfortunately, at that moment, the plane shook.

It was like something from a romance novel, the way you fell against him and yet, there was nothing elegant or poetic in the way you fell against him.

Your face slammed into his chest and his head hit the wall with a heavy thud. "Sorry, I'm sorry"

"Shibal" he said, his language was something unlike you have ever heard, it was rhythmic and sounded like a song. His voice was so low and rumbly it almost sounded like he was purring. 

You weren’t well versed in other languages or cultures, so you didn’t know what he was saying. This was your first time leaving your country. If it wasn’t for the damn holiday raffle at work, you wouldn’t have even left your house. Every other flight you had ever been on was domestic and therefore your suffering was short lived, but this flight was long and you were getting rather bored. It seemed your mind was reeling trying to absorb all that it could and currently that meant the poor man you had body slammed into the wall was under your perusal.

His body was thin unlike yours which was curvaceous. His hair was dark and shaggy making his pale skin almost ghostly. He had sharp cat-like eyes that were quite intimidating as they glared at you and his small downturned lips were yet to speak. He seemed like a man of few words. All this coldness was juxtaposed by his cute round nose. You could tell from his features that he was from Asia, but you couldn't pinpoint where.

Grabbing your shoulders, he started to push you off of him, when the plane shook again and you both fell back into the small bathroom. Your back hit the toilet, and a searing pain bloomed from the impact causing your body to lock up as it radiated through you.

The seat belt light came on. You both scrambled to your feet bumping into the walls, sink and each other from the unstable winds shaking the plane. Struggling back to your seats when the cabin pressure changed. There was a creaking sound and the plane started shaking. You immediately felt a sick sense of dread. The pilot spoke calmly about turbulence and requested everyone return to their seats. But the pair of you couldn't move down the aisle to your seats.

There was a sound like a car backfiring and someone from economy class shouted about the wing being on fire. Your grip on the young man's coat tightened and a terrifying sound like metal groaning filled the cabin. That didn’t sound like regular turbulence, you were sure of that.

Sharing a horrified look with the young man, you got up the courage to try to push off from the wall. Unsuccessful, you were once more pressed against the wall. The plane was plummeting. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the emergency box. What was this emergency and what in that box could fix this situation?

"You need to return to your seats,” the stewardess said. The smell of smoke was strong and it filled the inside of the plane quickly. You hadn’t even seen the stewardess trying to climb through the plane. Her grip strained on the walls and seats as she fought against the force pushing her back. “We are making an emergency landing." 

The metal sound was louder. Shrieking like nails on a chalkboard, it pierced through the cabin. You watched as the side of the plane ripped completely off with the ease of someone removing the plastic off a new fridge. There was a feeling of being weightless before a drop on a roller coaster, and then it was like your stomach was left behind. The stewardess was sucked out from the cabin behind you. 

You and the young Asian man were sliding backwards down the aisle trying to find something to grab onto. The floor in first class was some sort of linoleum and gave you a nasty burn as you slid. It was like fire against your skin. As the pilot fought with the plane, you practically bounced off every seat. 

It felt like you were weightless for a brief moment as you were lifted off the ground, your back hit the roof before you smacked the floor again. All the wind had been knocked out of you. 

The pilots were fighting against the drop, so in the moment of calm before the plummet, you grabbed the leg of an economy class seat as it was bolted to the ground. You looked at the young man, watching the panic as he realized he was too far away to hold on and dangerously close to the large opening. He began slipping out of the plane, his hands flailing before clamping around your ankle. The two of you were almost hanging outside the plane. 

Everyone in economy class was panicking and wearing oxygen masks. No wonder you couldn’t breathe. Gasping for breath, you cursed yourself for liking all those action movies that made this look easy. 

“Hold on!” You all but screamed more to yourself than the poor guy holding your leg. He was being completely battered by the wind. You felt his hands slipping and you reached down with one hand to grab his wrist and he grabbed yours. He looked thankful.

“Shibal,” he groaned, his voice straining. Your body was being stretched. The cold metal was unforgiving, and it tore apart the skin on your palm. Your eyes were watering in protest to the wind and smoke that was drying them out.

The drink trolley that the stewardesses had been moving through the aisles had gotten loose and went flying down the plane. It hit an old man in the back of the head. You knew he wouldn’t make it, and speaking of, it was headed straight for you. You watched in fear, like some horrifying game of chicken as the trolley came for you. Thankfully, it bounced on the floor inches from your hand and flew out of the plane. 

It was a mix of flinching and the force of the wind that made your hand on the chair slip. You slid further out of the plane, grabbing the exposed shell of the plane with your free hand. Your other hand desperately clutching the young man's hand watching in horror as he smacked into the side of the plane unconscious. “Shit!” 

His body was limp and you had to do something. With all the strength you had, you tried to pull his flailing form closer to protect him. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the ocean quickly advancing. You were going to hit the water.

The breeze pressing against you was fierce. Your eyes were dry, making you think of your eyedrops in your carry-on luggage. You could see the water coming up quicker now; you tried to gauge what would be a survivable height. Knowing you had a higher chance of surviving freediving as opposed to hanging halfway from the plane, where you would both slam head first into the plane. You decided to take the leap.

Screaming in absolute terror as you watched the fast approaching water, you let go just in time. It was equivalent to a few stories on a building from the ground. Wrapping him in your arms, you pointed yourselves down deciding to break the fall. Lifting your free hand above your head like you were doing a high dive, you hit the water. It was such a shock, the liquid was so cold it caused your muscles to lock up.

Your adrenaline was pumping, and one of your arms felt numb and unresponsive. You swam oddly to the surface, gasping when you felt the air on your skin. He was unconscious, and you held his face out of the water.

The plane wasn't too far away and for now was on the surface of the water. The emergency exit inflatable slide, which doubled as a raft, had been deployed but no survivors seemed to climb out.

You swam in a side stroke to keep your damaged arm and the young man's unconscious form out of the water. You hoped he was going to be okay. The only thought in your head was making it to the raft and you were doing everything in your power to get there, even contemplating leaving him behind. But you weren't going to give up, a part of you wanted to prove you could do it.

Reaching the raft felt euphoric. Taking a deep breath you pushed him into the raft. Doing a quick check of his head and body, you noticed he was breathing oddly. You turned him on his side and tried to clear his airway. A little bit of water trickled out before you performed CPR.  Your saving grace came when he coughed and spluttered, placing him in the recovery position and hoping he would be okay on his own for a moment. You looked around for any more survivors. There was luggage floating around, and you picked up all you could from the water. 

Walking along the inflatable back into the plane, the water was not as high in first class. This was probably due to the hole in the plane in the economy. The right side being the only one of the inflatables that had inflated beside the plane. Keeping the plane precariously afloat balancing on two inflatables which had malfunctioned and inflated under the plane.

Moving quickly and wading through the icy water, you grabbed the emergency kits on the wall. You had passed by deceased passengers and tried not to look. It was eerie and unbelievable even though it had only just happened.

Bags littered the water and you guided them towards the exit and put them on the raft. You could save these people's possessions for their family, or there could be items inside that could be of use and save your life. 

You also noticed the flight attendant area and raided the cupboards as quickly as you could. You grabbed the medical kit, some slippers, a range of very thin blankets that were wet and even some snacks carrying everything back to the floatation rafts. As an afterthought you braved a second trip back into the plane to grab your and the other man’s overhead luggage as you knew he would likely appreciate it.

Finding a bunch of cell phones floating around the cabin. You grabbed them all hoping one would be waterproof. You found a few that were still turned on, but only one seemed to have some sort of signal. The plane creaked as you started making the emergency call. 

“Come on” you begged the phone to connect. The whole plane creaked again and tilted; it wouldn’t last long. You had desperately searched for survivors but there was no one obviously alive. You tried your best to check their vitals, but time was running out. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be cursed for pronouncing everyone dead.

"Hello, this is an emergency service hotline?" A voice cut through the silence, you looked at the phone about to cry in relief "fire, ambulance or police"

"Hello, we were in a plane crash, my name is y/n, we were on a flight from Los Angeles to Seoul"

"What is your location?" the woman said, confused by your description.

"The ocean" you hissed "we are on a life raft"

"How many people are with you, what are their names?"

"Just one. I don't know his name. He is asian. Um really thin, um, has dark hair and—”

"You seem to be breaking up" the emergency operator said with the voice cutting out. You looked down at the phone in your hand and sighed. Of course, if everything was going wrong, a phone in the middle of the ocean apparently won’t save you. You thought to yourself, ‘it is 2021 so why isn’t service available everywhere?’ Pocketing the phone you began making your way out the plane.

You headed back to the inflatable and made the decision to cut the plane free. Scared that it would bring the raft down with it. Grabbing more luggage from the water, you thought it best not to watch the plane sink. It would only make you feel worse.

The time went by slowly. It took hours for the plane to disappear. Even though you had promised yourself not to look, you had. Taking glances as the plane slowly sank and you drifted further away. 

The moment the plane was no longer in sight, you curled up and let the tears fall. The sun began setting and the heat turned into a bitter cold. Your wrist was still quite swollen, and you decided to wrap it as you drifted along. You had been so sure that there would be something or someone to see you drifting, and you would be saved. 

However one cold night became two, and then three, only breaking for the scorching heat of the day. 

You thanked yourself for watching all those ‘lost on an island’ movies and television shows; you had learned some things along the way. You also had your father to thank for always dragging you along to the volunteer emergency services programs, ones where you learned how to survive in a forest. At the time you thought it was super lame for your friends to go to nice hotels by the beach for their holidays and you were making some sort of mealworm dish while making stick shelters.

Going over the information you had in your head, you knew water was the priority. The instructor had said humans can go three weeks without food, three days without water, three hours without shelter and three minutes without air. 

The sun would dehydrate you quickly. You had made a small shelter with luggage and blankets to protect you from the sun. 

If you didn’t find land, you were going to have to make some sort of man-made evaporation device to create water. As it was, you were slowly getting the unconscious young man to drink little amounts of bottled water, for he too needed to stay hydrated. 

The man you were with had awoken the third day. He seemed a little freaked out about being alone at sea. You explained calmly, not wanting him to do anything drastic and he sat there processing things. 

You gave him a bottle of water and something to eat. The two of you continued drifting, not speaking a word to one another. You spent most of the time trying to craft something to float on the ocean and create clean drinking water. 

(This evaporation device floats on the ocean and mimics rain by the water droplets sticking to the plastic cover over the whole device when weighted in the middle it then drips back down into a bottle. I can find a reference picture if you need. [Here] [Here] [This one is like what I made in 7th grade camp])

But you couldn’t get the water to land in the bottle and the bottle to stay upright. He was no help, just laying in the shelter out of the sun. The raft was big enough for about one hundred and thirty people. And yet, the two of you sat close by and didn’t say a word.

You were covered in sweat and felt absolutely disgusting. It was time for you to get changed. What a stupid way to die, not from dehydration, or malnourishment, or even sun exposure, but from lack of hygiene. It was decided. 

“I am getting changed, don’t look,” you breathed, opening your carry-on bag.

“I don’t want look,” he muttered back in English and turned away. You quickly put on something that covered your shoulders and tried getting some rest. You didn't want to alarm him, but you both had consumed the last of the water and food rations.

It was late that night when you heard a different sound. The raft was moving a lot more. These were big waves and a part of you hoped it was not a tsunami or whale activity.

When the sound got louder, you were reminded of the beach when waves crashed on the sand. Looking up, you saw something big approaching. It was a body of land. Suddenly, your chances of survival greatly increased, now that you had a way to get out of the water. Nervous about putting your hands in the pitch black water, you looked at your companion peacefully sleeping and made the decision to paddle slowly. Anything to increase your chances of getting to safety. You eventually washed up on the beach, arms aching and stepped out to drag the raft onto the sand.

It was late and still dark, but you had to do something. Thinking that perhaps if you found someone, you would both be saved straight away. You waited on the raft until the sky lightened, and then you got to work collecting sticks and starting a small fire. You took the empty water bottles, hoping to find a clean water source or some fresh water that you could boil.

You walked to the highest point in sight, not seeing any signs of large predatory animals was a good sign. When you reached the top, you felt a sense of satisfaction as you had overcome the many trials and tribulations. You made it through a plane crash, survived on the water, and made it to land. 

Looking around, you saw something bone-chilling. This was an island and judging by the lack of people, houses or establishments, it was uninhabited. There was no civilization to be seen. You saw the tufts of smoke from your fire and tried not to cry. You were stuck here until someone could rescue you. 

Pushing the minor breakdown aside, you thought about water, it was important. Scanning the island, there seemed to be a small waterfall and tiny lagoon at the bottom. Since the rain, the waterfall was running pretty fiercely. You mapped out a path back to the beach which would detour past the waterfall.

By the time you reached the beach, your arms were exhausted with the weight of the now filled water bottles. He was awake and briskly brushing his reddened cheeks with his sleeves, turning his back to you. Sympathising with the man who probably thought you died, fell overboard or abandoned him.

You pulled out the metal pot from the plane and began boiling the water, in an attempt to kill any bacteria in it. The tide was going out. you knew you should be thinking about food as the next priority, but you wanted to sleep. Being primarily awake for a few days was taking its toll.

It took everything in you to get yourself to move and get to work. Taking large rocks, you carried them into the water until you were knee-deep. You were building a V- shaped wall, so when the tide came in, it brought with it fish and when the tide went out, they would be trapped. 

Pouring the now cooled water into the bottles, you started thinking about your plan. First, you thought about short-term needs, in case you were rescued soon, and then long-term needs, in the event you weren’t rescued for months or perhaps years. You paused, forcing yourself to think and accept the fact that there was a chance you would never be rescued.

The Asian man had gotten up and looked around hopefully. Handing him a now clean and sterile bottle of water, you frowned looking around with him. "There is no one here." He didn't say a word, staring at you while drinking slowly.

You huffed, trying to figure out how you two could survive on an island. He watched you fuss around trying to make a shelter out of sticks but it collapsed everytime. 

“Just no,” he muttered. You tried not to openly sneer at him. Grabbing the raft, you dragged it across the sand. As the raft was built for a large group, it seemed all you were doing was digging your feet into the sand. But little by little it was dragged up the beach thanks to the tide. It took some convincing but you had gotten help from the young man. The two of you madly struggling to lift the inflatable slide to a tilt against a tree. It was still inflated so you hoped you could use it for something else if needed.

Before the tide came in that evening, you ran out to the water. Your hopes were crushed when you found no fish and saw that the wall had broken. Carrying more large rocks into the water and making the V bigger and stronger, things weren't looking great, but you were trying to do your best. Cold from splashing around in the water, you went back to the shelter, but the fire had gone out by this point. 

Looking at the young man, you let out an exasperated sigh. Did he not care for his life or yours? Contemplating while gathering more wood, you realized that you had been doing all the work, while he was just lazing around. “We need more wood, come help,” you gestured for the young man to follow, but he sneered at the thought and leaned away from you.

“I just lay uh here and wait to…” he thought over his words, slowly forming an English sentence “die or be rescue,” he mumbled. You were too exhausted to argue. It could wait until tomorrow, and you would both freeze tonight. Maybe then he would understand the importance of working together towards a goal.

You felt absolutely disgusting. hearing the loud patter of rain, you walked down the length of the shelter. On one side was the raft, and on the other was the luggage, built into a wall. You took out some clean clothes and stepped into the rain. Peeling off your seawater and sweat drenched clothes, you stood in the dark and tried washing your body with a tiny travel soap you had found in a bag. 

You scrubbed your body of sweat and turned back to the shelter. Grabbing your towel, and wrapping it around your body, you stepped inside. He was laying on the makeshift bed you had prepared. He looked over, and when he saw you just in a towel, he rolled away. It was embarrassing, you who loved privacy and comfort were showering all exposed in the rain and getting changed in the same vicinity as a stranger. That night, he took the only dry blanket, so you laid there with wet hair and damp skin, shivering. 

You were thankful for the sun rising, and it took a few minutes for you to thaw enough to move, but when you did, you deemed it time for him to do some work. The two of you gathered sticks and leaves. He barely helped, and when he got back, he laid back down and fell asleep in the shelter.

Building a fire, with the wood, took some time as it had rained the night before. The leaves helped fuel the flames. The fire didn't have to be amazing, you just needed it for warmth. You also hoped some rescue teams might even see the faint smoke.

At the sound of your stomach calling for sustenance you got up and went to check the rock wall you made and found a fish swimming in the shallow water. You grinned, carrying it back making sure to stoke the fire. You were doing your absolute best with the emergency kit knife.

You must have looked pitiful, as your companion took over, filleting the fish with ease, and he even cooked it. The two of you had fish for breakfast and you felt satiated. You took some of the supplies and got ready to set out for food and fresh water. He was dressed and trying to follow you, so you let him carry some of the empty bottles.

Except he wasn't cut out for endurance, he got winded quickly. It reminded you of the time you passed out during a school marathon. Yet you made the best of the situation that you could, walking slowly until you came across some sort of fruit that the birds were eating.

You took a couple of pieces of rotten fruit and then carefully dug up the small plant and began carrying it back. He followed you back. You placed the plant down. Using your hands you tried to shift the dirt until you had a decent hole where you could plant the little fruit tree. Watering it with some of the water you had collected from the lagoon, internally wishing the plant would flourish. It was hard pouring the fresh water on the plant but you had to if you wanted food.

You mapped out an area and put sticks in the ground in a box-shape, in hopes of starting a garden of any edible plants found throughout the island.

You took the old fruit you collected off the ground, put it around the bottom of the tree, and gave a small hopeful sigh. “Hopefully it will break down in the soil and feed the plant. Our fate is in your hands little plant”

You spent another night sleeping in the makeshift shelter and had to decide on what to do, so you sat up and turned to the young man.

"Hey, are you awake?" He sat up, his eyes narrow, "what do we build? Shelter? or a garden for food?"

He blinked before choosing "Shelter?” you giggled at his confusion, not trying to be rude. He knew more English than you knew Korean and that was definitely a feat.

“A home”

“Home, food later" he shrugged

It rained heavier, bringing with it a sense of sadness. There was no one waiting for you, no one looking for you. The tears began falling and you tried to stifle the sounds. He was still and you hoped he didn’t hear the breakdown. You hoped he was sound asleep as this seemed to be his skill. You were sadly mistaken; he wasn’t asleep. He moved and draped a blanket over you. He only drifted off when you exhausted yourself from crying.

Waking up with your back pressed to his back, the two of you had shared a few airplane blankets. Your body was aching, from sleeping on the ground. It was time to build the shelter both of you had been discussing. You needed someplace safe from the elements and a place with some sort of makeshift bed. Sand felt so soft, but was uncomfortable to sleep on.

Standing in the morning breeze, you began thinking: “How does one even build a house?” If people can make houses with only the land, then so could you. You had no excuse.if it didn’t work, you could try again until you figured it out. You knew there should be some sort of foundation. You could build between two trees, or with a big pillar in the middle, or four walls like a traditional home. Whatever you were going to do, you needed the materials, namely wood, but it’s not like you could just rip a tree out of the ground with your bare hands. You needed tools. Unfortunately, this island didn’t have a hardware store. This wasn’t like minecraft; you couldn’t just create perfect tools from nothing. Or, could you?

You got to work trying to make some sort of mock Stone Age axe. It gave you blisters, but you had successfully chopped a single tree down. Getting the hang of chopping the trees with your primitive tool, you had four trees ready on the seventh day. You dug holes in the sand, but it wasn’t holding the trunks at all. They kept toppling over. He told you it wouldn’t work, and you only huffed in response. 

You would have to dig, until you found harder ground. This took another week, but you had four tree trunks in the ground in a modest square. You had started feeling dizzy while working, and your head felt clouded. It had been raining ever since you arrived, every night and lightly throughout the day, you didn’t think you had felt warm in a few days.

While making a wall frame out of trees, you started to feel dizzy again. You tied together the thin logs with multiple vines, and you hoped they would stay. The more you worked, the more your hands got torn up. 

You were tying the last of the frame, when you felt your body grow heavy. You were so tired. You thought you would die by the hands of the lazy man. With that, all other thoughts left you as the darkness crept in. 

The shelter was warm. There was a fire, and the blankets were wrapped around you, keeping you warm. Beside you was a bottle of water and a packet of painkillers. “Fever,” he sighed, “all work makes you uh… quick death?”

“Well, at least I am doing something. I have kept you alive, in the plane, in the water and now. I have done everything and what have you done other than act arrogant and lazy?” You said, “You haven’t even told me your name. We are stranded on an island. Maybe we will be rescued tomorrow, and it will be all in vain but what if it’s not tomorrow? What if it's months or a year from now?”

“What if never safe?” He argued, not looking at you.

“The point is, I don’t want to die in my twenties. I don’t want to die in general. I had dreams, to get married, have a family and be a loving wife. I was working a stupid office job, and I loved it. I won’t give up that dream. I will live with the hope that one day we will be rescued, and I will keep us alive goddamn it.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” He gave a dry laugh, “I have no care. I was not… supposed be on the plane.”

“I need you alive. I can’t do this on my own. If-” You took a deep breath, “If you die, I might do something stupid. I can’t live an undetermined number of days on my own”

He went quiet. 

“Think about someone else for a change, it’s not all about you, Mister Asshole.”

“Yoongi,” he mumbled

“What?” You asked, too tired to be mad.

“My name is Yoongi.” He left the shelter, and you were left sobbing in the dark.

You woke up to Yoongi cooking fish on the fire; you were not expecting it. He hadn’t really done anything to help you. He mostly sat around, but the two of you ate together before you got to work. It was after a few hours you noticed Yoongi was gone again. It disheartened you that he was off doing whatever again, while you were working. You were completely exasperated by the young man, he maddened you, always on your mind. He was hot and mysterious and you hate that you couldn’t stop thinking about him because he acted nice once.

You began opening the suitcases hoping you wouldn’t offend anyone by going through personal belongings of the deceased. Clothes in all different sizes mens and womens, all different styles and one suitcase broke you, filled with tiny onesies and cloth diapers, dummies and ointments and medicines for a tiny baby. A pretty purple rattle with a cute butterfly on the handle.

You slammed the suitcase shut and pushed it across the sand to look at another day but for now you needed to step aside, the wound was too fresh. These were real people who died and yet why did you two survive, the most unlikely pairing with the worst odds and yet you survived when countless innocent lives were lost. It wasn’t fair.

A few days had passed, and you were trying to create something sturdy enough to withstand wind and rain with a roof and walls. You had plenty of resources, but you had to pick the right ones that would last. 

You thought about it and decided to use the raft to line the inside of the house in the tarp-like material. It was super long, so you could do the roof and the four walls and still have the whole underside left over. You would weave leaves and sticks together to make them sturdier and layer them on the outside. 

Putting your plan to action seemed easy yet tedious. You collected long palm leaves, removed the spines, and weaved the leaves tightly together, and laid them on the floor. The more you weaved, the faster you got. Painstakingly working every day, you rejoiced when all four walls, roof, and floor were finished and stable.

While you were doing all this, Yoongi was nowhere to be seen. He returned at night, as he always did. He looked unbothered by all the work you had accomplished that day. You finished up, and the two of you ate and went to bed, which was just a collection of woven leaf mats covered in some of the leftover tarp from the raft.

You had moved the items from the shelter into the new house area. The two of you sat on the remaining raft fabric. “I made a bed out of leaf mats and covered it in the leftover material.” 

Yoongi seemed impressed looking around, “잘 했어.”

“Jal haess-eo?” you repeated the sounds “What does that mean?”

“Uh… good work” He took your hands and pulled out a small succulent leave from his pocket snapping it and squeezing out the liquid inside. Applying it to the cuts and scratches on your hands gently. You noticed his hands were rough too, for he had cuts and blisters littering the his palms as well. 

“Where did you find aloe vera?” you asked curiously. What had he been doing?

“Near the…” he made an action with his hand “폭포”

“The what?” You laughed, and he cracked a slight smile.

“Water shaaaa!” he made the sound and gesture of water falling. You laughed hysterically. He was so cute, when you got to know him.

“Waterfall?” you prompted, checking that was what he had meant.

“Ah waterfall!” he nodded, “Near the waterfall”

“What did you call it?” you said. You were genuinely interested. He had been trying his best to communicate with you in your language, so maybe you could learn some of his to ease the burden “Pog-o”

“폭포” he corrected. 

“Pogpo” You smiled at him. he seemed a little happy that you were giving his language a try. “How do you say good night?”

“안녕히 주무세요” he said and you blinked shocked, so he grinned,speaking slower in syllables “Ann-yeong-hi ju-mu-se-yo.”

“Annyeonghi,” you repeated. He seemed eager to teach you more, so you stayed up as long as you could, learning Korean phrases until you both fell asleep.

[Part 2/2] coming soon...

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[kiwi-the-first]

The Best Lover In The Parsec

Oneshot

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Fandom: Star Wars/The Mandalorian

CW: Fluff oh gods so much fluff, *slaps roof of the fic* this baby can fit so much yearning in it! Salt bae angst action, guest appearance of one(1) line of having the word "making love" and including one corny joke.

TW: mention of near death experience,self loathing,body image issues,canon-typical violence.

A/N: I keep mentioning it, this is my first piece of fanfiction writing. So I really really hope you guys like it. I am scared shitless. Never thought I'd ever write this but 2020 said fuck it you're writing fanfics now. Special thanks all of my writer friends for encouraging,helping and inspiring me everyday into making this happen. Iysm!

Enjoy!

- Kiwi

Masterlist

You.

He didn't know what to do with you.

He couldn't explain what you made him feel.

He couldn't explain how you made him feel.

But he knew the answers, he knew the words to describe it. He knew the scent of you and the dreamy sigh that escapes him everytime,he enters the fresher after your shower. 

He knew the sound of your voice and how it soothes his longing soul and fills in for the silence of the crest, or "home" as you liked to call it.

How he instantly melted after hearing you speak his name for the first time.

You knew it was sacred due to his creed but he had insisted that he trusted you well enough to tell you.

“Din Djarin?” you asked and he nodded. 

“What a beautiful name” you smiled.

He breathing hitched and swore to the Mythosaur he never saw anything as pure as that. Well maybe the kid but he was your foundling so of course.

You two are the most precious purposes to him.

Your eyes, so beautiful that he couldn't stop looking at them, a colour picked by nature itself and poured in by artists. Filled with a cacophony of emotions he willingly drowned into.

He knew the curves and nicks of your body.

You trusted him,let him be near you and patch you up when needed. He knows your loathing regarding it,knows the borderline ambiguity and acceptance you have towards loving yourself.

He knows how you confine yourself in the mere image of a fighter.

He knows it well because he does it too. Still he thinks that you manage to be kinder than he could ever be.

You. He keeps falling for you. Deeper and deeper in an infinite pit of ecstasy that most would call love. 

You're all on his mind lately. Still he doesn't know what to do.

--

He knew your actions.

He knew how you fight, how you patch him up,how you show your affection in silent gestures. Ways you cradle the kid and play little games with him but also scold him when it’s needed. The way his chest tightens with that one particular feeling, seeing the two of you like that.

The three of you are safe,laughing just enjoying each other’s presence and looking like a perfect family,an aliit.

Everytime he associates the word with you two he feels a wave of calmness crash over him.

But he’d be lying if it also didn’t make him want to be disintegrated by his own pulse rifle. It was too much how you constantly took care of the two of them.

How you silently admire him when you think he's looking at the stars. When in reality he's looking at you.

He’s always looking at you, looking out for you two.

But do you feel it too? He doesn't have the courage to ask.

He never did. He'd die a thousand different deaths as a coward than be left alone without you beside him.

Your soul, the purest most perfect thing to him deserves someone better. That is what he constantly told himself.

He never intended to be vulnerable with a stranger yet there you were and here he was. But only you weren't a stranger,not anymore. 

If he hadn't known any better he would go as far as calling you his soulmate. Silly it may seem.

A big,bad Mandalorian bounty hunter believing in soulmates, but it was the truth.

You're the one holding his heart. But still he doesn't know what to do.

--

But then it changed, years of travelling together and months on the run raising the little green bean whom you both love and protect with your entirety. Maybe this was where it all ended.

He has been in bad situations before, true. But death was something he never thought he'd have to possibly greet in front of you.

 He first noticed your eyes, all the other emotions were set aside as they made room for fear and hopelessness of losing him. Your pretty lips that he always craved to kiss were trembling as you held him close to you.

One hand holding his as tightly as possible while the other cradled under his neck.

He knew he should've told you, he wanted to, desperately. But surely, he couldn't do it now...right? You didn't deserve a last moment declaration of love but lose said lover and live in vain for the rest of your life.

But the maker played him again. Surprise!surprise! He didn’t die.

After the chaos and dangers were all done, the three of you left Nevarro, and the crest jumped into hyperspace he started to prepare himself.

You barely spoke to him as you were down in the hull with the kid.

After you tucked in the kid in the sleeping compartment and came to the cockpit to sit down he started preparing.

He didn't know how much time had passed but he was still silent and...well he scoffed at himself, still ‘’preparing’’.

But suddenly you got up from your seat, fumbling a little, clearly trying to say something.

"I need to talk to you" his entire body froze. 

Whatever it was, it scared him. He felt nauseous all of a sudden.

"...about today". 

Oh, his anxiety got the best of him. He was always the rusher and in the moment of weakness he couldn't control himself.

"Mando I think you shou-"

"I'm in love with you" he felt his voice slightly crack.

--

You blinked once,twice, mouth slightly agape. Tears started pooling in your eyes…

Shit shit shit shit it wasn't supposed to happen like this!!!

You were probably telling him how you'd much rather be without him and be safe far away from him and he fucked it all up.

Again he was gonna ruin something because he had no self restraint.

He was confused when you lurched your body to his chest, hugged him tightly and started sobbing.

Was this normal? When a person wants to leave you they don't do thi-

He heard your shaky voice let out a breath and then a

"I love you too" 

Huh?

Oh- 

OH!

He could faint right now. He could die and be alive again. If someone told him to befriend a jedi right now he would. 

It took him a while to process your words,probably because of that brain injury IG informed him about, he thought to himself. 

He was irrevocably happy.

Just...happy...and sated, but he also felt like someone ran over him with a mudhorn.

You loved him. You loved him.

You loved him back.

You-

--

He looks down at you. Sleeping silently curled up against him, holding him close.

This has been like that ever since. 

Ever since you both declared that all those touches were indeed electrocuting,that all those late night heart-to-hearts weren't just conversations to pass the time,how he longed to take your hands in his. 

Or how you wanted to take off his kriffing helmet so that you could see his eyes and what they hid, or kiss his lips yet you resisted.

It’s been a while, he thinks.

Since you settled down for your happy ending...or was it a beginning? He likes to think it's a little bit of both.

It was something he'd never thought he'd have. Since you learnt that the kid’s people were gone. Since the kid truly became your own in every sense.

But frankly if he was being honest Din didn’t ever want to give him away and neither did you. Your son,your Ad’ika. You now had the privilege to call him that with the permission from The Armorer.

Since your Riduurok.

Since he was allowed to take off his helmet and finally, you finally got to let your emotions run free.

To finally see his face and hold him close. To feel his lips and his warmth. 

The memory of your tears of unsung victory and joy still elevates his heartbeat.

Since you had made love and you laughed at his messed up curls in the morning after.

"Thanks for letting me in" you kissed his knuckles and he sighed contently.

"You did too" you furrowed your brows "I-"

"Literally" he winked, "oh? waiT YOU- EWW!!!" he was laughing hard as he dodged the pillow you threw at him.

"And to think! Your'e a responsible father!"

"Make a pervy joke again and I'll murder you" you grumbled. You kept laughing in each other's arms as he held you close

He still chuckles at the memory.

Now baby didn’t mind having a stable life with his buirs either.

You sighed in your sleep. The morning lights were seeping in through the slightly opened windows.

Sunbeams slowly making their ways into the room and enveloping your bodies. 

Your eyes crinkled in your sleep and you mumbled something and cuddling closer to him, if that were possible.

The kid will be up soon too and the thought alone makes him smile.

Yet another day with the two of you.

It was a free day for both of you and between your magnificent existence and snorting at Ad’ika running around,babbling and being the cutest menace. He knew he’d survive.

He looks down at you again and he's reminded of all the things that he loves about you. 

Now including how much you also love him. He could feel your heart beat,it is the best genre of music to him.

He felt the warmth again, not from the sunlight but from his infinite loop of affection for you.

“Ner Ali’it” he called you.

He'll bask in this for as long as you'd allow him and gladly, you promised to allow him forever.

He may be the best bounty hunter in the parsec but he never tried to be the best lover.

He simply couldn't!

For that title already had an owner,

You.

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:)