#a bottomless pit that you can throw feelings into forever

[roxbot]

.

[runariya]

Crash Course in Love • 3

pairing: snowboard instructor!Jungkook x ex-gf!reader (feat. platonic OT6) genre: rom-com, Exes 2 Lovers, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, tension, bad communication skills, heartbreak, hangover, doubts, emotional rollercoaster, fight against nature, being stranded, crying, verbal fighting and screaming, explicit sexual content, bit of dry humping, fingering, scissoring, unprotected sex, breast play, hickeys, scratch marks, love bites, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 15.3k

a/n: i'm absolutely knackered now, completely worn out. BUT it was sooooo worth it lol hope y'all enjoy it to the fullest bc next update probably won't be until the new year...sooooo...have funnnn!

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

01 • 02 • masterlist • 04

Day 4

“Fuck.”

You think you’ve woken up in hell—it must be—because, oh god, you feel like death. Your eyes are crusted shut, and you can’t feel your legs. But as you rub the sleep out of your eyes and prop yourself up on your elbows, you realise it’s just Namjoon lying across them, snoring away.

You try to take in the room, piecing together the hazy puzzle of last night. The party, the song, you running off only to drown yourself with Yoongi and Namjoon in alcohol, throwing your own little after-party. You remember crying, remember singing your heart out to sad love songs blaring through Dionysus. What a fucking mess you’ve become…

But after all that chaos, there’s only blackness. And seeing Yoongi and Namjoon still here with you in the suite, all of you fully dressed and reeking of alcohol, tells you enough. And as you groan, not just from the bottomless pit of stupidity, but from the pounding in your head, you let yourself collapse back onto your pillow.

You fight back another wave of tears, wishing the last 24 hours could just be erased, wishing you were back at home. You fumble blindly for your phone, finding it on the nightstand nearby.

2:56 p.m.

Just brilliant. Though, at least you’re spared from spending the whole day on the slopes. Not that you’d be able to walk straight with how you’re feeling, but a win’s a win.

You need to get up, though, so you start stirring both men awake. Yoongi’s not blocking you, but if you’re up, he has to be as well. Much to your surprise, both of them wake without protest, getting themselves into a sitting position on the bed, looking like zombies straight out of The Walking Dead. You reckon you look about the same.

“Sorry,” Namjoon mumbles as you begin massaging some blood back into your legs, which feel like they’re fighting for dear life.

“S’alright,” you croak out, unable to manage much more.

“Painkillers.” Yoongi just sits there, staring at his blanket, the rise and fall of his chest the only proof he’s still alive, though barely.

You and Namjoon both nod, but no one actually moves until, eventually, Namjoon rises—slowly, hands leaving the mattress only at the last second before he somehow straightens up and makes his way to the door, though it’s anything but a straight line.

You’re the second to get up, staggering into the bathroom to wash off everything clinging to you. You’re not sure if it’s just dried sweat or a bit of alcohol still on your skin, though you have a vague memory of Tae pouring something over your back. Either way, you’re in desperate need of a full shower to feel human again.

The only upside to this hangover is that your mind has finally shut up. Every bit of energy is focused on basic bodily functions, like breathing without throwing up and blinking your bloodshot eyes now and then. You’re not even fazed when Yoongi stumbles in, taking a piss that seems to go on forever; he clearly couldn’t give a fuck, and neither can you.

When you’ve finished rinsing your hair and are wrapped in a towel that’s too soft to absorb any actual moisture, you quietly switch places with Yoongi, both of you unintentionally making a point not to make eye contact.

You’re not entirely sure why you’re still here—not just in this town but on this entire trip. There’s no real drive left in you to give Jungkook closure, no fight in you at all, and definitely no desire to ever see him again.

So, you decide to get the hell out of here. Not right this second, no, your blood alcohol is likely still sky-high and will take a nosedive soon, taking you down with it, but tomorrow, you’re leaving. It’s the healthiest thing you could do, because frankly, you lost Jungkook years ago, and that realisation sobers you up more than anything else could. 

It doesn’t stir the same emotions it once did as you pull Jungkook’s old hoodie out of your luggage—or maybe you’re just too tired to care—as you tug the oversized black fabric over your head, the only comfortable thing you’d brought on this trip. Some leggings on, with your phone stuffed into the front pocket of the hoodie, you make your way to the main area, letting your eyes roam to maybe spot your missing phone case.

Jungkook’s already lounging in a single armchair, poking absently at the fire with an iron stick, his gaze tracking you as you move around the room. But you ignore him. It’s not like you’re being petty this time, and he can probably tell from your posture that you’re just not in the mood to interact at all.

You’re especially glad he doesn’t mention your—or rather, his—hoodie, and when you give up the search, realising the case isn’t lying around here either, you shuffle over to the sofa, collapsing onto it and immediately pulling out your phone. Scrolling through YouTube, you pull the hoodie’s hood down a bit further to block out Jungkook entirely, settling on a spa video promising a very satisfying blackhead extraction.

If your life’s this miserable, you’re at least going to give yourself this kind of satisfaction, even if it’s short-lived. And anyway, there are millions of similar videos waiting for you and your lonely ass. 

Namjoon emerges midway through your video, nudging your legs to make space for him. You shift, but only to let your legs settle in his lap as soon as he sits down.

“Here,” he offers, handing you two painkillers, which you take like they’re sweets, chewing them up so they might kick in faster. He pulls a disgusted face, but it quickly fades—probably can’t be bothered to waste any energy as well. 

“Jimin brought food,” Jungkook breaks the silence, still poking at the fire. “Should I get you some?”

You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or Namjoon, but you answer anyway. “I’m good, thanks.”

Maybe he expected a different answer, as his stick pauses for a moment, but you couldn’t care less. The chance to talk things out has passed, along with your will. It’s on him now. You’ve seen and heard enough.

“Why did you leave the party so early?” he tries again.

“It was because of me, I just—”

You cut Namjoon off; he really doesn’t need to do this for you. “Stop lying, I wanted to leave, and Namjoon and Yoongi didn’t want me to be alone.”

“Why?”

You pause your video, turning to meet Jungkook’s eyes. He’s bouncing his leg and chewing on his lip ring again, but it’s not your problem if he’s anxious or whatever. “None of your business.”

Namjoon gives your knee a slight squeeze, and while Jungkook turns his attention back to the flames like you’re the one who’s hurt him, he can go fuck himself. You’re not dealing with him right now. Not when he’s got Hara pregnant and sings love songs for her. 

Yoongi enters at that moment, settling into the armchair beside Jungkook and just managing to catch the two painkillers Namjoon tosses his way.

Silence returns, and you restart your video, losing yourself in the meditative extractions.

“Can I get a haaaawyeah?!” Tae bursts into the hostel, bringing Hope and Hara with him. Three of the four present groan in agony at the sudden noise, and you’re one of them. Still, you shift to sit up, making room for them to join.

You’re not sure why Hara chooses to sit next to you, quietly handing over a takeaway box of food with that warm, familiar smile of hers—you know it’s got to be from Jin’s. 

“I’m not hungry,” you mumble, the bite you had a few minutes ago already feeling like it never had been there to begin with.

“Please, eat something. Your body needs it.”

She’s right, but you can’t bring yourself to even lift the lid, staring blankly at it as if it’ll somehow reveal yet another surprise you’re not ready for. You know it’s not Hara’s fault you’re feeling like this, or that Jungkook chose her, but right now, all you can feel is bitterness, and her kindness only multiplies it.

Almost unconsciously, you glance up and find Jungkook’s eyes fixed on you, his leg still bouncing lightly, clearly tuned out from the lively conversation between the other guys.

You’ve kept this empty space in your heart reserved for him for so long, never realising he’d never fill it again. You just don’t have the energy for this anymore, the will to keep playing his game where he pulls you back into his world only to remind you you’re no longer really part of it. Not properly.

You wonder if Jungkook even realises what he’s doing, if he has any clue about how his actions come across. Or maybe he’s just as stuck as you, caught up in his patterns and too blind to see beyond them. The care and worry in his eyes when he looks at you, when he notices you making poor choices for your health—maybe, you reason, it’s just because he doesn’t know how to be any other way and nothing more. 

But that’s the thing about Jungkook: he genuinely cares. And that’s why he’s going to be the best dad on this earth—just not to your children.

“I’m really not hungry.” You think you see Jungkook’s jaw tick just a bit, but he again chooses to say nothing, his gaze, though, never wavering from you.

“I didn’t mean to, but damn, that woman was something else,” Tae bursts, sprawled on the floor in front of you, accidentally nudging your knee as he laughs with the others.

“Who?” you ask, trying to tune into the conversation just to get away from the other. 

“That woman who was sitting by the bar all night. Tae pulled her,” Hope bursts out laughing, especially at your disgusted, shocked face.

“Was she any good?” Namjoon inquires, like it’s the most normal thing to ask about a one-night stand.

“What can I say? She taught me things I didn’t even know existed.”

Yep, that info’s enough to make you gag for real, and judging by Yoongi and Jungkook’s expressions, they’re feeling the same.

“Want some?” you offer Yoongi the box, hoping to steer the conversation away from…whatever this is. But he just shakes his head, clearly not ready to risk upsetting his stomach as well. 

He’s pale as it is, and you can see the colour drain from his already bloodshot eyes at the sight of food. Poor man. 

“Jungkook, you hungry?” Hara offers softly, and you can’t help but glance at him again. 

His bouncing leg stills the instant she speaks to him. And even though it’s true—Jungkook can eat like a bottomless pit, never saying no to food—you don’t really want to interact with him right now. But, some things haven’t changed at all it seems, like you not being able to say no when it comes to him. 

Jungkook looks at you with those big, hopeful eyes, as if to say just eat it yourself—he’d never, like all those years ago, take food from you when it’s clear you’re barely eating yourself. But you just can’t, and with that, you get up, lean over the small coffee table separating you both, and offer him the box with both hands, a small, shaky smile on your face.

Jungkook stands up too, reaching for the food between you. You think he’ll just take it, but his hands cover yours, brushing over them until they settle on the container, and then, finally, he takes it. It catches you off guard, not just because he touched you first and not the box, but because it was absolutely deliberate.

Why he did it, you don’t know, but all you can think about is getting away fast before all your bottled-up emotions explode in your face.

“Can…uh…can someone drive me to the nearest petrol station?” you ask, standing there rooted to the spot, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment as everyone looks up at you.

Jungkook’s half a mind to put the box back on the table and get up again, but Hope springs up from his spot beside Taehyung, fishing his keys from his pocket. “I’ve got you.”

“Thanks, I’ll just get ready.” You cast him a quick, grateful look and head to your room, eyes down.

Hope just saved you there, because if Jungkook had offered to drive, you don’t know what you’d have done. Sure, you want him to be happy—you’re not some heartless person who wishes bad things on people, especially those who are…were…close to you.

 But what about your happiness? Don’t you deserve to find peace too? To protect yourself? So yes, you’ll take every bit of help you can get, even if it’s just a lift to the petrol station.

You didn’t mean to startle so violently when you turned to close the suite door, but honestly, you hadn’t even heard Hara following you, moving soundlessly like a ghost.

“C…can I help you?” You’re gripping the door until your knuckles turn white under your sweater paws, the door not even fully open anymore.

“Can I come in?”

It’s like something out of a nightmare, knowing you can’t turn her away just because Hara’s never done anything to hurt you. You have to remind yourself again and again that she’s not the villain here, chanting it silently in your head, trying to drown out the hurt that won’t go away whenever you look at her.

So, you nod, opening the door a bit wider, then turn around to let her in and busy yourself with “looking” for your phone case, just so you don’t have to face her.

“Are you okay?”

Her words break through the sound of the bedding as you give it a shake, hoping your case might fall out, but of course it doesn’t. Just like the right answer isn’t coming to you now, not to her question.

Maybe you’re okay, as okay as you can be. Maybe you’re not. Either way, you’re definitely not making her your therapist—not when she’s involved in all this stupid mess. 

“Yeah, sure. Are you?”

“Yeah, the sickness finally went away. I just hope I start to show soon—it’s getting weird at this point.”

You move around the room, checking every corner, stopping only when you spot an edge of your phone case outside on the porch, half-buried in the snow beside the jacuzzi.

“How far along are you?”

“Seventeenth week…we’ll find out the gender soon.” There’s a subtle cheer in her voice that makes your heart soften for a moment.

It must be incredible to be expecting, especially to finally know the baby’s gender and go a bit mad with shopping. You’re sure you’d be the same, and Hara likely will be, too.

You glance her way, offering a small, warm smile before opening the door to the porch. “Got a feeling what it’ll be?”

Hara comes closer to the door as you step outside, staying in the warmth while leaning against the frame. “Yes? No? Maybe?” She laughs. “Some days I swear it’s a boy, and then others I’m convinced it’s a girl. Tomorrow’s the appointment, so…I hope mini-me reveals its gender and isn’t shy.”

You giggle, fishing the icy case out of the snow and brushing off the clinging flakes. As you come back inside, Hara moves aside, settling herself on the edge of the bed while you grab a discarded shirt of Yoongi’s to dry the case off.

“Hey…uh…I don’t quite know how to start this, but…I know you’re not doing alright.”

The glance you throw her way is wary rather than hostile, but still, you don’t want a pep talk from her.

“Please, just talk to each other.”

Biting your lip, you really don’t want to say anything. Yes, you probably should talk to Jungkook, but then again, maybe you shouldn’t. He’s had countless chances to say something, to open up if he had any thoughts at all—and he’s used none of them. Not even when you broke up with him. He stayed silent, like he is now.

Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk, not really, and you’re done waiting and being the one to start things.

“There’s nothing left to talk about. But I appreciate your concern.”

Hara just nods, staring down at the floor, rubbing her hands together between her knees while you pull on your coat and tuck your phone safely into its case.

“It’s a nice case. Did you paint it yourself?”

You glance at your phone, rubbing your thumb over the faded paint that was once so bright. You couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it after the breakup, even though it reminds you of everything good about your time with Jungkook. Maybe there’s some masochistic streak in you that wants to punish yourself for everything you did and didn’t do. Maybe it’s time to let go of all the memories that keep pulling you back to a time that’s long gone.

“No.” You sigh, tucking it away in your coat pocket with your purse and heading to the door. You pause with your hand on the handle, checking to see if Hara’s following, which she is. She’s right behind you again, and this time, you just let out a startled scream internally, hoping you don’t flinch too visibly.

Opening the door, you let her pass first, just to keep her in your sight this time, but as soon as you’re near the entrance to the main area, she stops, raising a hand. You give her a puzzled look, but she only points to one of her ears, so you lean in, trying to make out what’s being said.

First, you catch the voices of Taehyung and Namjoon, Taehyung’s voice too loud and distinct not to notice. But when you listen a bit harder, you pick up Hope and Jungkook having a different conversation, probably a little further from the others.

“I know! I know you’re a good driver. Just…”

“Just? C’mon, what’s going on with you, C?”

“Just… take care of her, okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re acting like I’m some boy who’s just got his licence and can’t be trusted—”

The rustling of your coat drowns out the rest of their conversation as you step into the room, deciding not to eavesdrop any longer. You glance around briefly, and of course, Jungkook’s eyes find yours again, but you quickly turn towards Yoongi, resting your hands on his shoulders from behind where he’s still slouched on the one-seater. He wraps his hand around your wrist, his thumb gently brushing over your pulse.

“Why was my case out in the snow?” you murmur into his ear, which earns a lazy laugh from him. He peeks over his shoulder at you, his voice still raspy from his hangover as he murmurs back.

“You thought you could yeet it away and be done with it.”

Your cheeks go warm again; drunk-you is really ridiculous in every possible way. You’re just grateful it was only Namjoon and Yoongi who saw your breakdown, and no one else.

“Right.”

“Stay safe, yeah?”

He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze, and when your eyes meet again, even though his are still glassy from last night’s antics, there’s that quiet care in them only real family can have. 

“I will. Thanks for being there for me, Yoongs.” You press a quick kiss to his head and give him a brief squeeze around his shoulders, only for him to dramatically fake his own demise.

Straightening up, you meet Hope’s eyes, give him a quick nod, and head towards the door. Jungkook moves with the two of you, holding the door open without taking his eyes off you. His gaze is so intense that you can’t keep eye contact, mumbling a quiet, hurried “thanks” and “bye” as you follow Hope to his car.

You wouldn’t have thought Hope would drive a brand-new car, especially a vibrant red one. You wonder if an equipment rental shop really makes that much of a profit or if everyone in this town is just batshit rich. At least you’ll be safe—much safer than you’d be with Tony.

“So, how long’s the drive?” you ask, taking in the car’s interior while buckling up in the passenger seat. You notice the soft leather under your bum and the chrome trim around the touchscreen on the console.

“Maybe twenty or thirty minutes, depends on whether the roads are clear or still covered in snow.”

You hum in acknowledgment, tucking your hands under your thighs—not only because they’re still cold from the short walk outside, but also to avoid the urge to touch anything and risk breaking something you’d never be able to replace.

The car’s rolling down the steep hill you came from a few days ago in no time, and Hope’s both hands are steady on the wheel, which helps you relax in your seat. He’s definitely a good driver, like Yoongi, Jungkook, or your dad—the kind you can actually relax around without fearing for your life.

“So…would you be a kind soul and tell me what you’re all talking about in that group chat, especially about me?”

Of course you had to ask—why wouldn’t you, now that you’re alone with someone who’s clearly in on the whole scheme?

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

“Dunno…maybe because of Namjoon.”

“Oh, I’m not scared of him.” Hope laughs heartily, but his eyes don’t stray from the dark, snow-covered road ahead.

“Sooo…?”

“So, you should just talk to C. That’s what we’re all talking about.”

“Wow, wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“So why’re you asking if that’s not the answer you wanted?”

You fall silent.

“Listen. You and C are both hurting. And the only way forward is for you both to learn how to communicate properly, aka talk to each other.”

“There’s really nothing left to talk about.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s clearly moved on, no?”

Like, duh.

“Has he now?”

Duh?…

“Yeah, with Hara…and the baby on its way.”

Were you wrong all this time? It can’t be.

“Oh, boy…”

“Don’t ‘oh boy’ me.”

“Why do you think he’s with Hara?”

You’re trying not to show how hard it is to think clearly in your state, but the time it takes you to respond says it all. “It’s obvious.”

“Is it? Because it sounds like you’re seeing things how you want to, not how they actually are.”

“Rude.”

“It’s true.”

“You’re really forward for someone I barely know.”

“We’re not strangers, __.” Hope side-eyes you pointedly, making you scoot a tiny bit deeper into your seat.

“Basically, we are.”

“No, we’re not friends yet, but we’re not strangers either.”

So what does this mean for you and Jungkook? He’s not exactly a friend anymore, but he’s not a stranger either. Or…maybe he is. God, your brain feels like it’s about to explode any minute now.

“People change, Hope. Jungkook’s changed.”

Hope lets a short silence settle between you, his fingers tapping softly against the leather wheel as if he’s thinking about what to say next. Only now do you realise there’s no sound from the engine, and you clock that he’s driving an electric car—even though he lives in the mountains, in the cold.

“Have you?”

You’re half-tempted to just say yes, but is that really true? You’re not sure. Maybe you’ve matured a bit, but not enough to feel like a different person. What you do know for sure is that any growth you might have had stopped the moment you left Jungkook. You’ve been so caught up in trying to heal and be someone you’re not that you haven’t really evolved into the person you could have been.

Anything really—maybe a better person, but somehow still the same you. So, what have you become in the last few years? Are you the same? Or not quite?

“Not sure.”

Hope just nods, not as if he’s simply acknowledging what you said, but as if he already knew your answer. It’s uncanny how much talking to him reminds you of Yoongi, both of them having that same no-bullshit approach.

“Listen, I’m not here to play mediator,” yep, definitely like Yoongi, “nor are the others. You need to talk to him, get things sorted before it’s too late.”

“What if it’s already too late?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re so positive.” You whine pathetically. 

“And you’re a chronic pessimist.” He mimics you. 

“I’m just cautious.” You pull your hands from under your thighs and throw them in the air, more to get your point across than anything.

“No, you’re scared of what might never happen.”

Ouch. But he’s not…not right.

“I’m not. I’m doing snowboarding now, aren’t I?”

“So why are we heading to the nearest petrol station if you’re meant to be snowboarding all week?”

You shut your mouth and slide your hands back under your thighs, as if that might help you disappear. Maybe you weren’t as subtle as you thought, and not only Hope but everyone else—including Jungkook—has seen right through you. Is that why Hara wanted to talk to you earlier? Urging you to finally talk to Jungkook?

“Gotcha,” Hope giggles slightly, though when he sees your sad pout, he reaches over to give your knee a quick squeeze before returning his hand to the wheel.

“Alright, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” Okay, maybe not exactly like Yoongi. “But from what I’ve seen and heard, you liked snowboarding. And I’d say you probably enjoyed everything else you’ve done before, too.” He glances over at you. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

You just give a noncommittal shrug.

“You need to trust yourself and your capabilities a bit more. Start having faith in the positive outcomes, not just the negative ones, yeah? You’ll never be able to live without fear if you overthink everything…especially things with Jungkook.”

Your pout deepens, a light sheen of tears coating your lashes, which you tell yourself are just from the hangover crashing down on you now, not from facing the uncomfortable truth of your very persona. 

“I know it’s hard, ___. But sometimes thinking the worst makes it real, even though the outcome could’ve been different if you’d just had a bit more faith.”

“Are you talking about snowboarding or Jungkook?”

“Both.” He giggles again, and you can’t help but join in, sniffing your nose a little.

When just then another small town and the petrol station come into view, you straighten up in your seat, realising you’d been slouching more and more throughout the drive.

Even though you’re not looking forward to stepping outside into the cold, you’re glad for a bit of a cooldown, just to ease your exhaustion.

Hope parks his car right next to the petrol pump, and as soon as he turns it off, you both get out and head to the boot where two big empty canisters are waiting.

“Here, I’ll go to the one right behind this one.” He offers you one of the canisters, and while you take it, you’re still confused.

“I only need one, though.”

He’s already unscrewed his, pumping petrol as he leans to the side to look at you.

“Yeah, this one’s for me.”

You’re still confused, but you start filling your canister anyway.

“Isn’t your car electric?”

“Yeah, but I need emergency petrol for the generator in case there’s an outage and the baby’s coming.”

You freeze. Is Hope…? Oh god, you were so wrong all this time. Relief floods through you, so intense that tears spring to your eyes. Jungkook’s not the baby daddy.

“You’re Hara’s baby daddy?” you squeak.

“Gosh, no!”

And now you think you might throw up, the tears shifting back to the heartbreak of yesterday.

“Areum, my wife, she’s seven months pregnant. You missed her yesterday with your epic escape.”

“Oh. Uh, congratulations.”

But you only hear a snort from behind the pump.

Not wanting to fill the canister completely, you settle on half, afraid you might not have enough left in your bank account. You’re not exactly broke, but you’re worried your employer hasn’t transferred your pay on time. Again.

“I’m off to pay,” you mumble as you pass Hope and head into the small, warm station, where a young teenager plagued with acne stands behind the counter, his eyes barely lifting from his phone throughout your whole exchange.

“Your card’s declined, miss.”

The remaining colour drains from your face at his words. This really can’t be happening.

“Could you…could you try again, please?”

The teenager just rolls his eyes, and if you weren’t so mortified, you’d probably give him some shit for being so rude. But again, the familiar sound of your card being declined fills the little station, and when he hands your card back, you just mumble, “Just a second, please,” before stepping to the far corner by the cooling systems and getting your phone out.

And sure enough, your banking app shows you’re completely drained. Fuck. So there’s only one option left, then.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

“Yo,” Yoongi grumbles, and you’re pretty sure you can hear Jungkook’s panicked voice in the background, asking what’s happened.

“I need your help,” you whisper, glancing over at the teenager to check if he can hear, but he’s already engrossed in his phone again.

“What do you need?”

“I’m short on cash. I can’t pay—”

“Why?”

Yoongi’s tone isn’t accusatory in the slightest, just genuinely surprised. Hope comes into the station now too, cocking a brow at you, which you try to ease with a shaky smile.

“My employer’s late with my pay. Again. And the trip and, uh…it all just…”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, flat, almost monotone, but you know he feels awful now, realising you’re actually struggling, not just joking around. It’s not his fault though; you never talk about money, and maybe he’s apologising not just because he let you pay for everything, but because you haven’t had these conversations before.

“S’alright. Can you just transfer some money quickly so I can—”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

You hear him sigh—one that says, Don’t make this a thing now. Hope’s already paid for his, waiting by the door with his hands in his pockets, scanning some nearby magazines.

Knowing not to waste any more time, you hang up, open your banking app again, and refresh it every few seconds until there it is: a transfer of ten fucking thousand dollars from Yoongi, with the note, Should’ve told me sooner.

You make a mental note to give him a piece of your mind regarding the sum later as you pay for the petrol, and dash out of the station, dragging Hope with you to escape the embarrassment as soon as possible. 

“Slow down, will you?”

You let go of his arm once you’re by his car, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration as you mumble, “Sorry. God, I’m such a mess.”

“Come on, we’ll talk in the car. I just wanna get home.”

And you do, silently, closing your eyes as the car winds through the woods back the way you came.

You know Hope doesn’t want to pressure you, but you want to talk about it, just because bottling it up any longer would fry your brain.

“My employer still hasn’t transferred my pay,” you mumble. “I had to call Yoongi to borrow money.”

Hope lets out a long breath through his nose, shaking his head slowly as he listens.

“Again, as in this isn’t the first time?”

“Yeah, as in he owes me several thousand dollars by now.”

“Thousands?”

You tap your knuckle against the window, doing a quick mental tally of how much has piled up since you started working for this guy. “About fifty. Maybe a bit more.”

“No. Fucking. Way.” Hope glances over at you with each word, then back to the road. “___, that’s insane. Fifty thousand?! Why haven’t you sued him? Or quit?”

“I…” Yeah, good question. “I actually don’t know.”

It’s not like it’s a brilliant job worth hanging on to, but working from home has its perks, and finding another role in your field? That’s practically impossible without connections, which you definitely don’t have, seeing as you work from home and have done for years.

“You’re an accountant, yeah?”

“How do you know?” you ask, stopping your gentle tapping against the window to look over at his profile. 

“Oh, who d’you think told me?” He gives you a side-eye, looking slightly annoyed, and you just nod. “Areum’s an accountant too. She works for PwC, all remote. They’re looking for someone to cover her on maternity leave, and she gets to pick who fills in for her, soooo…”

“Sooo…?”

“Woman, I’m not spelling it out for you. You’re not that thick.”

Ouch. “Hey! Stop being so rude to me.”

“Then stop acting daft when you’re not.”

God, you want to strangle him. No wonder he gets along so well with Yoongi. You thought he was just this little ray of sunshine with that stupid bright laugh, but he’s feisty as hell.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble, knowing decisions like this aren’t made right now, especially as the painkillers wear off and your mind’s about to shut down along with your eyelids.

Eventually, sleep takes over, and if you’re honest, you don’t bother fighting it.

“___, wake up.” Hope’s voice and the gentle push of his hand against your shoulder rouse you not long after. And even though sleeping, even just a bit, should have done you some good, you feel worse after a fifteen-minute nap.

Reluctantly, you straighten in your seat, trying to wake up properly, and smack your lips to get the awful taste off your tongue, but it’s no use. You’ll need to brush your teeth as soon as you’re in the suite—there’s no way around it.

“Thanks for driving me,” you rasp, glancing out of the windscreen to see Jungkook hopping from one foot to the other in the cold, his breath rising in small clouds in front of him. “What’s he doing outside?”

“He’s waiting for you.”

“Oh.”

It’s a mystery why Jungkook would do that, seeing as you’re clearly not on good terms. You’ve been trading jabs and whatnot with every interaction, so the fact that he’s not fed up by now is really baffling.

“I’m heading straight home if that’s okay.”

“Oh. Sure, yes, of course, sorry.” You unbuckle your seatbelt, knowing you shouldn’t overstay your welcome, especially as Hope is snickering again. “Thanks again and goodnight.”

“Goodnight. And…talk to him.”

Well, you don’t really have a choice now. Especially when, after closing the passenger door, you walk to the boot to get your half-empty canister, only to find Jungkook already beside you.

“Here, let me help.”

He doesn’t meet your eyes this time, which feels strange after he spent all afternoon staring at you.

“I’ve got this.”

You heft the canister out of the boot and start walking straight to Tony to fill him up, letting the canister rest by your legs, you wave Hope off as he drives away, then clear the side of Tony of snow.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook stands beside you, arms crossed, chest puffed out. He looks intimidating—hotly so—but you’re still pissed and very much not in the mood for a chat.

“What does it look like?”

He just shrugs with a smirk, and as you finish clearing the snow, you realise you’ve done the wrong side of Tony. 

How embarrassing.

“Don’t say anything.”

And he doesn’t, aside from a quiet snicker as he follows you to the other side, where you finally start clearing the right bit of snow. This time, you find the cap and pull out your car keys to open it.

Ignoring your wishes, Jungkook picks up the canister and starts pouring the petrol into the car, biting his lip piercings again.

“Talk,” you snap, wanting to get this over with—whatever it is that’s bothering him so much he’s biting his lip bloody.

Jungkook glances briefly at you, and while you’ve seen that sad expression on him countless times, it still stings.

“Why did you leave?”

You sigh, glance towards the hostel, and look back at him. “When? When I broke up with you? On the slope yesterday? From the party? Or to the petrol station?”

Alright, it sounded cooler in your head, but you’re now realising you might have a bit of a tendency to run off. Oops.

“All of them, I guess.” He muses, shutting the cap and screwing the canister lid back on as he turns to you fully.

“Jungkook, that’s a conversation I’m not having with you right now.”

“And when would be the best time for it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe not outside, not in the middle of the night, not when I’m batshit hungover, and especially not when you’ve built a new life for yourself.”

That last bit wasn’t really what you wanted to say, but it slipped out anyway, the perfect proof that it’s indeed not the best time. 

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair for you to treat me like this, Jungkook. I’m not doing this anymore.”

You turn while watching him run a hand through his hair, then stomp through the deep snow towards the hostel to stop yourself freezing out here.

“Stop running away!”

“I’m not running away. I’m going to bed. You should too.”

Jungkook catches the door at the last second and steps into Dionysus right behind you.

“You are running away.”

You turn to face him sharply, causing him to nearly bulldoze into you, but he catches himself in time, stepping back a bit with his hands on his hips, still clutching the canister in his reddened hand.

“Why did you need petrol for Tony, who’s been out of it for days? Why now?”

You purse your lips, mirroring his stance instinctively, staring each other down. You’re stubborn, but so is he, and you’re not backing down. He wants to start a fight? See who breaks first? See if you’re really running away from him? Well, you’ll prove him wrong.

“Safety. Caution. Responsibility. Take your pick.”

There’s a familiar glint in his eyes—the one that says he knows you’re bullshitting him. God, you’ve missed this. Missed him.

“So, not fleeing the scene, hm?”

“Not fleeing the scene.”

And you’re not. Change of plans: you’re staying. You’ll stay, and you’ll whoop his ass by becoming the best snowboarder on the planet.

Jungkook just nods, and you nod back.

Usually, this would be the moment he’d tackle you and fuck the truth out of you in no time. And though you can vividly picture it, you need to keep your distance. So before the tension builds too much, before Jungkook becomes too much, you stop nodding and let your arms drop to your sides.

“Goodnight, Jungkook.”

He mirrors your stance, and though his eyes dim with that usual sadness, you refuse to see it as longing. Because why would he?

“Goodnight, ___.”

You nod, and while you can’t quite tear yourself away from his gaze, you eventually turn and head up to your suite, finding Yoongi already silently and fast asleep, you can’t help but to leave a tiny gap in the door, just enough to watch as Jungkook disappears into his own room.

Day 5

You feel good.

No, scratch that—you feel absolutely pumped, energised, and oh-so-ready for the day. There’s a wild fire blazing through your veins, just waiting to be unleashed, and you’re absolutely down for it.

Sitting alone in the dining room after that little talk with Yoongi about the sum he transferred to your bank account, only to be met with an eye roll in response, you’re busy preparing the most protein-packed breakfast Namjoon’s buffet has on offer. You’ll definitely need it—not just because your body’s craving nutrients, but because your brain needs to be at its best so you can finally beat Jungkook at his own game.

No, not with his petty remarks and actions, but by getting your answers with carefully placed, strategically even, questions so he doesn’t even realise you’re grilling him. You’re brilliant, so of course you can pull this off. The sulky victim era of ___ is over—here comes the new, improved you.

Though, if you’re honest, you know there’s a pretty decent chance that Jungkook might catch on to your plan. He’s always been good at that, always been just as brilliant as you. But his competitive side usually has you beat by the end of the day. But not today. Today, you’re determined to win.

Especially when the man himself strolls in, looking sinfully good. His hair’s damp, falling messily over his forehead and eyes, while his thin white shirt hangs loosely off his shoulders, clinging slightly to his skin where he didn’t dry off properly.

“Morning, Kook,” you chirp, practically singing it, intentionally calling him by the nickname you lovingly gave him all those years ago.

Jungkook slows his steps, one eyebrow raised and lips pursed. The confusion’s painted all across his face exactly as you’d hoped. Excellent.

“Morning.” He stops at your table, glancing at the empty chairs next to you and opposite you, and when he takes the one right beside you, you’re doing a little celebratory dance on the inside.

“Did you sleep well, Kook?” He eyes you as he gets his plate ready, and while he answers, you take a small bite of your food, your overly cheerful grin firmly in place.

“Uh, yeah, did you?”

“Of course! Snuggly kept me company all night.”

The confusion in Jungkook’s eyes deepens, and you’d give anything to know what’s running through his head right now. You keep your face just as innocent and cheerful as possible, though it’s getting harder by the second.

“So, what’ve you been up to these past five months?” If your math’s right, Hara’s now a little over four months along. So, if Jungkook was around back then, you’ve got your answer.

“Five months?” He raises an eyebrow again, biting into the sandwich he’s just thrown together. There’s far more ham than bread—probably more to keep his hands clean than for actual taste.

“Yeah, where’ve you all been, then?”

“Uh,” Jungkook chews, blinking at you. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure you out. “I’ve been to Bangkok, Hawaii, and, uh… before that, I was here for a few months.”

No. Fucking. Way. So all those mixed signals, not only from Jungkook but all his friends too, weren’t so mixed after all.

“This town’s pretty small. Is there anything exciting to do off-season?”

“Well, Hara had a huge birthday celebration. So there was that.”

“Hara’s birthday’s in August?”

“Yeah, why?”

So he gave her a baby for her birthday. How pathetic it makes you feel, realising you’ve been too busy being still his to fall for someone new all this time. But you don’t let the heartbreak show this time. You swallow it down because shutting down won’t help you now.

“Just asking.”

Jungkook just nods again, still contemplating your words, trying to read your motives like he always does, though you’re as blank as can be beneath your smile. It’s not that you’ve lost your determination to get through snowboarding—no, you’re way too competitive and stubborn to back down now. Still, you kind of wish you were as drunk as you’d been two days ago.

The upside of being fully sober again is that you feel fantastic. Physically, anyway. The downside is that your brain won’t shut up.

You vividly remember the night you ended things, the exhaustion, the desperation in your every word as you tried to explain yourself to him. It wasn’t that you didn’t love him; you did and you still do, maybe even more than you should. But back then, you’d grown tired of always feeling like you weren’t enough, of feeling like you were someone he didn’t really need.

You’d always been the one to soothe your doubts on your own, to make excuses for him and his choices, to tell yourself it was just a phase, that he’d eventually grow out of it—that he’d grow out of it for you. Not that he’d never do anything risky again, but just enough for him to see that some things are too dangerous to try.

Losing him was completely your fault, you know that, and even though he’s going to be a dad—even if it’s not your child—you’d crawl back to him in a heartbeat if there were any chance. Not that you’d ever be a homewrecker; that’s something you’d never do, and you’ll respect any relationship on earth as it is. But if he’s only going to be a father, if he’s only co-parenting with Hara and they’re not together, you’d try to make it work somehow.

Or maybe you’re just delusional, thinking you’d be okay with him having a kid that’s not yours. Because deep down, the thought of him being with someone else after you—even if you weren’t together anymore—makes you want to throw up. Not just because picturing it is one of your worst nightmares, but because all the love declarations he made, and will probably make again in that scenario, would be empty in their truest form. At least in your eyes. 

There’s nothing you can do about it; it’s not like you’re some grandma who thinks virginity before marriage is a must. But if he was with you and says he’d want to be with you again, there’s no chance if he had someone else in between.

Jungkook sniffs beside you, and you’re not exactly proud that, since learning he’s staying here at the hostel too, you’ve kept spare napkins nearby, just like the good old days, and you’re not proud as you hand him one with a small smile, still chewing, knowing his rhinitis is worst in the morning.

“Thanks,” he’s smiling, though there’s still that look of doubt in his eyes, as if he’s still trying to work out what you’re up to. “So, how about you?”

You’ve half a mind to exaggerate again, but you know you’ll need to save your energy today, especially since you’re spending the whole day with Jungkook. So you stick to the truth. “Nothing really. Mostly work, and a few activities I’ve tried.”

“It’s weird.”

“What is?”

“You doing all that stuff.”

Jungkook doesn’t look as accusatory as he did the first day; this time, he actually looks…sad.

“Didn’t you want me that way?” You keep your tone light, friendly even, but deep down, that old pettiness rises to the surface.

“No.” The word slips from his lips without a moment’s hesitation, his sad eyes fixed on yours, and suddenly, you can’t breathe. It just doesn’t make sense.

“I…why?”

He slowly swallows his last bite and reaches for his coffee, just to toy with the rim of the mug. Then he lifts his gaze to meet yours, boring into your irises as if to tell you more than he’s actually saying. “That’s not you.”

You just stare at him, trying to understand why he’d want you to change all those years ago, only to now tell you, indirectly, he doesn’t like the person he’d pushed you to become. No words form in your brain, again too overwhelmed by it all, so you just nod, because quite honestly, he’s right. It’s not who you are, even if some of the less riskier activities, like snowboarding, turned out to be more fun than you’d expected.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to handle the silence well as you quietly finish your meal, as his leg starts bouncing under the table again, occasionally brushing against yours. You’re sure he doesn’t even notice it, but you do and while you think about shifting your leg slightly away, that faint touch of his somehow soothes the intense longing you have for him.

How many times you’ve thought about calling him, only to remind yourself he was the one who let you go without a word, is beyond counting now. Trying to count would be like trying to reach infinity without breaking down as the despair catches up to you and you simply can’t do either. 

You need, with all your might, to pull your mind out of this endless void and focus on the good. You’re able to have a normal conversation with Jungkook. He’s fine. You’re fine. And if you can make it through these next two weeks, you tell yourself that you’ll be fine too, even if it’s without him. Because that countdown in your head has shifted—from thinking you’ve got time to work things out, to savouring these last moments with him as much as possible, hoping to make memories you can hold onto as fondly as the ones you made all those years ago.

“So, today’s blue slope day?”

Jungkook nods with a smirk, eyes still on his cup, clearly lost in thought. “Yeah. You ready?”

“Sure. I was born ready.”

The snort that escapes him mirrors your own, letting the sadness fade into that playful light in his eyes you’ve always adored when he finally looks back up to you. 

“Then let’s head out, shall we?”

“Yes, sir!” You salute playfully, downing the rest of your or rather his iced Americano—sneakily poured into a regular mug—in one go and standing as soon as Jungkook does.

It doesn’t take long for you both to get fully geared up and leave the hostel, Jungkook closing the usual distance between you by walking much closer than he has on any of the previous days, though you welcome it this time. 

“Give me your board.” Jungkook stretches out his free hand towards you when you’re just a few feet away from Dionysos.

“I can handle it.”

“I know you can. But you don’t have to.”

Wondering whether you’re about to be stubborn again, you decide to let him help you. It’s a nice gesture, and knowing his strength—which has clearly grown over the last few years—it’s no bother for him to carry your snowboard too. So you hand it to him, mumbling a small, grateful “thanks” and fall into step with him, the rustling of your gear and the dull thud of your boots the only sounds breaking the otherwise silent streets.

“It’s such a lovely day.” You marvel at the first rays of sunlight shining down, making the snow-covered streets steam ever so slightly, looking straight out of a fantasy.

The town’s not fully awake yet; a few people are setting up their displays outside, greeting you both with warm smiles and friendly faces. It’s easy being here, so welcoming when you ignore the chaos that’s crashed down on you since you arrived.

You’d like to imagine living here, spending the rest of your life in this place with Jungkook, befriending his friends too, all in some alternate universe. You daydream about a winter wedding, teaching your kids how to build a snowman, and everything else.

It would be nice, it would be perfect. Because in that universe, you’d still be with Jungkook, and you’d be not only happy but fulfilled.

“It is, the slopes should be perfect too.”

A small group of kindergarteners crosses your path just before the slopes, and as your gaze drifts from them to the shop windows behind, you catch the reflection of you and Jungkook side by side. He’s looking at the kids, full of adoration, with that same endearing smile you fell in love with all those years ago.

His hair’s just as shiny and healthy, his eyes sparkling in that familiar way. You’ve always known how much Jungkook wants a family—he always has, just as you always did. It’s one of the reasons you connected so quickly. His values and hopes for the future aligned so perfectly with yours that falling for him and picturing a life together was almost inevitable.

You knew back then that having different hobbies wasn’t the most important thing in a relationship, that differences in those areas wouldn’t decide its downfall. But somehow, you both let those differences take centre stage.

It wasn’t just poor communication that damaged things; you lost sight of what truly mattered, letting the good become tainted with doubt, trust begin to crack, and your hearts bleed in ways they never should have.

Standing there now, side by side, you realise that everything that happened, the way you both handled things, was so unnecessarily foolish. You wish you’d made different choices. You look perfect together, like one of those couples you see and just know they’re meant to be, like they’re soulmates, like they’re fated.

Jungkook’s eyes lift up, catching yours in the window, and his smile grows just a bit wider. There’s still that adoration there—or is it just nostalgia? Or maybe it’s the inner peace he feels, knowing he’ll soon have a child of his own? You’re not sure, and you’re afraid to let yourself think too deeply about it. Because, honestly, if it’s anything but adoration, you’d spiral so much, so irrevocably, that you might just break all over again.

Switching your board to his other hand, where he’s already holding his own, he lifts his now free arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. Your head doesn’t even reach his eyes, and your shoulder aligns perfectly with his arm, like you’re a puzzle piece fitting into him. You can’t help the broad smile that breaks over your face when he says, “I’m glad you’re here.”

You turn away from the window, tilting your head up to look into his beautiful brown eyes, taking in this small, pure moment that you’ll lock away in the deepest parts of your heart and cherish for the rest of your life. “Me too.”

Simple moments like these with Jungkook have always been so beautiful. It’s always been like this, just the two of you in a bubble where nothing else matters. The ache in your heart should ease in moments like this, but instead, it grows, the longing building until it’s nearly unbearable.

How perfect it would feel to kiss him now, how your heart and soul would sing if he kissed you back. The realisation—the overwhelming certainty—that he truly was the one for you hits you like an avalanche, burying you so deeply you’ll never find a way out.

Still, you turn your face away, and he lets you go.

“Let’s get it.” Jungkook cheers, and you echo his words, because you don’t know what else to say, walking side by side to the lift. Thankfully, this time without any annoying interruptions from his fangirls.

The first ride up in the ski gondola is equal parts terrifying and beautiful. The trees below look like miniature toys, and the mountain peaks seem too stunning to be real, like a picture painted by an artist. The gondola is empty except for the two of you, Jungkook sitting across from you, both of you gazing outside. But every now and then, you can’t help glancing at his reflection.

Jungkook talks the entire way up, going over everything you should know about snowboarding by now. His calm voice, his solid presence right in front of you, and his patient review of the basics settle the last of your nerves, along with Hope’s words, still ringing loudly in your mind.

Fear is faith in the negative.

And you don’t want to live like that again—not now, and not when it’s just snowboarding. You trust your own abilities, and you trust Jungkook to keep you safe, like he always has. Well, aside from that one camping incident—but you’ll turn a blind eye to that for now. You have to, because one lapse in his judgement all those years ago shouldn’t undo everything else he’s proven to you.

The morning is spent making descent after descent, each one becoming easier and more fun, especially with Jungkook staying close. You manage to fall less and less, and when you do, he’s always right there, reaching out to help you back on your feet.

And while you’re laughing and joking like old times, it feels as if no time has passed at all.

Just before lunch, you both find yourselves back at the gondola, though this time it’s a different one.

“There’s this restaurant way up there.” Jungkook points into the distance, and you squint, trying to follow his finger, but the sun is too bright to make out exactly where he’s pointing. “The food’s amazing, and we’ll be able to take a way longer run down. It’ll build your stamina and get you ready for the harder slopes tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” You smile at him, excited not only for the food but also for the chance to push yourself a bit more.

When you step into the gondola with a few others, it’s so packed that you have to squeeze in beside Jungkook, pressing against his side. With his broad shoulders and your thick coat, there’s not much room and after a few minutes, Jungkook shifts and lifts his arm, draping it over your shoulder to give you both a bit more space.

You frown. Even though it’s more comfortable this way, you don’t like it at all. If he’s with Hara, this is crossing boundaries left and right. You know that if you were still together and he did this with another woman, it’d be a dealbreaker.

The gesture sours your mood instantly, letting your thoughts spiral in a way that has you dangerously close to snapping at him. But you hold back. You won’t start a scene now, not here; you’ll wait until you’re at the restaurant and talk things through.

When you reach the top and leave the gondola, heading toward the small restaurant by the lift, Jungkook keeps his hand resting lightly on your back.

It’s ironic, really. You left because you wanted him to find happiness, to be with someone who wouldn’t bring conflict, someone he wouldn’t feel the need to change. And here he is, supposedly happy, yet acting like you’re still his, clinging to old habits like they’re the only things he has left with you. 

Maybe that’s the saddest part of all. He’s got everything he once told you he wanted, yet he’s still holding onto pieces of the past, unable to let them go. And maybe he’ll never fully move on, just like you haven’t, even if he thinks he has. But that’s not something you can fix. You tried—more than once—to help him keep his distance, to let go of whatever still kept him wounded. Even if it wasn’t the perfect approach, pretending to be with Yoongi, you thought it might help him move on. But he has to handle that himself now; you’re done being the one to guide him there.

You deserve peace, too. You deserve to be able to look back on your time together without feeling unresolved tension. If that means keeping your distance, letting him live his life with Hara without stepping in, then so be it. You’re done making excuses for him, done justifying his behaviour to yourself. He’s made his choices, back then and now too, and now it’s time for you to make yours.

You take a deep breath, letting it all settle within you as you step into the restaurant. The hurt, the sadness, the longing—sure, it’s all still there, and maybe it always will be. But now, it’s just that: memories. Moments you once cherished, now filed away in a part of your heart that no longer needs to cling so tightly. Or at least, that’s what you hope.

As you sit down across from him, letting go bit by bit, you realise that maybe this is what closure should feel like. Hurtful, and not freeing at all. 

“You’re kinda touchy.” 

Jungkook looks up from his menu, running the tip of his tongue over his lip piercing. “I always am.”

Your lips press into a firm line, shoulders tensing even more. Jungkook’s eyes dart over you, and he realises too late that your mood has shifted. As he catches on, his nervous habits start to surface in an instant. He fumbles with his menu, his leg bouncing so hard that the tablecloth shifts slightly with each movement.

“Doesn’t it feel wrong to you?” You ask, your tone so accusatory it even startles you.

Jungkook gulps, actually gulps, and you feel the urge to laugh or maybe storm off altogether.

“No?” He sounds uncertain, though there’s a strange conviction in his voice, even with his nerves. “Does it bother you?”

“Yes.”

You stare each other down, Jungkook nodding but tilting his head slightly, eyebrows drawn. “Is it because of Yoongi?”

Should you come clean and tell him you’re not dating Yoongi, that he’s just your cousin? But you can’t see the point. It wouldn’t change anything now, you’re sure of that. Though you’re not sure if the snort and shake of your head is more because of how absurd it all is, or if it’s meant to answer his question. Either way, it fits. And as Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw clenching in a steady rhythm, you don’t say anything more.

The tension between you feels like it’s growing and the silence between you both is almost suffocating you. You try to distract yourself by looking at the scenery outside the window, but it’s no use.

“I never wanted to do all those things,” you mumble, as if you can somehow lift a bit of the weight off your chest. “But I felt so…so unworthy…so empty. I needed to do it, even if I hated most of it.”

The waiter sets down your plates and drinks, wishing you a pleasant meal. Still, you don’t look up at Jungkook, maybe out of embarrassment, maybe because you just can’t. Instead, you stare at your food, forcing yourself to eat, even if it’s only a little.

“You shouldn’t have.” His voice is gentle, and you feel his gaze burning onto your face, though you try to ignore it. “Not for someone else, at least.”

Is he talking about himself? Or does he think you did it all for Yoongi? Either way, he’s right, though those words would have made more difference if he’d said them years ago.

“Maybe you’re right.”

It’s unusual to see Jungkook eating so slowly, and it’s not like you to keep so quiet, either. It’s not that you can’t handle silence, but sharing a meal like this without any connection feels so pointless.

“Was it easy?” Jungkook eventually asks, and your eyes involuntarily snap up to him.

“What was?”

“Moving on so fast…”

Sometimes, looking at Jungkook like you do now, you marvel at how much he’s matured. His features have lost that softness, his smooth skin now showing faint lines from laughter and time you weren’t there to share.

You’d always imagined growing old with him, and even though it hasn’t been that long, your heart aches for all the time lost.

The faint, bluish shadows under his eyes, something he didn’t even have during his finals, make him look not just tired, but drained off life. You can only hope it’s not because of you.

“I never did, so I can’t say.”

You both go back to eating, letting silence settle again as you try to process it all. Maybe you need a whiteboard, or even a list, something to help you make sense of it all, thinking you’ll definitely do that later, once you’re back at the hostel tonight. 

More than half your plate is still full, but you can’t seem to eat any more. As you set your cutlery down and tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you notice Jungkook’s already finished his meal.

“You should eat more.”

“I’m full. I’ll just take it to go.”

And after Jungkook sighs and nods, you do just that, quickly insisting you’ll pay for your own meal, refusing to let him cover it for you.

Finally back outside, the sky has shifted, like your mood, from sunny and clear to dark, with low-hanging, heavy clouds.

“That’s odd,” Jungkook mutters, fishing his phone out and typing quickly. “Forecast didn’t mention a downpour.”

“What should we do?” Your nerves flare, body tingling and palms starting to sweat as that familiar panic creeps in, the kind that takes over any time things veer off-plan.

Jungkook’s eyes dart over his screen, only adding to your unease.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath and puts his phone away. “So, uh, there’s a thunder cell that’s come up out of nowhere, and there’s a warning for a severe snowstorm. But it’s all good. We still have time.”

Just then, the first big snowflakes start falling from the clouds, and the wind picks up. As you look up at the sky, your voice trembles, “Jungkook?”

“Alright, okay, maybe we don’t have as much time as I thought. We’re going to head down this way quickly, but safely.” He points toward a fork in the path where you can see a sign with a blue dot in one direction and a black one in the other—the black meaning it’s the most difficult and dangerous run there is.

“Okay.” You don’t sound entirely convinced, partly because, while you believe in your skills, you know that in these weather conditions, even the best skills won’t count for much.

“Strap on your board. We need to go.”

And you follow his instructions because, at this point, there’s no other option. The wind has picked up dramatically by the time you straighten up again, and you have to strain every muscle to stay upright against its force.

You’re terrified, and Jungkook’s focused, hurried pace isn’t doing much to settle your nerves.

“You’re leading, so I can keep my eyes on you.” 

You nod, shifting your weight forward to start descending, but keeping control of the board proves not just difficult, but almost impossible. Your vision blurs with the flurry of snowflakes, even through your goggles, you can barely make out the slope or see the fork ahead.

“To the right!” you hear Jungkook shout from behind, his voice frantic to its core. But as you pick up speed, the wind shoves you beyond the limit of what you can handle, pushing you towards the left, dangerously close to the black run.

“To the right, ___!”

You try, you really do, but you can’t seem to manage it. Like a leaf in a gale, you’re pulled in the direction you don’t want to go, helpless to stop it. Lungs burning with each short breath, you think you scream the moment you realise it’s too late, skidding down the steep, black slope.

You try to brake, just like Jungkook taught you, but your knees are weak, your muscles not trained enough to regain control.

Jungkook rushes up beside you, and even though you’re in full survival mode, his presence brings you a tiny sliver of reassurance, even if it’s just for a while. 

“You’re doing good, keep going!”

And you do, tears streaming down under your scarf. The storm keeps pushing you off course, pulling you again and again in directions you don’t want to go. But Jungkook’s right there, sticking close beside you, trying to block out some of the wind’s blasts and guiding you as best as he can.

It feels like an eternity—fighting against nature, fighting to stay upright, fighting the fear building stronger and stronger in your chest. Somehow, even though you left the marked slope ages ago, heading somewhere unknown and unsure if it’ll lead you to safety, you spot a small, abandoned-looking hut in the distance.

“Try to stop!” Jungkook yells, his voice barely reaching you through the howling wind.

“Now?”

“Now!”

You manage to stop, though clumsily, falling hard onto your bum, every muscle aching so painfully you’re barely able to move. Jungkook ditches his board in seconds, crawling over to help you with yours as the frozen clips stubbornly resist coming loose.

“You good?” He glances briefly at your face, breath visible in short puffs matching yours, his lips chapped and slightly split.

You nod, though you’re still trembling, trying to steady yourself as adrenaline surges through you without much mercy. 

Jungkook gets up with your board in hand, offering his free hand to you in a heartbeat and pulling you up effortlessly. After he picks up his own board, jointing yours, he clasps your hand with his free one and bolts towards the hut, dragging you along with him. 

Thankfully, or rather miraculously, the hut’s indeed abandoned and open. And while Jungkook pushes you inside first, letting the boards clatter onto the wooden floor as he leans against the door, both of you are panting and gasping for air, needing this break more than anything. 

The hut’s not really windproof, small gaps in the wooden walls still letting the cold wind whistle inside.

“Seriously? What the hell were you thinking?!” He rips his helmet off and throws it to the boards on the ground.

You try to straighten yourself, though the ache’s nearly too much. “I… I tried. I… it…”

“You just never listen, do you? I told you to turn right back there, but of course, you went your own way. Always have, always will.”

The storm outside’s picked up even more now, and the cold has seeped into your bones, though you still fold your arms, doing your best to keep your voice steady despite the burn in your lungs. “Oh, please, Jungkook. Don’t act like I’m the only one who doesn’t listen. You’ve got selective hearing when it suits you.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a gloved hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “Selective hearing? I spent years trying to tell you things, but you were always too stubborn to actually listen.”

“Right, yeah, I’m the stubborn one,” you snap right back. “You still can’t even talk to me unless it’s about some bullshit like snowboarding.”

“Oh, as if you’re any better.”

“I am! You didn’t even say one word before I left!” you explode, ripping off your helmet too, followed by your gloves, yeeting them across the hut.

“Oh, fuck off, ___! I wanted to, but clearly, you couldn’t wait to fuck Yoongi as soon as you got rid off me!”

“Yoongi’s my cousin, Jungkook. Family. But I wouldn’t expect you to know that, since you barely know anything about my life anymore.”

Jungkook’s face falls at that, and you can clearly see how his whole world view crumbles in his eyes, leaving nothing behind but a hollow sadness you’ve never seen before. Though you’re sad too, you’re hollow too, and so you continue, “Don’t pin this on me when I never moved on, when you were the one fucking Hara and giving her a baby.”

His unfocused eyes snap to you, lips still parted as he breathes, “I never slept with her. She’s Jin’s wife.”

You feel like you’re falling, falling so hard and fast you can’t stop. The tears that coat your eyes are nothing compared to the agonising realisation ripping you open. All those years, even all this hurt you’ve been experiencing these last few days, were unfounded.

If you weren’t this close to Jungkook, you’d think his red nose was just from the cold, but the silver lining his eyes carry shows just how broken you both are, what you did to yourselves without even realising it in the first place. 

“You moved on,” you press out, fighting the sob that threatens to spill.

“I haven’t.”

How foolish all the assumptions were, how foolish of him to assume just as much. How utterly foolish that you both lost the ability to talk to each other long before your relationship ended.

But maybe it had to come to this for you to learn what it’s like to be separated, to learn how to communicate… but have you really? You reckon you haven’t, not given how things went down. Maybe it’s too late, just as Hope warned you, though a small, fragile part in you clings to the delusion that things might still turn out right.

“Let’s… let’s call for help.” You turn, unable to keep looking at Jungkook, and you’re sure he needs time to process the bomb that’s just dropped.

“Yeah,” he’s taking out his phone again, though the breath he lets out is nothing short of concerning. “My phone’s dead. How about yours?”

By now you’ve sat down on the small, bare bed, as standing any longer would have had you fainting by this point. While you rummage through your inner coat pocket to pull out your old beaten-up phone, Jungkook stomps over with his snow-covered boots and sits down beside you, leaving enough space between you that it feels like miles.

Lighting up the screen, you see your phone’s battery miraculously still well over 90%, but there’s absolutely no signal. “Nope, no signal. We’re stranded.”

Just as you’re about to put your phone back, Jungkook stops you with his voice. “You still got the case?”

You pause, looking over at him, only to meet hopeful eyes you can’t quite place.

“Uh, yeah. You clearly got rid of yours though.”

You hate sounding so bitter, but it is what it is. Years of feeling the way you did can’t be undone with one revelation.

“I lost it… my phone, too, when I was in the Caribbean shortly after we…”

You hum and nod because what else is there to do?

“Why did you keep it?”

Your eyes stray from your phone, where you’re running your thumb over one of Jungkook’s doodles on the case like it always does, to him, though he’s not looking at you this time, just fiddling with his gloves in his lap.

“I can’t get rid of memories. You should know that.”

“Even if they’re bad?” He turns his head to you, though his eyes are fixed on your phone. The way he’s slouching is so unlike him, and it hurts to see what you’ve done to him.

“They aren’t bad.”

Jungkook nods a few times, as if he’s trying to cement your words in his mind, rewriting everything he thought was real but never was.

Eventually, Jungkook stands up and walks over to a small closet, pulling open the doors to see what’s inside.

“No way.” He breathes out a laugh, and you crane your neck to look past his broad shoulders, though it’s no use.

When he turns, arms full of vacuum bags stuffed with blankets and pillows, you feel like you might scream in delight. Especially when Jungkook rips them open beside you and a waft of freshly washed fabric hits you.

“That’s like hitting the jackpot.” You look up at him, your grin as wide as his as he just laughs. “Can you light the fireplace too?”

Jungkook furrows his brows as he looks around the hut, likely because he hadn’t spotted it until now. But as soon as he clocks it, along with the stack of dried wood beside it, he’s off in a flash, inspecting the chimney and everything else.

Meanwhile, you gather all the bedding and spread it out on the bed, purposefully ignoring the fact that there’s only this one bed in the hut and not even a couch. It shouldn’t be a big deal—you’ve done more than sleep in the same bed as Jungkook before, and you’re both clearly single, so there’s nothing your conscience can protest about.

Still, time has passed, and you’ve clearly drifted apart more than you would’ve liked. It’s an unusual situation you’re in, an emergency really, and you’ll have to adjust to it without reading too much into it.

“Got a lighter on you?”

You pull it out of your pocket, leaving Yoongi’s cigarettes in your pocket that you nicked this morning alongside before leaving, and toss the lighter his way which he catches effortlessly with one hand, lighting up the kindling he’s set, framed by a few larger sticks of wood.

Jungkook watches the fire intently, and soon enough the hut’s heating up, allowing you to take off your coat. Not wanting to keep your boots on any longer—by now, they’ve cut off all circulation in your feet—you pull them off as well, then crawl onto the bed, settling against the headboard under the layers of blankets.

You’re absolutely knackered at this point, and as you check the time on your phone, you realise it’s already past dinnertime.

“You can join me, you know?” you smile as Jungkook turns around, muttering an “okay” and starting to peel off his gear too, though you don’t miss the flush creeping up to his ears.

How endearing he can still be.

The bed’s clearly not meant for two—especially not when Jungkook’s become this buff. He’d probably struggle to fit on his own, let alone with someone else. And though you’re fairly petite next to him, you’re both squished together, personal space nonexistent. Still, it’s better than freezing to death outside.

“I’m so tired,” you yawn.

“I’m so hungry.”

The pout on Jungkook’s face makes you giggle; it’s just so him. Without thinking, you lean over him to fetch the food from your coat. Only when you settle back beside him do you notice how stiff he’s gone.

You don’t comment on it, just hand him the leftovers, which he reluctantly takes, though this time he doesn’t engulf your hands like he did yesterday. Not that you’d admit it, but you’re a bit sad he didn’t do it again.

“You hungry too? It’s your food.”

“I’m good, Jungkook, please just eat.”

You’re starting to read him again, just a bit less hazy than it was the last few days. So before he can start arguing with you, those sad boba eyes pleading for you to eat when you’re genuinely not hungry, you lay your hand over his arm, giving it a light squeeze. “I’m not hungry, promise.”

With that, Jungkook starts to eat and you lean back, slumping more into the blankets as he eats in silence, your eyes growing heavy with each passing minute. 

“You can sleep if you want.” Jungkook gently pulls the blanket higher over your shoulder as you lie down fully, your head nearly resting against his hip.

“I’m still cold,” you mumble sleepily, though there’s no chance you’ll really fall asleep while you’re still shivering like this. The storm’s really taken it out of you.

Jungkook shifts, and when you open your eyes, you realise he’s finished eating and is lying down facing you. “Turn around.”

Lying beside him like this, faces just inches apart, is something you never thought would happen again. And while it’s hard to look away from him—the slope of his nose, the Cupid’s bow of his lips making them almost too inviting—you fight against the blankets draped over you both and turn around. Jungkook slips an arm around your waist without much care, pulling you fully against him until there’s no space left between you.

Heart racing like a hummingbird’s wings, you try to relax into his hold, but the thin layer of fabric separating you makes it feel as though you’re bare. You’d seen the contours of his body when he stripped off his gear, the black thermal shirt and pants clinging to his muscles like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. But feeling his solid body against yours like this, after so long, leaves your head spinning in circles you can’t seem to stop.

You haven’t noticed how your hips press back against his crotch, haven’t noticed the way your body instinctively moves against his until Jungkook’s breath hits your ear.

“Sorry,” you breathe, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to stop. His large hand, which had been resting on the mattress beside you, slides up along your stomach, stopping just before cupping your breast from below, and you know you’ve stepped through a door that should’ve been left closed.

Heat rises within you, making you shiver with something far more pleasant than the cold. You need more of him, more of his touch, and your hand slips from beneath the blankets, reaching back to tangle in the hair at the back of his head, willing yourself to just feel and nothing more. 

His quick breaths ghost across the part of your neck that’s bare, just enough to spark more want not only in your heart but your cunt too. You tug gently at his hair, urging him down, igniting a fire you know won’t be put out easily.

Before his hand fully cups your breast, he pulls you even tighter against him, hot lips kissing and sucking at your skin as you press yourself back, trying to ease the ache between your legs against his growing cock.

The low moans slipping from Jungkook’s throat are music to your ears, and the realisation that he likely sang that song not for Hara, but for you, sends another wave of arousal out of your cunt.

“Jungkook…” you rasp, basking in his touch, but as soon as his name leaves your lips, he pulls back.

Thinking you’ve done something wrong, you turn your head, only to see him tugging off the last of his clothes. Relieved and more turned on than you’ve ever been, you strip off your own gear, leaving the blanket draped over you. It’s been years, your body’s changed, and while you know it shouldn’t matter, you still hope he doesn’t notice.

In a blink, he’s back, resuming where he left off, though now it’s his warm, smooth skin against yours. The ridges of his abdomen press along your back, and the feel of his cock—hard and oh so hot—against the cheeks of your ass is pure bliss.

You turn your head, trying to catch his gaze, maybe even hoping for a kiss, but when you catch sight of the familiar chain around his neck, it stops you in your tracks.

Jungkook pauses too, his eyes questioning, but as soon as he realises what you’re looking at, he gives you a lazy smirk, his hand cupping your face to turn you towards him and with it your whole body. 

You expect him to kiss you now, hungrily like he always did, but instead, he brushes his lips along your cheek, your neck, shifting to settle between your legs while the cool metal of the chain’s grazing your tits with every shift of his body.

“I don’t have a condom. I could…eat you out.”

His thigh pressing against you doesn’t lessen the ache, but you remember the one scare you had together, that time you thought you might be pregnant not long after you’d started dating. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t have wanted it, but you’d both been so young. Even now, the thought makes your heart skip, but not as violently as it used to. You’d be ready and willing to take the risk, though, would he? 

“I’m clean, on the pill.”

Jungkook lets out a low groan against your neck as you press your thigh gently against his cock, needing to give something back.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you. So clean.”

Is he serious? The thought hits you hard, and though you know he never lied to you before, you still can’t help but pull back, needing to see his face.

“You haven’t?”

“No.” His voice is barely a whisper, and the same love you remember shines in his eyes, making you tear up.

“Me too.”

“Fuck.” He returns to your neck, his fingers tracing your lines until they find your weeping cunt, slipping between your lips to spread your juices in gentle, familiar strokes as he preps you, every touch an echo of the love that maybe never faded.

The first stretch of his middle finger inside you is nothing short of insane, drawing you higher with a single stroke than any toy has managed in years. The way your cunt clenches around him seems to drive Jungkook on even more as he pumps with precise motions, soon adding his ring finger, bringing you dangerously close to euphoria.

Jungkook’s free hand roams from your neck to your tits, back and forth, squeezing, mapping you out like he forgot how you felt like, though finally resting on your jaw as he nestles his head between your shoulder and neck, leaving soft love bites in his wake.

It’s when he picks up the pace, the base of his palm hitting your clit relentlessly with each thrust, that you come undone, your orgasm flooding over his hand as he continues, determined to not stop just yet. 

A muffled whine of your name slips from his lips, softer than you’ve ever heard, and while you long to hear him call your pet name like he used to, it only amplifies the fullness in your heart for him.

Jungkook keeps his fingers inside you, now scissoring them to stretch you further as you cling to his back, not caring if you leave angry marks. 

“Think you can take it?”

“Yes,” you mewl, not caring if you couldn’t. You’ll take him, you need him, need to feel as if none of those years apart ever happened.

Once again, you think he might finally kiss you, but instead, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your damp forehead. You momentarily frown, but it’s forgotten the second his cock aligns with your still sobbing cunt, dragging up and down to coat his entire length and even his tight balls.

The sight of Jungkook when he finally pushes in is nothing short of mesmerising. He’s so perfectly sculpted, every muscle cord defined, and with his piercings and tattoo sleeve, he looks like a fantasy you never dared dreaming of. 

You’ve always had a weak spot for tattoos, but seeing them inked across Jungkook’s skin? That’s your ultimate downfall. A glorious downfall, as the burn of his thick length pushing deep inside you sends you reeling, until he’s so far in that you can’t tell where he starts and you end.

“Oh my god,” you choke out, overwhelmed by everything Jungkook is—and everything he’s become.

He’s unusually silent, though you barely notice, not when he begins to rock his hips, leisurely sliding his massive cock in and out, low grunts and moans escaping him as his gaze locks onto yours and not dares to stray. 

Jungkook leans back, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, sweat forming in small beads along the ridges of his chest and abs, dripping down despite the cold. His nipples are hard, and your mouth waters with the urge to suck on them. But seeing his own mouth slightly parted, breaths quickening in time with the rhythm of his hips, you’re sure he’s thinking the same, drawn to your own nipples, standing proud on the jiggling flesh of your chest. 

And while you wish you were the flicker of firelight dancing across his skin, you’re not far behind, as his hands find their way from your hips to your tits, caressing them like he always did, giving you everything and far more. You need something to ground yourself, a way to keep from shattering under the emotions running wild in your mind, intensified with every thrust Jungkook drives into your core. So, you grip his wrists, not to stop him, but to urge him on—to make him pinch harder.

Maybe you need the bite of it, maybe you want him to not just take away the ache, but be the reason you remember this night years from now.

“Jungkook, I’m so close, oh my god.”

The grunt that escapes him reverberates through you, nearly pushing you over the edge on its own, but he slows, setting a gentler pace as he shifts so his mouth can worship you from your breasts to your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys across your delicate skin.

You know the two of you will be marked by the end of the night, and right now, that’s all you want. You want to leave yourself etched into his skin, to reclaim your place not only in his heart but in every part of him.

In this moment, it’s like you’re finally whole—not just because Jungkook fills you completely, but because he completes you. He always has, and while you’ve both been damned by what happened before, it feels like redemption might be close.

“You’re…” Jungkook murmurs against your skin, his warm breath searing into you, though you need him to finish his sentence, need to hear it.

But as you cradle his head in your hands and he lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes are hooded, yet glistening, and your throat tightens at the sight too.

Face to face, you share the same breath, as if you share one heart, your small hands gripping his face as if you never want to let go, his hands cradling your small head with the tenderness that once meant everything. It’s as though you feel what he’s trying to say—but somehow, you don’t.

There’s still a wall between you, still something unsaid screaming in the silence that just can’t seem to go away, and you’re sure he feels it too. He feels it as your orgasm builds, feels it in the desperation of his own thrusts, in the matching, agonising, wordless ache in both your eyes, feels it when you both shatter together in a burst of all colours and stars in existence. 

And then, all that’s left is pain.

He hasn’t kissed you, and you didn’t kiss him either.

And as he pulls his now-softening length from your still-pulsing cunt and reaches for a tissue from his trousers off the floor to help you clean up, he silently gets dressed. 

Dresses as if he’s ashamed, dressed as if he regrets it, dressed as if you’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

So you do the same, slipping into your clothes before lying back down, shifting as close to the wall as possible, facing away from him to give him some peace where none is found. 

The tears falling silently onto the pillow should only be from the shivering that’s returned, a byproduct of the cold that momentarily disappeared but is now back as if you were never meant to feel warm again.

Finally, exhaustion sweeps over you. Physically. Mentally. And everything in between. 

And as Jungkook lies down too, once more pulling you close and wrapping you in the warmth you crave more than you can bear to admit, your eyes fall shut almost effortlessly.

Maybe sleeping it all away will make it better, forgotten as a dream that never was.

Forgotten, like everything good that once was but now isn’t anymore.

Forgotten, like the tear you feel slide down the back of your neck, disappearing into the fabric of your shirt where all your sins and failures lie buried.

01 • 02 • masterlist • 04

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[weebsinstash]

So back on my pervert shit, you know what I've been thinking of?

Red string soulmates Reader x Lucifer except not only are you extremely nervous and hesitant and scared of him when you first meet and keep completely shooting him down and rejecting him, but, just as you two are starting to become close and you're actually legitimately starting to like him, it's Extermination Day and he arrives just in time to watch a holy spear pierce your heart and you just straight up fucking DIE

... which then leads to him developing a divinity kink for you when it turns out your soul was redeemed and you're now an angel in Heaven and he starts viewing you as like an ACTUAL "true" angel, basically viewing you almost akin to God, and becomes actually genuinely religiously obsessed with you

Lucifer just absolutely inconsolable after your death, lying in bed every single day completely unable to get up except for the bathroom, drinking eating crying in bed all day long, and then... one night... he dreams of you, and you look... so glorious, dressed all in white, with beautiful white wings and a gentle glowing halo. You look radiant, downright regal, and at the sight of this vestige of you, he's throwing himself to the ground on his hands and knees begging for you to forgive him for being such a worthless waste of life, how he would give his own soul to make you real again, how he would do ANYTHING if it meant seeing the real you again

and then you touch him. You all but drop to your knees to embrace him, pulling him into your chest and holding him close. You're crying too as you apologize for leaving him feeling so heartbroken and alone, how it's been so hard for him, how much he was looking forward to getting to know you as his soulmate and you blame yourself for pushing him away and then dying, taking that away from him. You stroke his hair and pet his back as he feels your tears dropping onto his head

...but it's all too real. The touch is all too real, the smell of you is all too real. Lucifer suddenly pulls away to look at you with huge eyes. He can feel your soul when the two of you touch. This angelic appearance of yours is just too radiant and grand for him to possibly imagine, at least in his eyes. He. Can. Feel. You. You're still alive, just, not in Hell, and somehow, some way, your souls met in the plane of dreams, and now he knows, definitively, that you're in Heaven, that you're an angel now, and here's the devil himself looking at you like you're a god

Imagine having THE actual Lucifer Morningstar himself, the Angel of the Bottomless Pit, a man you once thought wasnt even real, an actual divine creature older than humanity itself, all but crawling on his hands and knees to prostrate himself in front of you, kneeling, looking up at you weeping tears of joy while he says with complete sincerity and absolute bliss that YOU must be the entire reason he was born. He's clutching at his chest, sobbing that you've made him whole again, that the entire reason he's alive must surely be for this moment, to meet you and serve you in every single way that he can. You weren't born to be his soulmate; he was born to be yours, to serve you and elevate you to your true potential and glory and forever shield your immaculate grace

Then he wakes up, and all he can think about is that you need him, immediately, whatever it takes. He was born to serve you, be by your side, and every single breath he takes and move that he makes that doesn't serve the purpose of aiding you is an unforgivable transgression. He's just, IMMEDIATELY making his way up to Heaven, because what the fuck are they going to do?

"HI, I'm here to pick up my angel ^^"

"Lucifer you can't just come in here and take a soul, they live here now, there's a balance-"

"OK then I can just start killing you all until I find them :)"

"Oh, uh, you know what, that's so funny haha I just got a text from the heavenly father, my mistake, you're cool, please take this single soul back down to Hell with you and leave the rest of us alone :')"

You're down in Hell again but, as an angel now, and Luci's calling you everything from "my love, my angel, my purpose, your holiness, your grace, your saintliness" and following you around like a duckling. Is there anything you need? Are you cold? Are you hungry? Do you need him to carry you from room to room because you're "too pure to soil your feet by touching the ground"? He basically becomes your protector and your priest and may even change how he dresses to reflect your angelic garb (and may actually become extremely resistant to letting you wear anything else or anything differently. This man catches you in a pair of denim jeans and he's just, magicking you back into saintly robes because "he doesn't want you to dirty yourself with anything but the greatness that you deserve")

Something something "he develops a fetish for basically every part of your body and yes he does eventually wash your bare feet in a very religiously coded and horny manner" something something "horny idolatry" something something

He considers himself simultaneously unworthy of you yet the most qualified and deserving to be at your side; the other half that makes him whole yet an existence greater than his own. He may feel he doesn't deserve to even touch you and is just satisfied staring at you for hours on end, even as you sleep, but if you touch him? All but groaning and having his eyes roll back, completely offering his body to you for you to touch and do whatever you please

You're uncomfortable but you form the opinion that losing you must have deeply, deeply traumatized the poor man and that this is a coping mechanism, and even if that may be true, he continues to shock you and maybe even gross you out with the lengths he goes with his newfound devotion. You try to, not exactly feed into his delusions but you don't outright reject him. You try to gently guide him back to how he used to be, and, maybe you can get him to tone some things down, but, it's purely because you asked and he'll do basically anything you say at this point. Emotionally, psychologically, he's a different Lucifer than the one you first met, and he doesn't want to go back to even remotely considering you anything other than his divine purpose for living

Oh, but of course, he's still your official soulmate as well, so even if he is essentially your servant now, he still wants to be your husband. I'm torn between whether he'd want like, the absolute LARGEST wedding possible so that all of Hell soon knows of you, or, if he'd want a private ceremony of only you and him so that no one else can gaze upon your splendor.

He's still gotta dick you down too, of course. He ever finds you self pleasuring and he'll all but want to lash himself for "failing to tend to all of your needs", "leaving tou unfulfilled". Mf is over here saying grace before he eats you out. Tell him any fetish or kink you have and he'll do it, no questions asked, unless it's something that involves causing YOU pain. You could whip him like Jesus until the skin is flaying off and he'll do nothing but thank you and wet his face with tears of pure ecstasy

Although, he's not, completely 100% obedient. He'll still kill people who he feels have "wronged you" even if you ask him not to. Oh, a car drove by way too fast and he had to dive in front of you so you didn't become soaking wet? The driver will be tortured and killed. Someone insults you? Tortured and killed. Did someone pr something cause Lucifer to miss out on doing something with you? Tortured. Killed.

You know how in Hell's Greatest Dad, Lucifer is able to duplicate himself? Imagine waking up from a nap searching around everywhere because, for some reason, you just can't find him, and you find a set of large double doors for a room you don't remember being there before and you catch him literally preaching gospel to a room of himself??? Like??? You walk in and Real Lucifer is at the pulpit giving an actual sermon that is definitely very obviously about YOU and a crowd of himself is openly weeping and clasping their hands together, and they all turn to face you with expressions of wonder and awe

If you have some sort of personal symbol or sigil you used for yourself, sort of like how Alastor has specific runes for his magic, Lucifer would all but make pendants and rosaries with the same sigil. He'll put your symbol on his robes, on pennants hanging up in his castle (I'm just assuming lil man has a castle somewhere), he'll wear your symbol around his neck like a cross, holding it between his hands while he prays to you, often in front of you, unless you are massively uncomfortable with it; then he'll just do it in private or in his head

You could be sitting playing video games on your phone and he'll just, lay his head in your lap and purr, delighted just to be with you, especially touching you, and if you briefly take a hand and pet through his hair or stroke along his back he's shivering with pleasure.

He won't allow any harm to come to you so long as he's by your side, and both of you are basically immortal souls, not to mention you're actually bound together cosmicly as soulmates, so... expect to be spending plenty of time having The Lucifer Morningstar adoring and fawning over you with every last ounce of energy that he has, and God forbid, no, may Your Grace forbid that anyone else dare to worship you with the same level of fondness that he does because Lucifer won't hesitate to take that person, that false worshipper, and tear them to pieces, sacrificing their body and soul to an altar he's made special for worshipping you like he KNOWS you truly deserve ❤️

[strawberryshortcake1495]

This scene through Wendy’s POV 💚

I glance at the horizon and start to make my way over to my bike when Dipper stops me. “Look, Wendy, about earlier…in the heat of the moment, I might’ve said some dumb things and…can’t we just pretend none of that ever happened?” I turn around to see him facing away from me. “Please?” I can’t help feeling bad for the kid. He’s had a crush on me since forever, I mean he wasn’t slick about it. Not in the slightest. If I were like any other teen, I’d laugh and make fun of him before leaving on my bike but that’s not who I am. This kid is a real human, and I’ll be damned if I hurt a fellow human like myself. So, I slowly walk back to him and place a hand on his shoulder. “Dude…dude, it’s okay. I always…kinda knew.” I confessed. This takes him by surprise and he turns around to look at me. “Wait, you did?” He asks. “Yeah, man. I mean, you think I can’t hear that stuff you’re constantly whispering under your breath?” I said giggling, trying to cheer him up. This does the opposite effect however, as he hides his face with his hands and sits down on a nearby log. I sit down next to him. He’s so small compared to me. It was almost endearing, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “Listen, Dipper. I’m like…SUPER flattered but…” I hesitated but decided to keep going because he needed to know. “I’m too old for you. I mean, you know that, right?” I said, trying to keep my voice as soft as possible to lessen the blow. Dipper groans and clutches his face with one of his hands. “Mabel said confessing would make me feel better.” He said. I take a moment to consider his words and decide the best course of action is to provide as much comfort as possible. “Well, how do you feel?” I asked. “Anxious, scared…” He scratches his arms. “…and kinda itchy.” That draws a laugh out of me. Dipper is an awkward kid, but that’s what I like about him. “Dude…don’t be itchy, man. Let me tell you something: this summer was SUPER boring until you showed up. I had more fun with you than like- practically anybody else, and if you stop being my friend, I would like- throw myself into the bottomless pit.” Every word I uttered was true. I just wanted him to know that this won’t change anything, and that it shouldn’t change anything. “So things…won’t be too awkward now?” He asks. “I just wrestled MYSELF, dude! THAT was awkward!” It’s a long story. “If you can handle that monster, you can handle a little awkwardness.” The words flow out of my mouth like a symphony. I don’t even know how I’m doing this. I’m not usually this cool. Hah, don’t get your head in the clouds, Wendy. Dipper lets a suppressed chuckle and we’re both just staring at eachother until he extends his hand. “Friends?” He says. “Yeah, dude! Friends!” I said, pushing him a little too hard than I intended and sending him off the log. I tense up for a moment but my shoulders slump once I see him rise. We both laugh together, this time it sounded more sincere. I reached my hand out and helped him up. I then realized I should probably be heading home now. So I walk off to my bike. “Oh, and hey, Dipper. See you for movie night tomorrow. Your place this time, okay?” I tie my helmet around my head, hop on my bike, and ride off into the sunset. I glance behind me and see Dipper’s face had changed into a somber expression. My heart tenses up and I look back at the sunset. Poor kid, he just got rejected. I just hope what I said was able to soften the impact.

[nottyourlover]

Habit.

summary: a rare lazy morning with azriel.

warnings: none?

word count: 344.

You and Azriel had spent the night tangled up in each other's arms, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets and soft pillows. As the morning light filtered through the window, you slowly stirred awake, your bodies still intertwined in a mess of sheets and limbs.

Azriel's eyes fluttered open, and he found himself staring into your face, your eyes closed, your breathing deep and even. He couldn't help but smile as he watched you sleep, admiring the soft curve of your cheek and the way your hair spilled over the pillow like a waterfall.

You stirred slightly, your eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. You smiled sleepily, admiring how his eyes changed from brown to green in the morning light. "Morning," you murmured, yawning.

"Good morning," Azriel replied, his voice low and gentle. "You look beautiful."

You grinned, rolling over onto your back and stretching languidly. "Flattery will get you everywhere," you teased, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Azriel chuckled, tracing a finger along your jaw, then to your collarbone. "Is that so?" he asked, his voice playful. "I'll have to keep that in mind."

You lay there for a few moments longer, just enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies and the soft rustle of the sheets. Azriel leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling back.

"You know," you said, breaking the comfortable silence. "I could get used to waking up like this."

Azriel smiled, his eyes twinkling with faint amusement. "Me too," he replied. "Although I have to admit, I wouldn't mind waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs every now and then."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You and your appetite," you teased. "I swear, you're like a bottomless pit."

Azriel grinned, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Hey, it's a healthy warrior's appetite," he said, his voice laced with humor.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile belied your exasperation. "Whatever you say, Az," you said. "But if you keep eating like that, I might have to start hiding the bacon."

Azriel raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. "Is that a threat, my love?" he asked, his voice smooth.

You laughed, sitting up and throwing a pillow at him. "You wish," you said, eyes dancing with mirth. You reached for the dress you were wearing last night, the chill of the morning air causing goosebumps. You felt Azriel's eyes boring into the bare flesh of your back, the small of your waist as you bent over, and from the resounding laugh that echoed down the mating bond, you figured he was enjoying the view. "But seriously," you said, trying to ignore the tingling on your skin. "We should probably get up at some point, we have that meeting with Rhys and Mor today. You should thank Cass too, since he was just so kind to give me the day off," you smirked, knowing the general would be extremely preoccupied with Nesta, and the little gift you bought her while shopping in The Rainbow.

Azriel groaned, pulling the blankets up around his chin. "Don't mention Cass right now." he said. "Besides, Rhys loves us, can't we just stay here forever?"

You shook your head, laughing. "As much as I would love that, I think a certain bub we also have to babysit this morning won't be happy. You love Nyx," you said, reaching over to quickly give him a peck on the lips. "But don't worry, we can always come back here later."

Azriel grinned, pulling you back as he kissed you again. "Oh, I like the sound of that," he said. "Maybe we can even make it a habit."

You blushed, feeling a rush of heat spread through your body. "You're incorrigible."

Azriel just grinned, pulling you back down onto the bed and wrapping his arms around you. "And you love it," he whispered.

[univvrse]

we're in all the magazines (chapter 5)

chapter title: because i wanna be your boyfriend

hawks x dabi

There were four members of the band 'Puncture'; each with deeply buried secrets. Dabi, Hawks, Shigaraki and Mr Compress.

Each about to find out things about eachother that will change their relationship as band mates forever.

previous can be found on my masterlist

on my ao3 if you'd prefer

1.1k words

Everything was amplified. This was the first thing Dabi noticed when he stepped onto the stage. The lights he had grown accustomed to became suns. He could feel the crowd’s excitement, their anticipation. Every sound and movement became one and separated all at once. There was no question of “what if something goes wrong” plaguing his mind. He was impossibly present, and yet still untethered.

When the music began, Dabi’s instincts took over. He didn’t even have to think. Their opening number was Poison Heart, a song Dabi could’ve sung from his grave. It was one of the first songs he’d performed with his band, far before Keigo joined. There were no words to describe how Dabi felt in the moment. He wasn’t emotional, it was more like he was part of the music.

Their audience tonight was louder than all the ones before them added together and multiplied by ten, but the members of Puncture hardly registered them. Everything besides the music had faded out, leaving them in a world fabricated by their own cacophony.

Keigo’s eyes strayed to Dabi more times than he would willingly admit. There was something addictive about the way he held himself, the way he moved, the way he manoeuvred himself in such a perfect manner, anyone who saw him must think every action of his was meticulously rehearsed, pre-planned. What was so gorgeous about him was that almost nothing was.

Dabi grew progressively wilder, damn-near prowling across the stage, shooting suggestive looks to members of the crowd, drinking in their desperate screams. His chest vibrated, the cries fuelling him. It felt as though he’d unlocked a bottomless pit of energy. He found a perfect balance between shouting and singing. A sort of melodic screaming.

Each song went by perfectly. Not even Tomura could possibly have had any complaints. They were all perfectly in time with each other, instruments were tuned to perfection, Dabi’s voice was perfectly suited to every song.

“Okay! We have one last song to perform for you guys!” Dabi’s voice seemed to ricochet through the room. He waited for the cheering to die down, “I think you guys are gonna like this one!” he looked over to Keigo, tapping his mic and cocking his head. Keigo stared back through half-lidded eyes, nodding when he realised it was a silent gesture to ask if he was ready to back the song.

“One two three four!”

Puncture began to play. Dabi lips split into a heinous smirk as he sang, “Hey, little girl,” the members had collectively agreed to perform this song with more hardcore sound than how it’s originally played, “I wanna be your boyfriend.” Dabi shrugged off the leather jacket he’d been wearing, allowing it to drop to the floor, “Sweet little girl,” the singer turned to his guitarist, “I wanna be your boyfriend.”

Keigo’s eyes widened and trained in on Dabi, staring unapologetically. Gaze still honed on Dabi, he lowered his mouth to his own mic and joined, “Do you love me babe?” Dabi traipsed towards Keigo, one hand gripping his microphone, while the other reached to outstretched fists protruding from the sea of fans before them, “What do you say?” Dabi jumped back, pumping his own fist in the air, “DO YOU LOVE ME BABE?” screams erupted at the rapid switch in energy. It was all Keigo could do not to throw his prized guitar to the floor and join Dabi, “WHAT CAN I SAY”

Keigo turned from his mic to fully face Dabi. They decided he would only sing backing for the verses, that way he could better focus on his guitar. Dabi continued to drift towards the blonde, still pausing after every few steps to stomp, jump or headbang at any parts he felt needed a physical boost. Keigo was shamelessly staring, too drugged out to care who saw his eyes travel from Dabi’s face down to where his bullet-belt met his wife-beater top. With every exaggerated movement, the top would ride up, proudly showcasing a v-line and a happy trail. Keigo wondered what that’d look like at eye level, Dabi towering above him, head thrown back, white-knuckling blonde locks and letting out sounds the devil himself would cover his ears upon heari-

Keigo was yanked from his fantasy by a touch to his jaw. Lightning seemed to dance over the affected skin. He had never been more grateful to the guitar in his for arms keeping his hands so busy. He thanked whatever God was above that they had opted for the more rowdy sound with this song, hoping it masked his shakiness as something actually intentional.

Another touch, this one slow and unmistakable, tracing from his jaw to his collarbone. Keigo whipped around to see Dabi standing behind him, slightly off to the right. The boys couldn’t pull their eyes from each other. It felt like there was a current between them, some sort of electric buzz that amplified the energy they created together. Keigo’s guitar grew impossibly louder, and Dabi’s voice strengthened. Dabi winked at Keigo and spun to face the audience, “I WANNA BE YOUR BOYFRIEND.”

Keigo stepped forward, pretended to forget he had a microphone of his own, and leant into Dabi’s mic instead, attempting to match his energy for their shared verse, “DO YOU LOVE ME BABE? WHAT DO YOU SAY?” he strummed his guitar vigorously enough to break the skin of his fingertips, “DO YOU LOVE ME BABE?” Dabi was now staring intently at Keigo, their faces separated by nothing but a mere few inches of air and the cold metal of the microphone.

Blood trickled from Keigo’s fingers, dirtying the strings he expertly played. He could hardly feel it. Up close, he could finally study Dabi’s face, his pupils blown, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead, he looked positively insane. There was a sort of insatiable look of hunger behind his eyes that made Keigo’s head spin. He needed Dabi in every way imaginable. He sang with the intensity of a man sentenced to death who had been told he would be spared if his performance shook the world, as if his life hung in the quality of this performance. Keigo couldn’t bear it. It took every inch of willpower in him not to close the torturous gap between them.

The song was nearing its end. Dabi had resumed his crazed jumping, punching at the air above him, still by Keigo’s side, “HEY LITTLE GIRL, I WANNA BE YOUR BOYFRIEND” he moved impossibly closer to Keigo, “SWEET LITTLE GIRL, I WANNA BE YOUR BOYFRIEEEEND” he ended the song with his renowned scream, staring provocatively at Keigo.

Fuck willpower.

Keigo’s hands left his guitar and moved to Dabi’s face, intertwining his bloody fingers with black hair, surging his face forwards to meet the singer’s lips with his own. The crowd went wild, filling the room with cheers and wolf whistles. Dabi didn’t even take a second to react, immediately leaning into the kiss, grabbing roughly at Keigo’s face, mic still in one hand. His tongue slid from his mouth to prod at Keigo’s lips, which parted obediently.

[fantasyqueen502]

Lady Strong

Word count: 652

Summary: Aemond x f!reader. Eldest sister of her brothers (Strong). She gets quality time with her uncle who she hasn't seen in years. A short story idea that most likely has grammatical errors. Let me know. Feel free to comment, like, and enjoy.

Rated: PG-13

Warnings: Sparing (Combat), mentions of injury, and sexual/misogynistic language.

"Is that?" Speech evades her as the man turns with an eye patch. It was Aemond. He had definitely grown. Shoulders broad and loaded with muscle. "Come for training nephews!" He stares at the brothers who coward under his gaze. "You can watch Lady Strong." He baits. She bites stumping over to the fence. "What of me Uncle?"

"Wouldn't want to ruin such a pretty face…" he chuckles to himself. "…again."

A scar from her chin through her pretty lips along the apple of her cheek. A reminder of their fight as children. Standing over her brother who screamed and cried their uncle holding up a rock threatening to kill him. She got the small blade Daemon taught her to hide in her boot. She took his eye and he took her beauty. Many suits compared her image to inbred dogs; her lips forever parted to show her clenched teeth. A constant snarl on her face.

Climbing over the fence. Her brothers are trying to hold her back.

"Your sword."

"No."

"You misunderstood me. I wasn't asking permission." She smirks, taking the end of his blade. Guiding it to her hip making a small nic in her dress. Relaxing his sword. His heart jumps at the loud screech of fabric. Splitting her dress in two allowing a view of her bare leg up to her thigh. He dares not to fall for a trap. A sword hidden under her dress strapped to her thigh. The guards shouts for her.

"What would your Husband think? Of this harlot display."

"It's adorable. You think I would settle to be owned by some boring man."

"A shame. Unsurprising." He smirks.

Hitting his sword up. "Thought this a challenge." She snaps. Advancing. "Sound like my ladies."

Swords sang as the two danced. Evenly matched. Striking her sword hard, punching her in the face. Whipping her head back to her blood mixing with dirt, she laughs.

"Still hit like a girl." She cackles. Twirling her sword blocking his swing, kicking his knee out forcing him to kneel. Striking him in the chest with her foot. Searching for his weapon he growls as she sits on him. Smirking down at him. Lips painted red turning her head to spit was of blood and saliva.

"Y/N" The guards shout.

Leaning forward. "Didn't know you were so happy to see me." She breathes purposefully placing her full weight on his member. He growls, biting his tongue until his mouth is filled with the taste of copper. She drives her sword next to his head. "Till next time, uncle one eye."

Sir Cristen walks over and she eyes him up and throws her dagger at him.

"Clean it would ya " she instructs.

Stepping over to give the prince a hand, Aemond angrily slaps it away. Glaring down the trio of bastards the brother hastily helps their sister over the fence nervously seeking glaces at their uncle.

"I'll notify the queen of this assault." He says.

Anger, fury, grinding his teeth, but why did he feel the heat in his loins. The feeling of blood pooling downward leaving him lightheaded. Images of her dirty face with her eyes a bottomless pit for him to fall into. Expecting her to cry as he punched her face she never missed a beat. Helaena definitely would ball her eyes out if she was tripped into her backside. She was always like this. Growing up, rough housing with them. She was even tougher than even Aegon and unafraid of dirt and mud unfazed by the pain of bruised knuckles and skinned elbows and knees. as her many dresses were surely ruined.

He wanted to tear the garments from her. How dare she taunt him, how dare she teased him with a show of her long legs with the slit she tore into her own dress.

How dare she not give all of herself to him.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Unforgivable | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! I don’t know where this came from lol

If you like what you read throw me a reblog so others can find my stuff 🥰

Warnings: reader injury, blood

—————————

Bucky stood frozen outside your door, knowing he had no business being there, no right to come to you for help. And yet, he found himself standing outside your bedroom in the middle of the night. A deep-seeded desperation for your gentle hands burned inside him as visions of his nightmare flashed through his mind. But he didn’t deserve your comfort- he knew that without a doubt. A bottomless pit ate through his chest as he realized that this was your last straw, and he’d lost you forever. Grief barreled through him, stealing any and all hope he’d held for the future.

A familiar anxiety tightened his throat. Without you, he was completely and utterly alone. He’d said time and time again that he’d rather die than not have you in his life, and in this moment, he knew he hadn’t been exaggerating. He couldn’t imagine living the rest of his life without hearing you laugh at one of his dumb jokes or feeling your soft touch after a nightmare ravaged his psyche. He truly believed you to be the kindest person he’d ever met. He appreciated you, cherished you, loved you. 

And he hated himself for ruining everything. He couldn’t believe he’d been so callous, so unflinchingly cruel to you- the person he cared about most. The shame he’d successfully put to rest with your help now clawed its way out its grave, ready to rip Bucky to shreds.

It wasn’t like him to yell. It wasn’t like him to get upset with anyone but himself. But he’d admonished you, berated you- in front of everyone.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Bucky stormed up the ramp to the quinjet, carrying your bloody body in his strong arms.

He let your duffel bag slip from his shoulder and fall to the ground, punctuating his pointed question. He knew to expect a witty retort or a sarcastic comment, but stopped you before you even had the chance. He instantly carried you in the direction of the med team, the shiny metal of his vibranium arm growing ever-slicker with your blood . 

“Ow-hey. Watch it, Barnes”, you groaned as pain radiated through your side, “Take it easy on the stab wound, would ya?” Sharp flames of agony burned against your skin, but you still managed to shoot Bucky a wink. Even when your life was at stake, your hands shaking as pain ravaged your body, you could always come up with a quip to make Bucky laugh. He was a sucker for your sense of humor, your ability to never take things too seriously. 

But this was different. 

His eyes were dark and his jaw tense, a sharp scowl drawing his features into an intimidating mask. “You’re bleeding. I’m keeping pressure, just-” he let out sharp huff, his voice hardening, “don’t try that with me right now. Lay down”. He helped you onto the treatment table and took a few steps away, keeping his back turned and his arms crossed while the med team got to work. He refused to let himself turn around, refused to look at you, even as he heard you hiss at the sutures closing up your side. 

It wasn’t like Bucky to keep his distance, especially when you were hurt. He treated your every scrape and bruise as fatal, caring for you as though a sprained ankle would end your life. But as you laid there in agony, clenching your teeth as a needle dug in and out of your knife wound, Bucky paid you no mind. He always held your hand when you received triage care; whether you needed only two stitches or a bullet carved out of your body, Bucky was there.

“Hey, Buck… would you-” another sharp pierce of the needle rendered you breathless, “ow- would you come here? I could use a hand to- ow, fuck… I could use a hand to hold”.

Bucky turned slowly, shooting you a look you’d never seen him wear before. Something about your best friend seemed off. He was cold, tense- a quiet rage setting him on edge. He took a seat on the edge of the table in a begrudging fashion, never offering you his hand. This wasn’t the Bucky you knew. 

“Is everything… is everything okay, Buck? You seem-” 

And that was all it took. The deep frustration Bucky tried to reign in broke free suddenly, spilling over the dam and drowning you in a sea of his rage.

“No. Things aren’t okay- what’s wrong with you?!”

You flinched.

“What were you thinking back there?! Or were you even thinking at all?”

Sam, Nat, and Wanda halted their hushed conversation, their stares suddenly landing on you and Bucky. They eyed each other before settling their gaze back on you, confusion coloring their faces. They’d never heard Bucky speak to you with anything but warmth or kindness. No matter the day he’d had, no matter how many bullets he’d taken, he’d only ever been gentle with you. Never before had you bared the brunt of his frustrations. You didn’t know this Bucky. 

Even the med team stopped to stare.

You didn’t know how to react. A surprised kind of smile stretched across your face, “Um… I- I don’t know. I was just-”

“Jesus Christ. Did you even think about the ramifications of your actions? Did you even consider that there might be consequences?!” Bucky stood suddenly, abandoning you yet again. “I gave you clear instructions- I told you what to do, and all you had to do was listen! All you had to do was- why do you think you can defy orders?! Do you think the rules don’t apply to you?!”

Any hint of a smile vanished from your face. Your head drooped and your eyes found the floor as you curled in on yourself, protecting yourself from Bucky’s wrath. The sharp pain of your half-closed stab wound no longer mattered. You were numb. Tears pooled in your eyes and fell freely against the floor, splattering onto Bucky’s boots. 

“I’m sorry…” you managed to whisper, your head still bowed. Every part of you felt like a dog who’d been kicked, like a loyal companion betrayed.

Bucky stalked off toward the back of the jet, distancing himself from the prying eyes of the team. And from you.

Bucky cringed at the memory of his rampage on the jet- the way the light left your eyes, the way you tried to protect yourself from him. He never wanted you to fear him, to feel like you weren’t safe with him. He’d heard your voice break as you delivered your unnecessary apology, and hadn’t been able to get the sound out of his mind since.

And yet he stood outside your door, his brow still damp with sweat elicited by yet another nightmare. He knew he didn’t deserve your kindness, but desperation drove him to knock anyway. His vibranium knuckles lightly tapped against the wood like they did every night, and if you didn’t open the door, he would’ve understood.

But you opened the door. Almost instantly.

Bucky couldn’t seem to meet your eyeline for more than a few seconds, but he clocked your red rimmed eyes. You’d been crying. Because of him. Each glance he landed on your face chiseled away a piece of his heart until it lay crumbled and cracked in his hollow chest.

He stumbled over his words as they tried to exit his mouth all at once, bumping into each other in a clumsy mess. “Hey- hi, um… I know- I know that you… you’re mad at me. And you should be. And I know I shouldn’t be here- I really really shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be coming to your room and asking for your help, but I just… I can’t-”

Without hesitation, you motioned for him to come in, “Nightmare?”

Bucky nodded, reliving the moment he’d woken up with his heart in his throat, “I’m sorry to wake you. I just… I had this dream that-”

“You didn’t wake me,” you sniffled, wiping your eyes with your tshirt, “I couldn’t sleep.” 

Bucky’s heart sank. He’d yelled at you, scared you, broken your heart. And rounding out the long list of offenses, he prevented you from getting the rest you needed. 

On any other night, Bucky would’ve crawled into your bed and molded his body around yours, holding you close as though he feared you’d disappear. He would’ve let the sound of your heartbeat ground him as your fingers tangled gently in his hair. He would’ve told you every detail of the nightmare that sent him rushing to your room. But not tonight. He, instead, stood at the foot of your bed, anxiously biting at his cuticles. His teeth dug into the skin, slowly tearing himself apart one fingernail at a time.

“Hey, hey- easy. You’re gonna-” you reached for his hand and tried to free it from his mouth, but halted your efforts when a sharp pain tore down your side. Your stitches protested the sudden movement and sent white-hot agony ripping through you, stealing your ability to speak.

Bucky’s heart lurched as he watched you almost double over in pain. He wanted to reach for you, to scoop you up and gently carry you to bed, but knew touching you was off limits after the way he’d treated you. He withdrew his finger from between his teeth and raked it through his hair, still avoiding your eyes. He suddenly wished he hadn’t opened this can of worms. He didn’t deserve to be in your bedroom, to have you worry about him and his nightmares.

“Well, come on. Let’s get you some sleep”, you slowly crawled back into bed, wincing with every move. 

But once again, Bucky found himself rooted in place. He wanted nothing more than to join you in bed, to tangle his body with yours and find safety in your embrace. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t allow himself to climb under your sheets, couldn’t let you to be so kind to him when he deserved nothing of the sort

“I’m so sorry-” he blurted out, unable to stop the tidal wave of apologies that crashed over him. “I’m so fucking sorry. I can’t believe I did that- I can’t believe I spoke to you that way-”

“Um. It’s- it’s fine, Buck. Like you said, I defied orders…” you forced a smile to the surface, “that’s on me. Won’t happen again.”

Bucky could’ve thrown up. You were blaming yourself, taking accountability for his overreaction. If any piece of his heart remained intact, your forced smile crushed it into tiny shards. He couldn’t believe how intensely he hated himself for showing you anything but kindness. 

“Please don’t- no, doll. It’s not. It’s not on you,” Bucky looked at you with pleading eyes, “Don’t apologize. Um, going into this mission, I was- I was scared. I knew how dangerous it was gonna be- how much riskier this job was than anything we’d ever done. And so when I gave out assignments… I was selfish. I told you to go left. I told you to go left and hit the western quadrant because there were fewer security measures there. Fewer operatives. Fewer opportunities for you to get hurt”.

With a pained groan, you dragged yourself out of bed and slowly made your way toward Bucky. He asked you not to get up, begged you to lie down and get the rest you needed, but knew you’d never listen. You were the same stubborn, headstrong woman that had ignored his orders and run headfirst into danger.

“Then I saw you in the northern quadrant all by yourself, taking on way more than your fair share of operatives and I… I lost my mind a little, I guess. And before I could get to you, you were on the floor. You were bleeding everywhere and I- I didn’t think I was going to get to you in time. I thought I was going to watch you die. I wasn’t angry with you, I was scared.”

He fell silent for a moment, allowing his eyes to drift toward the floor. The familiar stinging sensation in his eyes alerted him to oncoming tears, and only when he regained control of his emotions did he dare speak again.

“The thought of losing you drove me crazy.”

He cared for you so completely and totally that his fear for your safety had eclipsed everything in him. And when he knew you were okay, knew you were going to make it out alive, his fear overwhelmed him. The reality of what could’ve happened hit him like a truck and devoured him from the inside out, forcing him to lash out. 

“Bucky, I-”

“And I know that’s not an excuse- there is no excuse for the way I treated you or the things I said. I just needed you to know. And I promise that I will never speak to you like that again. I swear on my life.”

A sharp wince pulled your muscles taught as you lifted your arms, desperate to wrap Bucky in your embrace. He tried to protest, citing the 26 stitches that strained to keep your stab wound closed, but you wouldn’t take no for an answer. Cautiously, Bucky wrapped his arms around you. He treated you like glass, applying barely any pressure to your battered body.

“I’m so sorry, doll. You didn’t deserve any of it. I feel like it’s… I know it’s unforgivable. But I swear I’m gonna make it up to you, if you let me. I’ll-”

“Buck, stop.”

You slowly unwound from Bucky’s gentle embrace, hissing as your knife wound throbbed beneath your stitches. Bucky tried to once again usher you to bed, but your relationship with him eclipsed your pain. You weren’t allowing another second to pass without setting things straight, no matter how badly you were hurt.

“I know you’re sorry. I forgive you, okay? I mean, I don’t love being yelled at, and I don’t ever wanna be on the receiving end again...” you took Bucky’s face in your hands, ignoring the brutal rush of pain that flooded your senses. “Honestly, I was just worried about there being something wrong between us. I’ve hated this feeling, this uncomfortable distance. I know it’s only been a few hours, but I- I missed you. I was afraid we weren’t friends anymore. That’s why I was crying- that’s why I couldn’t sleep. I was afraid of losing you, too.”

Bucky felt his anxiety slowly loosen its grip from around his throat. A deep breath filled his lungs for the first time since he’d yelled at you, and the muscles in his shoulders began to slacken. He hated that he’d lashed out, that he’d made you feel so uncared for, when all he ever wanted to do was show you love. 

A strong yawn overtook you completely, and Bucky finally put his foot down. He asked you once more to get in bed, to give your body the rest it so desperately needed- and you finally agreed. You invited your best friend, your favorite person, the man you cared about more than anything, into your bed with open arms. 

He carefully wrapped the blankets around you and laid on your good side, resting his head against yours. He found your hand under the covers and gave it a squeeze, whispering one more apology before you told him to “knock it off, Barnes”.

Finally, Bucky laughed. He let a genuine smile spread across his face and nuzzled closer to you, finally feeling the weight lift from his shoulders. He knew he’d carry a tiny portion of his guilt with him for a while, knew the look on your face when he yelled at you would never leave his mind. But he was okay with that. 

He thought you might’ve finally drifted off to sleep, but realized he was wrong when you piped up. “Hey, what was your nightmare about? We never got to talk about it.”

Bucky let out a labored sigh, “it was about you. You were laying on the floor, bleeding out. And I kept trying- I was running as fast as I could and pushing past people, but… no matter what I did, I couldn’t– I couldn’t get to you. I watched the life leave your body. And when I finally reached you, you were cold.”

A silent tear rolled down his cheek, falling onto the pillow below. You gave his hand an extra squeeze and inched closer to him, no matter how badly it hurt you to move. You needed to be as close to him as possible, needed him to feel your warmth. The sound of your steady heartbeat brought an instant smile to Bucky’s face; that sound was home.

“Well, I’m okay, Buck. You got to me, and I’m okay. And everything between us is okay. I’m not going anywhere”.

Bucky’s hand squeezed yours once again. Knowing you, it wasn’t hard to believe that you’d forgive him. You were the kind, understanding person who’d seen through Bucky’s harsh, icy exterior and warmed him from the inside out. What he couldn’t believe, however, was how lucky he was to know you, to have you in his life. And as you drifted off to sleep next to him, he resolved to tell you how he really felt, how deeply and unconditionally he loved you. 

————————

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[matt-erialgirl]

Can u write a Matt Murdock x reader based of a song called “What have I done” by Dermot Kennedy

Been eons BUT I HAVE IT NOW @multifandomgirllol

this is Matt being all up in his feelings

Lavender and strawberries.

Matt’s eyes slowly peeled open as he let the scent of your hair engulf his senses. A smile subconsciously pulled at his lips as his heart swelled in his chest.

He had one arm under your head - numb from the weight and skin feeling like it was being pricked by a million needles, but he didn’t care - and his other arm was around your middle, pulling your back flush against his front. As his smile grew wider, he pushed his face into your hair and inhaled deeply.

He could stay there all day, buried in the sweet scent of your hair and skin, holding you close and just feeling your presence.

He was in love with you and he knew it. It excited him, it warmed him up from the inside out and it scared the living hell out of him. He never thought he was capable of falling so hard for anyone, but then again, how could he not when it’s you?

The sound of your sweet and soft voice, the feel of your warm skin under his fingers, your beating heart in his ears. He wanted nothing more than to commit each and every part of you to memory; to drown in his love for you. It was stifling, how much his feelings for you pressed down on his lungs and his heart. It overwhelmed him in the best way.

Part of him wondered if he was deserving of loving like this and of being loved by you. He felt selfish sometimes, thinking that loving him was like throwing yourself into a bottomless pit. Often, he felt like no matter what he did for you, how much he loved you, it wouldn’t be enough to make up for the pain he’d cause you. He knew he needed you; you made him better. You made him whole. You brought light into his life. But he couldn’t help feeling that he was tainting you by keeping you close.

But you were relentless. You refused to let him dwell on these thoughts.

“I love you as much as there is sand on every beach on this planet,” you’d tell him when he felt like the world was closing in around him, stroking his hair and his cheeks, reassuring him and meaning every word, “I will keep loving you so long as the oceans are still kissing said beaches. I will keep loving you even after there is nothing left of us on this earth.”

He smiled as he recalled those words, gently placing a soft kiss against your bare shoulder, his fingers lightly skimming up your skin.

“I will love you till forever,” he whispered against your skin, “and after.”

[murmuur-vanilja]

Fictober 2022.1 — The rational choice

Prompt number one: "I chose you" Original fiction: independant Rating: M Warnings: death, suicide

Closing my eyes only to be met with the void. My whole body is numb, and I can’t move my limbs. It’s a sharp sensation, a somatic intuition whispering that although I don’t feel anything, if I were to stand back up, I would cry my pain out loud. What I desire is only to breathe, yet I’m dizzy and if I were to open my eyes again, I’d see the world turning round and round. Closed eyes and the void itself is shaky. Nausea is overwhelmingly taking over my thoughts, and I don’t know if I shall faint, or if I shall throw up, or if nothing is going to happen to me. I’m hazily dozing, and although I already couldn’t truly feel myself, the couch I’m resting on seems to fade out of existence as well. Closed eyes and I’m sitting in the void. I didn’t expect such strong illness to enter my insides, yet I should’ve known, for I’m the one who caused it. This isn’t quite how I was picturing it; strangely enough, I hoped I wouldn’t suffer. Of course, I would, and such desperate denial brought me to sweat in the middle of the sense of reality I’ve long lost.

Suddenly, I’m wide awake. Everything is gone, down to the latest, slightest sensation. Only darkness remains, and a bottomless pit of void. I’m not scared, however, not any more. Either it’s too late, or I’m finally in time. Opening my eyes only to be met with the light. I can’t believe I can finally see it, after all I’ve gone through, after all the failed attempts at reaching the stars. If only I could feel a thing, I’d walk toward the brighter skies, I’d reach the sun. Opened eyes and the light is brighter and brighter. In the end, I don’t need to reach for it any more. I’ve gone far enough for it to come to me on its own, and I can only feel happiness surround me, creating a thicker aura as seconds fly by – although I’m not quite sure if time still exists.

Colours blur my vision as I’m so close to the final goal. Muffled sounds are shouted left and right – mostly left, I believe. A few senses are coming back to me, and I’m in a dull pain once more. I’ve seen the light, the shining stars, but now firefighters are here to keep me down. No one has ever wanted to grant me my final happiness that I’ve been searching for so long. The door is barred for I’ve lived through this scenario too many times to count. I’ve taken precautions, I’ve made new plans, I’ve created the perfect instance of light-seeking. Even then, they’ve found out, and they’re trying to put an end to my end. My only hope is I can slow them down long enough for my bliss to peak. Footsteps growing closer to me, but even the latest colours are fading, my senses are turning off again. Firefighters are trying to “save” me, but this is no life I want. Although I can’t feel it, they’re probably trying to move my body by now. I can’t hear anything.

I’m blinded. This is what I’ve been waiting for. I can make out a shape in the middle of my death aura; I’ve taken the pills that allow you to communicate with the Gods. They’re looking at me, at last, after I’ve prayed so many times. A single sentence resounds. “I chose you.” Everything disappeared now, forever, and in my last breath, I can only murmur back a feeble, yet truly ecstatic “thank you”.

[lizbotw]

Would you do Haikyuu headcanons for Daichi, Akaashi and Kuroo when their s/o surprises them at training camp?

Daichi, Akaashi, and Kuroo When Their S/O Surprises Them at Training Camp

yes, i would and i did! ;) i loved this idea plus you chose some of my all time favorite characters!!! also, i keep getting a little too carried away with these “headcanons” and they basically turn into scenario/one-shot outlines so oops? i should probably stop doing that or else it’ll keep taking me forever to finish them. i hope i did these how you wanted though and please enjoy them~ i spent a little too much time on making them perfect so please let me know if you like them! ♡

Sawamura Daichi

Listen, Daichi is EXHAUSTED and it’s only what? The third day of camp?

Karasuno is as lively as ever, pumped up with the desire to improve their techniques and win, and of course he’s in charge of keeping them all in check.

Late night practice after a grueling day of losses followed by even more losses during practice matches against the other schools, with dinner right after filled with him having to make sure everyone was eating enough to refill their bodies, but also not overeating (Nishinoya and his bottomless pit of a stomach). Please give this man a break.

In between practice matches when he’s feeling a little dejected with how the week is going so far and just how good all the other schools are, he’ll send you a message. And of course you have free time for him since it’s summer break and all that so you reply almost instantly! Especially because you know he doesn’t have that much time to text you before he has to get back to training.

Throughout the day you guys continue your little conversation and you don’t mind much if he can’t reply for a few hours since when he does get the chance to answer, his replies are sweet and filled with lots of information.

He obviously doesn’t care about double texting since he’s dating you and you guys are so comfortable with each other, and he’ll honestly send five long ass messages in a row without caring because he hopes that’ll be enough to make up for his long stretches of not being available.

If you asked him a question before, he’ll answer it, plus ask what you’re doing. And if you tell him what you’re doing, he’ll ask for more details, and then let you know what he’s doing as well, plus maybe even snap a few quick pics of the gym so you can see. He’ll make sure there’s lots of content for you to read and reply to whenever you want!

Right before he goes to bed, while everyone else is showering and getting ready to sleep, he’s the most available so you have your longest conversations then and he feels like it’s the perfect way to finish off such a hard day of practice.

Your conversation is just one continuous stretch throughout the day with long breaks in between, but with lots of meaningful content as you guys try to make up for the distance.

Similarly, he assumes you’re busy hanging out with your friends and enjoying summer break like everyone else, so if you take a little while to reply it’s fine.

However, what he doesn’t know is that you and your friends decided to take a trip to Tokyo for part of the week and hang out. After all, who wouldn’t want to go exploring in the big city with their best friends? Plus, it does get a little boring in Miyagi, being in the quiet countryside and all.

To pull off this idea, you enlisted the help of none other than Daichi’s right hand man—Sugawara!

You demand all the details from him and he gladly supplies them. Where exactly the training camp is being held, specific directions to get there in case you get lost, what the schedule is like, when the boys are dismissed for free time, and, most importantly, Daichi’s routine for the day so you know exactly where to expect him to be.

Suga finds the whole thing hilarious and tells you he feels like a detective stalking following Daichi around and documenting his every move to you. Hmm, he seems to be getting a little too into it but honestly you two love scheming together about how to bother Daichi so whenever you’re texting Suga about your plan you can’t help but giggle at how much effort you two are putting in to make this perfect.

Suga mentioned the idea of you coming to Coach Ukai and although he thought the idea was cute, he initially wasn’t sure if it would be okay with the other coaches since they had been the ones to so graciously allow Karasuno join their training camp.

Coach Nekoma overhears their conversation in the hallway and startles Ukai when he appears behind him and claps a hand on his shoulder with an eye crinkling smile, telling him it wouldn’t be a problem at all and he’ll let the other coaches know. As he goes to leave, he turns back to get in one last taunt, saying that maybe you being there will do some good for the Karasuno’s team spirit and they’ll actually win the next practice match, and then walks off with a hearty laugh as Ukai is fuming and shaking his fist saying that they were going to win anyway.

Suga, having stood there watching the whole thing unfold, is ecstatic and practically sparkling as he quickly texts you that your plan is a go! You can basically feel his blinding white smile through your screen and you’re sure your face looks similar when you read his message.

The day finally arrives and you and your friends are all packed up to head off to Tokyo and stay in a small motel for a few days. You choose to make a detour to head over to Shinzen High where the training camp is being held and are positively bursting with excitement at how surprised Daichi is going to be, plus you really miss him and can’t wait to finally be in his arms again.

At Shinzen High, you get a little lost as you explore the new place, weaving in and out of unfamiliar buildings and peaking your head inside gyms only to find them empty. After a while of this, you’re feeling pretty defeated and text Kiyoko to please come save you. She tells you what gym they’re in but you still have no idea how to get around this place and you can tell she’s laughing at you when she texts you back that it happened to her when she first arrived as well, but not to worry because she’s coming to meet you after you tell her which building you’re standing in front of.

As you stand there waiting and hoping you don’t look too suspicious (feeling awkward just being at a strange new school), you realize you can make out the faint sound of yelling somewhere in the distance and decide to walk towards it. As you get closer, it’s clear it’s the telltale sound of volleyball teams getting way too into their matches, and you smile, knowing that you’re almost to Daichi.

When you round a corner, you run right into Kiyoko, who went looking for you because even though she told you to stay put in one spot, you couldn’t help but go investigate the voices you heard. After a quick hug, she leads you back to the gym where everyone is practicing and you slip in unnoticed, the teams too focused on their matches to pay you much mind.

It seems as though Karasuno was on break, which was why Kiyoko was able to leave on such short notice, and you easily spot your boyfriend giving a pep talk to the team.

When they separate to go grab their water bottles, you sneak up on him.

“I hope you’re winning, captain,” you purr as you wrap your arms around his middle, leaning up to whisper in his ear.

He’s in the middle of taking a sip of water so he chokes, sputtering at hearing your voice so close. He coughs and wipes his mouth his the back of his hand as he turns around to face you, eyes wide.

“(Y/N)?!”

That seems to get the attention of the rest of the team and before you know it Hinata and Nishinoya are jumping around you and bombarding you with questions about what you’re doing here.

Daichi is watching this all unfold speechless when Suga comes up and claps a hand on his shoulder, grinning. “You’re just going to stand there and watch this? Your girlfriend came all the way here for you, go give her a proper hug! Or else Noya probably will.”

Oh wow, Daichi sure does not like that visual, and he marches forward, shooing Hinata and Nishinoya away from you.

You giggle at his sternness, but once he turns to face you, his eyes are soft and he reaches out to grab one of your hands and play with your fingers between his.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to surprise you, silly! Why else would I be here!”

You’re giving each other lopsided grins and he just can’t take it anymore, and pulls you into a hug. “Well, I’m glad you did then.” He usually tries to keep PDA at a minimum in front of the team because he knows how immature some of the underclassmen and Suga can be, but he doesn’t care much now and gives you a peck on your cheek.

You smile and bury your face in his chest as he shoots stern glares at the rest of the team who started to cheer for you two.

During the rest of the break, he keeps an arm around your waist and you two sit together, watching the other teams as he rests, and you talk about what you’ve each been up to the past few days, even though you basically already know from all the texts you two exchanged. You just want to enjoy each other’s company for now. The other Karasuno boys come up to talk to you once in a while too and everyone’s mood seems to be improved seeing you cheer up their captain so quickly.

Eventually it’s time for the next match and he has to go, but you tug on his arm and stop him before he leaves. “Make sure to win. I’m watching this time, don’t forget.” You throw in a wink for good measure and suddenly his cheeks are dusted with a light pink.

Karasuno ends up winning that match and puts up a good fight in the ones afterwards too, not letting any losses get them down. It seems having you there really motivated the entire team, especially a certain captain.

After the practice matches when the whole team gathers up, you reveal that before you left home to come to Tokyo, you had baked cupcakes for everyone at Karasuno as a reward for their hard work. Sure, they’re supposed to be eating healthy and what not in order to get their bodies in shape but no one can resist your sweet gift.

You’re pretty sure you see Tanaka and Nishinoya getting a little teary eyed at your kindness too, but you’re honestly not sure.

Daichi makes sure to let you know how much he absolutely loves your cupcakes and when he gets you alone outside of the building he’s giving you lots of kisses and telling you how much he’s missed you.

You hang around for late night practice and dinner too, cheering Daichi on as he works on his synchronized attack with the others and sitting with him as he eats with them later. You plan to head back to the train station to meet back up with your friends in Tokyo afterwards, and even though it isn’t far, Daichi absolutely refuses to let you go anywhere that late. Even if he walks you to the station, you’ll still have to take the train alone and walk in the dark to the motel your friends are staying at, and if anything were to happen to you during that time frame he would never forgive himself.

So you’re basically forced to stay the night and although you pretend to be all pouty over it, it secretly seems really exciting to spend the night hanging out with all the cool people you’ve met that day from the other teams. Kiyoko lends you an extra pair of pajamas since your friends had carried all of your stuff with them to Tokyo—because you had thought you’d be spending the night with them as originally planned—and you hang out with the managers in the girls’ room, playing games and talking about life.

In the morning, Daichi wakes up extra early so he can walk with you to the cafeteria for breakfast, and after you’re done eating, Coach Ukai allows him to walk you to the train station before training for that day starts again.

As much as you’d like to stay for the rest of the week, you don’t want to get in the way of their training either, plus you already have a ton of plans to explore Tokyo before you have to head back to Miyagi.

Before you leave though, Takeda and Coach Ukai let you know that they and the other coaches are inviting you to come to the barbecue they’re having at the end of the week—which just so happens to coincide with your last day in Tokyo and when you were going to leave to head back to Miyagi—and that you can even bring your friends too if you want. They also tell you it’s a secret and that they haven’t told any of the boys yet so you shouldn’t say anything. As you’re walking with Daichi, you can’t help grinning at the thought that he has no idea what’s going to be at the end of the week and when he asks you so funny, you just shake your head.

At the station, he gives you a kiss on your lips, hands snaked around your waist and foreheads leaned together, and tells you to make sure to text him every thirty minutes until you get to Tokyo otherwise he’ll assume you got lost. You know he will leave camp to come find you so you have to agree.

As you wave goodbye to him and head off to board your train, you’re already planning how you’ll tell your friends about the exciting new plan to end off your week, what you’ll wear, and what you’re going to do next time you see Daichi (hint: it involves sneaking up on him and surprising him with your arrival again).

‘Things couldn’t be any more perfect,’ you think as you unlock your phone and see a text message filled with hearts from him, your fingers already swiping across the screen to reply.

Akaashi Keiji

You knew about the volleyball team’s training camps with the other schools that are a part of the Fukurodani Academy Group, but it doesn’t hurt any less when Akaashi has to leave for a week.

A whole week of not being able to go to his house, hang out at your favorite cafe, or have picnics at the nearby park that consist of him making and packing for your favorite snacks like the thoughtful boyfriend he is, long walks by the lake, and playing catch with a volleyball in a sunny field? Not on your watch.

That’s why you concoct the master plan to sneak into the camp! Or, er—visit it. “Sneak in” is how Bokuto puts it when you tell him your plan, knowing that the help of the captain would be good because he understands the pain that comes with not seeing Akaashi for extended periods of time (yes, you also bribed him a little with the promise of you baking him a cake).

Bokuto, always with Akaashi, has been relaying what the two have been up to since the week started.

Of course Akaashi also texts you, especially late at night while he’s finishing off his dinner and winding down for the day, telling you about what all the other boys are doing because the dining room is always pure chaos when you put a bunch of hyperactive teenage boys together.

Bokuto will sometimes snap a picture of Akaashi when he thinks he’s not looking and text to you. [Pssst, (Y/N)! Look at what ‘Kaashi is doing now! He’s texting someone 👀] is what his messages accompanying the picture usually look like.

You text back, [Yes, I know Bo. He’s texting me.] And then you’ll look a little closer at the picture he sent, maybe even zoom in a little because Akaashi is BEAUTIFUL. [Thank you for the picture tho, keep them coming.]

Meanwhile Akaashi, basically sweat dropping as this all is happening, is texting you, [(Y/N) help, Bokuto is taking pictures of me when he thinks I don’t notice and is then typing frantically on his phone. Do you think he’s selling them on the black market?] This poor boy. The amount of convincing it takes to tell him no, Bokuto is not selling pictures of him eating on the black market is a little concerning but that’s just one part of the silly, lighthearted conversations you two have over text while he’s gone and you can’t stop giggling as you’re texting him. He’s definitely smiling at his phone too and taking forever to finish eating because he keeps stopping to text you back.

(To this, Bokuto snaps another picture to send to you with another over enthusiastic caption. [He’s smiling now!!!])

(You reply, [Yes, I know, I just sent him a joke.] Then you proceed to save the picture he sent and demand more because even though this isn’t really part of your plan of crashing the training camp, you can’t turn down free pictures of your cute boyfriend that you haven’t seen in a few days FOREVER.)

(Bokuto keeps the pictures coming, thinking he’s helping you somehow with your plan and you don’t have the heart to tell him that this part is purely self-indulgent and a way to fill up your “Akaashi photo album.”)

(Essentially, Bokuto seems to be a little confused about what his exact job as your spy entails, but he’s got the right spirit.)

It’s the middle of the week when you plan to show up, deciding to appear as the boys are eating breakfast and just waking up for yet another long day of practice.

It’s perfect because you had just sent the night before texting Akaashi very late as he got ready for bed and the conversation only ended when you demanded he go to sleep like Bokuto was telling him to. And now you get to see him bright and early the next morning? This plan couldn’t be any better.

When you arrive, you ask Yukie and Kaori to meet you at the entrance to the school because you have no idea where to go and they happily comply, chatting with you the entire way to the building where the boys are eating. You ask them about the training camp, even though you’ve heard most of the details from Akaashi and Bokuto, and in turn they ask you how are things back home and what you’ve been doing for summer break while Akaashi’s been gone. They know that if he was there, you guys would be spending practically every day together.

They tell you how they and the other managers were just making and serving breakfast to the boys but they managed to step out for a bit to come get you.

You’re having so much fun talking with the two managers that had quickly become your friends back in school when you started showing an interest in the boys’ volleyball club that you almost forget why exactly you were there in the first place. However, soon you arrive at the building and you have the sudden realization that Akaashi is right inside there, just a few steps away.

The three of you are giggling and shushing each other as you get ready to make your grand entrance.

You’re a little nervous because everyone else at the training camp was in there eating as well and would also surely be looking at you once you walked in. You were starting to wonder if this was really a good idea, but then Yukie pushes you into the doorway before you can back out and all heads swivel in your direction when you let out a little squeak.

Well, it’s now or never.

A deep breath and then you briskly walk over to Akaashi, who you had spotted after a quick sweep of the room, your eyes drawn to him as they always were. He had glanced up at your arrival at first like everyone else, but did a double take when it realized who it was, squinting a little to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. Now he was staring at you like he was still dreaming, lips slightly parted and head titled a little to the side as he took in the sight of you.

The Fukurodani team, breaking out of their initial shock of seeing you, started cheering and teasing Akaashi as you headed over to him, and that seemed to wake up the rest of the room too as the other teams were now very much interested in who this mysterious girl could be. Some of the members from the Fukurodani Academy Group knew a little bit about you from the games they’d seen you attend, always cheering on your setter boyfriend, but Karasuno didn’t know you at all and Kageyama had to hold Hinata back from going up to you to ask who you were and what you were doing here.

As you got closer to his table, Akaashi blinked and managed to stutter out a few words. “(Y/N)? What- How-“

You couldn’t help but smile at how his morning brain was struggling to comprehend the sight of seeing you. He looked cute all dazed like that, eyes wide. “Yep, it’s me in the flesh.~”

You were rounding the corner around the table to go to his chair when you said that, and somehow that seemed to be all the confirmation he needed before he was springing up, taking two long strides towards you, and enveloping you in his arms before you even had the chance to react.

If anyone in the room hadn’t been paying attention before, they sure as hell were now as good natured jeers and teasing comments erupted. You were so embarrassed and buried your head against his chest, feeling him laugh at the whole situation and give you a small peck on the top of your head.

Bokuto decided to join in on the hugging fest and enveloped both of you in his arms, squeezing you two a little too tight. “(Y/N)! I can’t believe you’re here! Akaashi couldn’t stop talking about how much he missed you!”

“Um, Bo, you knew I was coming,” you manage to get out as you’re crushed by his giant bear hug.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” he says, but his grip barely loosens.

Akaashi’s face is red from Bokuto’s comment about how he was always talking about you, but since you didn’t say anything in reply to it, you hoped you hadn’t heard it. “Bokuto, we can’t breathe. Please release (Y/N).”

Bokuto quickly lets go when he hears that and starts apologizing, but of course you just laugh and say it’s fine. Akaashi decides that you two need some alone time from the rest of the team though and leads you out of the room to the hallway where you tell him why you decided to visit and show him the convince store snacks you had brought in your bag for him as well, knowing that he wouldn’t get anything to eat like for a while. He also gets you to confess that you and Bokuto had been working together to set this up, although he already suspected that something was up with how weird Bokuto was acting.

You guys talk in the hallway for a little while longer, smiles stuck on your faces, but you eventually tell him he should get back and finish eating since he still has a long day of practice ahead. He invites you to eat with him but you decline since you ate before you came.

Right before you guys head back in, he stops you to press a soft kiss to your lips and tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear, then walks off, leaving you dumbfounded and wide eyed. You had definitely missed things like that.

For the rest of breakfast you help out the managers with serving and cleaning up after the boys since you felt bad that Yukie and Kaori had to leave their duties to come help you earlier. Even though all of them insist that it’s fine and that you should go spend time with Akaashi instead, you still remain in the kitchen with them, having way too much fun talking about random topics, and playing around and slashing each other with water as you wash the dishes (the water also helps you cool down because it’s way hotter here than it was when you were all comfortable in front of your fan in your room back home, although you wouldn’t trade this experience for the world).

You help out the rest of the day with manager duties too because 1.) you don’t want to feel like you’re in the way and 2.) it’s fun hanging out with the other girls. Refilling water bottles and keeping track of the scores isn’t too hard, plus you get to see all of Akaashi’s practice matches up close, cheering for him and pressing small kisses to his cheeks when Fukurodani wins. He has to deal with a lot of teasing from his team but he secretly loves the fact that everyone is seeing how much you love him.

Hinata also manages to escape Kageyama at some point to come talk to you because he’s still brimming with the questions from earlier. You think it’s cute and slightly use the opportunity to brag a little about Akaashi. When Kageyama comes to drag Hinata away, he sees that you don’t seem all that bothered by the orange-haired boy’s presence and decides to join in on the conversation, interested in knowing more about Akaashi since he looks up to him as a setter. Daichi calls them back once their next match is going to begin but you decide you definitely like the duo that make up the infamous quick attack of Karasuno. Plus you met Kiyoko and Yachi earlier when you were with the managers, so, all in all, this team was looking pretty interesting.

At night, when everyone is dismissed for free practice, you finally get to meet the infamous “third gym squad” Bokuto was telling you about, and get to know another member of Karasuno’s team, a tall blond middle blocker named Tsukishima that Kuroo seems to have too much fun teasing. You also see what Akaashi has to deal with as the rowdy group is constantly bickering and playing around off the court, but it’s also a lot of fun watching them so you can’t complain much as your sides hurt from laughter at the pure chaos going on. Sadly, you have to leave partway through to finish helping the other girls with dinner, but Akaashi offers to walk you there.

After practice and dinner are both done, Akaashi waits for you outside of the girls bathroom after you finish showering and getting ready for bed, and walks hand in hand with you back to the girls’ room where you’ll be sleeping. He gives you a goodnight kiss—lips soft as always—as you’re about to go in and your heart practically leaps out of your chest because he looks so good in the moonlight that’s coming through the hallway windows.

You can barely sleep that night, excited for what the next day will bring. You were planning to stay for the rest of the week and the managers seem grateful for the extra help so you know you’ll be around him a lot more until the end of camp. You’re looking forward to lots more wins during matches, walks during the night between the different gyms and other buildings, and stolen kisses in the dark as everyone else heads to bed.

Kuroo Tetsurou

Kuroo always rants to you about the woes of being volleyball captain and being in charge of a bunch of unruly boys, so it’s not exactly a surprise when the training camp day approaches. You’d been hearing about it for weeks after all and how excited he is to train with Bokuto and the others, but also how much he really doesn’t want to go and leave you all alone in Tokyo.

He comes over to hang out at your house a few days before the training camp and arrives and as he sprawls our in your couch, head in your lap as you two watch a movie, he’s lamenting about how much he’s going to miss you and how he just wants to stay here. He’s all pouty about it but you manage to convince him that you’ll be fine without him, even as you can barely hold back your laughter at how overdramatic he’s being.

The day for him to leave comes way too soon and just thinking about him being away for any amount of time is making you sad.

As his team is about to board the bus to head over to Shinzen High, he FaceTimes you so you can say hi to everyone and wish them luck. The whole team loves you because Kuroo always likes to bring you to practice matches for motivational purposes and you bring them snacks whenever you know they’re going to have a particularly intense day.

The boys are jumping around and all trying to talk to you, but eventually Coach Nekoma forces them all to get on the bus.

While the others are getting on, Kuroo finally gets some time to talk to you alone and gives you a proper goodbye and tells you how much he’s going to miss you even though you both know you’ll be texting and calling every day no matter what. You blow him a kiss through the screen and he pretends to catch before he has to hang up because Kenma is poking his head out of the bus window and telling Kuroo if he doesn’t get on right now they’re going to leave him.

Once Kuroo hangs up, you get back to packing and stuffing things into your suitcase.

Oh? Packing for what you ask? Well, unbeknownst to Kuroo, you’re heading out to stay with your relatives for the week in the Saitama Prefecture and they coincidentally live fairly close to Shinzen High. It took a little convincing to get your parents on board with the idea, but before you knew it everything was confirmed and your relatives were more than happy to have you visit.

You were meant to leave for their place the day after Nekoma left for the training camp, so you would have to spend one day away from Kuroo unfortunately. On the bright side, that gave you the extra time you needed to finish packing as you put the finishing touches on everything the day before you had to go.

That day, while you were still stuck in Tokyo, Kuroo made sure to text you constantly about what was going on and how Nekoma was absolutely crushing all the other teams. He even sent some pictures of him and the other players, namely Kenma (who looked annoyed) and Bokuto (who threw up a peace sign with a bright smile). Akaashi was usually dragged into the pictures with Bokuto against his will it seemed.

He also made sure to send lots of complaints about Lev but also how funny it was to see Karasuno react to their newest and tallest member in action.

Whenever he mentioned Karasuno, you were even more intrigued to know more about them. Based on what you had heard about Nekoma’s practice match with them a while back, they seemed to be an interesting bunch. You made a mental note to make sure to see them in person when you got to the training camp. You had a long list of things you wanted to do there actually because it was a lot of fun observing the other volleyball teams.

At night, Kuroo let you know that they had time for free practice now and let you know what he was up to with Bokuto and Akaashi. Since he had the time now, he managed to sneak away from them and head outside for a bit so he could FaceTime you again. He was giving you a mini-tour of the surrounding area and you were trying to remember all the buildings he was showing you so you didn’t get lost once you arrived. You also made sure to remember Gym #3 was where he seemed to like to spend free practice.

The video call came to an end when Bokuto, deciding that Kuroo was taking too long to come back, came out of the gym to look for him. Once he saw that Kuroo was on a call with you, he made sure to butt right in so he could talk to you too. Dating Kuroo came with the perk of getting to know the Fukurodani captain (and, by extension, Akaashi as well) pretty well.

Despite Kuroo’s best efforts at fighting back, Bokuto had already captured both his phone and your attention and was telling you all about his day at training camp. You found the whole thing hilarious as you watched Kuroo struggle to reclaim his phone in the background while Bokuto just kept talking to you.

Once Bokuto starting talking about how Nekoma had lost a match against Fukurodani earlier, that seemed to be the tipping point for Kuroo and he snatched the phone back, giving you a quick goodbye and promising to text you later before hanging up. Obviously he couldn’t allow himself to look uncool in front of you and let you know if he had lost any matches, even if it hadn’t been that many compared to the likes of Karasuno.

Even if it was one day you guys were separated, the way Kuroo made sure to keep you updated throughout the day and always stay in contact made it clear that even if you weren’t going to surprise him at training camp and had to stay home for summer break like everyone else, he would still make sure you felt loved, even if it wasn’t in person.

The next day you finally got to go to your relatives’ house. The drive there was pretty boring even though it was short, so you had a lot of time to text Kuroo whenever he had time in between matches and although Coach Nekoma kept telling him to stop spending so much time on his phone and smiling at it, Kuroo made sure to tell you that it was all worth it to talk to you.

By the time you got to your relatives’ house, it was already evening and getting pretty dark since you had left Tokyo so late. You bid your parents goodbye and headed inside to unpack some of your things.

After a while, you checked the time and, based off of what Kuroo had told you before, you knew it would be free practice soon so you got ready to go and let your relatives know you were heading out for a walk.

Google Maps saved you from getting lost in the unfamiliar area and once you got to Shinzen High, you did your best to remember the buildings Kuroo had shown you on FaceTime and navigate around the campus.

Somehow you managed to find Gym #3 on your own without getting too lost and you could hear the sound of volleyball players practicing inside.

Grinning to yourself, you peeked into the gym through the entrance since the doors were wide open and instantly spotted Kuroo talking with Bokuto and Akaashi. His back was to you and that gave you the perfect opportunity to sneak up on him.

When Akaashi spotted you creeping up behind Kuroo, you made a shushing motion so he wouldn’t say anything and paired with the fact that Akaashi was good at hiding his surprise, Kuroo was none the wiser to what was about to happen. You were lucky that Bokuto also had his back to you because you’re not sure he would have been to stay quiet or not give away that there was something behind Kuroo.

You contemplating jumping on Kuroo’s back but you were also pretty sure he would accidentally drop you if you did that because he would be so surprised.

That would definitely ruin your exciting entrance so you came up with a slightly anticlimactic alternative.

You wrapped your arms around him from the back and squeezed hard. “Boo!”

His reaction was priceless even though you hadn’t done much and he jumped out of surprise, screeching. You and Bokuto were rolling around on the floor in laughter as Kuroo whirled around, gaping at the sight of you. Meanwhile Akaashi watching all of this and once again wondering what he was even doing here and how he dealt with you three for so long.

“(Y/N)???” Kuroo kept opening his mouth like he was going to say something else, then closing it, then opening it again.

“Kuroo, stop that, you look like a fish.” He immediately stopped but you and Bokuto were howling with laughter again.

By now Kuroo has finally come to terms with the fact you’re here (he just needed a few minutes okay? you can’t blame him for that) and is smirking. You could recognize that look anywhere and stop in the middle of your laughing fit. “Kuroo, whatever you’re planning, don’t d-“ You don’t get to finish before he reached down to scoop you off the floor and into his arms, and you’re once again in awe of his strength.

“I’ve missed you so much, baby. I can’t believe you came all the way here to see me,” he said with a teasing tone and he’s kissing you all over your face as you struggle in his arms. Your face was hot with embarrassment and you know Kuroo was trying to get back at you for scaring him.

Now Bokuto is laughing at your expense and Akaashi is silently judging the chaos your arrival brought.

At some point you manage to wiggle out of Kuroo’s arms and once everyone calms down you tell him how you’re staying just a few blocks away for the rest of the week so you decided to come visit him at camp.

Obviously he’s happy and secretly he’s really touched at how you would do something like that for him. Definitely expect him to try to make it up to you once you get back home in the form of gifts, physical contact and praises, and lots of dates whenever you have time.

You hang out with the boys for the rest of the night and cheer them on as they practice.

Kuroo is NOT shy AT ALL about PDA and is constantly giving you kisses on your forehead and wrapping his arms around your shoulders if you’re next to him because he still can’t believe you’re here!!!

When it’s time for bed, you bid them goodbye and even though Kuroo insists on walking you back, you force him to stay at camp because you know he’ll get in trouble if he leaves, plus he’s obviously really tired. It’s not too far so you say you’ll be fine and promise to text you when you get back home. That’s not enough for him though, and although he agrees he’ll stay at camp, he still wants to talk to you on the phone as you walk to make sure nothing happens on the way.

You’re really tired when you finally get home because dealing with a bunch of energetic boys is a lot, but you’re still excited for the next day.

You had told Kuroo you would come over every night to hang out during free practice, but he managed to convince you that no one would mind if you came over during the day too. He also tells you you’re his lucky charm and he needs you to cheer him on. Yes, he included a lot of winky faces with that message.

When you show up during the practice matches the next day, all of Nekoma is happy to see you because Kuroo had kept your arrival a secret from them so that they would be surprised as well, and even Coach Nekoma is glad to see you, having become familiar with you ever since you started dating the team’s captain.

For the rest of the week, every morning you head off to the camp and every night you head home, making it full day adventure whenever you go. You’re actually really glad that they let you spend all day there because you would probably be bored if you were stuck at home all day. Your relatives don’t mind either because they’re very much fine with the “freedom of youth” concept and all that, and as long as you get home in one piece and don’t do anything your parents will get mad at them for, they don’t care too much. Plus it’s summer break! It would be cruel of them to try to keep you inside.

During your nights with the “third gym squad,” you get to know Tsukishima—who was forced to become part of the group and who Kuroo seems to have way too much fun teasing—and you ask him lots of questions about Karasuno. How he deals with the combination of you, Kuroo, and Bokuto is still a mystery to this day. You still like hanging out with him despite his salty attitude though and find it funny to poke fun at him just like Kuroo does.

Lev shows up sometimes too when he’s trying to escape receive training, although Yaku always comes to drag him back, or Kuroo—like the good captain he is—makes him practice until he’s too tired to stand.

You even get to know another member from Karasuno better later in the week when Hinata shows up in the third gym. He’s way more excited to talk to you than Tsukishima and you can clearly tell why Bokuto likes the short middle blocker so much.

You had heard a little bit about Hinata from Kenma and had talked to him a few times, but it seems you get to spend most of the time forming friendships during the free practice hours since the boys are constantly busy with training throughout the day.

Speaking of Kenma, he can’t tell if he’s happy you came because you take up all of Kuroo’s attention so he can’t reprimand him for playing games, or if he wished you stayed home because Kuroo has way more energy whenever he’s around you. Jk, Kenma loves you and is always glad to see you. Finally he has someone else to talk to at camp.

Overall, the whole week feels just like when you attend Nekoma’s practices back home since you’re still spending so much time with them and helping Kuroo keep them in line. You guys are sort of like the unofficial mom and dad duo of the team and you both absolutely love it.

In other ways, it’s way more fun than just attending normal practices because 1.) you don’t have any school work to do so you can spend all day goofing off and 2.) you get to meet so many new people from other schools!!!

It feels like a dream how much time you get to spend with Kuroo, and even when he’s busy training, just watching him do what he loves is enough.

Kuroo even sneaks out a few times to walk you home despite you telling him you can just walk alone like you did the first night.

He walks you just about everywhere actually, whether it’s between the gyms, or to the cafeteria, or to any of the other buildings, he’s always there holding your hand.

You best believe he’s giving you lots of kisses when there’s no one else around and even if there’s people around.

If your relatives cooked anything tasty that day, you sometimes bring him some of it as a reward for his hard work when you come in the mornings (you have to be careful that the other boys don’t see though because they’ll definitely be jealous).

Kuroo’s captain duties can be really stressful, but having you there always keeps him grounded and helps him get through anything that’s bothering him. He had resigned himself to just focusing solely on training this week and working hard to make sure his team got better until he could go home and see you, but with you showing up at the camp and taking care of him throughout the week by just being there, he remembers to take it easy and just do his best. You definitely made the training camp a million times better for him and the rest of Nekoma.

When you guys get back to Tokyo, he’s going to make sure to show his appreciation for all the big and small things you did for him throughout the week so he prepared to be spoiled galore. ♡

[lag1995-fics]

Hiii! Can i request a dadneto where Peter has a secondary mutation that also makes him metallokinetic like Erik? And then when he finally shows the X-men, Erik finally connects the dots? 😳😳

Of course you can love I’ll never say no to dadneto ❤️❤️❤️ sorry for the wait I just started a new job. I hope you enjoy the story ❤️

Forks

Pairing: none

Warning: I drop the f-bomb a bit

Words:1480

Summary: When Peter and Scott get into an argument, Peter loses his temper revealing his secondary mutation.

Masterlist

///::::///

Peter had always been really careful about hiding his secondary mutation. If people saw him moving metal it wouldn’t be hard to jump to the correct conclusion about his and Erik’s familial bond. It was just easier to keep that bit to himself. He wanted to tell Erik but he also didn’t want to be a 27 year old man trying to take the place of his dead 8 year old sister. He wanted to naturally build a relationship with his father, maybe then he could tell him.

They were supposed to be having a team building dinner that night. Peter knew why as well, he and Scott had been bickering constantly. It was obvious that Scott blamed Peter for his brother's tragic death. Scott had no way of knowing that the flames had already engulfed Alex. Peter also didn’t want to harp on that but too much Scott needed to grieve lord know he lashed out like an asshole when Wanda disappeared. If Scott needed to blame someone Peter didn’t mind being that person.

Everyone else thought it was obvious that Scott was being a major jerk wad and would often try to come to Peter’s defense. Scott rarely saw it but Peter would always wave off the defenders, often with comments of “let him have this” or “it’s okay, he needs to get these emotions out.” He could be the bigger person he was ten years older than Scott, it was just part of being a grown up.

***

The time came for the team building dinner and Peter’s mouth was already watering at the prospect of delicious ooey, gooey pizza. His mother had often told him his stomach was like a bottomless pit. Peter burned a hell of a lot of calories though and he had to constantly eat to make up for that.

He took his seat between Raven and Hank rubbing his hands together in anticipation. They looked at him with various looks of both disgust and amusement. Peter could care less pizza was the food of gods right behind twinkies.

It was no time before everyone had a seat at the table and Peter immediately started inhaling the Pizza. He was halfway through his 8th slice when Scott decided to open his mouth.

“That’s disgusting” he sneered and Peter could only grin at him.

“I burn a lotta calories plus Pizza is delicious!” Peter exclaimed brightly he was unbothered by Scott’s half hearted insult.

“Can you lay off for once this is supposed to be about team building,” Jean groaned, fed up with her boyfriend's childish behavior. Peter remained unbothered though, he knew what Scott was going through. It had been the same for him after Wanda disappeared.

“It’s fine Jean he’s just a kid, he doesn’t bother me,” Peter told the red haired girl light heartedly.

“Well it bothers me. Scott, what happened to Alex was not Peter’s fault, Alex was closest to the blast,” Jean shot out to her boyfriend obviously fed up with his shit.

“What bothers me is how nonchalant he is about the whole thing, it’s like he doesn’t even care” Scott was starting to get worked up and Peter wished that Jean could have just left it alone. He managed a glance at Erik who was ignoring everyone in favor of his newspaper. Charles who was beside him looked like he had a migraine starting. It was Charles idea for team building after all and Erik had the look of I told you so without even saying a word.

“You think I don’t care?” Peter asked, he didn’t want Scott to think he didn’t care. It weighed heavily on his mind that he hadn’t gotten there in time to save Scott’s brother. He was always too late for someone with super speed.

“I know you don’t fucking care!” Scott’s face was inflamed and red.

“Scott! Language!” Charles snapped.

“Well you’re wrong Scott I do care. I’m always too late and I’m sorry I didn’t get to Alex in time.” Peter was sincerely sorry that he hadn’t been in time. He would never wish the pain of losing a sibling on anyone.

“Well fuck you! You don’t know what it’s like to lose a sibiling! Alex was all that I had!” Scott screamed and Peter felt a trill of Anger run down his spine his fork started to vibrate subtly and Raven looked at it with wide eyes before looking at him sharply. Peter didn’t notice his mind was full of images of his sister.

“Don’t act like you know me Scott, the only reason I’ve let you go on and on like you have is because I know exactly what you’re going through.” Peter seethed and he knew he should be embarrassed that he let a seventeen year old goad him like this.

“Fuck You! Alex died, you didn’t save him. You don’t know what it’s like to lose a brother” Scott spat. By now Erik had lowered his paper watching the interaction with veiled interest. Charles had a look of anger at the boys for ruining his team building dinner.

“Oh I might not know what it’s like to lose a brother but I lost my twin sister when we were your age! She just disappeared. I have no clue if she’s alive or dead and I promise you that’s worse!” Peter spat and the silverware began rising into the air with his skyrocketing temper. If he had been looking he would have seen the color drain from Erik’s face.

“Erik you’re only making it worse!” Charles snapped thinking it was Magneto getting irritated and wanting to silence the boys. Peter realizing what he had done let the silverware drop with a metallic clatter. The anger drained rapidly.

“Charles it’s not me.” His tone was choked as he stared at the silver haired mutant with new eyes. Peter unsure of what to do in the rising tension decided the logical answer was to bolt from the room.

He was by the fountain in second trying to calm his ragged breathing and approaching panic attack. The cat was truly out of the bag now. He placed his head between his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Inside Erik was still staring at the spot Peter had just disappeared from. His mind was trying to catch up. He had another child, a living child. Peter was clearly Magda’s son, he had her sunny disposition, he obviously hadn’t inherited that from him. Then his stomach sank again. He had twins and one of them was missing for over ten years. Peter had been dealing with this pain on his own.

“Fountain,” Charles' voice whispered in his head, “go to him he needs you. He’s afraid you’ll reject him.”

Erik wondered how such a brilliant person like Peter could ever think that he would reject him. If anything Erik wasn’t worthy of the boy, he was such a bright beacon in the dark miserable world. He began to walk to the fountain, his mind replaying a very specific memory. Almost ten years ago a silver haired teenager had broken him out of his prison with a grin and a sharp wit. He had also made an off hand comment.

“So you can control metal?” Peter had asked and Erik who was still disoriented had only nodded.

“That cool my mom knew a guy who could do that,” the statement had been so off handed and nonchalant. Erik should have known then but he had been distracted by a walking Charles who promptly punched him square in the jaw. The off hand comment had been pushed to the back of his mind.

He found Peter with his head between his knees close to a panic attack. He sat next to the boy and laid a hand on his shoulder. Peter jerked looking at him in surprise.

“Your mother was Magda,” it was a statement not a question. Peter only nodded with wide brown eyes. His mother’s eyes, it felt like a punch to the gut.

“I’m not trying to replace Nina, I swear!” Peter choked out, “I wouldn’t want someone to try and replace Wanda.”

“You’re not replacing anyone my boy, you are your own person. A good person that I don’t deserve. You’re my son and I love you. I may not have known you for very long but family is forever,” Erik declared and Peter sniffles before throwing himself into his fathers arms like he was five and not twenty seven. Erik hugged his son back as they both fought back their tears.

“Forever” Peter agreed and one of the cracks in his heart healed. He wasn’t whole but he had one more person to add to his list of loved ones. He only hoped he could find Wanda one day. Erik would love her; they were both so much alike.

Thank you for reading feel free to drop a request.

[xxx-cat-xxx]

heaven forbid (you end up alone)

Two years on and I'm still not over Endgame. But at least I finally finished this fic!

A word of warning; this one is Endgame-compliant and centred around the topic of grief and Pepper’s and Happy’s friendship in the aftermath of Tony’s death.

Major thanks to @twentyghosts​ for beta reading.

*

Throughout her life, Pepper has always divided her days into small pieces, regulated by meticulous plans. She can’t remember ever waking up without a mental―or written―to-do list and a clear idea in which order to tackle it. It’s her way of managing a multinational company. Of managing Tony, which was arguably more challenging than SI’s 300,000 other employees combined. Of managing her own alien-invaded, super power-sprinkled, increasingly absurd life. 

And whenever things get overwhelming and she feels like she’s falling into a bottomless, desperate pit, that’s what she does: plans the next 30 minutes, and then the 30 minutes after that, and so on until it’s one thirty am and she is tired enough to fall into bed without having to think about anything except what’s ticked off on the list and what’s left for tomorrow. 

That’s what she does now, seven weeks after her husband’s death. 

This Saturday is booked for tidying up the closets. There is no need to keep Tony’s clothes, other than a few special ones for memory’s sake, the band shirts and the ones with the science puns she still likes to sleep in. And it would be a waste to wait any longer to donate them: even two months on, there is more than enough need out in the streets due to the chaos that came on after the reverse. 

Homeless people wearing 5000 dollar suits, that would have been to Tony’s taste. 

Pepper has cleared her schedule well in advance, picked a weekend Morgan can stay with Rhodey, already ordered the Dress for Success pick-up for the next morning. Made a plan of action, starting with the top floor. 

All that’s left now is to do it.

“Okay, Virginia,” she tells herself. The name feels unfamiliar on her tongue, but maybe she needs this, needs the reminder that she had a life before Tony Stark and, as horrible as it sounds, will have one after him. “Get up. Drink some water. Go through the closets.” 

It’s just that she can’t. 

She enters the bedroom, their bedroom, her bedroom, opens the cupboard. And then she stands in front of it for almost twenty minutes, unable to bring herself to move. 

Finally, her legs grow a bit weak under her and she has to sit down on the floor, less and less successfully fighting the feeling that the air around her is completely devoid of oxygen. She can’t breathe. She can’t get up. She can’t walk over to the closet and get started with the next item on her list―it’s as if there’s an invisible barrier between her and the task. She just can’t. 

It takes her almost 45 minutes before she finally calls Happy.

*

Much like Tony, Pepper is someone who distracts herself with work, and looking after Morgan, organising the funeral and getting the Stark Foundation into motion to set up shelters for four million Returned without a place to go have been tasks so time-consuming that she didn’t have any other option than just to function, and function well. Almost well enough to trick herself into believing that she’ll be fine.

Sometimes she wonders whether she has become so good at perfecting the image she shows to the public that she doesn’t even know anymore who she actually is. 

“Hey.” 

She hadn't noticed Happy’s presence until he is standing in the doorframe. 

“Happy,” she greets, her voice sounding foreign to her own ears. 

“Oh, Pepper.” He looks her up and down, his expression equal parts sad and kind. “Come on. Let’s get you up from the floor.” 

She pushes away his hands helping her up, she doesn’t need them, doesn’t need any help, but then the world blurs suddenly and she kind of does. Happy steadies her when she sways, alarmed but not as surprised as she’d want him to be. It would irritate her, on normal days, because she can take care of herself, doesn’t need anyone to hold her, thank you very much. But today she is just a bit too tired to pretend. 

"Have you eaten?" he asks, voice still too warm when he guides her over to the bed and sits her down. 

“I had...tea this morning.”

“And last night?” 

She is silent. He sighs, and she deflects, “Haven’t had much of an appetite lately.”

“Alright, I’ll go find us some food. Just stay here.”

“Thanks, Happy,” she says quietly. 

He sighs again. “It’s alright. I knew this was going to happen sooner or later. I’m just glad I’m here.” 

She nods. She knew it too, that she wouldn’t be able to distract herself forever, even if she wouldn’t admit it to herself. But that’s the thing. She wasn’t afraid of it happening, only of the After―of things calming down and her having to deal with the lonely, horrible, rest of her life. Of realising that the inevitable breakdown doesn’t help a single bit. That picking up the pieces is not in the least easier than keeping them together.

*

Happy returns 15 minutes later with a big bag of cavity-inducing gas station doughnuts, sprinkles and all. The mere thought of biting into one makes Pepper’s stomach roll. 

“I’m not sure I can eat those,” she tells him when he sits next to her on the bed and leans against the headboard. 

“Just try.” 

She does, fighting down the looming nausea, and, surprisingly, the sweetness helps. She breathes out, one and a half doughnuts and a small bottle of orange juice later, and finds that her head feels clearer. 

“Morgan would love this,” she observes, nodding at the rest of the treats. “She’s been trying to bully me into making her waffles for breakfast every single morning of the last whole month.” 

“So, did she succeed?”

Pepper shakes her head. “It’s bad for her health. But she keeps throwing tantrums. I know it’s because of what happened, but god, she's been so difficult. The way she shouts at me, sometimes I think she hates me.”

Happy sets down his reusable coffee cup and looks straight at her. “She doesn't, Pepper." 

She can’t stop herself from snorting. “How would you possibly know?”

“I can see the way she looks at you. Looks up to you. She adores you.”

“I…” Pepper bites her lip, unable to decide whether that’s something she wants to share. Life has taught her that it’s usually better to keep your weaknesses to yourself if you want to stay on top. But then, it’s not like there is any competition of people wanting to parent her daughter. “I don’t know about that. I know she misses Tony, but I also feel that she misses...a parent who knows how to handle her. I’m not―sometimes I’m afraid I’m not a very good mother.”

“That’s not true, Pep, and you know it.”

She takes a deep breath. “I never wanted to have children, Happy. I mean, it’s not that I didn’t want Morgan, once we decided in favour of me getting pregnant. And I never regretted having her. But it was mostly Tony who pushed for this, who needed this. He has - had - a way with kids...you know, I can be strict, but he can―could―get her to do what is necessary without even having to raise his voice. And sometimes I just wonder―what if I ruin it, Happy? She only has me.”

“Firstly, that’s not true. Rhodey and I are here for you too. You got your sister, and I’m sure Peter would be more than happy to babysit as well. There’s more than biological parents for a kid, you know that better than anyone, right?” 

She nods, hesitantly.

“And secondly,” he continues, “You are doing great under the circumstances. Nobody is born a parent. But if you’re good at anything, then it is to adapt to difficult situations. You can do this, Pepper.”

“Yeah, I know… I know I can.”

And that’s exactly the point. Pepper has always pulled through. Everyone expects her to keep functioning, and she isn’t one to miss people’s expectations. But sometimes she wonders if she’s still alive in there.

*

They finish up the doughnuts and start tackling the clothes. It goes surprisingly smoothly, and Happy even coaxes a few hesitant chuckles out of her when he fishes a gold-glittery mankini and a few other special-occasion items out of the far corner of Tony’s wardrobe. They are three boxes in and have moved one floor down when Pepper takes a break to pee and wash the dust off her face in the guest bathroom.

Tony’s shaver is lying on the edge of the sink. He must have been shaving here the day he left for the compound, likely because Pepper or Morgan were using the upstairs bathroom, and left it there. She always tells him to put it back in the cupboard and he always forgets―forgot. She picks it up, ready to put it where it belongs, when it hits her. 

It’s futile. It’s a personal shaver of a man who’s never going to need one again. Nobody’s ever going to use this particular shaver again. She could just as well throw it away. 

Pepper feels anger burn hot and fierce in her chest. She opens her mouth, to scream, maybe, but all that comes out is a broken sob. 

Happy must have been listening for her from the other room, because he is there in an instant. She turns away, reflexively hiding the tears on her face, but he stops her.

“Hey. It’s okay. It’s okay to cry.”

“I need to―I don’t have time―”

“I think we can clear fifteen minutes in your schedule for a breakdown, right?” Happy teases, the smallest of smiles on his face although he looks close to tears himself.

A memory strikes, and she chuckles through the sobs, then cries harder. 

“What’s it?”

“That’s just the kind of thing he would have said.”

“Oh, Tony,” Happy smiles sadly.

“I just―I miss him so much, Happy. It’s―It’s all the small things―his shaver―the tinkering and the empty pizza boxes everywhere and the never-ending cups of coffee and the way he just keeps on talking, to his bots and to me and Morgan―and―” she runs out of breath. 

“I know. I miss him too.”

“You know, the way he used to stick his tongue between his teeth when he was concentrating and not realising anyone was around? Morgan did the same recently while drawing, and I just―sometimes I just can’t―”

“You can do it, Pepper. If there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you. You are strong.”

Pepper laughs, but it sounds shrill and false in her ears. 

“People say that all the time, you know? And the worst thing―you know what the worst thing is?”

Happy shakes his head.

“The worst thing is, it’s true. You know, early into the relationship I was thinking that I can’t live without him. I was so, so scared something would happen to him, so I tried to stop him from being Iron Man… And then we took a break, and he ended up half-dead in Siberia, and at that time I realised that yes, I can live without him. It just wasn’t a life I wanted to live. And now―thinking that I have to do this every day, it’s just―it’s like someone is sitting on my chest and strangling me, over and over again.”

She hears Happy swallow hard, then he shuffles closer and wraps his arms around her, pulling her close. One of the bear hugs that got her through the time when Tony was in Afghanistan and both of her parents died in the span of three months, that got Tony through his panic attacks, and Morgan through some of her nightmares. 

She feels water drop onto her neck, and she knows Happy is crying too. 

*

They do finish the clothes before nightfall, because Pepper has always been awfully good at ticking off to-do lists, even on the worst days. When they are done, they get a bottle of red wine from the cellar and empty it in Tony’s honour, sitting near the lake where Pepper and Tony once spent a whole night just after they bought the house getting eaten by mosquitos, when they decided to turn it from a temporary recovery getaway into a home for as long as time would grant them. 

Morgan took her first steps here, had her first fall, cried buckets in Pepper’s arms while Tony put a band-aid on the scratch on her elbow, and Pepper remembers thinking how little children know of pain. A few steps below Pepper laid the arc reactor to water, holding the hand of the girl who now knew so, so much of it; and sometimes she doesn’t know if she wants to preserve the place forever or burn it all down. 

They sit and drink and at some point Pepper closes her eyes, and through the buzz of alcohol she can almost imagine that Tony is in the garage, finishing up a project before joining them for the night. 

She thinks of him with love, with tenderness, with unforgiving pain.

She wonders if it will ever get easier. She wonders if she even wants it to be.

*

They go to bed at two. Happy takes the guest room where Tony’s shaver is now lying at the bottom of a dust bin. Pepper lies wide awake, her window open, listening to the familiar sounds of life far away from the city. 

She will fall asleep eventually, facing away from the empty side of the bed. She will wake up at six, a little hungover, force herself to start the day with yoga and a run. Will call Dress for Success to make sure they get to the house on time, will oversee the pick-up. Will have breakfast with Happy so he doesn’t have to worry about her passing out when he gets on his way. Will sit through an SI video conference until it’s time to pick up Morgan, maybe take her to the mall or to see a movie on the way back home from Rhodey’s. Will make her dinner, give her a bath, put her to bed on time, if possible without a tantrum. Will tackle her email inbox until a headache will force her to bed. Will make a plan for Monday, another Monday without Tony, before falling asleep. Will wake up and face that one too.

Rinse and repeat, one day at a time.

*

All my fics

All my Pepperony fics

[6rookie-writer0110]

Wild West Bank

Percy Jackson x Reader x Annabeth Chase

Request - Can you do a Percy x R x Annabeth where R is a son of Hades and fell into Tartarus with them?

For the Percy x Annabeth x reader thing, I meant romantic relationship.

You had a hard life growing up. Hades being your father, not everyone likes you or trust you. You became a loner and you didn't bother opening up to anyone. They already judged you and you stayed away from them. You are used to being alone and doing everything else alone. Your relationship with your father Hades is very complicated.

You met Percy and Annabeth through your cousin who is Cupid. You caught feelings for them, at first you denied your feelings for them. Annabeth and Percy have feelings for you but you or they haven't said anything.

“So when you will start dating them?” Cupid asked.

“Why would you ask that?” You asked.

“Y/N, I am Cupid the love of God. You do know I can sense people's love?” Cupid said.

“Shut up” You mumbled.

“You like them! I knew it! Bro, I can sense your love for them!” Cupid cheerfully yelled.

“You better not tell anyone! Or I will break your arms” You said.

Cupid knows they have feelings for you. He didn't have to use his arrow on them or you. But he won't tell you about it, he wants you to have the courage to tell them.

“I will help you ask them out,” Cupid said.

“Why?” You asked.

“Your game is not good. Don't worry, since I'm your cousin I will help you” Cupid smiled.

“Whatever,” You said and rolled your eyes at him.

Cupid went through your wardrobe. He wanted you to throw away your favorite shirt but you said no.

Time Skip-~

You haven't felt happy in a long time. It felt strange but in a good way, you like being in a relationship with Annabeth and Percy. Not everyone knows about the relationship except for Cupid.

----

You and Percy are on the couch making out. Annabeth starts to knock on the door.

“Must be Annabeth” Percy said between kisses.

“Yeah, I will open the door” You said.

You are happy to see your girlfriend. She hugged you tight and she starts to kiss you.

“I missed you,” Annabeth said and kissed you again.

“We missed you too,” You said.

Annabeth did kiss Percy and he is happy that she is back. You have a movie night with them. Annabeth was too tired to go out for date night. You sit in the middle and Annabeth lies her head on your shoulder and Percy has his arm around you.

✬ ✯ ✫ ✯

Your father Hades found out about your relationship with Percy and Annabeth. He disapproves of the relationship but you don't care about his opinions.

“You will not date them!” Hades yelled.

“You can't tell me what to do! You haven't been a father to me in a long time. I will date them because I want to and mean so much to me” You yelled.

Percy and Annabeth are standing behind you. You told them how you don't get along with your father. Hades always wanted you to be like him and create chaos. That changed and that made him angry but you don't want to be like him. Hades glared at Percy and Annabeth, then he growled.

“I’m disappointed in you my son,” Hades said.

“We do care about y/n, we will never hurt him,” Annabeth said.

“She is right, we would never hurt him,” Percy said.

“You and Percy are the problem and I will fix it. You and Percy won't date my son anymore” Hades said.

“Run!” You yelled at them.

Hades summoned his demons. They start to come out of the ground, you start to fight the demons.

“Y/N, we won't leave you behind,” Percy said.

“We have to be quick. Looks like your dad isn't done” Annabeth said.

She is right, Hades’ eyes start to glow red. He smirked at you and you have a bad feeling about what he will do next.

“Dad, you wouldn't...”

“You need to learn your lesson, my son,” Hades said.

He used his powers to send you, Annabeth, and Percy to Tartarus.

Tartarus is the deep abyss that is used as a dungeon of torment and suffering for the wicked and as the prison for the enemies and Titans.

You hit the ground hard, you broke Annabeth’s fall and Percy is in pain.

“Are you two okay?” Annabeth asked.

“No,” You and Percy said quickly.

“Y/N, where are we?” Percy asked.

Annabeth helped you and Percy stand up.

“We are in Tartarus, basically, the bottomless put of hell where souls are being tortured eternally,” You said.

There screams everywhere, the heat is off the roof, demons are roaming around, and more souls start to scream again.

“How do we get out?” Percy asked.

“That I don't know. My dad was the only one who knows how to get out. He never showed me how to get out” You said.

“You are father, is a jerk,” Annabeth said.

“I don't think the word ‘jerk’ matches what he is,” You said.

“What’s the plan? We can't stand here forever” Annabeth said.

“I know” You heavily sighed.

----

You walk around hell with them. Every demon knows who you are, they are glaring at you. You make sure Annabeth and Percy next to you.

“We have been walking around for a while now. We don't have a clue how to get out” Percy said.

“Guys, I'm sorry for what my dad did. If you and Annabeth want to break up I get it and I won't be mad” You said in a low voice.

“Y/N, I don't want to break up with you. I still like you a lot and you are not like your father. You are much better than him” Annabeth said.

You gave her a small smile and she kissed you. Percy kissed you and you smiled again.

“This won't be the reason why we will break up. We still love you” Percy said.

“I feel the same, I love you and Annabeth,” you said.

You keep walking with them and you three hear a voice.

“Y/N, Percy don't look into her eyes” Annabeth said.

“Why?” Percy asked.

“It’s Medusa, I recognize her voice,” Annabeth said.

Percy and Annabeth look down on the ground.

“Mom!” You yelled.

“Mom?” They said.

“My son!” Medusa said happily.

She hugged you tight and kissed your head. You can't stop smiling, you haven't seen her in a while. You told her what happened and she is furious at Hades. You and Medusa have a good relationship and you trust her.

“How come you don't turn into stone?” Percy asked and still looking down at the ground.

“She is my mom. I am immune from turning into stone” You said.

“Y/N, use the power I thought you so they won't turn into stones,” Medusa said.

“Okay, mom,” You said.

You cut your hand with and you used magic, so Percy and Annabeth won't turn into stone. You told them to look up, they trust you and they see Medusa. Their eyes opened wide

“Y/N, who are they,” Medusa said.

“Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase, um we are dating,” You said nervously.

“Dating them? Oh, I met their parents, we don't get along” Medusa said.

“Dad doesn't approve of the relationship,” You said.

“If they make you happy then I support the relationship. Hurt my son, I will come back and turn you into stones” Medusa said.

“We won't hurt him, promise,” Annabeth said.

“Good,” Medusa said.

“Wow, I can't believe we won't turn into stone. Y/N, do you have snakes like your mom?” Percy said.

“Maybe” You teased.

You didn't tell them that Medusa is your mother. You are not ashamed of her, you just didn't know how they will react to it.

“Mom, can you help us get out of here,” You said.

“Of course. Follow me” Medusa said.

----

Medusa knew how to escape the pits of hell. You are happy to be on earth and you can't stop smiling. Percy and Annabeth are happy to be on earth too. Medusa can see, they make you happy and she does want you to be happy.

“Thank you,” Percy and Annabeth said to Medusa.

They hugged her and her eyes opened wide. You couldn't help to smile at them.

✬ ✯ ✫ ✯

It's your birthday and you never celebrated your birthday. Hades would always make it about himself. Annabeth and Percy are planning a surprise party for you. You have no idea about it, it's just another regular day for you.

“Y/N is coming upstairs in one minute,” Annabeth said to everyone.

Percy and Annabeth invited a small group of people to come over. They invited Cupid and Medusa.

You opened the door and everyone yelled

“Surprise!!” They yelled.

“Oh my God!!” You screamed.

Your eyes changed colors and your fists turned into fire.

“Y/N calm down! It's a party!” Annabeth yelled.

“A party? Why?” You asked.

Your fists go back to normal.

“It’s a surprise party. We are going to celebrate your birthday, it's called a surprise party” Percy said.

“I told them it's a dumb idea,” Medusa said.

Everyone is having a hard time not to look at your mom.

“Oh, I never had a party on my birthday” You said.

“Oh, you did one time when you was a year old. But your idiot father ruined the party. Since that happened I stopped celebrating your birthday” Medusa said.

“Oh,” You said.

Your mom stayed for a little bit then she left. It took you a while to have fun and it still felt strange having people celebrate your birthday. You did kiss Percy and Annabeth, they can see that you're having fun.

You did enjoy eating the cake and loved the gifts that Percy and Annabeth got for you.

[codylabs]

The Bottomless Pit

New scifi-horror story! Well, not exactly new, I’ve had it finished for a year or so now, but never shared it on Tumblr. It’s an entirely original story, so don’t expect any familiar characters or places. But it does introduce one or two pieces of worldbuilding for my original universe, which will be important for some of my other upcoming stories, so I figured now would be a good time to share it.

Enjoy.

Part 1

Once upon a time, far from here, at the bottom of the deepest shaft of the deepest mine, two boys stood regarding a pit that led yet deeper.

“You sure about this?”

“Yeah! C’mon, it’s not like there’s anything dangerous down there!”

Louis nervously leaned out over the fissure as far as he dared. It was true, there didn’t rightly seem to be anything at all down there; just blackness. The walls of the fissure passed beyond the range of their headlamps after the first twenty meters, and after that, floors and walls became nothing but indistinct void. It must be fifty meters deep, at least.

“You just let me down,” Peter pointed to the towing winch built into the belt of Louis’s suit. “Until I touch the bottom. And then when you see me standing down there walking around, you’ll be brave enough to come down too.”

“…What if there is no bottom?”

"...What do you mean 'if there's no bottom'? What else would there be?"

"I...? Uh... You know? I dunno."

"Every hole on every single one of the hundred million brazillion planets and moons in the universe has a bottom. Because if it didn’t, it would go straight through the place, and there’d be magma everywhere right? Which would make it not dark. But it is dark. Which means it doesn’t go forever.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Louis’s helmet was rattling around on his head as he shifted his weight this way and that, trying to find a comfortable position where he wasn’t sweaty. Even through a thick pressure suit, the body language was apparent. “I mean, like… Like… Okay, never mind.”

“C’mon dude. This is basic simple science stuff. And since basic simple science proves that there is a bottom, we can therefore find that bottom!”

“Yeah…”

“We know space pirates once used this moon as a hideaway. Maybe they hid treasure down there!”

“That’s stupid.”

“It’s not, it’s true. And it makes sense for them to hide their treasure down in the deepest, darkest hole they could find. And what’s deeper and darker than here? Nothing, that’s what! Look, my GPS says we’re… What, a kilometer below the surface already? No mines go that deep! This must’ve been dug by the first colony! You know. Before they disappeared.”

“Yeah, well…” Louis glancing at the floor behind them. “...Well, I guess the footprints were pretty weird.”

With no wind and no water on this moon, dust and dirt and stone remain exactly as they are until something disturbs them, meaning that footprints last forever, with newer ones layering on top of old ones. In a long-abandoned mine like this, one would have expected the most recent, top layer of prints to have been left by the mining tractor; the one that dug the tunnel. In most of the other tunnels, that’s just how it was. After all, there was never any reason the miners themselves to bodily enter the tunnel.

Except here, the tread marks weren’t the last tracks.

Louis and Peter had followed a set of three tracks, tracks from adult human boots, all the way down here… Two sets had been leading up to this very hole… But only one set could be seen returning…

“It must be pirates.” Peter nodded, as he gazed down into the crevice. “It’s the only explanation… That or aliens.”

“Aliens don’t exist.”

“Yeah, and that just leaves pirates, which makes more sense anyway.” Peter explained. “See, the Captain must have needed help from his second-in command to carry the treasure chest, but when they threw it in the hole, the Captian shot his buddy and threw him in too! Because the Captain knew that all pirates are nothing but dirty thieving buccaneers, so to keep his greatest fortune safe, he made sure that nobody else knew…! I bet we’ll find an evaporated mummy with a busted faceplate down there… And riches… Riches worth killing over… Gold and crystals and ancient forms of currency that have all been forgotten for centuries…”

Louis’s body language said he was almost convinced. (Not convinced enough to believe it, but almost convinced enough to try exploring it.) “But…” He offered one last objection. “Maybe they were just explorers or something. You know, like us. Maybe his buddy just got hurt down there, so he just carried him out… I mean, it doesn’t necessarily mean one of them died down there…”

“But there’s no piton left behind.” Peter gestured to the tunnel floor around them. “And no place where one was driven in… And they weren’t using jetpacks either, because there’s no disturbance in the dust from the downdraft… Which means they had no way back out.”

That tipped Louis over the edge, and he reluctantly began to unpack his climbing gear. “Oh-kaaaay…” He sighed, as he aimed the power-driver at the tunnel floor. There was a burst of compressed air from the driver, and a piton appeared in front of the barrel, embedded securely in the rock. He unspooled a length of cable from the winch and passed it through the piton’s pulley, then handed the end to Peter. “But… Uh… If you find anything scary down there, could you bring it back up so I can see it please?”

“You’re a baby.” Peter locked the cable into his harness, and stepped up to the edge of the crevice. “How are you a boy scout if you’re such a baby?”

“I’m a boy scout because I know everything.” Louis frowned, as he braced his feet against the side of the tunnel to balance out the winch. “I know how to maintenance all the types of engines that we use. I know how to build an airtight shelter out of nothing but rocks and resin. I know how to recycle urine without ever taking off my suit. I can signal for help in 23 languages. If we were crashlanded, then I would be the hero, and you would be the bumbling sidekick.”

“You also know how to be a baby.”

“I also know there was never any pirates on this moon.” Louis added. “Those are just rumors that sprung up around the old military depot in the Eastern hemisphere.”

“Which was destroyed by pirates!” Peter reminded him as he leaned into the cable. He bounced slightly, just to convince his mind that the thin material could actually hold his weight.

“Destroyed by themselves via routine self-destruction. That was standard scorched-earth policy back during the war.”

Louis leaned out over the blackness, at an angle where the cable was supporting the majority of his weight. And he prepared to step out into darkness. “Being a baby must be standard policy too, huh?”

"In certain circumstances yes, maybe being a baby is standard policy.”

“Your mom is standard policy.”

“Negative.”

“Line down.”

Naturally, Louis’s winch made no sound in the airless environment. All Peter could hear were his own boots scuffling and sliding down the first section of the crevice sides, and the faint rhythm of the winch vibrating down through the taught cable. And, of course, there were all the familiar background sounds: the hissing of the life support in his pack, the whirring of the water pump warming his extremities. And above all, his helmet echoed his own breathing back toward him, muffled and close and incredibly loud. That omnipresent, overbearing sound of breathing used to scare him when he’d first worn a space suit; made him feel either profoundly claustrophobic and alone, or feel like Darth Vader was standing behind him.

But now he was a boy scout. And boy scouts are many things. They aren’t babies, first of all. Second of all, they’re responsible, and dutiful, and they know their equipment. Third, they can survive outdoors. So in this day and age, when most doors opened into hard vacuum, you can know for darn sure that a good boy scout isn’t afraid to be out on his own in it, locking his life behind nothing but a little fabric and glass.

This fabric and glass was rugged, and tough, and meticulously well-maintained. It was his armor. And inside it, he was as safe. Safe as he was in his own home.

Peter found that the crevice was widening as he descended. The tunnel wall dropped sideways from beneath his feet, and he soon found himself hovering on his back, suspended from his harness like a sack of freight as the walls continued to recede above him. “Louis be advised.” Peter said. “Tunnel is widening significantly. I have lost physical contact with the wall. Over.”

“How is visual contact? Over.” Louis’s voice came through Peter’s radio, as it always had.

Peter looked left, and right. The ‘hole’ they’d descended seemed to actually be some sort of chasm or fissure, running through the moon’s crust like a cut or a tectonic crack. It stretched off into blackness to either end, far further than his beam could search, must be more than a hundred meters. As for the walls to either side of him, they were widening, dropping off into the distance steadily, like the incredibly steep, jagged walls of an upside-down canyon. He could still see them, but his light could only reach so far; if they became dim enough, he wouldn’t be able to focus on them past the slight glare reflecting off the scratches in his helmet.

And no, he could not yet see the bottom.

“Mediocre, and getting worse. Over.” Peter answered.

“Do you wish to abort? Over.” Louis asked.

“No!” Peter let himself hang flat on his back again, so he was looking straight up the cable at the opening above him. The glow from Louis’s light was brightly illuminating the inside of the mineshaft, forming a jagged splotch of bright brown surrounding the cable’s end. “No…” He repeated, talking to the light. “Just a bigger hole than I thought, that’s all. Don’t blame the Captain for throwing his treasure down here; it’s a good hiding spot. Over.”

Louis ignored that.

The winch continued to spin, the cable continued to unwind, the light continued to shrink above, the walls continued to recede.

“Peter be advised…” Louis’s voice was slow and careful, not quite nervous. “Tension in cable seems slightly uneven. Over.”

“Uneven?” Peter frowned up at his friend. “Louis, please elaborate. Over.”

“It’s decreasing… Like you’re getting lighter… Are you dropping rocks out of your pockets or anything? Over.”

“No… Is your winch speeding up?”

“No…”

There was a brief moment of silence while they both pondered all this.

“Maybe your legs are going numb.” Peter suggested. “Uh, over.”

“Maybe… Yeah, I dunno, I don’t think so… Seriously, if you’re messing with me-”

“I’m not messing with you…” That gave Peter an idea: mess with him. He began to flail his arms and legs to make the line bounce. “I… I think I feel it too!”

“You feel the tension decreasing?”

“No, it’s just kind of… Bumpy… Like somebody’s shaking it…! Are you moving around up there?”

“N-no, I’m not moving an inch!” Louis said. “Uh… Oh, wow, actually yeah, I can feel it bouncing too now!”

“I think something’s on the cable!” Peter cried out. “I think something grabbed it! Oh no, I can see it! OH MY GEEZ! It’s coming toward me!”

“WHATISWHATIS WHAT’S COMING TOWARD YOU?!?” Louis was getting hysterical.

The bumping in the line stopped. All was silent on the radio. Peter held his breath in gleeful anticipation.

“Oh.” Louis said after a few seconds. “Ha ha. Very funny. Over.”

“PFFWA HA HA!” Peter burst out in a spasm of laughter. “You should have heard you! Over.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, you’ve had your laugh, now no more thrashing around, alright? Like seriously, you’ll freak me out… And if you were just planning on making a fool of me, you shouldn’t have invited me on the mission… Over.”

“It’s not a ‘mission’, and I didn’t ‘invite’ you. I said I was gonna go look for pirate treasure, and then you begged to come along. Over.”

“I didn’t beg.”

“Did too.”

“You’re stupid. Over.”

“You’re a baby. Now keep lining down; I never said stop. Over.”

Louis sighed and flipped the switch again.

The winch started spinning again.

Peter continued to drop.

Five minutes later, Louis finally spoke. “Peter come in; please tell me you’re getting near the bottom…! Over!”

Peter looked over his shoulder. “No, still can’t see a thing down there, over.”

Five minutes further, Louis’s voice had a sharpness to it. “WHEN should we abort, over?”

“Would you quit it with the abort talk?” Peter snapped, and shook his fist up at the fading light. “Just keep spooling down until I tell you to stop, okay? You’ve got, like, a barjillion meters of line in your winch, and it’s rated for, what, two tons?”

“Four.”

“Four! Four tons! That’s about 100 of me! In Earth gravity! This is, like, less than half Earth gravity, so that thing should be able to hold 200 of me, easy! I’m literally in no danger at all! Over.”

“But…!”

“Just keep spooling down until I tell you to stop. Okay? Over.”

“…Okay. Over.”

“Great. Over.”

“Yeah… Yeah, great. I will. Over.”

“Over.”

“Over yourself.”

“Over times two.”

“Over infinity. Over.”

The walls were getting wider and wider still, and Peter’s light was getting no brighter. Soon, the passing rock began to fade. Nothing mysterious about it, the walls just receded further and further until they merged with the black background, leaving nothing but blurs and shadows. And as Peter waited, it seemed that even those blurs were inching their way upward, to disappear into the ever-growing darkness he’d already passed.

Only the speck of light from the distant mineshaft remained clearly visible directly above; that and whatever length of cable was near enough to be seen. A pinpoint of light piercing down at him, and the cable pointing toward it like a finger, as if to remind him that he was not some lonely spider suspended on a web, but that there was light, and company, and good solid ground awaiting him above, whenever he should choose to return.

The last glimpses of rocks passed out of sight. There may as well be no more walls. He looked over his shoulder again, hoping, if not expecting, the floor to be coming up to meet him soon. Surely the bottom must be approaching soon, right…? But it was not.

His light had become utterly useless now, with nothing else around to illuminate. And when that realization struck him, it sowed the seed of doubt. Maybe Louis’s right. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. I should abort, let him reel me back topside, come back later with the scout leader and a big crane and some huge ol’ searchlights… Yeah… Yeah, this hole, this CHASM, was bigger than I ever would have imagined, and one kid with a headlamp isn’t enough to conquer it…

No…

No, keep going, Peter.

It’s got to end sometime.

He looked up at Louis’s dot of light above him. It’s got to end sometime. It’s not bottomless.

Unease built.

It festered in the back of his mind, surged forward every once in a while to try to bring him to panic, to get him to give up, but each time he forced it back. More and more he found himself staring upwards at the spot of light. Strangely enough, it seemed to be getting reddish. As if blood were throbbing forward into his eyesockets, or as if he was gradually being engulfed in some fog, or filter. Perhaps this pit was flooded with trace amounts of some heavy, reddish gas, and as he descended the depths of it clouded over.

However it was happening, he had become utterly fixated on that spot of light, measuring how it faded and shrunk and reddened, trying to estimate when that final singular anchor would fade away.

Five more minutes passed.

You know, it was bizarre. He hadn’t noticed it quite as fast as Louis had, since he’d been hanging comfortably by his harness instead of bracing against the walls with the winch, but Louis was right: the tension in the line was decreasing.

How was it decreasing? How did that make any sense? No, he wasn’t dropping rocks from his pockets, no, the winch couldn’t be gradually accelerating, as the motor only went one speed… It didn’t make any sense.

Ten minutes.

The light… Was the light getting fainter up above? It seems that now, Peter could barely make out the pinprick of red light that was the opening of the mineshaft. There was only the cable, and himself, hanging in the black.

Nineteen minutes.

Nineteen and a half minutes.

Peter found himself staring at the timer in his helmet, waiting for the seconds to finally add up to the big two-oh, and he’d finally have a good round number to affix to his boredom, and his boredom was the excuse he would affix to his request that they finally abort this pointless plunge.

“H-hey!” He radioed up to Louis. “Y-you know dude, th-th-this is a drag. It’s been twenty minutes. Let’s just reverse it now, eh? This is getting silly! Bring me back up! Over.” It felt really good to finally say it actually; to admit that his friend was right; to give up. It felt good, in a way, to never have to discover what lay at the bottom of this hole.

But horror beyond all horrors, there was no answer!

“Louis? LOUIS! Louis, come in! Louis, do you read?!? Over!”

He was still going down!

“LOUIS COME IN!”

His friend didn’t respond, but the line kept descending, and the tension kept lowering, and the light was very, very red and kept fading, and Peter found himself in tears, crying and trembling.

He looked back over his shoulder again, but he still couldn’t see the bottom!

What’s going on?!? Why can’t Louis hear me?!? How far down does it go?!?

In a sudden flash of inspiration, he remembered; he remembered what he should have done in the first place, before ever starting into the pit. How could I forget? In all the movies, whenever anybody descends into the dark, they always throw a flare or a flashlight or a torch first! They always drop a light so they can get a gauge of how far it goes! It’s only smart! Heck, forget movies, I’m a boy scout! I should have instantly known to do that, how could I forget?!?

I still can!

With shaking hands he fumbled the emergency flare gun out of his belt, and loaded a brightly-colored canister into the barrel. Then he twisted around in the harness, pointed the gun straight downwards into the exact center of that gaping black void, and pulled the trigger.

The flare burst from the gun, and flew straight down. Gravity continuously accelerated it, and without air resistance, it kept going faster and faster, a brilliant yellow missile glowing with incredible brightness, speeding ever faster.

And continued.

And continued.

And continued.

It slowly faded from yellow to white to blue, growing steadily more distant and small and faint with the distance. Finally, after craning his neck to watch it for what felt like minutes, he found he could no longer even see it.

Good grief! Up on the surface, those flares are normally visible from kilometers out! Kilometers!

Louis was right all along! It’s bottomless! IT’S A BOTTOMLESS PIT!!

He looked back upwards. His panic, which was already skyrocketing, was suddenly compounded when he realized that he couldn’t see the light of the mineshaft anymore. He hurriedly turned off the light in his own helmet, in hopes that he could see better without the slight glare. Yes, that was it; if he killed all his own lights, he could just barely make out the mineshaft, shining like a red star high above. “Louis!” He screamed into his radio. “Louis, bring me up! It’s bottomless! You were right, it goes on forever! You gotta bring me up! Abort! LINE UP!!”

No answer.

He fumbled a second flare out of his pocket, and reloaded. Taking careful aim, the very most meticulous and steady aim, he pointed the missile directly at the patch of light. Perhaps if he could be a totally bona-fide sniper with this little flare pistol, perhaps if the flare traveled dead-center, then perhaps it would get near enough to the shaft for Louis to glimpse its glow, and realize that their radios had been somehow compromised, and reverse the line.

He fired.

The second yellow missile streaked from the gun, this time in exactly the opposite direction of the first.

It went straight up, growing redder and redder as it did.

A minute later, it returned to its yellow color as it came straight back down. It passed by Peter again not 10 meters to his left.

And it disappeared into the dark below with the other flare, once again fading to white and then blue. Now that Peter had his lights off, he thought he could still see the first flare glowing in the incredible distance. It hadn’t hit the floor yet.

Bottomless, bottomless…

He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to look at anything anymore. Wanting to exchange the hungry, malicious blackness around him for the close, comfy blackness of the backside of his eyelids. Anything to pretend he wasn’t where he was. But the silence was heavy on his ears. Louis wasn’t there any more, only the hissing of his suit’s life support, the whirring of its heater, and his own breathing. And of course he couldn’t ignore the tension in his harness; The tension is still dropping! Now it’s about half what it should be; like for some physically impossible reason the cable is just stretching and I’m falling faster and faster forever and ever and I can’t feel it! Except I can feel it! I feel like I weigh half of what I ought, like I’m halfway to the moon’s center. But that’s impossible! How could he lower me so deep? And if I’m so deep, where’s the magma?!? Oh God, how can it not have a bottom?!?

God…

That’s right, God!

Without any hesitation, Peter curled into a ball, folded the gloves of his spacesuit against his helmet, and began to pray.

“Dear God…! Dear God, come in God! God come in, I’m scared! Please help! Please help it not be bottomless!” He wondered if there was some kind of enormous monster instead of a bottom, or if the moon was hollow and infested with Aliens, or if this pit led straight to hell. “Please make Louis reverse the line!” He pleaded. “Please make it be alright again…! And…! Andandand if you don’t do any of those other things God, then please, please, please make me brave…!”

He continued down.

“Please make me brave.”

He never stopped.

“A-a-amen… Over.” He stuttered. And as his prayer finished, he knew that even through a kilometer of stone, even across the vast reaches of space, even from out of the depths of this unbelievable void, God had heard him. That’s right… God is in control… God knows where this pit leads, heck, he probably created this pit! That means he knows when I’ll reach the bottom. He knows if I’m gonna get back out or if I’m gonna die… In fact, he knew all this before I ever got up this morning. He knows what I’ll find down here, and he still loves me… God loves me. He’s still looking out for me.

Even down here.

And God answered Peter’s prayer; God made him brave.

Peter opened his eyes.

And then he turned his lights back on, and found that the empty pit wasn’t quite so empty anymore. Way off in the distance to his left and right, his lights seemed to be illuminating something… Not a bottom, but something along the walls; yes, the walls seemed to be narrowing again, at least partially… That was a good sign.

The walls got nearer.

And now that they were back in range of his light, he could see something really quite strange: they were no longer made of rock. He could scarcely believe his eyes at first, but the walls were made of metal now, shinier and more uniform. On his left side, he was currently moving past some kind of enormous, curved surface, like the flank of an incredible water tank. A line of rivets bordering a seam confirmed its artificial nature.

On his other side, there was what appeared to be some kind of weight-bearing truss, like you’d see holding up the archways of an old bridge. There was another tank beside the truss too, and what looked like a ganglion of pipes, just on the edge of the range of his light.

As he continued downward, there were other structures. There were round, rivetted tanks similar to the first one, most of them smaller and miscellaneous, but a few quite a bit larger. In between the tanks and the trusses, great cuboid somethings were bolted to trusses, and the housings and shafts of unfamiliar machinery poked out and interconnected here and there. All through the labyrinthian industrial complex, pipes of every imaginable shape and size stretched and curled.

He sure was glad that God had made him brave. With that bravery, he hazarded another communication. “Louis, be advised.” He said, just in case his friend was still able to hear him. “The tunnel walls now appear populated with mechanical structures. Looks like it could be a factory or a refining installation of some kind. Maybe something else. Not seeing any movement or people, so I think it’s abandoned. And there are no lights, so I’m assuming it’s powerless. I’m also not seeing any words or language on any of the pipes, so your guess is good as mine as to who made it… Yeah. Anyway, it’s weird. Over.”

Louis evidently didn’t hear him.

“Louis, be advised.” He continued a few minutes later. “Looks like the machinery is ending. The last of it is passing out of sight, and I’m in blackness again. It was all just on the walls, and the pit itself is still bottomless… Over.”

The tension in the line was as low as it ever had been, perhaps a quarter of his own weight. He thought back for a moment to his science classes: Newton said that if he wasn’t changing speed at all, then that means the total amount of force on him balanced out to zero. Meaning the tension in the line must be equal to his weight, which meant that he must be getting lighter. But he wasn’t losing any mass, so that means the gravity must be decreasing. Somehow.

He imagined that if it continued, he would eventually be weightless entirely. It didn’t make any sense to him how that was happening, but he understood how the affect was progressing, and it was consistent and logical in its own queer way.

It was logical. It didn’t necessarily make sense, but it made a sense.

The logic and predictability of it made him feel a little better, and he allowed himself to relax. In fact, as he rested on the end of the tether under ever-decreasing stress, the inside of his suit began to seem very comfy. Indeed, he even began to feel sleepy…

Well… I can’t keep going down forever. Louis doesn’t have infinite cable in his winch, and his winch doesn’t have infinite batteries. He’s smart enough to know when enough is enough, and he’ll bring me back up eventually.

…

Thank you, God, for making me brave.

He turned off his light to save battery power in the suit, and settled back to wait.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Genji Heavy Industries (Part 6) The Red Sea

This is my fiction writing. There is no scene like this in the novel or the game. But it could have been there.

Enjoy!

Because it involved your abilities, the earthquake preparedness system of Tokyo interested you. You understood that if enough seismic activity were detected, the Early Warning system would activate, giving more people time to seek safety from the seismic activity that could be generated by Soul Skill Eruption. So now, in the hopes of causing as few casualties as possible, you increase the pressure on the fault line at a carefully measured pace taking minutes, rather than seconds to reach the point of no return, where the pressure you were exerting would be released and the earth would move. 

As you grit your teeth in the dark of your improvised shelter of concrete and mud and exert the extreme forces of the earth, You think of Chu Zihang, Caesar, and Lu Mingfei. By this time, Chu Zihang and Caesar would know you were missing and start to look for you. Perhaps they would be trying to find this Hell floor but they wouldn’t know it even existed. It was like you had truly gone into a bottomless pit. They could run around forever and never find you.

But you hoped that Caesar would trust you to make your way out through the underground on your own without his help and get to safety. Once the earthquake hit, it would throw the Hydra in disarray. They would be too busy fighting monsters and escaping themselves to even notice the boys. They could explode the Kaguya computer core and blow things up, as many things that would make him happy to make them pay the debt for Ms. Makoto.

Your smile fades and you huff out a little whimper of a laugh. That would be way too easy and in his leisure mind, he would definitely waste time trying to find you.

All across Tokyo, television programs were interrupted with a message window showing the epicenter of an earthquake under Tokyo. On the radio, two sets of chimes sounded, followed by a voice announcement in Japanese. “This is an Earthquake Early Warning. Please prepare for powerful tremors!” Japanese major mobile phone carriers blast out text messages urging the citizens across the city to take cover now!

People flooded the streets in panic, rushing to shelters and emptying out highrises. Traffic turned from neat rows of shining cars to a snarled mess, as people panicked and collided. Everywhere, hundreds of thousands of feet pounded, creating vibrations on their own.

Five seconds later, it hit.

To most people's eyes, skyscrapers stood still on the ground, unmoving. But this is only an illusion. Skyscrapers use steel as the skeleton. The physical properties of steel are not only strong, but also flexible.  When under pressure from an external force it will naturally bend to unload the force, and then rebound. At the height of the Genji Heavy Industry building, in windy weather, the top floor will also be given a few dozen centimeters of sway. A few dozen centimeters compared to the height of the Genji Heavy Industry is insignificant. The general public will not use laser rangefinder and other sophisticated equipment to observe it, so this sway is usually ignored. But in a high-intensity earthquake, all the skyscrapers in Shinjuku district swayed the moment the shock wave passed through, like a cedar forest in a gale. 

You hold your breath in your own minishelter, feeling the pull of the enormous forces being exerted on these buildings. Each sway was a potential disaster that could mean hundreds, even thousands of lives lost, but the results were out of your hands now. Like a waiter bumping a table full of delicate crystalware, all you could do was observe the whole city as it jostled and pray.

You’re shaking from fear, exhaustion, and mental fatigue, but also lack of oxygen. The shelter was watertight as well as air tight. You force open a small hole in the top and peer out. You had formed a dome shaped earthen shelter for yourself that held back the water and shielded you from falling debris. Fresh air poured in the smell of seawater and fish.

Z was gone. All around you the whole basement was flooded save for the section surrounded by your little levee. A few red emergency lights illuminated the shattered tank and bits of glass block and made them look like you were floating in an extremely large pool of blood.   The tank wall was gone and the room that was already large now seemed more like a baseball stadium in size.

Through your spiritual feelers, you could detect the frequency of vibrations that your mind could interpret as sound. Many muffled voices were desperately screaming and yelling and pounding on doors.

There were still so many people in this building. Why had they not evacuated? The ground was full of tension. Aftershocks were sure to come and there was no way you could stop them. These people needed to get to shelter! Hydra were so organized even by Japanese standards. This disarray was unusual.

You’re struck with a sudden vertigo and dizziness. Your mind becomes aware of the smallness of your body, while at the same time it is still aware of the vast depth of the earth beneath you. You try to take deep breaths against the wave of nausea but the food you ate in the elevator comes up in a single heave. You lay down against the levee and clutch your head against the stabbing behind your eyes. Cluster headaches were normal and actually a good sign that the blood vessels in your head were still working. If you didn’t feel anything, it was likely you had lost too much brain function to ever recover. But they also made it impossible to move or think about escaping. After using such an apocalyptic force you were rendered as weak as a child.

You close your eyes and feel your tired brain rebound from your body back to the residual spiritual energy in the Earth. Every time your mind returns to the earth,you hear something strange. It was as if a long river of metal was flowing underground and scraping against rock, except his metal river hissed with powerful breath. It growled with menace at the same time it breathed, as though there were many of them. 

Something massive was moving near Tokyo. It was underground. It was alive.

In that moment, another sound hits you, a loud explosion, followed by gunfire. This time it was much nearer by. The sound echoed down from the elevator shaft. Because it was connected to the building, these sounds were reverberating through the ground. By the time they reached you they were quite faint, but wherever they were coming from, it must have been a very loud noise.

Caesar and Chu Zihang could be engaging with the enemy, or maybe the Hydra were engaging with the monsters. Either way, you have to start making your way out.

The water surrounding you was going to be a problem. Any hole you made at this point would be immediately flooded. Before you could tunnel out, you needed to move the water away and drain it.

A movement catches your eye. One of the floating blocks of glass is spinning rapidly in the opposite direction from the other floating bits. Something knocked into it. You freeze, gasping in fear, and reach for your pistols. With shaking hands, you start to load them with mercury laden armor piercing rounds. Your eyes scan the dark water but every wave could be concealing a serpentine creature. The floating glass created their own ripples. Plus, you were surrounded by water.

A loose bit of metal detached from the glass wall of the tank. It fell, colliding with a piece of concrete slab sticking out of the water with a soft clang. A three meter long tail thrashed wildly and an invisible shape formed a clear wake in the deep water as fast as a jet ski. It exploded from the water. Its claws were like scythes and serrated. It’s golden scales were like copper in the crimson light.

The creature's upper body was six feet long, so that made it a good fifteen feet, enough to rival a saltwater crocodile. It lifted the piece of metal and bit down and the steel deformed between its teeth. Infuriated that this actually was not edible, it flung it high in the air where it twinkled for a moment before descending. After a few seconds, you hear a small splash somewhere else in the room. The beast screeches and dives in the water, heading for the splash it didn’t realize it made itself, soaking you in the process.

Huge, fierce, strong, reactive… stupid. You recall Z’s play with these creatures. They reacted to light and sound very strongly and they were also cannibals. The emergency lights largely meant that there was no power in this place and a quick glance upward at the now-still and silent ventilation fans seemed to suggest the same. The pumps and siphons that managed the tank were shut down. But that may not last either. 

So long as that thing was swimming around there’s no way you’d be able to work. It had to die. You had your guns and your ammunition and you also had a little C4 and a detonator. You remove your trenchcoat and pin it to the levee with a pocket knife. Then you adhere a bit of the C4 to the coat. Once everything was set up. You whistle loudly.

The beast’s roar echoed and  you duck as low into the water as you can. It flies beneath the water toward the flapping windbreaker and seizes it, tearing it away from the knife and stuffing it down it’s throat. You press the detonator. It was so fast to swallow the bait that the C4 must have been half way down its throat. The lower half of the monster’s head shatters in a bloody spray and bits and pieces of it plunk into the water. The beast howls and chokes, still alive but unable to bite, only flailing about uselessly.

You’d scarcely begun to smile when the wake of something else slips by you. Fortunately you’d been standing still so it didn't notice you were there. Another monster of the same kind reared up out of the water and bit down on the other injured animal. While they were both distracted you ran away. Every step sent water slapping and splashing in all directions.

You were heading for the control panel. There was a long wiring run that ran up the wall through metal pipes attached by bracing. You should be able to climb it! You don’t dare look back but take a flying leap and hit the wall. Your fingertips just barely grasp the braces holding up the wiring run. When you look down, the uninjured sphinx is waving its claws just inches from your swaying feet.

But then it’s pulled back! The other sphinx with the half head is now missing part of its right arm but  has pulled your pursuer by the tail and slams its claws into its head piercing its eye while it screamed and flailed its forked tongue. It pulled the eye out. The nerve still dangled like a bloody root. It popped the eye into its upturned throat. It didn't need a lower jaw to eat that.

Using just the strength in your arms and shoulder, you pull yourself to the next brace. Soon you’re swinging precariously 20 feet in the air. From this vantage point you can see that under the water is a massive pile of glass and steel rubble. The water actually isn’t that deep and if you fell from this height, you would probably die due to impact with the debris. But at least now you could see the entire complex. 

It looked like most of the sphinxes were gone from the cavern, only these two were left. But then the world goes blurry. Once again you’re hit with vertigo! You moan softly and squeeze your eyes shut as the room tilts and your mind reacts to movement in the earth. The ground was filled with great tension, like the tension a cold person feels right before they shiver.

Your eyes snap open. Aftershock!

You didn’t have much time. A powerful aftershock could easily shake you off the wiring run and kill you.There was a small ledge next to the ventilation fans. But it was a good distance from the last brace. You wouldn’t be able to just leap frog up to it.

The two beasts below were still locked in a battle but the one eyed monster was winning. Unable to bite and now missing a limb, the one injured by the C4 was grasped by its head and tail while its opponent ripped bloody chunks out of its flesh with its shining bald head.

It wasn’t even swallowing the meat. This was a vengeful tearing apart!.

Finally, it dropped the lifeless body into the water and turned back to you. It hissed, baring its red tipped fangs. It’s body undulated once and reached the wall. It climbed with spider-like alacrity, claws plunging straight into the concrete like it was soft mud. It only took a second to reach your height. It lashed out and you rocked away from it’s claws, coming inches from being disemboweled. It leaped to the side to pounce on you!

And it fell short. The single eye made it lose depth perception!

With a mighty heave you lift yourself upward by your arms. The flat of your foot smashes into its face and using that as a springboard you make it to the ventilation ledge!

The strong aftershock hit the Genji Heavy Building and pounded it. Cracks spread through the reinforced concrete structure, steel was shorn, water pipes burst, steam and cold wind filled the air. The monster was knocked off balance by the sudden quake and plunged twenty feet to be skewered by a piece of steel that was bent upward. It wiggled it’s long serpent body, curling silently like a worm on a hook for a few seconds before it began to scream, a single high pitched note. Over and over and over. 

A single shot to the eye and it goes limp. You hold the gun at the ready, just in case another was needed, but there was no more sound.

You lie on the ledge to catch your breath. But you couldn’t rest. You weren’t done. You had to drain the water.

With what little residual spiritual energy you had left remaining in the earth, you use it to form a channel under the wall, forming a pipette that would hopefully lower the water level. You wave your hand and from a distance your eyes glow gold. Mud rolls in hills pushing the water towards the channel. It takes a long time, several minutes. Meanwhile, you can feel yourself getting more and more dizzy. More and more sleepy and less able to think.

An extremely loud sound banging and crashing is getting nearer and nearer. Something big was falling down the elevator shaft! It crashed with such force that the car folded like an accordion on and one door was blown out, flipped and landed with a loud splash.

Blood oozed from the resulting debris and a golden clawed hand fell limp. You take a few deep breaths and crawl back to the wiring pipe and slide down it easily. You cautiously sift your way through the debris.

By looking at the elevator shaft can feel the scale of the building, the elevator shaft of ordinary buildings are only three or four elevators, elevator shaft area of no more than twenty square meters, but the source of The levator shaft can accommodate more than a dozen elevators at the same time. So it has an area of more than a hundred square meters. In this one hundred square meters hundreds of high-strength angle steel columns stood in the middle of the steel crossbeam. This kind of high-rise building uses super high-speed elevators, and the metal cars pass up and down at a high speed of 5 meters per second, reminding people of the future cities in science fiction. 

You sniffle. Red drops of blood come from your nose. You no longer had the strength to create a tunnel. But you could crawl up above ground and find a way out that way.

The elevator was pitch black and impossible to see inside like an endless starless sky. The idea of climbing up such a massive shaft would be impossible for an ordinary human. But even in your state of fatigue and pain, it wasn’t too far to go when it came to distance. It was just vertical. 

You step over the dead sphinx. Its upper half was in the shape of a woman's body and it’s guts were torn out of it. It was missing limbs and the skin of its face was falling off in a flap. This beast was never a danger to you. It must have been torn to shreds and fallen. It was dead before it hit the ground bottom of the shaft. It served as a warning to you. It would not just be a matter of climbing the elevator shaft out of the Basement called Hell level. The elevator shaft was another level of Hell!

You check your weapons briefly, go to the back of the shaft where the rail created a sort of ladder and start climbing.