#but so far the most impactful one that never leaves my mind is the dumbass tree song | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

soleilnomoon · 3 years ago

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intrude ; jean x reader.

4.2k words, fem reader, nsfw - public sex, (slight) degradation, oral (m. receiving), other cute things like profanity, annoying pet names, spanking, hatred, jealousy; jean is a dumbass and a mean bitch. a summary (of sorts): jean jumps to conclusions but refuses to admit it.

fic request for @strawhatsoraya *washes hands* here is your part 2, it's out of my hands now previous ⤹ | next ⤹

morning disrupts your peaceful slumber, your body sluggish and heavy—it feels like you’ve been out for twelve hours. in reality, it’s only been five. you never sleep through the night, but this is the most you’ve slept in ages. when you lift your head, you realize you spent the night in his room, your legs still tangled with his. much too intimate for your liking. you assume he was drunk, or worse—out of his mind, perhaps—and you scramble off of the bed, away from his hold, your cheeks on fire as you put some distance between you.

tripping over your feet, you manage to get to the door and bolt out of the room as quickly as you can. you bump into the other members of your squad, ignoring their questions, not wanting to think about him or anything related to him right now. you’re a little peeved, but you try to keep that to a minimum, not wanting to take out your frustrations on anyone that doesn’t deserve your wrath. even as you shower, your mood never lifts; you replay the events from last night over and over, wondering what possessed you.

maybe it was residual fatigue from getting lost far from the village? or maybe, it just felt nice to be held like that. you’re not sure; but what you are sure of, is that you will never, ever make that mistake twice.

you scrub your skin raw, needing to feel something other than the uneasiness that swells in your stomach, making you jittery and nervous throughout the morning. after accidentally bumping into armin, the stack of ceramic plates in his hands slip, falling one by one onto the floor. they shatter on impact, the hardwood flooring littered with bits and pieces of the shiny, glazed plates—sharp, ready to dig into anyone that bothers to clean it up.

levi’s words are severe, unrelenting as he berates you all day long for your clumsiness. you blame jean. it’s his fault, he always distracts you; and now you’re on levi’s shit list, which is the worst place to be these days. he’s always irate, as if he has a chip on his shoulder—and you might be imagining things, but you notice his annoyance seems to intensify whenever he leaves out of erwin’s office.

not that it’s any of your business, anyway.

you’ve got bigger fish to fry.

it’s late in the afternoon when he finally runs into you. jean peers down at you, a scowl on his face, displeasure etched into every line; eyebrow twitching, sneering as he gets in your face. “cute trick,” he says, jaw clenching once the words leave his mouth.

confusion wrapped in annoyance swirls around your body. “what’s that supposed to mean?” you don’t like his tone, the way his ocher eyes take in your entire body, or the accompanying shiver that shoots through you like a meteor.

jean scoffs at you maliciously, unimpressed by the way you’re pretending to not remember. “your disappearing act.” his nonchalance slaps at you repeatedly, it shouldn’t affect you but it does. badly. “couldn’t wait to get away from me, huh?” his voice drops to a whisper, but his words still carve themselves inside of you; you clench your teeth so hard, suffering under his menacing aura—the one that he hides from the world until he snaps.

you take a tentative step backwards and then realize, belatedly, that he has you cornered. the hallway is dim enough to , untouched by open windows or artificial lighting. your back touches the wall, hands trembling as you ball them into fists—hoping to calm down fast enough to think of an escape plan. you don’t know why you’re nervous, you’ve been around him more times than you could ever count. but something about his demeanor, about the way he crowds your space, the forceful way he slams his hands on either side of your head, the sound thundering in your ears, making it difficult to focus; something about that flips a switch inside of you.

it’s baffling, to say the least, but you won’t back down—you can’t, your pride is on the line.

when you look up, all he sees is defiance; and for some reason, it makes him want to stamp it out of you. “well?” he taunts, dark brow raising afterward.

your tongue darts out, moistening your lips; you need to think fast. jean isn’t the sort to get fooled easily, so you fix your expression, and opt for a bored look instead. “you’re boring me, can you hurry it up?” you hope that he buys that, and that he doesn’t see through your flimsy façade—or see the way your thighs press together subtly. this is too much, even for you.

you needed to get away; why haven’t you gotten away yet?

for a moment, jean says nothing—a little stunned that you said that—but when it clicks for him, all he can do is smile slyly. that stupid butterfly in your chest multiplies two, the wings flapping around and stirring up your anxiety. you inhale deeply, taking in his scent and regretting it immediately. you wish he smelled bad so you could find a reason to tell him off. but he doesn’t. all you want to do is press closer and—

no. you refrain from doing any of that, face steeled as you feign mild annoyance—going so far as to purse your lips. but jean sees through all of that; the false bravado, the aloofness, the restraint. he almost pities you, almost wants to tell you that you don’t have to keep trying because nothing you do is working. but he doesn’t.

his silence is somehow more intense than you thought it would be, and loud. so, so loud. “can you move? i need to find eren.” as soon as the name leaves your mouth, you regret it. it was unintentional on your part—you just said the first name that popped into your head, but the damage is done. irreparable. jean’s eyes narrow harshly at your words, a dark cloud hovering over him; he pulls his hand off of the wall, grips your throat tightly, rough fingers pressing into your skin. the pain is practically nonexistent, almost as if you’ve wanted this very scenario to happen to you. as your lips part, your eyelids flutter and prevent any attempt you make to stay coherent.

“it would be eren, wouldn’t it?” he knows he should let you go and should probably think a little more before speaking, but he won’t—he’s so damn irritated and aroused that he doesn’t know how to handle it. “answer me,” he demands roughly, thumb pressing hard on a particular spot, causing you to let out a startled moan. the sound has his cock straining against his pants, erection thick as it presses against you.

you’re a little lightheaded from the way he’s holding you against the wall, but he releases you suddenly and you take another deep breath, heart pounding much too loudly in your chest for it to be considered normal. “it’s actually none of your business, jean.” you tilt your head up so you can glare at him properly. “i can talk to whoever the fuck i want, whenever the fuck i want. got it?” you hope that’ll be enough to deter him, enough to make him leave you behind and seek out another—the thought of that brings a sour taste to the back of your throat. you don’t bother unpacking that at all.

all the while, jean watches you carefully, a quiet anger pouring out of him, the waves nearly knocking you over; your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you consider your options. there aren’t many, and you don’t know if they’ll work, but you’ll try anything. you’re a little lost in thought, so you let out a genuine whimper when he grabs your chin roughly and yanks your lip free. “i swear, all you know how to do is run your fucking mouth.” you blink stupidly at him, all of your thoughts coming to a halt. “don’t bother denying it,” he says when you try to speak again, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, your fingers digging into his shirt, “keep fucking talking.” his breath is a welcomed warmth against your skin, your hips moving forward, lightly making contact with the bulge in his pants. “by the time i’m done with you, you’ll be too tired to move your mouth.”

something about his words felt like a devious promise that he’s threatening you with; you should slap him for it, maybe even break his arm, anything. jean licks the spot right underneath your earlobe and you inhale sharply; this shouldn’t happen, you don’t even understand how you let yourself get into this mess. but here you are, panting in the back of a hallway, a dull ache making its way to your abdomen, the front of your panties dampening as a result. when he ruthlessly sucks on your skin, you clench your thighs together and swallow back a moan.

absolutely impossible. if he ever finds out, you’ll never hear the end of it.

admiring the mark he left behind with a smirk, he allows his hands to travel along your curves until they glide around and grab your ass. he’s wanted to do that for so, so long, and now that he’s had his chance, he wants to do it again. “tell me,” he says once his lips brush against yours, “why eren?” your breathing turns shallow and you make one last ditch attempt at saving yourself.

you push against his chest, irritation bubbling underneath your skin when he doesn’t budge. “like i said previously,” you say with as much venom as you can muster, “i can talk to whoever the fuck i want. you don’t have a say in that.” it’s infuriating having to repeat yourself; jean’s behavior should alarm you—scare you, even—and maybe it does, but you’re also someone who doesn’t know when to stop.

you’re also a big fan of taking risky gambles.

he grabs your face, fingers digging into your skin harshly; you claw at his arms as he brings your mouth close to his. “that’s the thing, bunny,” he says before biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. you slap a hand on his chest, and he laughs viciously at your half-hearted attempt. the nickname drives you up the walls—he knows that, it’s why he’s using it. you hate him a little more because of that. “i’m gonna ruin you,” he says a little louder, his hand sliding down so he can caress your face, “so that the only name you’ll remember is mine.”

jean runs his tongue along your bleeding lip, the sting tolerable as he laps it all up; when he finally kisses you, his tongue lunges unexpectedly into your mouth—he swallows your surprise, all of your irritation, and each moan that follows. that familiar, coppery taste compels you to let him have his way just this once. drowning pathetically in his openmouthed kisses, your body growing hot, the desire suddenly too much for you. his cock throbs from neglect, the erection making him erratic and nonsensical. it’s all very thrilling, and you’re so pliant it almost feels unreal.

pulling away from you is difficult, but he manages just fine. his fingers sift through your hair, tangling around your curls and pulling on it to get your attention.

“kneel.”

he gives you a bit of room and you sink to your knees in front of him; you don’t know why you’re listening, but it’s almost as if you’re a marionette—he pulls on your strings with a sharp elegance, making your throat dry quickly. you undo his pants, tugging down with his underwear, watching as they slide down his hips and eventually pool around his ankles. his cock is impressive, a large bead of precum dripping out of his slit, the thickness of the head calling out to you devilishly.

you look up at him, a little demure, but mostly excited—although you’re not sure if it’ll fit in your mouth. jean grabs your hair again.

“open.”

his husky voice sends a shockwave through your body, his tone and cadence dark, yet alluring. your lips part and once you open your mouth wider, he shoves his cock inside with a single, reckless thrust. you gag, hands flying to his thighs, nails sinking into his skin, making him hiss but the pleasure overrides the bit of pain. your eyes threaten to close as he starts moving his hips, cock quickly sliding in and out of your mouth. you relax your jaw, opening your throat to accommodate for his length. he yanks on your hair, eyes wild with lust, drool dribbling onto your chin. “open your fucking eyes, don’t you dare try to run from me.”

again, he’s saying impossible things. it’s not that you want to run, it’s that your pussy is so wet you’re going to explode at any moment. he pulls out of you and you use your hands to stroke him immediately, twisting and turning around his length, enjoying the deep groans that drift out of his mouth. you run your tongue flat against the head of his cock, licking his precum, and moan when you start sucking on his tip. “fuck…,” he bites down onto his lip, cursing again under his breath. “this is turning you on, isn’t it?” he asks, his mind in a haze, voice low; the way you’re just taking him in that pretty little mouth of yours pushes him dangerously to the edge.

“wonder what i’ll find if you pull down your pants, hm?”

as your eyes widen at him, you remind yourself how much you fucking hate, hate, hate him right now. your expression is priceless; it’s exactly what he’s been waiting for. you try so hard to dislike him, but he knows the truth; has known for some time, but it’s great that he gets to witness your silent confession.

“ohh,” he drawls before cooing at you wickedly, “pretty bunny, don’t you wanna show me how much you’re enjoying yourself?” there’s nothing gentle or sweet about what he’s asking you. “or,” and his expression changes to something dark, possessive even as he pulls your head back, his grip on your hair tight enough to make you wince, “is that something you’re saving to show eren later?” the idea sinks its claws into his mind, making him too stupid to see reason. you want to roll your eyes, but you’re pissed off too. his cock is still standing firm, taunting you with its size.

“fuck off, jean,” you hiss, eyes burning with frustration, “i told y—” he grabs your arm and hauls you to your feet effortlessly—the strength on this man absurd, yet you marvel at it.

“and i already told you,” he grunts angrily, cupping you crudely through your pants, your hips jerking forward at the contact, “stop fucking talking. you speak when i tell you to speak.”

brows furrowed, lips parting, argument already lodged in the back of your throat, he slides his hand inside your pants, fingers tugging your panties to the side and swiping at your slick folds. his touch is electric, divine and hellish all rolled into one; you don’t even care that he’s talking like that, you just want him to keep touching you.

“that’s what i fucking thought,” he says as fondly as a man like him can, teasing your clit before plunging a finger inside of you. his lips are on yours again, an addict seeking out his drug of choice, kissing you fervently, euphoria bursting inside of you as he inserts another finger. jean plunges his fingers in and out lazily, drawing out tiny cries of pleasure from you; your muffled moans only encourage him to curl his fingers a certain way and your pussy clenches around him in warning. it doesn’t phase him, though, as he keeps fingerfucking you like that, wrist bent, your clit bumping against his palm as he scissors his fingers inside of you.

“now,” his mouth pressed against your ear, his smooth voice eliciting a shudder that shakes you to your core, “i’ll give you one chance, so answer wisely.” you nod, barely paying attention, more focused on the waves of pleasure that wash over you with each thrust of his fingers. “who has your pussy dripping and begging to be fucked in the middle of this hallway?” when you open your mouth to respond, jean picks up the pace, your hips rolling faster, heart beating hard enough to put you into a coma.

“ahh,” you yell out, causing him to laugh and laugh, until you finish with: “g-god, god, fuck…”

he grunts in displeasure, pressing his forehead against yours, as he says menacingly, “wrong fucking answer.” after he inserts a third finger, you lose it entirely, falling apart on his hand, tears rolling down your cheeks, your legs barely able to carry you. he works you through the orgasm, you hold onto him in desperation, because you know if you don’t, you’ll fall. his thumb grazes your clit and you leap out of your skin, the stimulation too much, your pussy sensitive after cumming like that.

but, jean, being impossibly jean, doesn’t care. he rubs your clit slowly, watching you tremble like a fawn that can’t get the grasp of walking yet. “i said i’d only give you one chance to get it right,” he licks the tears that roll down your cheeks.

“s-sorry, i’m sorry,” you sob, unable to take the overstimulation, your pussy aching, a fierce jolt of arousal clouding your mind, making it difficult to think straight. “please, jean, i can’t.”

he doesn’t let up for a while and when he removes his fingers, he admires the way your arousal sticks to his skin. “see that, bunny? remember that the next time you touch yourself when i’m not around.” you watch him as he slides his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean; it’s such an erotic sight, the way his throat bobs as he swallows, you can’t believe you spent so much time fighting him all those years.

before you can stop yourself, you lean forward on your tiptoes and kiss him sloppily, tongue seeking his, sucking on it almost immediately. he moans against your lips, allows you to taste yourself on him, helping him tug your pants and wet panties off in a hurry. you’ve really forgotten that anyone can catch you if they meander back there and poke their head around the corner. still, you get lost in him; he’s taken you for an exhilarating ride, one that you don’t want to end.

his cock still painfully hard, he turns you around; you place your hands on the wall and lean forward, arching your back so your hips and ass are angled properly. it’s on impulse that he brings his hand down hard and slaps your ass, the impact making it jiggle around in a way that mesmerizes him. you never thought you’d find that sort of punishment pleasurable, but with jean everything spins out of your control—you barely know who you are anymore.

rubbing his tip in between your folds, you moan out his name, and he laughs because it’s so ironic—you fought him so hard earlier, and now look at you. “you’re being so good, y’know that?” and good behavior deserved rewards. with one hand on your hip, grabbing it hard enough to probably leave behind a bruise, he slips his cock into your warm entrance, bit by bit, sucking in a breath in surprise. part of him wants to take his time, to have you adjust to his size properly, to give you something better than what he has planned—but the other part of him, the fiendish, petty part, doesn’t care about that. and it’s that part that pulls the strings; jean buries his cock inside of you deeply, the thrust making your toes curl in your boots.

your whimpers only make him snap his hips again, harder, a breathy moan spilling from your lips; he bites your earlobe and whispers, “if you keep this up, everyone will hear you.” your eyes widen in realization, you try to keep your voice down, but jean seems entirely too interested in fucking you senseless. your eyes roll back and his lips press kisses on your neck. you want to tell him that it’s because of him that you’re having a hard time keeping quiet. if his cock wasn’t hitting that delicious spot, if his balls slapping against you didn’t turn you on, if you could actually be pissed by his shitty attitude, you’d be better off.

but that’s not the case, is it?

he likes seeing you like this, completely at his mercy, pussy on display for no one else but him. he grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss, his mouth whispering filthy promises as his thrusts become less rhythmic and more incendiary. you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, and as you’re writhing beneath him, you’re prepared to embrace another orgasm. “j-jean,” you pant, voice strained and hoarse.

“tell me what you need,” he coaxes, giving you short strokes that has your pussy clamping down tightly around him. “fuck, bunny, you really wanna cum again, huh?”

you nod weakly, too tired to say anything, and too drunk off of him to bother trying.

he drives into you roughly, fucking you like he hates you—and maybe he does, a little; you do piss him off, but not in the way he claims. it’s more complicated than he cares to think about. he brings you the sort of high you can’t find anywhere else, he places a hand over your mouth just before you let out a scream. you bite his palm hard, your body trembling violently as your orgasm leaves you breathless, his laughter reminding you that he’s still in control. “shit…,” he says airily, his stomach tightening as he slams his cock into you, bloodthirsty, vengeful, outright disrespectful—

yet at the same time, it makes you feel impossible, unattainable things; he was right, about saying he would ruin you. you can’t imagine anyone making you feel the way he has. he doesn’t bother pulling out, instead choosing to cum inside of you. his releases a shaky breath, grinning as he takes in the sight of you; tear-stained face, bruised lips, face the epitome of ecstasy. “hey,” he says loud enough to snap you out of your daze, “look at the mess we’ve made together.” your eyes drift lower and you whimper as he pulls his cock out of you, cum running down the insides of your thighs; it’s a sight to see, really.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen such a lewd, filthy scene before in your life.

it’s shameful the way you like it. he turns you around again, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you from falling. you press your forehead on his chest, trying to catch your breath. it’s clear you’re having a heart attack; the way you can’t seem to take in enough air can’t be healthy.

you shoot him a sharp glare, to which he smiles wolfishly at. “got somethin’ to say?” he raises a thick, dark brown eyebrow, challenging you to say something contrary.

to your credit, whatever you want to tell him never makes it out of your mouth—you mentally remind yourself to just just tell him off another time. guilt has jean feeling a tiny bit of regret once he sees the marks he’s left on your neck and hips. still, he warned you several times—his patience reached its limits the night before, and then you left and he got pissy over it, thinking the worst, and seeking you out all day. despite all of that, he knows he needs to make things right. kind of.

“too rough?”

you can’t believe he’s actually asking that now of all times. “what do you think?” your sass comes back full force, although your voice is scratchy, and it hurts to move your mouth. but him? he just chuckles quietly at your plight.

“i see your mouth is working just fine again,” his voice has a sharp edge to it, making you gulp as you fix yourself. the fact that you let jean fuck you like that will haunt you forever. he’s still handsome as ever, even as he tucks himself back into his pants, even as he grabs you and kisses you fiercely, stealing your rationality all over again. you’re not sure if you’ll ever get tired of him kissing you—which is a fucking problem, obviously.

“you’re an ass,” you say swiftly and duck away from him. “but, i don’t totally hate you now.” your face flushes when you see cum on the floor; you need to get out of there. “i need ten business days to recover, so leave me alone until then.” it’s all he hears you say when you scurry off, desperate to shower so you can shriek under the water and try to not think of ways to intentionally piss jean off again. you’re too ashamed to face him, so you’ll do your best to avoid him for as long as you can—or else everyone will know just how badly he has you wrapped around his finger. and you’d rather die than anyone find that out.

#snk smut #aot smut #snk imagine #snk x y/n #snk x reader #jean krischtein #jean x reader #jean x y/n #fic request #it's finally done; i'm free; jean is just as much of a bastard as erwin is i'm realizing #‘i can change him’ 🥴#jean kirschtein x y/n #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein smut

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ground-riot-jack · 4 years ago

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Number 1 | K. Bakugou |

idk what this is man, an origin story maybe?? idk bakugou is an asshole and reader is a badass

The ratings where in, this is it, the big moment. After years of hard work and dedication, you’re finally about to find out if you made it the number Number 1 Hero Spot. You walk out on the stage with the other Top 5 heroes, one being your long term boyfriend, Bakugou. You’d been dating since highschool and worked at the same agency that he created.

“And for our number 2 Hero, we have...Ground Zero! Number 1... Angel! Thank you heroes for protecting and sacrificing your lives for us!” The announcer practically yelled at the large crowd of people.

You couldn’t believe it. You did it. You were the number 1 hero in all of Japan and your boyfriend was right behind you. The lights of the stage felt like power surging through your body. Your large white wings fluttered in excitement. You took your place at the number one podium and felt warm tears of joy stream down your face, you feel pata on your back and can hear congratulations swirling around but you can barely stand up straight.

Soon someone hands you a microphone, the crowd quieting down.

“Thank you all so much, I will work hard every single day until my body gives up to make sure this great nation is protected. I’ve worked very hard to get here so thank you all for recognizing my hard work and determination. I wanna thank Ground Zero, for being the best partner and for helping me get where I am. It won’t be easy but I will take this number 1 spot and wear it with pride. Thank you, i love you all” You spill out happily, you turn and grab onto Katsuki, hugging him and congratulating him on Number 2. You’d both climbed so high and so quickly since you’re UA days, it’s made you happy that you’ve come so far with the person you love most.

Bakugou however, didn’t look happy. It was extremely rare to see a smile on his face, but at the very least you’d expected his bored face. But now, he looked angry. He looked like he was ready to level the city withy he scowl pressed on his face.

“babe, what’s wrong? you good?” You grab his large bicep, getting him to look at you. His bright red eyes snap to yours and you feel locked in with how much animosity they hold.

“I’m ready to go home” He spits out before turning and walking back to the car you’d both arrived in.

You took a few more pictures with fans before following your grumpy boyfriend. As soon as you sat in the car, you could feel the tension thick in the air.

“Ok seriously babe, what the hell is wrong? We got the top spots, that’s amazing!” You turn towards him as the driver head back to your place.

“It’s nothing” He managed to say through his teeth with his are locked together with how tight he’s clenching his jaw.

“It’s something, you’re getting ready to blow this car up”

“I said it’s nothing, Angel” He speaks, the name oozing in malice and anger. Suddenly it clicked.

“You’re jealous that I got the number one spot while you got number two. jesus christ katsuki, could you be any more pessimistic. Why can’t you just be happy for me that i’ve reached a goal i’ve been trying to get my whole life? Number two is in no way shape or form bad.” You huff and fall back against the seat, you watch Bakugou clench and unclench his fists while staring out the window.

“I have to be number one and be better than All Might” He growls quietly, you knew it was a somewhat sensitive subject, but you couldn’t believe your ears.

“All might? Katsuki, you’re 23 years old, you can’t truly expect to be better than All Might right now? All might wasn’t even this good at this age yet, you’re way ahead of schedule. You can’t be happy for me because you wanna be better at 22 years old than All Might was in his prime? You’re delusional katsuki.”

“I HAVE TO BE NUMBER ONE”

“THATS FINE BUT WHY CANT YOU BE HAPPY THAT TOUR GIRLFRIEND IS NUMBER ONE?”

“BECAUSE IT SHOULD BE ME”

“so you think I don’t deserve this katsuki? You think what? I haven’t worked hard enough? I’m nor strong enough? I’m not good enough? WHAT IS IT KATSUKI? Why don’t I deserve to be number one? Why do you think your were unfairly judged?”

You both stared at each other in silence for a while, anger boiling into the atmosphere. You understood the only thing that drove bakugou in highschool was his need to be number one. You were both adults now, and you were in love with each other. You’d hoped that you’d made a big enough impact on bakugou that your life and love together would be enough of a motivator to be great, the way it was with you.

You felt that car pull into your large home, and immediately jumped out, racing up to your shared bedroom. You got out of your hero costume and into leggings and a tank top. You took off all your makeup and picked the confetti out of your wings. You looked up as Bakugou walked in the room.

“Im not sorry that I’m not settling for number two, I never will and you know it, but i am sorry for yelling at you and the way I acted.” Katsuki grumbled while looking at the floor. Usually, his awkward and hesitant apologies warmed your heart and made you gush at how cute your angry boyfriend was, but now you find yourself staying angry.

“That’s not an apology katsuki. You refuse to be happy for me, even though you promised you would be. You refuse to even acknowledge how much work I put into this to be number one. I am THE youngest Hero to hit number one and you can’t even say good job babe. Instead you get angry and jealous and mean because it wasn’t you. Never mind the fact that you jumped from 10 to 2 which is THE biggest jump anyone’s seen in years bakugou. You won’t even let yourself be happy at what you’ve done, because you’re too busy being jealous” You poke his chest, finally standing in front of him.

“It’s not a bad thing to want to be the best” He crosses his arms, getting defensive.

“Of course not babe, I want you to be the best too. So why don’t you want me to be the best?”

“It’s not that, it’s-“

“It’s what Katsuki?”

“I made a promise to myself-”

“YOU MADE A PROMISE TO ME KATSUKI. You gave me this fucking promise ring and told me that you you’re gonna support me no matter what. That we were gonna work hard to get to where we need to go and we were gonna do it together. You promised me you’d be by my side. That’s the difference between us babe. You need to be number one for yourself, I need to be number one for us. You’ve forgotten that” You wipe your tears and move around the tall man in your way. It hurt that Katsuki couldn’t see this was bigger than his highschool days. This was your life together. You hadn’t spoken to All Might or even Midoriya in years, so why was it so hard for him to accept you as a permanent part of his life.

“Baby, i’m sorry I just. I get one track minded and I was so hopeful that this was finally the day. I needed so bad to be number one-“

“THIS IS NO LONGER ABOUT BEING NUMBER ONE KATSUKI, THIS IS ABOUT HOW YOU CANT SEE THAT YOURE TREATING ME LIKE A SIDE CHARACTER. I AM YOUR GIRLFRIEND!! For fucks sake katsuki, we live, work, sleep, eat do and do everything together, so the fact that I’m not even one of the reasons you go out and do what you do hurts because this” You pause and gestured to everything around you. “This is the reason I wake up every morning, you are the reason I fight crime and your reason is, a childhood rivalry. You’re am adult now, you’re supposed to be friends with midoriya and all might and you’re supposed to be over this whole thing. This isn’t supposed to be the thing that drives you. I’m not saying I have to be too of the list but it would be nice to be on the list” You sigh and look at your boyfriend. You knew this wasn’t healthy to yell at each other like this, but you needed him to understand where you’re coming from.

“Baby, Of course you’re my reason for waking up and being a hero, I would do anything to protect you, it’s just I always pictured me at Number 1 with my agency and you and a family. I have a need, a primal urge to be number one and that’s never going to change. Doesn’t mean i don’t love your dumbass”

“Well I’m number one Katsuki, and I earned the hell out of it. I worked my ass off day and night for weeks and months and years so that I could have this. And to see you pout and complain and look me in my face and tell me you don’t think I deserve this spot hurts more than some cute little apology where you call me dumbass lovingly. So i’ll ask you again, why don’t you think I deserve this spot? What makes you better?” You squinted your eyes at the tall man and clench your jaw.

“Im physically stronger-“ You interrupt your boyfriend by grabbing his arm and kicking his legs out from under him, using your wings to flip him over in his back, pinning him down.

“You’re so close minded katsuki, that you don’t even know what i’ve. been doing for the past 8 months. I an the number one hero you think i didn’t train to be stronger than everyone around me?” You ask, hurt laced in your voice.

“Fine, you deserve this spot. You’re the best.”

“You dont meant that, I’m gonna make you fucking mean it Katsuki. One day you’re gonna see me and i’m gonna be the best and you’re gonna be in awe of my power and then you’ll finally see that i deserve this.” You push off of him and stand up your wings tucking close to your body.

“Just-give me a week babe. I promise I’ll make it up to you and I’ll show you I am happy for you, it’s just difficult being let down like this. I’m a sore loser and you know it.” Bakugou grabs your shoulder and pulls you close to his chest.

“You haven’t even said you’re proud of me yet. or that you love me. or even good job katsuki. You don’t believe i’m your heart that i deserve this do you?” You look at him, heart in your throat.

“I believe I should be number one. Every time.” Katsuki mutters in your hair like it was a compliment. You push him back, rage filling your body.

“You’re fucked up katsuki. I’m fucking leaving” You spit, throwing on a jacket and shoes, heading towards your front door.

“Where the hell are you going?!” Bakugou snarls as you move past him.

“Katsuki, I love you with every fiber of my soul, but right now looking at your face makes me wanna throw you across town and beat the shit out of you. I’ll be back tomorrow maybe” You mumble the last part, not really sure how long you wanna be away from your hot headed boyfriend.

“you can’t just fucking leave y/n, how do you expect to be number one of you can’t even stay and win a fight against your boyfriend.” Katsuki let’s out a dry laugh, causing you to turn away from your front door.

You lunge at Katsuki, ready to punch him until he understands you’re the number one hero. You two roll around fighting and spewing things typically reserved for villains. Bakugou pins you down on the floor, his knee on your chest and his hands holding both your wrists beside your head. You close your eyes and focus all your energy into your chest, a faint ball of white light glows from your heart. Ktsuki looks at it with realization before the energy is expelled from you and your boyfriend is sent flying across the living room.

“You did not just use Power Surge on me.” He growls. wiping the sweat from his brow.

“I did, and i’m fucking leaving and your not gonna say shit or so help me god katsuki, i will shoot a beam of light so bright and hot that you wake up blind, burnt and fucking single.” You use your wings to send you flying straight to your front door, you look back at your confused boyfriend once more before taking to the sky.

Bakugou began the cleaning process, shocked and confused. Why didn’t you understand he wants to be happy for you, he truly does, but his pride won’t let him get away with not winning. He decided to let you fly off to calm down for the night, opting to call and talk to Kirishima. The two friends ended up talking for a bit longer than expected, bakugou trying to get kiri on his side, not his girlfriends. It didn’t work however, Kirishima understood that bakugou would let his emotions cloud his mind, even when it came to you. By the end of the conversation, bakugou was almost has heated as he was while fighting you. He concluded the best option was to head to his agency and train for the night.

He arrived and decided to do some things around the office before heading to the training and workout wing of his large building. While going thru last minute files, there’s a knock on his door.

“Ground Zero, i wasn’t expecting you to be here so late.” A stranger smiles in Bakugou face as he opens his office door, his secretary smiling sheepishly.

“Who the hell are you?” He cocks his head and tries to figure it out before he’s told, one of those weird habits he’s picked up being a hero.

“My apologies. I’m Niko Takeyama, I work for the Hero Commission. How would you like to be the number one hero by this time next month.”

#bnha imagines #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bakugou smut #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo imagine #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader

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jitterbugjive · 4 years ago

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Something I wish more people would understand is how unhealthy and misguided I was in my early 20s. I came out of a life of mental and sexual abuse, for a bit I had a much older boyfriend than me that I didn’t realize until fairly recently was grooming me since I was 14. I was a hyper sexual teenager due to the exposure I had in childhood and I sought people out constantly to ERP with, even adults, without really thinking anything was wrong with that. I had an old friend who started running away from home to look for random adult men to sleep with so my understanding and feelings towards that kind of situation got all twisted and confused and I didn’t know how to help my friend. I had another friend who was pulled in to a 3 way by another minor and an adult, and the other minor was also the sort who actively looked for adult men who would be sick enough to sleep with her. And my best friend had a sister who was also exhibiting this behavior despite my friends’ many protests, because their mom didn’t give a single fuck about anything. I had an older babysitter, by older I mean in his 60s, who would bring up conversations about sex with me and show me porn on TV from when I was 10-13. I was dealing with unchecked PTSD which made me overly reactive, prone to fits of anger and anxiety.

My point is, back then I didn’t have any kind of professional help or anywhere I could go for answers on things I didn’t understand or had a limited understanding of. When I ask the question ‘what do you do if a kid is seeking out adult sexual attention’ it’s not because I’m trying to blame kids for this, it’s because it scares me when kids are unknowingly, maybe even knowingly, exposing themselves to danger for whatever screwed up reason they may have. And no one wants to talk about that kind of situation, so I couldn’t find any answers. I couldn’t find an appropriate way to process my feelings on the matter, my understanding of it, the way I viewed it, I couldn’t find what the correct way to feel or deal with it was. Again, because no one wants to talk about it. With my naivety and personal experience, I at first held resentment towards kids like that, because I remember being put in danger because of them or they put my friends in danger, and those kids seemed very sure of their choices even when they were perfectly aware it was wrong. One of them I knew, even as an adult, didn’t ever think anything was wrong with what they did, they didn’t come with that regret you hear most people talking about. I regret the way I’ve reacted to these situations and I regret the way I phrased things when I was trying to come to terms with this issue that I’d been honestly traumatized by.

Another thing I didn’t understand in my early 20s was appropriate boundaries, because I wasn’t given appropriate boundaries as a kid I only knew one big basic thing: Don’t do anything sexually explicit with minors.

And when it came to RP, I thought that meant PG13 content was okay. I thought if there was a fade to black, or a time skip, or an implication, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. Now, there are literally only 2 instances I can think of where there was any sort of implication of sexual acts between characters with a minor, I still made sure nothing explicit was shown or explored and I was of the impression that I was just letting the other person have fun because that’s what they were in to. And that was a mistake. Not as big of a mistake as it could have been, mind you, but I’d never cross that line. I thought I had a good line drawn in the sand but I didn’t really understand where it was supposed to be. Because if we’re gonna be honest here, looking back I know now even romantic fluff RP between an adult and a minor isn’t okay, even if it’s through characters and not as ourselves.

I know now how much of an emotional impact RP can have on a person, considering most of my romantic relationships started with RP. When you have a character you deeply connect to interacting with someone else’s character, it’s really easy to start mistaking your character’s feelings for your own. You could believe because your characters get along so well that maybe the two of you can get along romantically too. I’m not saying that RP shouldn’t lead to romance, but that it can easily blind a person from how their RP partner really is. So it’s dangerous to RP with kids like this. I should know, my abusive ex that groomed me until I turned 18 in order to date me certainly had me convinced we were meant for each other just because our characters clicked and my character happened to be a representation of myself.

Something I’m really ashamed to admit as well is a serious misjudgement on my part, where for some reason I assumed bodily fluids weren��t NSFW. Probably because I’ve seen people get away with censoring out naughty bits but leaving the spunk in an image, or just drawing the character with spunk on them or something. Point is, people were getting away with it not being flagged as porn, and my dumb brain was like ‘okay so it’s not that bad’. I need to make something clear here, I don’t entirely remember what happened or why it happened, but it’s true that Bedeviled Derpy had a post that showed spunk in 2 of the images and it was drawn from some sketches of mine by a teenager. I don’t believe I would have requested such a thing, I certainly didn’t script it to say ‘draw spunk here’, in fact the sketches don’t show any indication of a mess anywhere. I just remember being given the finished images with the spunk being added, and I was dumb enough to think “oh yeah this is totally okay for a SFW blog” and my brain didn’t even register like ‘hello yes a child drew this maybe ask them to remove the spunk also spunk isn’t sfw or child friendly in any way shape or form’

Some people, maybe only a handful, or more, I don’t know, but some people have this assumption that my mindset in all of this was like “Hahaha I’m taking advantage of a minor” and that’s just... not it?

I’m a colossal dumbass, I admit that, and I was really irresponsible, but it was NOT because I had any intentions on preying on a child. I just don’t do that.

The things I said and did, I did out of ignorance, and most of the bad stuff people talk about me saying was from 5+ years ago, before I got any help, before I had anyone to walk me through these incredibly complex emotions and opinions that were ingrained in my head since childhood.

I just wish that people could see I had no malice or ill intent, I wish people could realize they’re way overthinking my actions and taking things a lot more personally than they were ever meant to be. Maybe if they could see this for what it is rather than assuming I’m a villain who purposefully did everything wrong, they could learn to move on in a healthy way.

I understand I did a lot of harm and there’s no undoing that.

But I do NOT deserve to be accused of pedophilia. Pedophilia has literally ruined my life and my perception of the world. I’m a victim too, and just because I became an adult doesn’t mean I suddenly know right from wrong. That’s not how becoming an adult works. You’re allowed to make mistakes as an adult, being an adult doesn’t mean you won’t make mistakes any more. Yes it’s easier to say to someone ‘you were just a kid, it was a mistake, you didn’t know any better’, but adults have a hard time knowing ‘any better’ too. We’re always growing and learning and I’d like to think people are smart enough to see that I have grown in to a better person.

I hope people can find it in their hearts to forgive me, but I fear some people are too far gone down the rabbit hole of being convinced that everything was on purpose and from malice, that I’m some evil mastermind who thrives on manipulation and taking advantage of kids. I’ve only ever associated with 2 minors since becoming an adult and I have no intention of associating with any more that aren’t directly connected to my family or my friends.

Anyone who actually knows me would know I have a 0 tolerance for IRL pedophilia, when I found out a member of one of my groups was showing nudes to minors he was immediately kicked out and I kept tabs on the situation to make sure he’d be caught by police. When a member in my server was exposed for ERP and orbiting with a minor, I kicked him out too.

I worry about kids to a point that it’s part of my PTSD, I have anxiety attacks just worrying about how a kid might be getting harmed, the last thing I want to do is bring harm to them.

And I did cause harm, I didn’t know that was what I was doing, but I did, because I wasn’t mature enough to understand how to interact with kids as an adult. And again, I’m just incredibly sorry things had to even come to this. I’m not lying when I say I think about this every single day, and sometimes spiral in to really bad anxiety because of it. It affects me heavily.

I want to move on.

And I want the people affected to move on too.

Because dwelling on this isn’t going to do anyone any good.

#apology #important

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pangtasias-atelier · 4 years ago

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Dragalia Digest

Well, I come after several months with a story for a game that I’m sure none of y’all play lmao but I am not immune to stoic green dragon man that got me desperately playing Dragalia for a few weeks lol

This was originally meant to be a short story but it just kinda got longer and longer so here’s a 4.8k story about a really, really, really big Midgardsormr. Though the fat content isn’t like the entire story cause I just do that for some damn reason lol

WARNING: This story is a fat kink story. So like, if some rando finds this and you still click on this, that’s on you~

“Uhh, were we expecting any visitors?” Careful to shield his eyes from the blazing gaze of the sun, Ranzal peers up at the sky. Looming over his much thinner and shorter companion, the built mercenary stands besides Luca.

“None whatsoever,” The blue haired bunny archer stares at the small shadowy speck in the distance. His arms remain crossed as his line of vision follows his partner’s. “And it’s just the two of us guarding today,” A grin spawns across the width of his face from his thoughts. He reaches for his quiver and delft slots an arrow into his bow. “So, we’ll shoot now, ask questions later!” His shit eating grin plastered onto his face, his tongue sticks out a fraction of an inch.

“We ain’t doing that,” Ranzal swings his open palm down onto Luca’s head.

Luca’s bow and arrow immediately plop onto the floor as he nurses his aching head. “That hurt!” Gritting his teeth, his eyes return to the ever-encroaching shadow in the sky. He continues to grumble under his breath about his pain all the while he watches.

Ranzal ignores all of Luca’s comments, his mind more concerned with the vaguely familiar approaching figure. The encroaching figure’s speed far faster than either could ever hope to achieve running, it only takes a mere extra few seconds for Ranzal’s brain to process the figure. “You almost shot at one of the Greatwyrms, you idiot!” The crisis averted regardless, Ranzal still picks a fight with Luca for his recklessness.

“You’re the idiot who doesn’t know his own strength! It would’ve all worked out regardless!” The two facing each other, Luca on his tip toes in a poor attempt of sizing himself up to somewhat compare to Ranzal, a feat that Luca has no hopes in achieving, they completely fail to ignore the complete disappearance of the day’s calm weather. Light breezes of winds pick up, the blades of grass and other fauna swaying in the sun’s light. Their shouting match more important, their focus only returns to their original issue upon the two almost losing their footing from a particularly strong torrent of wind.

Their eyes widen as the wind Greatwyrm Midgardsormr flies above them by only a few feet; their eyes only widen further as a figure jumps off said Greatwyrm.

“Looks like I finally reached my favorite descendant’s humble abode,” Alberius outstretches his arms with a cheery grin. His eyes roam across the expansive open field only to find nothing but interspaced buildings.

“Euden ain’t here right now,” Ranzal decides to clear up Alberius apparent confusion.

“They all left for some training along with all the dragons, so it’s just good ol’ Ranzal and me here guarding the place,” Luca’s chest puffs out in pride.

“A fine duo for guards indeed. Then I will gladly help defend the castle grounds. It is the least I can do during such an impromptu visit,” The sun seemingly shines directly behind Alberius, his entire radiant figure gleaming in the light as his hair flutters in the wind behind him. However, he suddenly clears his throat. “Though my partner here is in need of-” The ground trembles upon Midgardsormr’s descent. Though a crash landing is more apt, a sizable indent in the ground where he let himself fall. “Mids just needs some rest, so a room would be much appreciated,” His voice picks up in speed and pitch. Midgardsormr glares at Alberius for using his nickname.

“The place where dragons usually hang out is all empty so I can show Mids over there while Ranzal shows you to a room in the castle,” Midgardsormr’s glare towards Alberius intensifies.

“No need,” Alberius raises an open palm in the air. A small chuckle escapes him with a small grin. “If I wish to foster better relationships between dragons and humans, then what better way to show those ideals than cohabitation? I shall rest and watch over Mids,”

“If you could point us to a building that would be much appreciated,” A light strain mars Midgardsormr’s voice yet he keeps a straight face throughout his fatigue.

“It’s that group of buildings over there,” Ranzal points behind himself, large similar looking buildings not too far off in the distance.

“Thanks,” With a quick wave of goodbye, Alberius takes a quick pace ahead of the trotting Midgardsormr, the Greatwyrm keeping a speedy pace as well.

“They sure are in a hurry,” Luca huffs to himself. His brows furrow.

“They’re probably just tired from all the flying, that’s all,” Ranzal smacks Luca in the lower back. “Now, back to patrolling,”

Luca dutifully marches beside Ranzal. The duo once again all alone with their unexpected visitors resting, the two joke back and forth amongst each other, Luca regaling about possible new tricks to use on their teammates upon their return. Their patrolling turns out to be more formality than anything. Soon, the sun begins its slow descent and the two call it quits. Upon their return to their rooms, the two pause in their tracks as a quick clang rings out.

"Questions first, shooting later," Ranzal stresses with a whisper, his eyes staring daggers at Luca. Luca simply sticks his tongue out. The svelte archer nimbly makes his way towards where the noise came from as Ranzal follows behind him.

Luca immediately stops upon turning another corner. He makes no noise when Ranzal bumps into him from behind from the unexpected stop. Listening in on their intruder, Luca's ears twitch. A clear lack of concern from their intruder is evident from the turned-on lights and humming, Luca remains still. The sound of rolling wheels adding to the noise, the intruder finally steps out.

Alberius pushes out a cart chock-full of varying plates of food. With a quick flick, he turns off the lights before bustling on down the hall with a pep in his step.

"Must have company over or something," Ranzal scratches the side of his head.

"Regardless, we're following him," Luca announces, his shoulders tense.

"Luca," Ranzal outstretches his hand, the limb hanging in the air above Luca's shoulder, Ranzal not used to hearing the archer sound so serious.

"I was saving that carrot cake for a rainy day," Luca cries out, wrapping his arms around Ranzal's waist as he buries his head in Ranzal's chest. "It's not fair,"

"Dumbass," Luca clinging to him for his dear life, Ranzal simply carries Luca by his ass. Following Alberius from a distance, he follows him all the way back to the buildings the dragons sometimes reside in.

Alberius none the wiser, he even leaves the door open.

"Quit your moping. It's not that serious," Ranzal pries Luca off of him and puts him back on the ground. "They were tired when they got here, so they were probably also low on supplies,"

"But so much food? Including my carrot cake," Luca dejectedly stares at the floor.

"Well, Midgardsormr is a dragon so he probably needs to eat a lot. I'll go and buy you a carrot cake at the market another day, my treat,"

"Deal!" Luca immediately cheered up figure perks up. "I've never seen a dragon eat before, so I'm not passing up this chance," Luca drags a willing Ranzal behind him. Though the two immediately stop at the scene that awaits them.

Midgardormr’s true form no longer in sight, he currently takes advantage of his human form. The change between forms is of no shock to Ranzal or Luca, Midgardsormr having elected to use his human appearance often, his new figure is the kicker.

Dwarfing even the size of his towering, built draconic form, Midgardsormr’s human form is, for a lack of better words, fat. The rooms constructed with dragons’ large frames in mind, Midgardsormr’s lard happily occupies every available inch. So many engorged, heavy rolls make up the entirety of his bloated body. A decent sense of proportions is somehow maintained despite Midgardsormr’s elephantine figure. His stomach large enough to smother a trio of beds pushed together, the pale oceanic blubber oozes on down onto the floor. An overwhelmingly large amount of fat swaddling his body, the lower roll making up a portion of his stomach is smothered by the upper tube of fat right above it and even smothers and obscures his navel. The middle roll of fat is wider to the point that one would find it easier to grab someone by the waist than to grab its love handle. The roll of fat right above it not as massively wide, it instead rests comfortably atop the roll below it. Still rather wide as well, the extreme width of said roll’s love handle is comparable to that of Ranzal’s bicep. His chest impacted from his new size just like his crushing gut, two bulbous sagging mounds of fat reside where a chest once was. Each breast alone is larger than a person’s head. Each one larger than even Midgardsormr’s bloated face. Both tits splay out to the side, the uppermost roll of his stomach making a fine bed for his pillowy breasts as they noticeably sink into his billowing fat. Connected to his great doughy chest is his numerous amounts of neck folds and extra chins, each smooshed up against one another and the lowest one even spilling onto the upper crests of his breasts. Connected to that is his face, most of the space taken up by his blubbery over bloated cheeks sagging with fat. His face hard to make out in the vastness of his corpulence, the main indicator of his face lies with his vibrant long mop of rich green hair that cascades down in between the crevices and folds of fat lining his back. His hair flowing onto his tail, his tail is completely invisible from the front with so much fat blocking the view. Two horns stick out on top of his head, though those are no longer as prominent as they once were with fat pooling around it in all directions. Midgardsormr’s arms bulge out on both sides of his face, the two pillar-like appendages forced at an angle from the bunched-up fat from the sides of his stomach. His arms are completely useless with both being unable to budge a fraction of an inch. The upper portions of his arms surpass the width of a tire. His elbow basically absorbed in his own arm fat, his forearm is far less as wide as his arm yet is still equally swaddled in so much fat so as to be incapable of movement. His wrist follows suit, the doughy circular mass of fat affixed to his forearm while also nearly swallowing his fingers. So bloated, the sausagey fingers are basically the only portion of his body that Midgardsormr can move, albeit for short periods of time. The entirety of his arms billowing in lard, his shoulders are practically nonexistent from being buried under so much flab. His back is covered in a litany of rolls just like the rest of his body; the flabby landscape is akin to a rolling field with the numerous mountains and valleys for folds of fat. Each fold cascading and jutting out alike, none of them compare to his couch sized ass cheeks. The shapeless lard stuffed ass pools out onto the floor behind him. His tail runs down the middle of his ass, the once large tail absurdly small in comparison to the extreme width of his ass. It rises into the air like the rest of his figure, so much bad placed on top of more fat to give the appearance of rising dough. His ass jutting behind him, his immovable elephantine legs jut out on both sides of his body. His great stomach takes up as much space as needed, his legs splaying out at somewhat of an angle as a result. Bits of what could be described as his inner thighs seep underneath his stomach however, most of his legs press against the doughy sides of his gut, rolls on his thighs and rolls on his stomach intersecting to create new folds of fat that seemingly mesh together. The entire length of his barrel shaped legs presses against his stomach with his fat having nowhere else to go. His thighs caked in vast amounts of fat, the width of one thigh alone surpasses that of even the largest of doorways. His shins sink into the mass of fat that is his thighs. His feet are in the same predicament, most of them swallowed by the quicksand of fat. Every single inch of Midgardsormr packed with copious, overly exaggerated piles of fat, Midgardsormr’s mammontine body is a caricature of a caricature.

“I brought you some food Mids,” Alberius is ignorant of his two guests. Unable to wheel an entire cart up the rolling hills of fat comprising Midgardsormr’s body, he instead carries the serving platters in his hands. He carefully navigates the oceanic pile of blubber that is Midgardsormr’s body, obviously used to doing so numerous times. Trekking upwards, he perches himself atop Midgardsormr’s breast, nestling his back directly in between the folds of fat where his arm and necks and cheek meet. Alberius rests the extra serving platter on Midgardsormr’s free breast. “This’ll help you get back your energy,” Alberius pats his round chipmunk cheeks with a smile. Alberius pauses as he notices his silence and the bright red blush adorning his face. “What’s wrong? You’re usually begging for-”

“We-” Midgardsormr wheezes out in response. “have guests, “He averts his gaze away from the dumbstruck Luca and Ranzal.

Alberius whips his head around. His eyes go wide. “I’ll be right back,” Patting Midgardsormr’s arm, he climbs down. Luca and Ranzal still outside, Alberius first closes the door as he steps outside. Or at least tries to, Midgardormr’s blubbery stomach wedged in the middle of the doorway. “Hello,” Alberius starts off rather meekly, the smile on his face only half formed. “I’m sure this isn’t something you expected to see,” He gives a weak chuckle before letting out a sigh. “Look, please keep this to yourselves. Mids is rather embarrassed about the whole thing,”

“How soft is he?” Piping up, Luca completely ignores Alberius as he stares behind him.

“Huh? Well, he’s pretty soft, I guess?” Alberius fumbles his words.

“I doubt he’s more than just ‘pretty soft’,” Luca walks past Alberius, his eyes purely focused on the soft, fleshy pile of lard in front of him. His grubby little hands press down into Midgardsormr’s stomach, his entire wrist and more sinking into it. “This is way better than soft! Hey Ranzal, you gotta try this!”

“What do you think you’re doing!” Voice rising in intensity, Midgardsormr panics as Luca lets himself fall into his stomach. “Stop your ridiculousness,” Midgardsormr attempts to squirm, however he only succeeds in wobbling the entirety of his fat around, rolls of lard sloshing into one another.

“He’s even got a vibrate function,” Luca teases with a content sigh.

Ranzal still with Alberius, he merely sighs. “So, curse got him or something?” He gestures towards Midgardsormr.

“Not exactly,” Alberius hesitates, focusing on using all his brainpower for what to respond with. “He, just kinda really enjoys human food,” Alberius shrugs, awkwardly laughing.

“Oh,” Ranzal stares at Midgardsormr who is struggling against an eager Luca.

“Yeahhhhh,”

“So, you’ve been feeding him so much he got this big?” Ranzal raises a brow.

“W-well we both enjoyed it so it just kinda happened! Only his human form is affected from all his eating so we kinda reasoned it’d be fine, and it is. He looks rather dashing like this if I do say so myself,” Beginning to regain his gushing nature over Midgardsormr, Alberius gives a confident grin. His teeth gleaming, his eyes are closed as he speaks next. “So, I’d be grateful if you don’t say a word to anyone about this,” A response not given, Alberius opens his eyes. The spot in front of him devoid of another person, Alberius turns around.

“You sure do like to eat huh? Well, lucky for you, I’ve got plenty of recommendations for good stuff,” Ranzal in front of Midgardsormr’s oozing stomach, he grabs a serving platter full of meat. “Looks like you probably know way more about food than me at this point,”

“Great idea, Ranzal!” Carefully navigating himself off Midgardsormr’s overly plush and soft, cushiony stomach, Luca joins Ranzal in fetching him food. He focuses more on grabbing sweets and treats rather than the hearty filling of meat like Ranzal.

Alberius stands with his mouth slightly agape. Not expecting such a rather positive reaction from the two, his confused eyes gaze up towards Midgardsormr. His eyes gaze back down at Alberius and instead of confusion plastered all over his face, embarrassment mars the wide, doughy landscape of his cheeks.

“What do you two think you’re doing?” A bit of panic seeps into his voice as he stares wide eyed at the two overeager men. Encumbered by the mountainous pile of flab making up his body, his only hope for assistance is Alberius, the man too surprised to help him out.

“Giving you a helping hand,” Ranzal plops himself down where Alberius once was. Holding his tray with a shocking amount of delicacy, the overflowing tray manages to avoid a single spill as its holder makes itself comfortable in between the crevice of where Midgardsormr’s chins, arms and chest meet.

“Yeah! Hafta make sure you’re nice and full; you’re our guest afterall,” With an abundance of cheer and pep in his voice, Luca gladly takes a seat on the other side of Midgardsormr akin to Ranzal’s position. “Your partner sure brought you a ton of food. It must take him forever to feed it all to you. We're just speeding up the process,”

“I do not mind the time it takes for Mids’ appetite to be sated. His stomach rivals the depths of the hungry sea and I have placed it upon myself to aid him,” Alberius gloats to himself, proud of his nonsensical statement. “Though on the other hand...” Alberius turns his attention even further away from Midgardsormr’s predicament as he finds himself increasingly lost in his own thoughts.

“Alberius!” Midgardsormr shouts, a slight huff to his voice from the mere effort. “Do so-” The rest of his sentence becomes muffled nonsense as Luca shoves a forkful of his carrot cake into his mouth.

“See, he’s fine with it. Just relax already, big guy,” The serving tray resting on his lap, uca pats Midgardsormr’s tube of fat for an arm.

A generous portion of cake placed into his mouth, zero words are needed to coax the embarrassed, reluctant dragon. His hunger always creeping up on the back of his mind, he obediently chews on the mildly sweet and moist dessert. Despite the heaping helping of cake, it only takes him a few moments for it to all go down his greedy gullet. A slight chill escapes his voice as he speaks next, a clear, obvious contentment to his bashful face. “I am not-” His sentence once again ends up rendered pointless with another serving of food offered right to his mouth, this time by Ranzal.

“If ya got time to complain, then ya got time to eat,” Ranzal grins and watches Midgardsormr chew through the half portion of steak, his bulbous cheeks wobbling to and fro from the simple act of eating. Ranzal leans back into the comfort of Midgardsormr’s arms and cheeks, his bulk sinking into a fair amount of his plush body.

“I,,,,” Quickly finishing the second offering, Midgardsormr struggles to get a coherent thought out, his stomach doing most of the thinking for him. His half-lidded eyes switch between Ranzal and Luca. Even that movement is groggy and sluggish, as if any sort of movement is foreign to him. “I’m hungry,” Huffing out the words, the last portions of his embarrassment scream at him, yet his stomach thanks him as more food finds its way into his cavernous mouth.

“Happy to help, big guy,”

“All you had to do was say something,”

Midgardsormr finds himself unable to even come up with a retort to either of them, his mind simply focusing on the delectable dishes offered to him as he gobbles them all down. A generous portion of food enters his mouth only for another to be promptly stuffed inside the instant he finishes the former. Ranzal and Luca offering the barest of times in between each offering, Midgardsormr finds zero complaint in such a speedy stuffing. His oceanic gut churns as it craves more and more food, the numerous servings of food already stuffed inside him merely a start meant to whet his appetite. Human food having such an effect on him since his very first taste of the cuisine, he simply found himself unable to get enough of the food. Alberius far too eager to feed him, Midgardsormr’s appetite directly grew alongside his waistline. With two people eager to stuff him full of such delicious food, his stomach yearns for more. As when Luca finds his tray devoid of any food, Midgardsormr mentally whines at the minimal break in pace, Ranzal’s speedy stuffing still not enough. Or when Ranzal goes to fetch him more food as well upon Luca’s return, the two planning their switches to keep a steady pace of food going into his mouth at all times. And he eats it all willingly. Far too willingly, his body basically begging for every morsel they toss his way. Until the food ends up all gone, an entire cart’s worth of food able to serve as a veritable feast stuffed inside the expanse of his stomach. A bit of a huff escapes past his lips, his flushed rounded cheeks huffing and puffing for air.

Alberius remains completely ignorant to the current ongoing events. The rather loud huffs coming from Mids and the increasingly loud churning in his stomach falls on deaf ears. He merely paces around a bit as he continues to mutter to himself. “It does take me a rather long time to feed him,” He paces around a bit. “And that’s just for one feeding,” Alberius’ concentration only breaks upon hearing Midgardsormr’s needy voice.

“Alberius,” Mids whines. He breathes heavily, the entire mass of food sitting comfortably in his stomach. A tiny spackle of food smears his lips and cheeks.

“Yes,,,” Alberius stares wide eyed at Mids. He instinctively steps forward a few paces before he ends up right in front of Mids’ stomach and places a gentle hand on the upper lip of one of his many rolls.

“I’m hungry,” The statement leaves his lips as plainly as he thought of it, his aching stomach craving and wanting for me.

“No problem! I’ll serve you,,,,” Turning to the cart, he freezes mid step. His mind races as he comprehends that the entirety of the cart has been devoured.

“Don’t tell me you thought that was enough to fill him up,” Luca chides as he cheerfully lies on top of Midgardsormr.

“He’s been practically begging all this time. Seems like he’s been holding back quite some time,”

Hearing the implication, Midgardsormr goes to speak only for him to find no words, his face flushing a bright vibrant red.

“Mids,,,” Alberius elects to speak instead. His own face matches the intensity of Mids’ blush. “I’ll bring you all the food I can!” Storming off in a rush, a fervent intensity in his step.

The overall rather silent atmosphere of the night ends up disturbed a few minutes later as Alberius’ soft grunts sound out. His figure approaching, he comes with two carts this time alongside a bundle full of an assortment of bread. “This was,” Alberius takes a pause to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he takes in several gulps of air. “This was everything I could find,” A radiant smile illuminates his face before he goes to place as much food as he can on a serving tray. Upon grabbing as much as possible, he climbs up the roll ridden hill that is Midgardsormr’s body. He gently moves aside Midgardsormr’s mane of green hair before sitting on the plush rolls of back fat. Able to get a better view of Mids’ face, he peers down at him with a gentle smile. He brings a bread roll to his mouth, Mids’ devouring it whole. “You should’ve told me you haven’t been feeling full as of late. You always brushed me off when I asked about you being so tired often,”

“I’ve been eating way too much lately,” Mids takes another bread roll. “You’ve been spending so much on food just for me,”

“That’s it?” A small snicker escapes past Alberius. “Seriously?” His snickering erupts into laughter. “Mids, it’s more likely that you’ll eat everything before I run out of money,”

“You don’t have to be so blunt,” Mids murmurs.

“I’m sorry but it’s true. And if you’re worried about me spending too much, just know that your happiness is worth more than anything else,” Bubbling laughter still escaping him, Alberius reaches for more food with a renewed vigor. “Now, to make sure you actually end up full tonight,”

His fear turning out to be completely mundane, Mids holds back his remark at Alberius’ placating yet loving remarks. Both from embarrassment and from having his mouth being stuffed with food. The two’s conversation over, Ranzal and Luca get off Midgardsormr to grab some more food as well. Not having been used to two people feeding him yet adjusting to that quite well, he finds no issue in adjusting to three people impatient to stuff him. His cheeks caked in fat, the jutting mounds of flab hide the ridiculous amounts of food stuffed inside his hungry maw at all times. Barely able to keep up with the supply of food, his mouth sluggishly gives each dish a few chews before swallowing it to make room for the next batch of food coming his way. So much food packed inside, the individual flavors and textures jumble together. Yet his addiction to human food is all the same, Midgardsormr greedily devouring it all while still wanting for more. His stomach is so vastly bloated that even as he slowly begins to feel his aching hunger subside, the hill of fat appears no different than before, zero tautness in the blubbery expanse of his gut. However, before he can fully claim himself as full, Alberius’ loving face peers down at his.

“Sorry to say, but we’re fully out of food,” Both hands gripping the tip of Mids’ horns, Alberius leans down for a quick peck, his face neatly slotting itself between all of Mids’ fat. “Did you end up full at least?” Both Ranzal and Luca gone, the two having left after confirming there was no more food in the entire castle, Alberius goes to make himself comfortable. He lies down in between the jutting crevice of Mids’ chest where each moob juts out to the side. He rests his head right on Mids’ multiple folds where his chins and necks mold together.

“Almost,” Mids admits, a slight bit of sadness sounding in his voice.

“Wait, seriously!?” Alberius’ face turns a violent tinge of red. “That’s kinda hot,” He admits as his hands rub at as much of Mids’ expanse as they can reach. “Then next time I’ll make sure to get you enough food to where you’re begging me to stop feeding you,” A small yawn makes it past Alberius’ lips. The infectious yawn worms its way into Mids’ mouth before he lets one out too; the entire expanse of his body jostles and jiggles from the action, Alberius taken along for the ride as the human bed shakes beneath him.

“You better,” Mids merely replies, the overtaxing churning of his gut making him rather drowsy.

“Once we make it to Hinomoto I will,” Alberius lazily pats whatever fold of fat his hand rests on. “If we leave first thing in the morning, we should make it in a few days,”

“Deal,” Letting out one final prolonged yawn, Mids begins to snooze off, his entire body rising and falling with each breath he takes.

Come morning, the two guards find zero trace of their visitors besides a completely barren kitchen and a hefty bag of gold.

“So, what’re we gonna say happened?” Luca scratches the side of his head as he stares at the vacant room where Alberius and Midgardsormr once were.

“We go out for drinks, then we replenish the pantry,” Ranzal happily holds up the bag of gold in his hand. “Then we split the rest that’s left,”

“Deal!” The two head off on their merry way to enjoy their day, yesterday knight a pleasant experience decided to be kept as their little secret.

#dragalia fats #i dont know what to tag this lmao #my writing #fat!Midgardsormr #ssbhm #maleweightgain #fatfiction #weightgainstory #fatkink

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beautifulterriblequeen · 4 years ago

Text

Moonberry Wishes (Ruthari Week 2021 #2)

Pairing: Ruthari

Rating: T

Tags: post-coin Runaan, Runaan pulls an Eljaal, belated reunion, angry Ethari, all the feels, angst, fluff, i missed you, toppy Ethari, Runaan is never gonna be ready to hear about Rayllum

Prompt: Leaving/Returning

Moonberry Wishes

The clang of sword on shield snapped Runaan out of his morning meditation. His eyes opened on the now-familiar view of the rocky slopes of eastern Duren, their golden stone bleached with early morning sunlight. Squinting against the light, Runaan tracked the sound of battle, snatched up his bowblade, and hurled himself off the high stone ledge where he’d made secure camp the night before. The descent to the narrow pass a few hundred meters below wasn’t difficult for one with his skills, and he leaped easily from boulder to boulder as he descended past the timber line toward the old trade road.

The faint flicker of a small cooking fire at the edge of the road caught his eye as he targeted a cluster of figures at the far edge of the road. Someone had camped there in the night, and he hadn’t heard a thing! The assassin tossed his confusion aside and leaped down, skidding dramatically through a cloud of fine pale dust shot through with angled sunbeams, expecting the attackers to turn and run, or possibly turn and stare. To acknowledge his arrival, at the very least--he was a Moonshadow elf, and making himself known on purpose was a rare treat.

But no one did. Not even the traveler he’d rushed in to rescue. The man stood still, his back to Runaan, the hood of his cloak pulled up.

Runaan blinked mid-skid and reassessed, fingers tense on his bowstring.

Half a dozen bandits had clearly attempted to besiege this man. Yet three of them lay sprawled in the dust already, and one hung by his belt from a broken tree limb three meters off the ground. As Runaan skidded in, another bandit got shoved backward through the air and plopped into a muddy patch in the woods with a squelch.

Runaan sought the last bandit as he battled his surprise. He seemed to have found the one human who could hold his own as well as an assassin against half a dozen attackers. He finally spotted the greasy man when his head rose up over the traveler’s hood, caught in the would-be victim’s grip as he was bodily lifted into Runaan’s line of sight by the front of his shirt. The traveler’s other arm dropped to his side, revealing a small round silvery shield strapped to his forearm.

Runaan reassessed again, casting his gaze around the small campsite, seeking clues as to who this strange paradox of a person was.

The traveler had camped in the most foolish location, right where any passing rogue could find him. Yet he’d somehow managed to set up his camp silently in the night. He carried no sword, but he’d bested half a dozen desperate humans with a small shield. His campfire was expertly laid, but the aroma that rose from it was one of stewing fruits.

Runaan’s eyes narrowed. He suddenly doubted that this stranger had ever needed his help at all.

“I have a question for you,” the traveler huffed to his captive, catching his breath from their quick scuffle. “And if you answer me truthfully, you can be on your way.” His voice was soft velvet over cold steel, and its gentle brogue stabbed Runaan in the gut with an icicle made of all the frozen feelings he’d tried to ignore for nearly a year.

The world telescoped around him, streaking past his vision with dizzying speed. His freedom from the coin, his shame and uncertainty over failing half his mission, the strange sense of mourning he felt over feeling his blood oath breaking with his supposed death, his decision to wander in search of new purpose instead of returning home and learning he’d been ghosted. His honor had always been vital to his identity, and he hadn’t been ready to face the risk of having it stripped away despite his best and most dutiful intentions. Three seasons had passed since he’d turned his boots toward the west, and not one step had landed on Xadian soil.

But apparently Xadia had grown tired of waiting for him. This stranger was no human. This stranger didn’t sound like a stranger, either.

Runaan’s breath burst from his mouth in a single disbelieving gasp. “Ethari?”

The traveler dropped his bandit like a discarded cloak and spun to face Runaan. His silvery shield thudded to the dirt unheeded. Warm brown eyes blazed out at the errant assassin from beneath a dark blue hood edged with locks of long black hair, and his dark skin was unmarked by blue Moonshadow paint. He also sported five fingers on each hand.

Runaan let out a soft grunt of pain. This man wasn’t his--

The traveler’s mouth fell open in surprise at the sight of the Moonshadow before him. A quick hand flicked back his hood, and a pale shimmering spell rippled across his body.

Runaan’s eyes widened even further.

The Moon spell danced around the traveler’s hidden features, revealing elf horns, cheek markings, shoulder swirls. His black hair became shaggy and white, and his eyes warmed to a soft sunset, just as wide as Runaan’s were.

The elves stared at each other in shock. To the side, the discarded bandit scrambled to his feet and hesitantly edged away, his gaze darting between the safety of the forest and the big elf who had flicked him aside.

“Never mind,” Ethari told him in a faint voice, eyes locked onto Runaan. “I found him.”

The bandit nodded eagerly as if he’d actually been of help. He gathered up his foolhardy compatriots, and together the humans bolted without a backward glance.

Runaan tracked him with a tense stare until he was out of sight before he let himself drink in the sight of his precious craftsman from head to toe. Tension he’d been holding for nearly a year began to ease from his shoulders. “Ethari.” His voice was a tentative prayer.

“Runaan.” Ethari’s voice was faint, too.

The assassin’s eyes dropped to the shield. Its edge was rimmed with all the phases of the Moon. Runaan wondered briefly how many enchantments Ethari had crammed into its swirlies. “You’re fighting?” he murmured.

“I’m on a mission,” Ethari corrected breathlessly. His chest was still heaving, but Runaan suspected it was for a different reason now.

Runaan felt the first hints of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He hadn’t smiled since the Silvergrove, but Ethari always had a way of--

Ethari’s brows lowered sharply. “To find Xadia’s biggest dumbass.”

Runaan’s eyes widened. “What?”

With a growl, Ethari charged at him. Runaan managed to drop his bowblade safely into a nearby fern before Ethari seized him by the front of his shirt and backed him up against a nearby tree trunk. Runaan gripped his husband’s wrists and braced for impact, wincing as his horn tip clattered against the rough bark. His toes slipped on an angled root and dangled in the air as Ethari pinned him easily in place. Runaan’s eyes danced from his husband’s furious eyes to his bulging deltoids to his aggressive stance to his fingers knotting in Runaan’s shirt to the way those two soft locks of hair always fluttered right in the middle of his forehead, and finally managed to focus on his mouth, which had been pouring an angry stream of words past his ears for several seconds.

“--where the fuck have you been? Why didn’t you come home? I thought you were dead! Or lost! Or hurt! Or captured again! I was worried sick! Did you ever think about that? Did you?”

Runaan opened his mouth to stammer a reply.

Ethari’s question was apparently rhetorical. He bulled onward: “I gave Rayla your lotus in a jar of water from the pool, and she said she’d bring you back to me. And she started to promise me, and do you know what I did, Runaan? Do you? I stopped her. I couldn’t take another broken promise from an assassin standing beside my ritual pool. I couldn’t take it. So I sent her off without it, and I started to hope again. And the full Moon came, and went, and I couldn’t sleep a wink, for days and days. I waited! I waited for you, you shadowsaken idiot!”

Runaan couldn’t look away. The full force of Ethari’s rage and sorrow poured into his eyes and slammed against his chest, leaving him breathless. “I…”

Ethari wasn’t nearly done, though. “And then Rayla returned to the Silvergrove, with Lain and Tiadrin and Callum and Ezran and the Queen of the Sunfire Elves and her human girlfriend--”

“Her what?” Runaan blurted.

“--and she had to tell me to my face that you’d run away,” Ethari continued. “Left in the night. Bolted. Scarpered. Fled, like some kind of coward. She had to say those words to me, and she had to watch me crumple to the floor and fall apart, again!” He checked Runaan against the tree a second time. “Again, Runaan!” Another shove. “I fell apart again!” And another. “How many times am I going to let you destroy my heart before I’ve had enough?” Furious tears spilled down Ethari’s cheeks and lost themselves in his markings.

“N-No…” Runaan’s whispered denial shivered into a sudden sob. Ethari’s angry slams barely registered compared to the pain of seeing his tears. His fingers fluttered toward Ethari’s cheeks, aching to wipe away the sorrow he’d caused. “I’m so sor--”

Ethari pulled him away from the tree and slammed him back against it with more force, interrupting Runaan’s gesture. “I’m not finished!” he roared. “Don’t you dare be soft with me before I’ve gotten this off my chest! I’ve been carrying it alone for ten months and I’ll be bloodcursed if I let you stop me from unloading every last word now that I’ve found you, do you hear me?”

Half terrified, half dazzled at the raw power in Ethari’s voice, Runaan could only nod mutely and cling to his husband’s wrists for dear life.

“Good!” Ethari yelled. He panted heavily for a few breaths, staring Runaan in the eye with a baleful glare, before asking in a slightly less aggressive tone, “Alright, now where was I?”

A distant light dawned in Runaan’s heart, and his brows lifted softly. “You were asking me how many times you were going to let me destroy your heart before you’ve had enough,” he supplied gently.

Ethari’s fists tightened in Runaan’s shirt. He slowed his breathing and swallowed, and when he spoke, his voice was merely resentful. “Right. Yes. Thank you.”

Runaan felt one of his own tears escape over the edge of his cheek. His heart was absolutely thrumming with Ethari’s presence. His warmth, his strength, the smell of his breath, the shivering rumble of his voice--Runaan was nearly delirious with so much enchanting proof of his husband’s existence right there in front of him. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, relaxing in Ethari’s grip. When he opened them again, they lingered on Ethari’s hands for a long moment, and he gave his husband’s wrists a long, fervent squeeze. “You’re welcome,” he murmured.

“No, don’t you do that, don’t you be soft and handsome when I’m angry at you,” Ethari protested grumpily. He set Runaan on his feet and checked him lightly against the tree with a quick press of his fingertips.

Runaan let out a soft grunt as his back connected with the bark again. “I keep asking you to tell me how to stop doing that, but you never have.”

Ethari glared balefully at him, and his lip curled once again. But then his bottom lip shivered, and his face crumpled into longing. He cupped Runaan’s head in his hands, bringing their foreheads together with a soft bump and pressing hard. One hand wound into Runaan’s hair, and the other encircled his shoulders, pulling him tightly against Ethari’s chest until their noses brushed tips. “You utter idiot. I missed you,” Ethari breathed, so softly Runaan almost didn’t catch it.

Uncertain but needy, Runaan slipped his hands inside Ethari’s cloak and gripped the back of his broad belt, pulling their bodies flush. He waited, silent, soaking up every heartbeat of this soft, precious, long-awaited contact with his beloved.

“I stayed, for a while.” Ethari’s words rode just above a whisper, and their warmth brushed Runaan’s lips. “For Lain and Tiadrin, and for Rayla. But they knew. They knew. They knew before I did.”

Runaan’s fingers squeezed tighter, clinging, needing to hear the rest but fearing the truth of the pain his absence had caused.

“I didn’t know where to begin, but Rayla helped me. And so did King Ezran, and Prince Callum, and Queen Aanya, and Lujanne, too. I started wandering, following stories of a shadowy hero who always saved people from danger and vanished into the night. No one ever admitted to getting a good look at him, no one remembered his words. They just knew they owed him their lives.”

Runaan huffed in wry amusement. He’d thought he was changing his life entirely, and yet his husband had known him in an instant, merely from stories of his minor exploits. “I can’t ever hide from you, can I?”

“I could recognize you by touch alone,” Ethari breathed, “by smell. I would know you blind, by the way your breaths came and your feet struck the earth. I would know you in death, at the end of the world.”

A wry smile lifted one corner of Runaan’s mouth. “I think we’ve been.”

Ethari cupped Runaan’s cheeks softly and gave him a steady look. “You made me a promise, Runaan, to return my heart to me.”

“I did.”

“But I had to go looking for it myself.”

Runaan’s gaze dropped. “You did.”

Ethari gently lifted his chin with a finger until their eyes met again. “Well? I’m here now.”

Runaan’s brows twitched down. “But… I failed you. I destroyed it, with my carelessness and my pride. You just asked me--”

Ethari pressed his finger against Runaan’s lips. “I asked you how many times. I know. Because it’s happened more than once. I know that, too. Yes, I’m angry with you. But I didn’t hike all over Garlath’s green earth just to tell you to stuff it, you great stupid moonberry.”

“What did you hike all over Garlath’s green earth to tell me, then?” Runaan asked, half afraid of the answer.

“I’m a Master Craftsman, Runaan. You should remember well how many weapons I’ve repaired for you over the years, because it’s been a lot. And I’ve repaired other things for you, too. Your feelings. Your body. Your own heart.”

Runaan went still under Ethari’s touch as a frenetic parade of memories streaked past his mind’s eye. Ethari’s soft words, soft touch, soft kisses, ten thousand times over. Overcome, he pressed his cheek into his husband’s hand and nodded, feeling hot tears slipping past his lashes.

“I’m not a Master Craftsman for nothing. I can repair anything I choose to. Anything at all,” Ethari continued softly. He leaned his forehead against Runaan’s again. “And I choose to repair my own heart when you break it. I choose. To re-pair my heart. With yours.”

Runaan laughed through a sob at his husband’s pun and slid gentle arms around his husband, reassuring himself of his husband’s warm, solid strength.

Ethari sighed in relief at Runaan’s gesture. “I hiked all over Garlath’s green earth to choose you, again. But I need to know, Runaan… What do you choose?”

Runaan sought his husband’s warm sunset eyes and found them brimming with emotion. His own lip trembled at the sight of the pain he’d caused his most beloved. A thousand years of tradition flashed through his mind, its insistence foggy and distant without the pull of his lost oath. Without that urgency pounding through his own blood, there was only one thing he longed to be: with Ethari. With this elf whom he’d hurt, with this elf whom he was very sure he didn’t deserve.

He cupped his husband’s face and bared his heart for whatever fate awaited him. “You,” he said, through an ecstatic sob. “I choose you. Take this heart of yours back, Ethari, if you truly still want it. I did my best to keep it safe, but it deserved so much more care than I could give it… I did you wrong, my heart, so wrong, and I dare not make you any promises, but...” Runaan’s words faded to desperate puffs of breath that ghosted across Ethari’s lips as he leaned closer, drawn by the dizzyingly warm, solid presence of his precious husband. “My heart… I missed you, too...”

Ethari met him halfway, and he tasted as if they’d never been apart. They pulled each other close, full of eager hands and soft whimpers. Runaan’s head spun with the blessed ecstasy of his husband’s kisses, and he clung to Ethari’s sturdy shoulders for balance even as he pressed himself closer against him.

All those months apart suddenly seemed to be happening all at once, endless yet instantaneous. Runaan felt eight kinds of fool for letting his blasted honor get in the way of the love this glorious elf was determined to shower him with. With a soft cry, he buried his face against Ethari’s neck and threw his arms around his shoulders. Ethari wrapped him in a tight hug and rocked him slowly, humming into his hair.

“What do I do now?” Runaan murmured brokenly into Ethari’s purple scarf.

“Come home,” Ethari said promptly. He caressed Runaan’s cheek and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Come home.”

Runaan raised his head, accepting Ethari’s easy words as proof that he hadn’t been ghosted back in the Silvergrove. But in that quiet moment there in his husband’s arms, high in the mountains of Duren, he realized that, for the first time in his life, he didn’t care what the Silvergrove thought of him. Only Ethari’s regard mattered now. “You’re my home. And you’re right in front of me.”

His husband’s eyes lit with eager warmth, and a teasing lilt accompanied his sassy grin. “Then you’d better come here.”

Runaan bit his lip at his husband’s suggestive pun. “My camp’s just up the slope.”

Ethari took Runaan’s face in his hands, backed him gently against the tree again, and kissed him passionately. When he finally let Runaan up for air, he gasped, “What in Garlath’s green earth makes you think I can wait that long?”

Some while later, the husbands ambled along the mountain road, hand in hand, with nowhere in particular to go. Ethari talked as lightly as he could of the things he had seen, and Runaan listened with a full heart and trod with a quiet and grateful step. His hand never left Ethari’s, needing constant reassurance that he was truly there beside him after so long, that he had truly come looking for his long-lost husband. That Runaan was worth searching for, despite all he had done.

If Ethari noticed the occasional tear of humble gratitude slipping over Runaan’s cheeks, he was kind enough not to draw attention to it. Instead, he easily shifted topics to give Runaan time to adjust, telling sweet anecdotes and dramatic retellings and recounting his brushes with powerful figures that Runaan already knew, and some he didn’t. He hopped and twirled and bowed in time with his stories, never once letting go of his wayward husband’s hand, spinning close for the occasional kiss as he always had.

“...and then the Tidebound ambassador arrived and caused quite a splash,” Ethari said as they crested a hill. A warm breeze wafted up from the valley below, ruffling Runaan’s side tails and Ethari’s scarf. “Literally, the elf shot himself out of the well! I could hear the humans yelping all the way back at the blacksmith’s shop. If it hadn’t been for Callum’s quick thinking, that first contact would’ve been quite the wet blanket! But he had everything sorted in minutes. Rayla’s truly chosen well, my heart.”

Runaan’s feet slowed. “Chosen well…?”

Ethari paused, wide-eyed. “Surely they told you when they freed you.”

Runaan’s eyes narrowed. “They mysteriously neglected to mention.”

"But why would she-?" To Runaan’s surprise, Ethari suddenly burst into snorting laughter. “Ah. Clever girl.”

“What?” Runaan asked, suspicious.

“I should’ve known what that wicked twinkle in her eye was about when I told her I’d come searching for you. She’s letting me do the mentioning for her, right now. She knows us too well, love.”

Runaan blinked. Rayla and the human prince? Together? The scheming young couple had left Ethari to search for his husband, and to unwittingly break the news of their courtship to him, knowing that Runaan would take such disturbing news best from the elf he loved most.

That didn’t mean he’d take it well.

“I’ll be right back.” Runaan spun on his heel, stalking directly toward Katolis.

Ethari planted his feet and towed Runaan right back around in front of him, though. He pulled the wayward assassin into his arms and kissed him right on his frown. “Welcome back! I missed you. Again.” His dark brows bent softly.

Runaan’s tense expression broke, and his eyebrows drifted high in dismay at what he’d just tried to do. He clung to Ethari’s muscled arms and pressed his forehead against his husband’s. “Moon help me, I am a great stupid moonberry.”

“Yes, you are. And I love you anyway.” Ethari’s embrace was gentle and warm.

Runaan pressed a soft kiss of apology against his husband’s lips and let it linger, soaking up Ethari’s patience. “Walk with me again, then, and…”

“And?”

Runaan took a deep breath and slid his fingers between his husband’s. “And... tell me of Callum. Apparently, I have quite a bit of catching up to do.”

Ethari grinned and nudged Runaan’s shoulder with his own. “As my moonberry wishes.”

#ruthariweek2021 #ruthari #ruthari fanfic #runaan #ethari #my writing #my fanfic #tdp angst #angst and fluff #soft elf husbands #a whole rainbow of feels in here #they gotta catch up see

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dreamiesdotcom · 4 years ago

Text

butterfly effect│nct dream

Summary: You think of it as something caused by the butterfly effect — the great loves you had to leave, and the one that made you stay.

Pairing/s: 7dream x Reader

Word Count: 12k

Moon's note: since it's my birthday and I promised... it's not the best but I'd like to thank you guys for staying with me and wishing me a happy birthday! I hope you all have an awesome 2021!

You weren't really thinking straight when you met him — instead, your mind was a mess of one thought and sidelines; the little things. Butterfly effect. The knowledge that ten minutes from now the train will board — you'll miss your ride to school, you'll miss school — so you run faster, faster, and there it goes. The butterfly effect — knowing that what little thing you did could've changed someone's life entirely.

If you have made it ten minutes earlier, maybe you'd be sitting in the spot where a child buzzes with excitement, knowing that she'll see her father sometime soon, and in exchange, she will be in another place — maybe she won't meet the girl sitting across who offers her one of her candies. Maybe she won't be riding the train at all — maybe she would have to wait six months again before she can go see her dad.

You sulkily take the path to one of the exits, thinking about catching the bus or something. The skies are dark and you're aware of its plan, also aware that you left your umbrella. Frustrated and too annoyed to even think about school, you crash to the empty bench, bags left to drop to the floor. Tough luck.

The boy chuckles, "Missed the train too?"

"Yeah," you grumble, not even bothering that he's a total stranger. "Was caught in a daydream and got lost on the way. You?"

"Eh, my idiot of a best friend made me wait," he shrugs. He brings his book down and offers you a handshake, "I'm Huang Renjun — I see we study at the same place. May I know your name?"

You don't speak after a minute or two, but you shake his hand, to which he laughs at. You think it was you being overwhelmed. Maybe your soul just knew how much impact he was meant to throw at your life.

Huang Renjun doesn't become a one-time encounter, but instead, he becomes someone you take train rides with; be it you're late or not, to school or to the library. He stays constant occurrence, so much that Huang Renjun turns into Renjun, then Renjunnie — until you're free to call each other names like 'dumbass' and 'stupid' and everything crumbles down; formalities, facades, walls. You don't feel it then, but if you were to look back, you think it's that one dark-skied Monday with you two terribly late and finding yourselves back in the same bench, when everything the world laid down for you has shifted.

Renjun pout his lips, bored. He tears his bag from himself and lets it stay under the shed, but he stretches his hands out to the sky where his eyes are set, watching water fall in tiny drizzles before a full-blown rain, "Perhaps, dance under the rain with me?"

"When we should be at school?" you huff, more amused than questioning but it comes out as a scolding. He only nods his head, and you furrow your brows, "Renjun, you're crazy."

He doesn't reply, only answers with a deadpan gaze that asks Are you going or not? and it makes you tighten your expression further.

"Hold me."

The boy grins in triumph — he cheekily smiles, immediately pulling you under the rain and laughs like a tiny kid. It's contagious, you figure out, his laughter; if not for his hand on your waist and the other entwined with yours, you would've fallen over laughing with him. It was less of a dance and more of a cuddle, swaying to the sound of the rain and his sweet hums. Renjun whispers to you the melody of a love song, and you couldn't help but ponder.

"I always wanted to do this, you know?" you feel silly even confessing, "To dance under the rain with someone, look into each other's eyes, exist as if the world doesn't and maybe give them a kiss. I wonder how that'd feel."

Renjun's serenity read ideas — those that never failed to get you two in trouble. He tilts his head, "Kiss me, then."

You feel like the world stops, and your heartbeat slows, as if the raindrops are little speckles of star-like lights littering the surroundings. Your eyes widen at his suggestion, shock ripping through your body, a confused sound escaping your throat, "What?"

"I guess you don't always need to have feelings for the person you're kissing," Renjun purses his lips. Of all people, you laugh in your head, those words you expected to come out of this one's mouth the least. He huffs, "And I don't have feelings for you."

There's just enough hesitation — uncertainty, unpredictability, skepticism — in his eyes that you find he can't be trusted as much as he normally would be. Renjun drops a half-smile, eyes unreadable, "But I sure do know I want to kiss you. A lot. Right now."

Renjun smiles in victory the second time that day.

═ ∘❁∘ ═

You come across Donghyuck in the most inconvenient way possible; a few months after you started dating Renjun and there's a little too many mishaps with making schedules meet. He strides to your chair one sunny Friday, clothes too colorful for the shades of beige decorating the place. Donghyuck didn't know how to approach you; he just kind of winged it by showing you Renjun's texts that he asked him to pick you up because something came up and he can't make it anymore. You didn't really like that — the fact that he didn't even speak, the fact that Renjun stood you up. You thought Donghyuck was arrogant. The car ride home was silent.

He was far from that, you learn the one too many times the same scenario occurred. Renjun was too busy to even show up, more often in the library than in his own place. Donghyuck, being his best friend, never failed to be there for you, keep your relationship intact, make excuses for the other. He'll pick you up from where you were supposed to meet your boyfriend, grab food and spend the whole day playing video games that only he understands, and then half of the time he'll compliment you with little playful remarks. That day was supposed to be nothing so different from the others — it's just that it didn't take much longer for Donghyuck to fall.

How could he not? You smiled so lovingly and spoke so gently, always so understanding and patient and kind. How can he not, when he's already known what song makes your day the most? When he saw how ethereal you looked under the moonlight, as he danced with you by the shore? Sure, maybe most of these moments wouldn't have been if it wasn't for Renjun's absence, and truly most of the things he loves about you aren't for him; he fell in love anyway. Still, that day was supposed to be nothing so different from any others — you're stuck in the odd place quite between grateful and guilty.

"Something came up, he won't be here." The boy says firmly through gritted teeth, hands-on your wrist trying to make you get up, "Please. He doesn't have his phone. He's not coming anymore, let's go home."

"Let me wait for him, please," you say, eyes teary, "Please, Donghyuck."

"No." He simply mutters, and whether it was the sinking feeling of defeat or the determination in his voice, it doesn't matter. You let yourself get tugged away from that place, feeling weak and oddly empty. The car ride home was silent.

"Thanks a lot, you know?" You shyly say later, once Donghyuck's lost enough in video games and he's run out of knock-knock jokes and witty statements. He couldn't stand the sight of you with your head hung low and eyes teary, "You're always there for me when Renjun is not and... just thank you."

"You're welcome," he sincerely replies. You try to look for it, the lilt in his voice or the smirk stretching his lips, but all you see is worry, and it concerns you. The bad butterflies in your stomach, the bad thoughts in your head; you feel like right now, with you so vulnerable, there should be someone by your side — someone that is totally not Donghyuck. He clears his throat, "You know he didn't mean to, right? He wants time with you too, a lot, you know?"

"I know what I have, Hyuck," you reply, a chuckle at the end of your tone. You lean your back to the couch, head tilted up and voice hoarse, "and I'm fucking scared I'll take him for granted."

Donghyuck's heartbeat slows down, but you don't need to know that. If you're thinking of a similar situation, a place in time back then as cruel winters and as harsh as summer sunlight in the afternoon, you figure he doesn't need to know that, too.

You let out a huff and a smile, "I don't want to know how painful it is to lose Huang Renjun."

Donghyuck thinks he knows why you said it; things normally go down the drain when you start realizing why someone fell for a certain person — at least, he thinks. If his experience is a reliable source, this is the point where you start falling for that person too. When you see how gentle they are, how caring, how understanding. Maybe Donghyuck is lonely — maybe he just wants to be someone who holds another person, singing them lullabies until they fall asleep, much like Renjun does for you. Maybe you're really just lovely — maybe there's an undiscovered force in the universe that places you in the center of his everything. He makes note of the rejection in your confession, and he accepts it, gracefully.

This is the point where he suppresses all the what-ifs in his head — what if you gave me a chance? What if I met you first? What if I didn't skip class that day, and I was with Renjun, and I met you at the same time as him? Do you think you would've ended up with me? — but these thoughts, despite being concealed, they leave a constant reminder that they're still there. It's a truth you both already know, the words that drip like honey from his lips, "I could love you better, so much better."

It'd be a lie to say you didn't think of it, considering his feelings. It would be an even bigger lie if you said that you don't think anyone can love you better than Renjun — you know someone can, and with how you two are handling this, it wouldn't be so hard to. Donghyuck is just so easy to fall for — the way he always knows the right thing to say, the compliments he throws at people, how confident he is, how clingy he gets. You would lie if you're asked, but you can't deny having feelings for Donghyuck, you can't deny how many times you've fallen in a reverie thinking of how good it must feel to be adored by him. Maybe you were lonely, maybe Donghyuck was just like that. Either way, no matter how great this love could be, you know it's wrong.

"I know you could. I couldn't be any happier when I'm with you. Those instants, they're one of the most beautiful moments in my life, but —" you halt, eyes still staring up at the ceiling. The twist in your gut tightens as you proceed, "But in those moments, I was secretly hoping for things. I was hoping that he was the one doing all of that for me. I was hoping that the happiness I had with you, he was giving me instead."

Donghyuck remains silent for a while. He smiles wistfully, "I know."

It's a rather odd answer, but you figure it shouldn't shock you as much anymore. You sit up straight, confused. Donghyuck motions for you to stand as he does the same. Stars shine in his eyes still, but it's a different light — there's hope in them, but it's a difficult kind of hope. He's beautiful even under dull lighting, it's something hard to pronounce; unrestrained and raw, as if one look at him and you'll crumble.

"Please, for just a while, even just a little bit," He steps closer, eyes downcast, "hold me like you love me."

You figure you were right about thinking that there was always something wrongfully more with Donghyuck — also discover that no matter how much more this feeling is, whatever it is, it can never be love; at least not a healthy one. What love could possibly ruin relationships? Donghyuck and Renjun are practically soulmates — they were made to be best friends, and while they had their other friends, nobody is just like Renjun and nobody is like Donghyuck. You don't want them to fall apart; you of all people know how hard it is to lose someone special.

Donghyuck's hug felt like fire, uninhibited and uncontrolled, given to someone so undeserving. You hold him like you love him the same way.

"I don't need you to love me back," but maybe he was hoping a bit. Yeah. Maybe. "There was never a chance for us, you know? Against my own best friend, I know I won't stand a chance. I just wanted to hear it from you."

A pause.

"Because I can dance with you under the moon, and I can walk on streets holding your hands, I can give you all the time in the world — I could spend a lifetime telling everyone I'm yours," Donghyuck locks gazes with you, and you wonder how he manages to be both heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. He shakes his head a bit, "But that won't make you love me."

"Because I can only ever catch you," he says wistfully "whenever he fails to. I always do, don't I? Catch you, save you, love you. But you're not falling for me. You're not in need of my saving. You're not mine to adore."

He loosens his hug, looks at you like the sun bidding farewell to the moon. He's just as beautiful, if not more, he really is — gold dusting his eyelids and strawberry balm on his lips — he's ethereal. Donghyuck is beautiful in all ways manageable and not, but it's also a different kind of beauty — quite like love, adventurous but uncertain, poetic but tragic. There's a lot of pain in this beauty. He closes his eyes.

"There's not much of us, but I'm setting you free."

═ ∘❁∘ ═

You find yourself knocking at Renjun's door that night, for no particular reason — certain events made you forget that he stood you up. Renjun apologizes and repeats his reasons like a mantra, but words seemed to leave his mouth once he sees your eyes; tired and sore. You don't really need his apologies. You just need him.

Apologies, you see, they almost always never come when they're asked for. When they do, they're mostly unwanted and unnecessary from that point forward. You just feel odd, more restless than you actually are, the world is too loud — you just want to close your eyes and escape for a bit. Renjun holds you silently the whole night, his heartbeat calm, his arms holding you tight and secure.

Renjun knows, but he decides it's better for him not to. He shifts a bit, "If not because of me, why are you sad?"

A part of you knows that this is his way of telling you he understands, that he's aware of what somethings happened behind his back. Renjun always knows. The bigger part of you hoped he didn't — selfishly. You know it's the safest choice to keep your mouth shut.

You're sad, for a million reasons or for just one, you don't bother keeping up with the numbers. Renjun looks at you like you're a treasure, though, like he means it — you think the only favor you could do him and for yourself as well is to lie. You grin, effectively hiding away the tears threatening to brim your eyes, "I forgot."

He doesn't really know what answer he expected, but his heart sinks at the reply nonetheless. Renjun decides, tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes quickly in a way Renjun wishes it wasn't. He wakes up tired — he was up all night singing lullabies to himself, whispering confessions that wouldn't change a thing and promises he'll never be able to fulfill, stuff that would never make you stay. Renjun didn't cry all night — there was a tear or two, there was three — he didn't just cry all night. He did so much more — relive the past, think that he's sorry, accept defeat and the fact that he's never gonna be enough for you; then he closes his eyes. The rain pours heavily outside and Renjun reaches a hand out to the sky.

"Perhaps, dance under the rain with me?" he says with tired eyes. "One time once more, baby."

You ignore the telltale signs of a heartache — maybe you were too numb, maybe you wanted to pretend it's all normal. Renjun tugs you outside and pulls you into a hug so tight, as if he didn't want to let go but he's losing you. Is he?

Dancing with Renjun under the rain is oddly similar to the one you shared with Donghyuck under the moonlight, and you find yourself full of guilt as you sway together with him, humming love songs just right next to your ear.

Renjun knows of that dance, of course he does. He was in front of the place you two were supposed to meet at, hoping that he could still make it. Because of this, he doesn't ask why you're entwining fingers with his while recalling memories of another. He doesn't mind — he thinks, as long as your eyes look at him so softly like that, he doesn't mind anything.

You think Renjun is beautiful like this — his everything an aesthetic you can endlessly write about. His eyes, though, his eyes look distant, wishful and longing. Renjun looks at you like he's letting you go and your heart drops, as gentle and as sweet as the poems he's written of you and the kiss he gifts your lips with.

"Just leave, darling," he whispers, "Stay a lovely memory to me."

It's just like any lovely excerpts you wrote, the last line with Renjun quite familiar and bittersweet. As if in any other circumstances, had he said only the second sentence and the second sentence only, it would have made your heart skip and your cheeks rise in temperature.

Real love is a little not like literature, though, at least the one you had with Renjun isn't. It wasn't almost being the same person. It wasn't sweet chaos. For both of you, it was doing what was the best for each other at the moment — whether it will make you cry, whether it will be painful before it becomes easy, knowing that it won't always be picture perfect but still wanting to give each other what you deserve. It was so much simpler than how he said it in his poetry, just as complicated but not any less romantic than that. Huang Renjun knew that you were aware of what was the best for the both of you — with neither of you ever wanting to force something to work and end up hating each other the more it fails, successfully trading the happy memories with more regrets, you walk away. Renjun doesn't follow just because love isn't always like the idea of it, but he does remember to never forget. You walk away, holding his love dear to your heart.

═ ∘❁∘ ═

Some people are just not meant to be alone, you think. Mark Lee comes just as quickly as Renjun was gone.

You don't even know why your paths crossed — Mark is literally the town's golden boy. He plays sports and aces exams and has a good set of friends; surely, he has more important matters to deal with, and definitely getting coffee at a dingy coffee shop isn't one of them. Not when it's three a.m in the morning, at least.

The shy barista at the counter sends you a gleeful smile as he hands out your order, one which you return with a curt nod and a quiet wish goodnight. He watches intently, subtle but focused — he really isn't one to gawk at people, but he couldn't help it. You held with you a smile that doesn't match the exhaustion in your eyes. You looked like hope. You looked like someone to look up and search for the stars even on a cloudy day. You seemed like a full-bloomed spring to trapped minds and sour hearts. You think Mark is a little too curious like Alice. Mark thinks you're even better than the Wonderland he'd always fall for.

He knows you saw him, he feels the hesitation in your stare. He knows you know him, he's shared a couple of classes with you and has done a couple of assignments as a team, so naturally, Mark couldn't help himself but ask, "Wanna sit down with me?"

You walk up to him with a nod, grateful. Mark tries to remain calm for the rest of the night — caffeine not helping — and he tries to look at his book instead of you, but he simply fails to. He tries his best to conceal himself, but he can't seem to tear away. He can't look at anywhere else when you're sitting there right in front of him — you know pain, you're familiar with sadness, have always been friends with enduring what you couldn't take; Mark sees in you a landscape that makes his heart hurt, a leafless tree he loves by itself but couldn't resist the urge to nurse back into life. Every now and then you'd look up from your cup and he would look away from this book that he's "reading" and your eyes would meet, and the both of you would shyly giggle and open up a small talk.

He walks you home that night, this one and the other and the many next times after that; it's just your thing by now, getting coffee at the most unreasonable hours of the day and staying up until it's too late for either of you to sleep because by this hour you should be blinking awake, walking down lifeless streets and past neon signs and holding hands. Mark would look at you with such awe and when he does, you have some things you forget, and your heart races. He's became a regular part of your day, a constant stranger. And then he becomes your friend. Then kind of more. You think, maybe, just maybe, he can become something more than more.

"I have many regrets in this life, you know? But I don't wanna be imprisoned by them," you shrug, too scared to look up at him and see that he wonders just what failures you've done. You continue your slow pace, both in walking and letting go of things much like words, "I don't want you to be one of them."

Mark stops walking, but he doesn't make you feel like you've said something wrong, so you finally glace up and meets his eyes; those that hold as much tiredness as yours, pressure, those that are glassy and brimming with tears. You smile, "And I like you, a lot, even if I'm in broken pieces. "

Mark looks at you and doesn't see majestic brokenness. Mark falls deeper in love that day, the next and all the others; you were deep like that. He fell and couldn't stop falling and he can't wait to fall even deeper into you, diving into unknown waters with blind fates and silent confessions of love.

Your relationship was practical — literal and convenient, full of compromise but in a good way. You both were almost always on the same page of what should be done and how to do it, and if not, you two know that it's the best to give it a rest and understand. The balance, that kind of synchrony — it was something you both need, was something you liked about your dynamic; the fact that the partnership was there and you're certain of no taking more than you could give and no giving of less than you deserve. For once, you feel like you aren't pouring liquid into a leaking jar, and you feel content at the warmth he gives you with.

Renjun never made you feel this way; he didn't make enough accommodations for your relationship and you didn't voice out your expectations of him, you just wished he magically knew. Because he always knew that you would understand and other people wouldn't, he ended up giving you most of the weight of the relationship you both should've carried together. Mark was everything you hoped Renjun was; this is where the conflict begins.

When love is fueled by what the past wasn't able to give and what the present is willing to offer, you end up falling for the ideas and not the person. He makes up to what Renjun didn't, he filled to the brim what Renjun wasn't able to, he satiates what Renjun couldn't satisfy. You always saw the things Mark did as what you expected from someone else, so you weren't able to appreciate them as they are. You never truly saw him as Mark Lee who loves you, always as the boy who did everything the last didn't.

Just as any relationship that revolves around somebody who's not involved, the conclusion was something you saw coming. It comes with tired eyes and worn out sighs, burned out hearts and linked fingers, sour hearts turning bitter. Mark doesn't look at you at all, and you keep your eyes set to the stars.

"The thing with me is I always long for consistency — for someone to understand me and stay understanding of me forever." He breathes out, voice raw. Did he scream? Was he screaming in those empty spaces you two gave each other? In any of those yells, did he call your name? You think you need to yell at the top of your lungs just to hear a sound louder than your heartbreak. He chuckles before continuing, "And I know that it doesn't exist and it never will. I knew that since childhood, but even if I continue disappointing myself, I never stopped hoping."

His shoulders drop — he feels that weak that time, even his knees buckle down and his eyes sting from holding back tears. "So baby, don't play with me," he whispers, more begging than warning and he falls apart, "I don't need a chase — I need someone to wait for the end with."

There's a whine at the back of your throat, but you settle with looking at his direction with an apologetic call of his name. He doesn't reply.

Mark never knew that he could fall in love with the same person all over again even during a break-up. You're just lovely like that — always dancing in your daydreams while you carry the world on your back. Mark feels his breath catch at his throat, he feels his palms go numb, he feels his heart going haywire and begging him so desperately because no, no, don't let go, please, don't let go!

"There's a huge difference between how much I love you, and how much I can take." He finally spares you a glance, his everything so spent and lonely and blue in a way that isn't the calm of an ocean. "If you can't love me, then please let me go."

Mark knew your answer when you smiled.

────── ❁ ──────

The trip to the coffee shop was slow and empty and chilly, your hands trembling in need to get a hold of warm coffee and your feet taking little steps to such a familiar place. Honestly, you don't even know why you're letting yourself go there — why do you keep on doing this, torturing yourself? You don't even know — maybe you came here to reminisce the past, hold it close one last time before letting it go. Maybe you're here to remember how Mark was, how he was before he met you — oh, how you wish he didn't meet you. How badly you wish he never did, how you wish he never offered you a seat, his comfort, his love, a place in his heart. How you wish you didn't steal the sparkles in his eyes, and at that very moment, you feel the sudden urge to turn around.

But you're already pushing the glass door wide open, causing the chimes to make that delightful sound.

"Good...!" the cheery voice fades, a concerned look adorning exhausted eyes, "...evening. The usual?"

You hum, nodding soullessly. The boy — Jeno, quietly works your order until he decides he's had enough of you rubbing your cheeks raw wiping down tears. He sighs and finishes your drink, hands it to you with a sympathizing smile, "Uh, you don't look fine, but are you okay?"

You suppress a giggle and a glare — why does he care? But you're lonely, too lonely, so lonely that you only manage a nod, "Rough time. I wish today didn't happen."

"Oh, but other people had the best day of their lives today. They wouldn't experience that day if today didn't happen," he smiles, flashes of child-like optimism and hopes hinting behind the sleepy glaze in his eyes. "You're on your way to yours."

And while on any other day, his reply would have made you annoyed, you find that he's right, and wish that he indeed is. You feel like it's the only right that didn't go wrong today.

Something warns you that you shouldn't be getting yourself caught in his strings and his ways, but you find yourself straying around his orbit. You were lonely. It was that bad — so bad that you found comfort in everything and everyone and Lee Jeno just happened to be convenient; It's just safe to be around each other, and that's what great friends are supposed to be, right? Jeno doesn't judge and he doesn't pry when you tell him not to push it, and he tries to understand without forcing you to make him if you're not ready. Lee Jeno had a soul like comfort and a smile like a piece of home. You insist that you had no interest in either, but with you so down and him the only thing pulling you up, you couldn't help but let him in.

You think some people are just like that — timeless souls stuck in mortal bodies, liquid gold; glowing and burning and bright and hopeful, stars. They're like stars — human stars.

He's always beside you, you see, Lee Jeno. He answers the dumbest questions and the deeper ones, he stays up listening to your heartaches and struggles. He knows a lot about you — never everything, but they're more than enough — and you know about him, too. It's a dangerous edge you two are leaning far too close to tipping over, and still, your gaze screams life and hope and energy, Jeno thinks he doesn't mind. He remembers earlier memories with him crumbling under your fingertips, tears in his eyes.

"Mark Lee... he's not replaceable and I'm not a replacement..." he shifts his eyes down, can't bring it to him to just look at you without breaking himself. He manages a heartwrenching smile, "but I think I'd rather be a replacement rather than a distraction, darling."

But you looked at him and cup his cheeks and kiss his forehead so mellowly, assuring him that he's neither. The storm in his heart stops and all his insecurities don't matter, and Jeno doesn't think he ever felt this good — so light, so dreamy. Your touch brings comfort, much like lullabies, and after years on insufferable insomnia, Jeno falls asleep.

Your gaze, too. If you continue looking at him that way, he doesn't think he'll mind anything.

"Thanks, Jen. For the coffee," you say with a smile, another night spent with him at the coffee shop. These days, you spend most of your free time waiting for his shift to end, watching him stutter and flush every time he realizes you've been watching him. There's a giddy feeling spreading inside your gut as you continue, "and for staying with me. That was so thoughtful of you — how much lovelier can you be?"

He laughs, shaking his head. He sighs, "Stop it. You're giving me hope."

Your heart skips a beat.

"Oh, but I want to," you quickly roll your eyes, an attempt to faux cool control, your expression immediately shifting to something welcoming and soft just enough that his chest tightens. Jeno feels kind of odd — a good kind of odd, a welcomed sensation. You beam up at him with glassy eyes. Jeno shifts his to his shoelaces.

"Don't do that."

"Jen..."

"I love you," he confesses, shallow breaths coming in quick intervals. The floor seems to sway under his feet and the skies feel like they're swirls of dripping liquid, and it's hard to even breathe, let alone swallow the bitterness of his words, "But I would rather have you not say it back than hear you not mean it."

"I'm... I— Jen," you gasp out, fast to hold his hands to try to keep him down. For a reason or two, you feel like crying. Jeno feels lost. "I'm falling."

But you're not, and you don't know why you said it, but there's a galaxy in his eyes and the universe so beautifully laid down in his mind and he's pulling you close, tears in his eyes, this boy. Lee Jeno who's so in love with you, Lee Jeno who's hopelessly whipped, Lee Jeno — your sweet, sweet boy. You look up to him and shakily whispers, "Please catch me."

Jeno looks at the luminaries and wonders what it would feel like if one day he looks into the very same orbs only to find that the stars have fallen.

The wind blows gently, the coldness of the place prickling his skin, but Jeno doesn't think it's what caused the flush to rise on his cheeks. He stutters, curses a little, says again those little words and dives for a kiss — you feel like it's the best night ever; no nightmare, just pure bliss.

You blindly walk the path inside your house, dropping your belongings on either of your sides. You try to keep your knees from buckling as you bring yourself to your bathroom, stripping off your clothes. You lean your back to the cold tile walls of your shower, feeling the rush of water that is supposed to drown your thoughts not doing anything to keep them at bay. What have I done?

Loving Jeno is easy, though, far too easy if you may. He's so full of love and in need of affection but never asks for them, and you're more than glad to give all of that to him without words needed. The days with him have been light-hearted, felt deeply nonetheless. In this little world, it's you and him, him and you, no one else. Right? Is that right? Do you promise?

Jeno knocks at your home one day, sullen and lethargic. He spreads his arms out for a hug, one you throw yourself into without hesitation. He leans into the touch, leaning down to burry his head on the crook of your neck, "Thank you, baby."

Your brows draw closer, "For what?"

"You were never mine, but you were always lonely." He suddenly says, He suddenly says, voice fading weak and unstable. There's warm tears dampening your shoulder, and he shakes ever so slightly that you panic and try to pull away, but he doesn't let you. Instead, he continues, "In my twisted logic, I made myself believe that it's the same."

"What are you saying, Jen?" You laugh, a bit confused and a lot afraid. "I love you."

"No, please, don't say that," his reply baffles you. When he lets you go, Jeno has a certain saddened look in his eyes, and it feels so familiar that you should be numb to it by now. You're not, though, and so you pretend to not know where this all would lead. He pulls you in again and hugs you tighter, "Let me tell you that I love you without you answering back, please."

The boy breathes out shakily, "I want us to have at least one memory that isn't a lie."

And then Lee Jeno says goodbye.

────── ❁ ──────

Park Jisung is the clumsy florist who keeps breaking vases in the flower shop his cousin owns, just several blocks away from the kindergarten both your nephews attended. You meet him one too many times you had to pick the little boy up, and talked to him finally one fine Tuesday when you decided flowers would be nice, out of random. You become friends from then on.

This thing you have with Jisung is something lovely, child-like, and carefree. It doesn't put any pressure on you — there are expectations, but they're all voiced out and kept healthy. You're friends — great friends, not best friends — whose dynamic is not necessarily convenient. It's safe to say that some people think you have a complicated relationship.

You think, not really. Not to the two of you, at least — Jisung just knows when you're down and in need to be left alone or cuddled, while you know when he needs to cry or if he's pushing himself to his limits. He knows what flower you hold most dear, your treasured scent, your favorite shade of yellow. You know his most loved tracks, the beat he looks the happiest humming to, the color of his dreams. It's much more simple than that — it's just that you two have fun, even with your differences, and when you're together, everything else just fades away.

You just... don't like being alone. Jisung doesn't like not having company — well, there are indeed people he doesn't want to be accompanied by, but he doesn't like being the only one walking alone in crowds of many. He doesn't make your heart skip, not really, instead it's just a warm feeling in your chest, much like home. He doesn't make you nervous — not at all, but he does make you feel safe. Comforted, even. It's the type of love you've always yearned for, the only kind of love he's comfortable with.

"You dance?" Your eyes widen in surprise, dropping your book on the table. Then you smile, "Oh? Aren't you full of surprises?"

"Mhm, you'll see." He says with embarrassment hinting his voice, but then he stops arranging the flowers and looks at where you're sitting. "You? Aren't you full of surprises, too?"

You pick up your book, a sudden low, shrugging. "It won't be a surprise if I say now, wouldn't it?"

He just shakes his head, tries to lift the vase to the other side and accidentally knocks another one down. You laugh at him, curious at how much control he has over his body that he must be able to dance so fluidly, hit the beat like it's what he's born for, and yet he can't seem to hold a vase and not break it. Jisung giggles, taking it lightly. You wish he didn't.

The days with Jisung are filled with your favorite bouquets and post-it notes. Each and every day, the words written inside changes from 'You did well', until it develops to 'I hope you smiled today,' 'I wish something good happened today,' and 'You're really, really pretty.' He'd take you to little uphills, asks you to teach him how to make floral crowns from wildflowers, dance with you barefoot under bright daylight. A little summer, a certain person, your most dreaded feeling of having someone mean so much that you let flowers bloom in your chest until it's so hard to breathe and you cough them up.

"My parents asked me to study dance in another country," he mumbles one day, a shaky breath leaving his lips, "Please give me a reason not to go."

"Chase your drive, Sungie," you whisper back. You lean your head further to his chest, safe and warm and fading, "I love you, so choose your dreams over me."

There's the slightest hint of betrayal in his voice, a tinge of rejection in his eyes, "If you love me, why would you make me choose?"

If you love me, why can't you choose me? You selfishly ask, the kid in you whining at the thought of being left alone. The greedy part of you begs to ask him to stay, the needy part of you wants to hug him until he's so full of you that he forgets even the bare thought of wanting anything else. The silent voice inside you, the one that learned and keeps learning, the one that could've saved you so many times if you listened to it, sighs sadly. Don't risk anyone's future for your present, it seems to say.

"Because I love myself too," you look directly to his eyes, cupping his cheeks in between your palms, "and we need to put ourselves before anybody else."

And yet again, you're starstruck by the almost golden swirls in his irises, a peek of his soul. You think his eyes are beautiful — astounding, art worthy, a sight to never get tired of. He thinks they're only beautiful because he's looking at you.

This thing with Jisung isn't something you should've let go. You shouldn't have let him go but you weren't ready and the last thing you wanted was to hurt someone who held you so close beautifully. He didn't mean to, though — it was just too hard not to go overboard, and the next thing he knew, he was in love. He didn't mean to, so he walks you home the last night, hand in hand with a certain something hidden underneath his mellow smile. Jisung stands in front of you, waiting for you to open your gates, but you don't move. You stay basking in the tenderness of his gaze.

You think the little problem is that he's even more breathtaking up close and in silence, when the night feels so dead that it thrives — you feel like if you weren't so broken, if you don't keep on seeing another person when you look at him in the eyes, if you let go of the past, Jisung would be everything your heart desired. It just so happened that you two are both too infinite for forever, too broken to fix anything for the latter. Jisung was too charming — his smile was one that doesn't ask for attention but still steals it, never content with just taking your breath away so he takes with him your mind and soul.

You can't handle losing any more of yourself, though, so you smile, "Thank you for waiting."

"I have always been waiting for you," he grins shyly. You make a mental note to remember him like this — dyed locks a mess on top of his head and glasses messily perched on his nose bridge, tall and too pretty to be real, eyes so loving and expressive. There's an obvious sorrow in his voice, "Without fail, consistently, inevitably, forevermore."

You smile, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss on his cheeks, "Good night, Jisung."

The last note comes in between the pages of your notebook, a pretty pastel purple accompanied by pressed wildflowers. There, in his messy letters and colorful ink, reads a confession:

Maybe I couldn't stop myself from falling because it felt like flying with you.

You shake your head, sigh reading 'I told you not to do that'. Still, you feel a tug at your chest, a link between the two of you in the sense that you seem to be moving in synchrony with these words — Park Jisung is your last love, you swear. You shift your eyes, tired of the same chain all over again, flipping the note to read the words behind them.

When you find the right love at the wrong time, what will you do to make it work?

You sigh to yourself as you read the question, tracing the pristine paper with your pen, and finally, finally you smile;

Let it go. Set it free, because the greatest love of all is the one that lets you grow.

You tilt your head up, holding back the tears that threaten to spill from your eyes.

────── ❁ ──────

Zhong Chenle invades your life like a hurricane of mixed emotions, a little like three months just in time when you finally decided you've had enough heartbreaks. You meet him from one of your friends, Qian Kun, and literally had to stop and wonder how in the world he managed to find this thing — you can't help it, alright? Chenle just stood silent and proud, clad in leather and rumors and reputations and reeking of expensive. He comes in the scene like thoughts as turbulent as unwanted flashbacks and as easily as finding trouble looking for the right answer when you're in a rush.

Quickly as he entered your life, he became a friend; you're too familiar with this scene, but you've had enough. You can't take any more. You've spent most of your life haunted by sugar smiles and breathy laughs and in exchange, had yourself break everything you wanted to keep intact. It doesn't matter that he's not at all what he's perceived to be, it doesn't matter that he makes your breath hitch. You don't even care what you're going against with, if it's fate or heavenly beings or the world — no more. You can't anymore.

The world is the ocean and the ocean is a God — people are mere sailors who think they're stronger than the tides, but they're not; once the waters have made their decision to kill you, there's no reason you should fear the phenomenons trying to do you harm. It seems like it's made that plan, that thing you hoped so much you wouldn't do. Chenle knows so he smiles at you brightly, "Don't you dare run away from what you're feeling."

"Else what, you gonna run after me?" You bite back just for the sake of it, laughter bubbling from your throat, "Gonna go chase me down?"

He shrugs, taking a challenge and a risk, "You better not regret."

"Absolutely fucking not." Kun hisses after you've told him what happened, months after you've started dating and you're tired of hiding it already. Your friends already tease you about getting together, anyway, so why should you even hide? Apparently, this. The profanities leaving his mouth should worry you, really, but it doesn't; not as much as his disagreement. Still, you couldn't even bother to ask him why because you see it in his eyes — you know him that much, you're familiar with that look — "You're not in love with Chenle, please, we both know this."

"I am in love with him!" You say, hurt. The look in his eyes softens, but the pain of his word doesn't, neither does his determination, "Kun, please. I didn't tell you just so you could lecture me, I told you because you're my friend! I do love him!"

"Are you, really? In love with him, you say? Completely?" Your eyes shift to the side after his statement, the lack of sarcasm and warmth in his tone both bothering you. You want to cry. When you look at Kun, you find he feels just as much. "You're not in love with him in the way he deserves."

There's a dry chuckle leaving your lips as you grab your bag, standing up with a tear slowly rolling down in your cheek. More than devastation, there's a certain withering look in your eyes. Kun tries to apologize, but you're already moving away from him. The betrayal in your voice is impossible to ignore and forget, "How dare you make accusations about how I'm feeling?"

Falling in love with Chenle wasn't in the plan; in fact, you hardly even had any plans to begin with. As another fact, the only plan was to not fall in love with anyone anymore. Plans are ever-changing things, you'd always counter, they depend on the situation. When Chenle came in your life, you figure there happened to be another shift — something significant had changed, a good change.

Maybe it is why you didn't even take Kun seriously. You've always hoped that all those lows would lead to this point, the part where there's content spreading on your chest, a feeling just as bright as the luminescent blanket of embedded diamonds and rubies, a sky full of stars. By your side, the boy looks at you with eyes shining just as much; Zhong Chenle, badly misunderstood, so truly loved. You couldn't help but pull him in a kiss — giggly and messy, chaste and ever so delicate.

You think you could spend lifetimes just staring at him. You swore on it, really, to not be in love with him. More than anybody else, you hoped to fate that you'll never fall in love again. It's just that this person — Zhong Chenle, he has a tendency to be very addicting, and oh, how easily addicted you are. His kiss a lovely burn against your lips, his words a heavenly whisper to your ear, his existence a delightful surprise. You find it inevitable to fall because of the many similar nights before this, just weeks after you two met. Those days where you two were laughing way too hard for midnight and your heart blossomed with happiness it hasn't felt for long. It's the sweetest kind of doom.

It's doom, nonetheless.

"With whom was your first relationship with?" Chenle suddenly asks, no hint of jealousy in his eyes, but there is, aside from pure curiosity, something else — lost, baffled, seeking an explanation for something he doesn't even think he should know. "I mean, you're mine. You're my first love, but I know I'm not yours, and I'm curious. "

"You don't even know him, Lele." You laugh, trying to hide your hesitation. The boy insists, says that he just needs a name. You roll your eyes affectionately, "Huang Renjun. He's a great guy, but timing kinda messed up."

Chenle hums appreciatively, but he stops trying to find constellations and making up shapes of his own; instead, he dives in a pool thoughts deeper than the dark. He thinks of what he doesn't know if he believes in, but he keeps his eyes up at the stars and hopes to God that his life wasn't such a movie; he stays quiet.

"Who's Jaemin, then?" The question comes, harmless but shocking nonetheless. Chenle breaks his stare from the dull-starred sky and looks at you with a smile brighter than daylight. His question makes your gut twist. "Jaemin who danced with you under the rain... Jaemin who made your day with corny jokes, with late-night talks, with coffee, with notes."

You don't reply, so he ponders some more. He thinks about walking the streets holding hands, he thinks of cheek kisses. He thinks of waking up tomorrow and doing all of that with you. He looks forward to a couple of years — maybe you'll move in together, maybe you'll share a place and clothes and everything. He thinks of counting down the memories, having lived most of his life satisfied. Chenle thinks of doing it all with you; someone who takes tragedies and turns them into masterpieces. Someone who sings sad songs with a saccharine smile.

"Jaemin with a reputation, known for all the wrong reasons..." his eyes cast down, dull and slowly piecing everything together, "Just like me."

He thinks of a vow, a promise — to the stars, till dawn do us part. He thinks of how near the sun is from rising, and he thinks of silhouette, of being hidden behind one. You don't answer until then, so he just takes it as your reply.

"You don't have to. I already know," he smiles, fingers entwining with yours. "Maybe I just hoped that I didn't have to find out from Kun."

Chenle is innocent, kind of naive. He wears his heart on his sleeves and gifts its pieces to anyone who dares to get to know him. He loves a lot — his friends, his family, stars. A person who grieves the loss of midnight too, when the stars start to fade; you. Because of that, he could forgive anything you did and would do.

It's one of his many ways of love, you see, this thing you have going on. Chenle's just like that — you never know just how much more he can give before he runs out; there's just so much of him and it's difficult to put it into words. He's shown you how he treasures relationships, how he adores everything around him in each and every time a different way and kind. He's shown you so much, all the ways he displays his affection with, this little magic trick. That's not all of it, though, and a little part of you sinks because of the fact that a lifetime will not be sufficient enough for you to know just what this love is, completely, because every passing moment, the boy falls for something; each fondness different from the lasts.

Chenle just loves like that; so much that he doesn't mind being loved for carrying pieces of another person — being adored simply because he made you remember what you didn't want to forget. He thinks, if he doesn't think it matters, it wouldn't; he prays that if he doesn't bring it up, you'd forget. He's loved you for so long but you know so little of his kind of love; ever so pure and limitless, impossible to define and dictate.

When he holds your hands, though, you feel like it's enough — it's enough to have known slightly more than what you think you should.

"You give too much," are the only words that you were able to form. He looks at you as if to ask if you think so, and you feel the time stop for a bit when he leans his head on your shoulders, his dark locks tickling your skin. You laugh, humorless and sentimental, "Isn't it about time you'd learn to love within limits?"

"You're brilliant, you know?" He mumbles, albeit sleepily. "Kind of infinite. There are no restrictions in the love you deserve."

Something about brilliant just hits so different from beautiful — something so damning and sweet and you feel it again; just how much love you have in you, how much of it you are willing to give. Maybe boundaries really aren't your thing, maybe its the reason why you let Chenle adore you beyond what you know you can take, why you allowed him to give more than he should've given. Maybe it's why you poured affection after affection without conditions — maybe that's why you were selfish enough to love shadows. Maybe it's as most people say — you tend to burn too bright, to share too much of yourself, and not everybody can handle that. You're a bit too much for others. Maybe it's why you find yourself sitting down, pen roughly scribbling on paper.

Somewhere, there's a soul aching for your love... but no matter how much we try, we know it's not here, with me.

────── ❁ ──────

Kun doesn't knock at your door until a few weeks later, and whether it was him giving you space or him not being able to leave Chenle alone, you think of it as a blessing in disguise. It wasn't even after a week or two that you found it in you to get your life together — fake it till you make it, clean up your home, clean up your mess. You greet him with a smile on your face, tears prickling your eyes, "Come in."

Kun doesn't even say anything, he just puts the snacks he bought somewhere and crashes the sofa. He turns off the television, eyes the clearly was-messy place, and huffs at you, "It's just me. You don't have to play cool with me when you're feeling so broken."

"You're acting so much like Kim Dongyoung." You whisper just enough that he could hear before making your way to him and sobbing in his arms. Kun lets you stay like that, his hands threading your hair and affectionately patting your back, a soft 'I told you you're not ready yet' that's less scolding than it is loving. You stop crying then, just miserable sobs and sniffles, and he stands up to get you a cup of water. You look at him.

"Thank you, Kun."

Suddenly, his not amused expression is back. He moves away a little, placing a strict space in between the two of you, and then directly looks into your eyes, "Were you ever gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Were you ever gonna tell me, or was I just supposed to learn about it after you've left?"'

"Kun," you breathe deeply, "I need to."

"For who?" He asks, hoping that amongst the reasons read your name. Are you finally choosing yourself? Is it still because of other people? He wants to ask, but his voice keeps failing him and all he can whisper is words about how he's proud of you, how much you've endured, how badly he wishes to ease the pain. Kun doesn't look at you with disappointment, with hurt; he looks at you with pure utter understanding, and you find it in you, a reason to smile.

────── ❁ ──────

You can't help but reminisce things as you walk from your home to the train station, neither can you when you asked the person in charge for which train will get you out of the place the quickest. You didn't really have plans, you never did, and perhaps that's where everything starts to go wrong; you just forget things, or at least, you try to suppress them. You never tried to solve anything.

This town knew too much — there are memories of Renjun on the trail from here to the benches, flashes of Donghyuck's sly grin meeting your gaze in the reflection of the glass whenever you look at the vending machines. You feel like you've walked every street in here, hand in hand with Mark, like you've danced under all these blinking lights with Jisung, like you've been to everywhere with Chenle. There is so much to remember, and this place can't hold them all and it breaks your heart so much, knowing that many things are meant to be memories, but not all memories should be remembered. You close your eyes in silent hopes that no matter how painful, you never forget one second.

It was impossible, surely, but you think that the thought of being able to recall them completely will be enough to keep you company. Even until now, you don't really want to be alone — some people are just not meant to be by themselves, and sometimes those people aren't really good at settling down either — being one of them, you leap from one crumbling bridge to another, hoping to never feel the pain of a great fall. There was never an end where you didn't.

Waiting for the train to board, you look back to a certain place in time. The one where you think everything began.

Your first love is something you remember vividly. It came in the form of childhood crushes, wildflowers, and ruined playgrounds. It's a coincidental meeting; you were running away from your house, tired of the yelling and the crashing and the constant fear in your little heart, while he was sneaking away from his house to play more because he's a 'rebel'. Your first heartbreak takes some years forward, years just a little far from now even if it feels like it's been forever standing here, waiting for an uncertain return.

Until now, you think that it was that night under a rusty slide and above dry leaves when your life started to change.

You meet again with Na Jaemin just minutes before your train arrives, a brief eye-contact and a skip of heart and it doesn't take so much for you to know; those eyes, that smile, the red string sitting too tightly on his wrist. You remember what promise that meant — you know that, right? The thing they say about red strings, how they connect people? — and what childish hope that strand held — if we wear this, we would always find our way to each other, because we have a red string connecting us now! You remember, you do, really — of course, you do; how you could you ever forget him? Surely, maybe he's grown a lot, and everything about him has changed, he even dyed his soft hair blue. You're certain, though, you knew that it's him — maybe the red string worked. Maybe it's the butterfly effect and the heartbreaks your heart and several others nursed. Maybe it's the look in his eyes that remained soft and sweet and honest.

You miss your train, but you can't help but feel like you're just in time.

"Jae—" you choke, eyes wide and shocked, "Jaemin!"

────── ❁ ──────

Na Jaemin meets you again on a busy train station, three years ago after he just came back in town for a visit. He remembers the punch in his gut at the sight of your face, the red string delicately wrapped on your wrist, far too small but still so beautiful. He remembers the sullen look on your face, the realization dawning on him that you're late for your class and he chuckles; you never really made it in time for school, even as a child. The rain pours and he has to fiddle his bag for his umbrella, opens it so that he could let you in. When he takes a step closer though, you were talking to another boy, and Jaemin thinks he's the one a little late.

He comes across you a lot of times next to that, too, but never when you're alone. He thinks, his timing is a mildly off as well. Every time he tries to come and talk to you — when you were sitting alone in the middle of a busy restaurant, inside the coffee shop, in front of his niece's kindergarten — there was always somebody else. It reminds him of back then, one of your conflicts as you started to grow up and apart; the many times you needed each other and the other person is too caught up needing someone else. Jaemin thinks that the beat you both are dancing to is a little too delayed.

Jaemin remembers meeting a boy just as blue as him, a face a little familiar, smiling longingly at the two dancing under the moon. He remembers eyes as regretful as his, he remembers a smile, "They look so happy, don't they?"

None of that matters, though, not when he's pulling you into a hug and dragging you to a rooftop, not when you're several floors off the ground and beside you is Na Jaemin, sitting side by side, with eyes that take you back to the past and makes you hope for an unbroken present.

When you two stand under the bright sky and you stare at him instead of gushing about flying, Jaemin realizes just how drastically different this present is. If the look in your eyes says anything, he's certain that you feel the same.

You have just always been waiting for this moment, you know? And you missed your train, but you were just in time to meet Jaemin, and the rush of affection cleared all the lines you had to cross and everything was light and filled with teary laughter before right now. You've had it planned, the both of you, multiple scenarios where you two could meet again — none of them are this way. It's awkward and tense and the other feels so far away; this wasn't how things were supposed to go.

Jaemin could leave. He should leave, he figures, thinking that it's always been what he's best at. It's not working, anyway; maybe it was him being gone and you going through so much, maybe it's life knocking some sense in the both of you, but none of that matters — it's not working. It's just like this, relationships — two people could start at the same point and still go separate ways. It's not meant to be. He could leave, forget, maybe he'd find enough courage that he marks this chapter closed and finally, finally stop thinking of childhood feelings and even the grown-up ones. He could find a new beginning in this chapter closed.

That's the way it goes, anyway, right? Some ends feel like new starting points. Jaemin could drop it here. He could make it easier for himself, he'd be able to say this isn't working and he'd be back to his normal self; the one that looks at you and looks for you in a way that he did before falling in love. He could be young and free, away from untold reasons and unsaid apologies and undelivered feelings. He could make it easier for himself.

But to hell with ease, he didn’t want to.

"Remember, back then, we would always sneak out to play in the rain?" Jaemin is the first to break the silence, "And we look at flowers... you used to cry at everything back then!"

You flick his arm at that, and he sits on the floor next to the railing because he couldn't hold himself up anymore, laughing. Even until now, this still feels like a very vivid dream. You spend the night trying to believe that this is reality — Jaemin does the same.

Fate has a tendency to bring people apart and put them back together again, so you can't really help it that Jaemin was months and weeks away from leaving the town again. There was a point where you cursed time — you just found him, and now, why is he being taken away from you? There was a time where Jaemin thought you weren't meant to be — if you are, then why do you keep on being forced apart?

He thinks he really should stop thinking this way. It's just something really odd, this love stuff, because it's never really just one thing but rather a couple of many nothings to make up an entirely different, supposedly magical occurrence. Love is never just love — it's oftentimes euphoria with even the slightest glimpse of devastation. Jaemin doesn't think he understands why the both of you try so hard to make it easy — no matter how difficult, he knows it's worth it, knows that he'll fight for it.

Jaemin spends his last day in this place smiling, cupping your cheeks as he stands in the middle of a busy train station yet again, this time, with you in his reach. The skies are dark but his smile is bright, and it burns brighter when you flush after asking him why he's staring at you so hard. The boy cooes, "Perfect should try to be you."

"If perfect was me, perfect would be a mess," you quickly counter even through you being too flustered. In your absolute anxiety, you think that everyone is looking and judging you. With the way Jaemin is staring at you, you don't think you'd mind even if they whisper things so mean.

"A lovable mess," he raspily whispers, sincerity in his gaze and honesty in his words. Jaemin smiles, "I can't make this up. I fall for you several times a day, repeatedly."

Jaemin lets go of your face and dips in to kiss your forehead, and then he giddily messes your hair. You can't even bring it in you to get mad — you have several minutes and you have so much to say and the time is too little, your words are so limited. Jaemin asks for your hands and leaves a red string, identical to the ones you gave each other as children but bigger and adorned with the tiniest butterfly charm. You look at him, confused, "What's this?"

"A farewell gift, and something I'll definitely come back for," he flicks your forehead as if to say it's so obvious, and you can't help but feel like time is running out all over again. You breathe, unsteady and ragged, a desperate call of his name, "Na Jaemin?"

He doesn't answer, but he wipes the tears streaming down your face and he hums.

"I'm so happy that the ending is me and you." You finally confess, taking him aback. You smile, sweet and cruelly beautiful, brutally emotional, and if there were no children around and Jaemin was a tad bit more shameless, he would pull you into a deep kiss. He couldn't, though, so he just gapes and stares and listens.

"I'm so happy that it's back to you."

As the train boards, you find yourself realizing how tough the world gets — the lovely, sinking feeling lingering in your chest as you recall the highs and the lows of life and fate.

You've had far too many great loves in your life, so much that using the term would probably not sound special anymore to other people — but they're different, each one of them, the way they loved distinct at least — and this one, just this one, Na Jaemin, by far, is the greatest.

The end is sweet and lovely, if a bit sour and bitter. The end is where you hopefully find yourself.

────── ❁ ──────

"Mom and dad keeps on fighting. " your nephew murmurs under his breath, one sunny Friday spent walking on streets that are cooling down, on the way to what must be the happiest place on Earth for a kid. "Do you think they don't love each other anymore?"

You nervously scratch your nape, thinking of easy ways to reply to the question. You think of your childhood, how you spent most of it dreaming of love. How until today, the thought of it still haunts you. You just shrug, "People just have some bad days, but look, they're still together, right?" he nods, and you feel a blossom of proudness in your chest, "They love each other, and that's why they had you."

The kid suddenly frowns, "Why do people get together, then?"

You halt your steps before continuing, on the verge of asking why he asked that question before you realize that it's your nephew, anyway. He loves holding mature conversations even if he doesn't understand anything, he likes asking away and being taken seriously, like an adult. You chuckle, "Uhm, because people make each other happy!"

"Why don't you have someone, then?" You don't know how to answer his question, and neither did you expect it. He looks too interested to be brushed off. "You said people make other people happy!"

"Hm, well, I do have someone," you think of sugar smiles and giggly kisses as you say those words. There's a comforted exhale leaving your lips as you look down on the kid, "But, he's not the only reason I'm happy... I'm happy with myself, without him."

"Do you not love him, then? Because you're happy without him?"

"I love him, I do, a lot! We went through a lot to find each other again," you smile kindly, patient. "But it's a different kind of love, just like how it is a different kind of happy with him."

His lips jut out, wondering about things not so completely disconnected from his first questions. He then sighs as if he's carrying the weight of the world, "If you had to find each other again, it means one of you left. Why did one of you leave if you love each other, then?"

Why?

"Well, you see, maybe..." there's no answer pouring from your lips, but emotions threaten to spill from your eyes and then down your cheeks. The child won't understand your tears, though, so you think of familiar faces and the one you entwined your fingers with, like home. You keep your head held high. "Maybe it's so that we could find each other again in a time where we would be better versions of ourselves."

It's not enough to sate his curious mind. "But if he's almost always never here, how are you supposed to know if he's the love you're supposed to have, then?"

"The love I'm meant to find has always been here, within me," you say genuinely, and the child, ever so confused but curious, remains silent to understand. You shake your head a bit, "but with him, this love grows bigger and bigger, and it helps us cross any kind of distance between us."

Finally satisfied, he stops asking questions at the sight of his most favorite place, muttering incomprehensible gibberish as he tugs you closer to the entrance. Then you think of how happy you are to be standing under this sky, above this ground — you think of the butterfly effect, all the little moments and major events, and everything that passed and will forever remain remembered. You think of all that lead you to this.

You look at the reflection of yourself from the glass walls of the candy shop, and you couldn't help a smile. The look in your eyes screams dreamy as you push open the door. This is it — you're on the way to loving yourself.

Welcome home.

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selenitawars · 4 years ago

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Pressentimento

Never Be The Same - Part 7.

Pairing: Sam x Daughter!Reader, Dean x Niece!Reader, Castiel x Platonic!Reader.

Summary: To save Dean’s life, Sam changes a big part of his past, hoping that he’d only forget memories with his college girlfriend. But, not only he changes his life, he also creates a new one.

Word Count: 2332.

Warnings: None.

A/N: Yes, I’m back after over a year and a half. I know I’m a dumbass for making y’all wait for so long, but, honestly, I want this to be a fun writing, so I try not to pressure myself. Won’t make promises. Either way, always love to know your opinions. Hope you enjoy this comeback haha!

Pressentimento masculine noun 1. act of feeling in advance, more through emotion than reason, the occurrence of a future fact; suspicion. "I have a p. that this will not work" 2. knowledge of what will happen, obtained by intuition; forecast, hunch, omen.

You still hadn't explained everything to your father nor your uncle. Cas remembered one of the episodes that occurred with you when you were younger, around ten or so. It was hard for you. Every time you tried to explain yourself, things were hard to explain. All the time, something blocked you from exposing the fear inside you, the fear of letting things out.

The way their "new" memories came to them didn't help. It was so unpredictable. Cas remembered you praying first and then, mixed memories, tiny ones, which made him assume a lot about you already; and worry as well. Dean remembered more, like the time Sam was soulless and you lived with him for months, you concluded he was remembering things by the impact they had in his life. As for Sam, well, apparently things were coming more chronologically for him, but a little late, since he also had a lot of Camila to remember.

You tried to think how to talk to them about your crisis. The big ones. It was so complicated. When it started happening, you had your godmother to help with calming down and understanding how sensible you were; but even Vanessa had to talk with the Winchesters to fully understand what made you so much stronger and sensitive. Anyway, she wouldn't help you now that she was in the list of people to whom you never existed.

Oh, and your mother...

Looking at pictures of her nowadays became an addiction. You couldn't sleep before searching a little more about her, not that you've been having much sleep or any of this helped. You wish so bad you could talk to her. And now that Sam told ya you reminded him so much of Camila, you really studied her, trying to find the resemblance.

How would you tell them there's more? More of you to worry. You wanted to wait for a time when the memories hangovers weren't so heavy on them. They were all trying to act normal, but it was obvious - you've never been at home for this long, they were never so quiet. Dean wasn't even drinking, to make sure he wouldn't be more confused.

You were lying down on your bed, trying to ease the headache. It was normal to have a day just to be tired, but after the all day just resting you still got a headache by night. Went to get a pill to make it better and when you swallow it, you realize something.

"I don't exist." You whisper to yourself.

For the first time in that day, you felt useful. Even with the headache, you got in front of the computer and started to do your thing. For some reason you got happy when you confirmed your theory.

"I was never born."

"You gotta stop thinking about that." Dean warned you.

"No, I mean... I don't exist."

The three men stared at you with confusion, you repeated.

"I don't exist."

Still nothing. The room was filled with silence while you hoped for the clicking in their minds. It never came. You sighed.

"I never existed! Never did anything!"

Sam looked at you like he was starting to worry, while holding a bowl with cereal. Just like Dean, who chewed his, probably thinking you've gone crazy.

"I don't understand why you're so excited saying it." Cas finally said.

"Isn't it obvious?" They once more, didn't react. "There are no records of me, at all. Nobody knows about me. I only left the bunker once."

"What's your point?" Dean asked.

"We should keep it that way."

"What? Why?" The brothers said together.

"Well, if nobody knows I'm here, we're in advantage. It's always good to have a secret backup, right?"

"Like... as a surprise element?" Castiel suggested, you nodded. "Y/N, you don't truly expect us to treat you like a secret weapon..."

"Hell no." Dean agreed.

"It's not like it."

"Well, I don't see your point." You father stated. "I know this seems messed up, but, we can fix it. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried, I'm thinking!" You made them quiet. "C'mon, think with me: I barely left the bunker, how could anyone know about me?"

"We know about you." Dean answered.

"But you've seen me. And your memories, are just yours, this doesn't mean the world knows about me."

"Ok, but you'll need to use an ID sometime. Or will you live forever here, inside the bunker?"

"Dean, you should know it's easier to make a fake ID look real if there isn't a real one to prove the fake one as fake."

Sam took a deep breath.

"Ok, so we leave it as it is. How much long do you think it would last?"

"Not much, I know. But at least, for a while it could be useful."

"I don't see how, Y/N. I'm not using you as my secret-spy-soldier or whatever."

"Sam is right. It's not worth it."

"Castiel?" You looked at him, only to find the agreeing look. You looked down.

"Look, how can you be sure nobody else remembers you?" The angel tried to clear your mind.

"For most people I know, I never happened. And the others, will probably only remember me when they see me, if they do. Until then..."

"That's not right." Sam interrupted. "I had this feeling about you, before we arrived on that day; like I left something behind, but I couldn't remember why."

"So did I."

"I got one your prayers for not getting news from us." You stood there, silent.

"That's it? A feeling you forgot something?!" You left for your bedroom, a little ofended they didn't listen to you. Your idea was good, logical. You genuinely thought they would see it as a good thing out of all this.

Reflecting on it, you finally notice: you may not know your family as well as before. At first it sounds crazy, but this is all crazy, ain't it? And after doing their exercise for a couple hours, thinking about your childhood, the events that crossed it and when it all began, you got yourself some questions.

You fell asleep while still thinking, trying to find logic somewhere and always getting to the same point, a lost point. Somehow while sleeping, you had no dreams, didn't wake up once; not even the fact that you were with a jacket bothered you.

"Hey, man. You good?" Dean noticed Sam squeeze his eyes.

"Yep. Just those flashbacks. I hate to have them by day, but I can't sleep no longer."

"Like a constant hangover, thank God it's not a heavy one." Sam did not answer. "Sam?"

"Right..." Sam stared at the floor, seeing stuff in his mind. He blinked multiple times after a little.

"You all right? You seem shocked. What did you remember?"

"It's just... Y/N's suggestion."

"Dude, that was today."

"Very funny!" Dean smiled a little to ease his brother. "It got me thinking. Why would she want that?"

"Honestly," Castiel entered suddenly. "I think she is trying to get something good out of this."

"Good? I see her point, but..."

"Not good." Cas interrupted, correcting himself. "Useful, at least."

"It's not as useful as she thinks." Dean says as if it's obvious.

"It's the only thing she has to offer." Castiel putted it in a weird way, but made sense. They silented for an instant. "Still, how does that has to do with your flashback, Sam?"

"I thought that maybe I should listen to her. Maybe there was a point."

"You, Sammy, considered the possibility of being saved by her?"

"Obviously not. I wondered: what if her non-existence helped her get away from this craziness. Like, she could get to any school if we put some effort."

"You concluded it fast." Cas commented.

"Well, yeah. Then I... questioned." Sam felt the gazes at him. "How did she get dragged into hunting in the first place? Why did I not stop it? And one more thing popped up: why did I leave college?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Dean couldn't understand his brother.

"Dean, if it wasn't for my anger towards Jessica's death, who knows..." He explained. "So why I left Stanford, making Camila stay behind and after weeks drop out too?"

Castiel took a seat.

"Why did you?"

Sam opened the door, showly. You were in your bed, far from his atmosphere, enjoying a rest you needed. He passed the door carefully, took a look at your room and turned the lights off. Ever since that hunt days ago, when he saw you sleep at the motel bed while he was reading about the case, the day he woke up before you and as you slept in the car coming back home, Sam felt peace as he watched you.

It was the moment he could breath easily and a little relaxed. You were resting, next to him, nothing could hurt you in your sleep. There, you were safe and wasn't leaving soon. So he couldn't help watch you once more; just stood by the door for a couple seconds, smiled at the taught of you having a break from this madness for some hours. Grabbed the door and heard your move, turning to check if he had woken ya.

"Sorry."

"Don't be." Your voice sounded lazy. "I have a light sleep."

"So do I." You nodded. You knew it. He regrets commenting it.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep."

"No, tell me." He understood you couldn't sleep anymore.

"You don't want to talk now."

"It's about earlier, I know." You said while rubbing your eyes. "Just spit it." He gave in and sat in your chair.

"Why do you wanna do it?"

"Why don't you?"

"Why would I?"

"You've always wanted this." He gulped.

"What? No!"

"You never wanted me to be in risk, you hated the fact I made you all vulnerable, now nobody knows I'm here. I know this isn't permanent and things can change, but for now, you could finally be at peace. Nobody knows me, none of you have to worry."

Samuel digested everything you said and got his answer prepared fastly enough.

"For a long time I asked myself if Jessica never died, would I be here? And you know, as things turned out to be, as I found out more and more throughout the years I got the answer." He paused. "I would. Because if it wasn't Jess, it would be Dean or dad, or a friend."

"What do you mean?"

"I left college for revenge." You got surprised. "It wasn't Jess. Not anymore." That sounded weird. "I made a choice and I know now that somehow, at some point, no matter how many times... I would make that choice again. As soon as somebody I care about got in danger. So I left college. For you."

Sam got back from his first hunt after two years. Camila was waiting. They talked and she was serious when she told him to call Dean. Leave as soon as he could. She said she had a bad feeling, he had to find his father. Was something repentine, fast and clear - the fear in her voice stopped Sam from questioning.

"The way she talked to me... her eyes, getting sudden tears. At first I tried to calm her, jokes on me, I blamed her hormones. Camila proved me wrong. I knew she had that sometimes, like with tests or bad decisions, maybe something simple like knowing staying in was better than going to a party. She was always right. If not totally right, fast enough to avoid regret." He looked down as her voice came to his head and repeated her words. "'This is your family we're talking about, Samuel! Your child's grandfather.' She screamed. I was scared." You two laughed a little. "She begged. Aggressively. But, I didn't leave because she did."

"Why then?"

"I called Dean to get back there and pick me up because once we talked, I got that bad feeling too. And was suddenly afraid. Afraid something would happen to either of you." You stayed silent. "I hoped things would be more simple, soon I'd be back and things would go back to normal. You would be born and grow up, normal. We would be a family..."

"Please, don't say normal." He smiled.

"Your mother's bad feeling... I don't know what is was about exactly. She got scared too in that moment and it was the only time I saw her that scared. But I know that mine became true. Only, it was even worse. There was no blame. Of all things that happened in those months, how worried I was with my father, you, Camila and even Dean... The hunts, the confusion and overwhelming information all at once. The fear. Your mother's death was the most sudden and painful." You saw a tear run down his cheek, followed by a couple more. Sam had more to say but you spoke before, in the heat of the moment.

"She knew." He looked back at you, now with red eyes. "I think she knew something bad was going to happen."

"She knew we would be in danger." By we, he meant himself, his uncle and your grandpa.

"No. Not that. She knew that something terrible was happening already and would get worse. But she didn't tell you to go to stop it." His tears froze, lost in your words. "Like you said. Camila was always right about this bad feelings. She was certain." You were sure thanks to your own experience with it.

"About Dean needing me more than her?" You denied.

"About you needing the rest of your family once I was born."

#sam x daughter!reader #dean x niece!reader #castiel x platonic!reader #sam x daughter au #dean x niece au #castiel x platonic au #dad!sam winchester #uncle!dean winchester #uncle!castiel #winchester!reader #winchester!daughter #sam winchester x daughter!reader #dean winchester x niece!reader #supernatural imagine #supernatural au

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sukirichi · 3 years ago

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— LOVE LETTER FROM ANON ; 💌

this is from an ask i received. i copy pasted and replied here as a text post since i can’t put “read more” on anon asks and it’s quite long hehehe. to the anon who sent me this, i give you loads of my love, thank you so much for everything !!

[ the ask ]

hi lovely,

i just read earned it and i have a couple things i’d like to say to you if you don’t mind. before i start, i completely understand if you don’t want to share this ask or even read at all which is fair. but if you do decide to read it, i know that one person such as me cannot change the decisions a writer had made such as discontinuing a series but i hope that this allows you some sense of peace or happiness towards your creation and end of earned it. i’m actually writing this is my notes before i send it to you so that’s how you know i truly mean it. buckle up baby!

i’d like to start with this; i just read and finished all the remaining chapters of earned it. i don’t know how to say this without sounding arrogant or cocky which truly isn’t my intention here, i promise so i’ll just say it as is. i swear to ever loving god, i’ve scoured the entirety of tumblr, ao3, fanfiction.net, wattpad, everything and anything, and it still isn’t very often that i find works like these, far and few between dare i say. ive looked through almost everything i could get my hands on to read in the jjk fandom and dear god, do you manage to keep on surprising me. i’ve read majority if not all your works along with following you on ao3 and tumblr, and i must say. i truly am so fucking impressed. completely and absolutely fucking floored if you will. the amount of plot twists and pure emotion you managed to put into this is only something i can dream of ever creating.

i cannot lie, it truly my hearts to think that people gave you so much shit over this to which ended in you deciding to discontinue along with your lack of interest which at least, is understandable unlike the hate. i literally cannot comprehend how people would be unhappy with the outcome so far after reading it since it was beyond fucking magnificent in my eyes. it kept me on my toes the entire time whilst never managing to bore me once and as someone with adhd, thats fucking hard to do, i’ll admit it. props to you. and as much as i want to grovel and beg for crumbs, something, anything to know about how it ends, i know that that will most likely accomplish nothing to both you and i so decided to just say this.

thank you for writing this. thank you for not only writing it but dealing with the experience of unwanted and negative criticism to the point you had to stop and discontinue it whilst also being generous and amazing enough to keep it up so other people could still read it. i really hope your proud of earned it and how it turned out so far, because if i were you, i’d be so bloody fucking proud i wouldn’t know what to do with myself.

my friends often tell me i overstep my boundaries and i really hope i aren’t doing that with this but i just really, truly, wanted to express my genuine appreciation and thanks towards your writing and towards you as a writer that puts out content, not to mention for free!!!!, for people like me. i also don’t want to seem as if i’m glorifying earned above all your other works, because that’s not what i mean. your writing is just… just fucking chefs kiss. sorry, my brains starting to run out of words at this point but oh my god. thank you for letting me experience the experience of earned it even though there was no proper end. i’d rather have that than nothing at all. and maybe i misread this entire thing, maybe you are goddamn proud of your work, which you fuckinf should be considering the pure quality it is. once again, chefs kiss!!

i just… i don’t know what to say anymore. your writing, quite literally, has made me completely fucking breathless in a good way of course. anyways, i hope this wasn’t too much of a ramble and at least managed to make you smile or something. have a lovely day sweetheart!!!! <333 :*)

OMG ANON PLS FORGIVE ME IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME DAYS TO RESPOND TO, I DIDN’T WANT TO GIVE YOU A HALF ASSED RESPONSE SO I WAITED TO GET MY MENTAL ENERGY BACK TO A HUNDRED PERCENT SO I CAN SEND BACK MORE LOVE TO YOU WHOLEHEARTEDLY !! FIRST OF ALL UHM…

you really made me speechless with this one, you have no idea. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve reread this and teared up a little bit because you know… I’m so shocked like I really have no idea what I did to receive such a sweet message because I’m just writing silly fanfics when I’m feeling it yknow? Or at least that’s what it seems like because it turns out I have a huge impact on others and I’m able to make people happy like I’ll never EVER get used to that feeling and I mean that in a good way !! Like I’m in a constant state of disbelief that people are this affected by my content and I’m just…

I’m so thankful truly PLEASE can I give you a hug I’m so happy sobs sobs sobs

also baby, thank you sm for this again AAAAHH. I’m not sure if you really mean ‘Earned It’ the mafia! gojo series or ‘Reckless’ the CEO gojo series though ?? Both are discontinued but Earned It was discontinued bcos my dumbass killed Naoya there and he was my favorite so I lost the motivation and it was all my fault SOBBSSS. as for Reckless though, yeah I’d say it was mostly the hate I got for it that demotivated me into continuing it :// but if this ask is meant for Earned It, then yes thank you so much for the kind words as well, though I didn’t really receive hate for it so no worries !!

and aaah anon im…I’m at a loss for words lmao but the part where you said where you would be proud if you wrote it, that’s really…LIKE IDK it just hit me bcos oftentimes I look at something I poured my heart into, but then I’d have days where I’d be like YIKES that wasn’t a good one. its so easy to forget the effort we put into something when we’re affected by external factors. and yeah even though I really don’t want to continue either series anymore, thank you for leaving me the important note of being proud of myself <33

although the series (earned it) wasn’t really something I’d properly executed and planned for, I do remember being passionate over it and feeling truly excited to update. even if it didn’t end out the way I wanted it to, it’s still something I poured my heart on and that’s magnificent on its own, so I’ll be prouder of myself from now on <33

no worries bb you are not overstepping any boundaries at all !! believe me when I say this ask truly do means a lot to me – more than you’ll ever know. messages like these are what keeps me going, as feedback is important to writers, but most of all it’s the genuine support and sincerity that gets to me.

I’m truly humbled and grateful right now. thank you for this again and again and again.

THIS MADE ME MORE THAN SMILE !! there’s a lot of things I’m struggling with even if I don’t publicly express it, but messages like these will always have a special place in my heart. I’m sincerely grateful for everything, and I’ll continue writing here and sharing my works!! It’s supportive people like you that make these moments worthwhile. I’ll never forget this message anon AAAAH I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU THANK YOU YOU HAVE AN EVEN BETTER DAY OR NIGHT, you have me weak in the knees for this

OKAY BRB SOBBING IN HAPPINESS

#asks with naoya's trophy wife #suki: for keeps #uwu anon

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tomboyneedshercoffee · 5 years ago

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Thin Ice Pt4 || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Peter spend some alone time and secrets get revealed.

Word Count: 3.4k

Author’s note: This is literally the fastest I’ve ever uploaded but you guys gave me so much support from the last chapter and honestly it made my day. Thank you guys for being so sweet!!!

Warnings: Mild swearing

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || to be continued

For the past day, your friends and the rest of the decathlon team were stuck indoors waiting out the blizzard that was supposedly coming your way. However, by some miracle, the resort wasn’t hit too badly and your itinerary had only been pushed back a day.

Everyone was excited to go skiing more but you had other thoughts on your mind. You weren’t sure what to do about Brad and better yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about Peter. You only got a couple of glances at him between meals and even then, it was like he was avoiding your gaze.

You wondered if Brad had told Peter that you had kissed and the thought alone made you mad all over again.

“ You okay Y/N?” Betty asked as you looked down at your plastic fork that was bent from how hard you were gripping it.

You nodded and inhaled deeply as you put the fork down and started to eat your waffles with your spoon,” I’m really tired. I just want to go back to bed.”

From your dining booth, you could look directly at Peter, eating away with Ned without a care in the world. You watched as Peter laughed so hard, he held his sides in pain.

Before Peter could catch your gaze, you turned your attention back to your friends and crossed your arms.

“ You’ve been sleeping for most of the trip. Ever since that night the boys came over you’ve just been in bed. You even missed the huskies that they brought to the lobby!” Cindy said as she felt your forehead,” are you sick? I have dayquil in my bag.”

You swatted her hand away and looked down at your half-finished breakfast,” I’m fine. You guys should just go on ahead and ski without me. I’m not really up for it.��

MJ eyed you suspiciously as Betty and Cindy continued to interrogate you.

“ But you love snowboarding! What’s up with you cause something is obviously bothering you,” Cindy sighed as she put her hand on your shoulder,” is this about Brad?”

You put your hoodie over your head and rested your head against the table,”Can we please never say that dude’s name again.”

MJ shook her head and brought out her phone from under the table. Unlike her friends, MJ quickly put the pieces together and came to the conclusion that you needed something to cheer you up. She went to her messages and sent a text to Peter.

MJ: Something is up with Y/N & it has something to do with brad - u gotta get her out of the hotel room before she throws herself off the side of the mountain

MJ sent the message and looked over at Peter’s table, waiting for him to get the message. Peter’s phone buzzed and when he went to check, his face dropped and he looked over in your direction.

Peter: what did he do to her??? Did her hurt her???

Peter: I’ve never seen her like this before

Peter: what if she doesn’t want to hang out with me :(

MJ rolled her eyes and typed out vigorously.

MJ: This is ur chance to get alone time with her dumbass! Think of something NOW!

Peter: okokok but what about ned? I can’t leave him alone

MJ: we’ll hang out with him - I’m sure betty wants some action with ned too

Peter put his phone down and looked over in your table’s direction. He watched as Betty poked the side of your head but you didn’t even flinch.

After you went into the bathroom with Brad alone, Peter thought his chances of winning you over would be finished. That whole night Peter tossed and turned in his bed as he thought of what you two could’ve been doing in there yet at the same time, he tried to get those thoughts out of his mind completely.

Even though the thoughts pained him, Peter wanted to find out what happened that night and why you were so upset about it. It made him feel a tad bit better cause you feeling so bummed meant that maybe nothing happened between you and Brad but at the same time, what if Brad did something to you that made you feel this way?

The thought only made Peter fume silently as he told Ned everything that was going on. Once Ned hesitantly agreed, Peter shot another text to MJ and told her he had a plan.

MJ looked down at her phone and got up from the booth,” I think we should head out now. You sure you don’t wanna come Y/N?”

You raised your head from off the table and nodded,” I’ll be fine. I’ll catch you guys for lunch.”

You didn’t bother saying goodbye as you shuffled out of the booth and made your way to the elevators. As you got into the elevator and pushed your floor number, you leaned against the corner and closed your eyes.

There was so much on your mind and it kept eating away at you. After a lifetime of being friends, Brad sabotaged it and threw all of those great memories away over a stupid kiss. You felt guilty too because maybe you egged him on in a way and that you should’ve told him not to kiss you at all instead of falling for a “cheek kiss.”

As the elevator doors closed, Peter slipped through at the last second and you opened your eyes.

“Oh hey, Peter!” You said as you stood up straighter,” I thought you left with everyone else.”

Peter’s heart was racing as he pushed his brown curls off of his forehead,” Y-yeah about that...I was wondering if you wanted to hang out today?”

Your heart skipped a beat and deep down, you knew you had too much going on in your head right now. At the same time, you didn’t mind spending more time with him and you could use a distraction.

“ Sure, I would love to,” You finally said as Peter smiled nervously,” what did you have in mind?”

“ There’s this terrain park at the top of the mountain and I thought it would be cool watching people do tricks and stuff,” Peter said as the elevator stopped at your floor,” we would need to take the ski lift up there if that’s okay.”

Peter followed you out of the elevator as you nodded happily,” Yeah, that sounds like fun. I’ll go get ready but I’ll meet you in the lobby in like...thirty minutes?”

Peter looked down at his phone to check the time and smiled,” Great. I’ll see you soon then.”

As you both parted ways, Peter walked slowly to his room so he could make sure you got to your hotel room safely. Once you got into your room, Peter raced to his room on the opposite side so he could get dressed.

After you got ready, you practically rushed to the lobby to find Peter nervously tapping his fingers against his thigh. When he saw you, he did a double-take before standing up.

“ Ready?” Peter asked as you nodded.

The two of you walked side by side out of the lobby and through the shops as you both talked about the trip. While the two of you were talking, your phone buzzed and you casually pulled it out to check to see who it was.

Brad: We need to talk

“ Have I ever told you that I really like your phone case?” Peter said as he pointed towards it.

You turned off your phone and stuffed it into your pocket,” Are you making fun of me for liking Spiderman?”

Peter shook his head and laughed. It was really strange to see merch of himself out there and he never really knew of the impact he had on people until little kids started dressing up as Spiderman for Halloween.

He felt like a celebrity but the closest comparison he could think of was Hannah Montana.

“ No I’m not. I’m just surprised you don’t have a Captain America one or an Iron Man on it instead.”

You and Peter both made it to the line for the ski-lift and while Peter was excited to get some alone time with you, he was nervous that he would ruin things.

“ Puh-lease. Spiderman is by far the most superior avenger. I used to have a poster hung up in my room but my brother told me it was creepy so I took it down...I understand though. I guess it just reminds my brother of too much.”

“ What do you mean?” Peter asked as the line moved up.

“ I don’t really tell people this,” You sighed but figured why not,” but a couple of months ago, my brother and his girlfriend were walking home from the movies and these guys pulled a gun on them. They tried to rob them and they even beat my brother in front of his girlfriend. He thought they were going to kill him but Spiderman came and saved them. He’s thankful for being saved but I don’t think he ever got over how scary it all was.”

Peter felt his heart sink to his chest. He remembered that night vividly because of how hard the girlfriend was crying. He always thought it would get easier and that maybe he would get desensitized over time but he remembered every encounter like it was his last.

“ I’m sorry... I didn’t know he was your brother,” Peter said as he quickly caught his mistake,” I mean I-I remember hearing about it somehow...but that sounds terrible. Is he doing okay now?”

You shrugged and let out a puff of air,” He seems fine. I think he’s so stressed about his first year of college that he doesn’t really think about it anymore. It shook me up too. I was never really afraid of crime and all that but I guess when you live in New York, you’re always paranoid about when the next attack will be.”

You watched Peter’s solemn expression and you nudged him lightly,” I didn’t mean to bring down the mood. I just wanted to defend myself on why I love Spiderman so much. I just wish I could thank him, you know, for everything.”

Even though you weren’t looking at Peter, he still smiled towards you.

“ I think he knows. Trust me.”

Once it was your turn to go on the lift, you and Peter walked over and waited for the seat to come from behind. You both sat down as you moved the bar down to rest against your laps.

As it brought you further and further into the air, you noticed Peter gripping the bar.

“ Are you afraid of heights Pete?” You teased as Peter shook his head.

“ I’ve just never been on a ski lift before. I mean, on the bunny slope sure but it was way smaller. This isn’t even that sturdy,” Peter said as he shook the bar softly, causing the lift to creak,” fuck we are really high up.”

You looked around and you couldn’t help but smile. You loved seeing the whole mountain in fresh powder as Snowboarders glided down effortlessly below you. You felt like you were in your element and even though your cheeks were already rosy from the cold, you felt like you could stay up here forever.

“ It’s been a while since I’ve seen you smile like that,” Peter said as he tried his best to ignore the height,” it’s nice.”

For a moment, you had forgotten about all the problems that were lurking in your head and it was all thanks to Peter. You loved how easy carrying a conversation was with him and you would’ve never told anyone about what happened with your brother but something about Peter just made you instantly warm up to him.

You exhaled deeply as you leaned back in your seat,” I’ve just been going through a rough patch that’s all.”

Peter moved his legs up and down before turning back to you nervously,” Did Brad do something? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to but I’m here for you if you want to talk.”

You wanted to tell Peter everything but you couldn’t do that without getting your feelings revealed. Not only that but if Peter did like you and he found out Brad had kissed you, it would change things and you liked the way things were.

“ Brad and I have just been friends for so long, you know? When you’ve known someone ever since you were in diapers, you start to let things slide. Maybe that’s why I always make excuses for him and his behavior sometimes,” you sighed as you turned to Peter,” you know, you sometimes remind me of him.”

Peter was quick with a comment as he shifted in his seat carefully,” Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

You playfully rolled your eyes as you tilted your head to the side to get a better look at Peter,” Well maybe what Brad used to be. On mother’s day, he always takes my mom out to brunch because my brother and I can never wake up early. I see that in you, you do things out of the kindness of your heart and you always do what’s right no matter what. You’ve been through a lot these past couple of years and you haven’t let it corrupt you or your heart.”

Peter shrugged as he tried to cover up his blush,” You got all of that from just a couple of days?”

“ I know we weren’t close before the trip Pete but I’m not blind. You’re literally the most selfless person I know,” you took a beat and decided to test the waters,” That’s why all the girls like you so much.”

Peter could feel his ears and neck flush as he laughed nervously before sighing quietly,” Girls don’t like guys like me.”

I like you.

“ That’s not true and you know it. What about Liz and MJ? Plus I heard Vanessa and her friends in gym think you’re hot. You’re funny, super smart, kind, and cute; you’re the whole package. Any girl would be lucky enough to be with you.”

You didn’t know it, but Peter could sense how fast your heart was beating and even though you tried to hide it, your voice trembled.

Peter shifted in his seat yet again but this time, his body leaned closer to yours,“ I guess I don’t care about all those girls...There’s only one girl that’s been on my mind.”

You could feel yourself turn into putty and your heart was racing like never before. You couldn’t believe what was happening and you didn’t even bother to hide the blush that was creeping onto your face.

You studied his face carefully and for a moment, it was like time had stopped just for the two of you. A rush of adrenaline pumped through your veins as you rested your hand on his thigh before pressing your lips against his.

Once your lips touched, Peter didn’t hesitate and immediately kissed you back. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that Peter had never felt before.

Your heart fluttered inside your chest before pulling away.

“ Just to make sure, I’m the girl that’s been on your mind right?” You teased Peter bit his lip and nodded.

“ Yes Y/N and I’ll prove it to you,” Peter pulled you closer to him as he kissed you again, smiling against your lips.

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

“ Thanks again for today, I liked spending time with you,” You smiled sweetly as you and Peter walked hand in hand back to your hotel rooms.

“ Me too but I’m just glad you had a great time. I know you’ve had a lot on your mind lately. You know I’m here if you need anything,” Peter said as you both stopped in front of your room.

You looked at Peter one last time before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. You squeezed his hand before sliding in your room key.

“ I’ll see you later?”

Peter hummed a quick mhm and once you closed the door, Peter made a triumphant fist in the air.

You pressed your back against the hotel door and squealed happily like a schoolgirl. You took off your coat and hung it up as MJ looked up from her book.

“ I’ve never said this to anyone but wow you’re actually glowing,” MJ grinned as she patted a spot beside her.

You weren’t planning on telling MJ what went down but you felt like you would burst if you had to keep it in any longer. You told her everything from what happened in the elevator all the way until he walked you to the room.

MJ listened patiently and after you had finished your story, Cindy stepped out of the bathroom.

“ Hey Cindy, you’ll never guess what happened!” You beamed as you sat up from the bed.

Your face dropped when you saw that Cindy’s face was less than excited.

“ What’s wrong?”

Cindy let in a sharp breath as she held up her phone,” I think you need to see this.”

You and MJ shared a look before you got up from your seat and came over to Cindy. She hesitated before opening up her most recent message from Brad.

Your heart plummeted straight into your stomach as you reached for the phone slowly in disbelief.

It was a picture of you and Brad kissing in the bathroom and from the angle, it looked like you were actually kissing Brad back. That’s why he wanted you to close your eyes, he was setting up the camera.

“ You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you whispered as you felt tears welt up in your eyes. Your mind immediately thought of Peter and you started to feel dizzy,” please tell me that he only sent it to you.”

MJ got up from her spot on the bed and shook her head,” That fucking prick...Y/N...he sent it to the decathlon group chat.”

@spaghetittiesbcimgay @holland-in-disguise @yeahimcrying @greatpizzascissorstaco @mysticalbanshee @weyheyavengers @infinityflamesworld @fandom-fangirl22 @peterparkoure @crumpets-are-better-with-jam @marvel4geeks @sad-sagita @juliebean247 @quitepointless @bannanasz @spideyyeet

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zirkkun · 4 years ago

Text

I can't sleep so I'm gonna ramble for a minute here about. uh. 2020 i guess lol everyone else is so might as well jump on the bandwagon.

Be aware this is really really fucking long so it's a commitment to read it lmao sorry i just cannot sleep and i guess i had more on my mind about this year than i thought. I also did not proofread this at all. I just started writing and didn't look back lol

This year was... Weird for me. It started out with me feeling my best in January, comfortable and positive as I did my nth playthrough of DBH with friends and finally having enough alts of my boy Alfonse in FEH to have a team of Just him to fight with. (Priorities, right?) February hit, and things were still going good. I met Ray Chase and had him sign a print I did of Roy and Alfonse in some casual outfits for a scrapped au I wrote years ago. (And I gave him one 😊). Hell, like, covid was just coming around when me and my friends went to the con that weekend and a breakout of it hit the city just south of where the con was like a week before, but I was genuinely so excited for it that like I was like "Yeah, if i die, i die. Whatever happens happens." God, at this point, the Alfonse gc I was in was still alive and I still didn't talk to anyone in the group outside of that gc. Lowkey miss it tbh. But oh well. Things move on.

But that con was like... Stressful. I usually have fair amounts of stress at cons, being around so many people, I fear theft, unwanted contact, y'know, the standard; but my friend group was so filled with tension that it was absolutely painful. We'd been split most of the weekend, and if the two groups came together, it was hell, because it just caused unwanted arguments. I felt really bad cause I didn't want them to be upset, yknow? But i also wanted to hang out with my friends all at once. So i swapped between the groups a bit over the weekend. And blew WAY more money than I should have and lowkey it kind of fucked me over for the rest of the year cause I haven't had a job all year outside of, like, a local church job that pays at a rare max of $100 a month ;w;

I'd been struggling in school the previous semester already, about halfway through having just stopped going to classes altogether, yet still somehow managed to pass everything with B's and A's. The next semester rolled around, and I thought at first the distraction and inability to do anything was because of the con, and as it persisted after, I thought it was just post-con depression. But, as it turned out, no, it's just been my biggest relapse of depression since the end of high school, and frankly, it's only gotten worse since. I can't sleep rn because I'm between not wanting to do anything because I have a lack of emotions and motivation and not feeling deserving of sleep lol. I checked out of school on February 28th, however, I was convinced I was merely demotivated by my surroundings -- at this point, I was studying Japanese, and one of my friends at the time was a (although probably unintentionally) complete braggart about how much he was studying and how he was improving... not to mention he was textbook example of "This is an Actual Weeaboo, don't Fucking Do this." (One of many reasons i said friend at the time lol) it was just... So draining being around him, and I had to see him in class every day of the week. I barely scraped together assignments last-minute and never studied under the idea of "What does it matter if I'm not putting in my 100%?" So I checked out, with plans of transferring for the following semester.

Well, then March hit. Y'all know how March went down lmao.

I pretty much locked myself in my room at all times during March, going between Animal Crossing and BOTW (which actually racked up like 200ish hours i think according to the nintendo year in review i had lmao). I started making a bit closer online friends at this point, notably @levitumbling who decided to take me in as his channel designer for YouTube and I've been ever since! But. Of course. My first task? A Sans meme. My payment? One Switch copy of Undertale because he considered it a disgrace that I'd never played the game before.

Now, let me tell you. I was fuckin scared to play this game. I held onto it for weeks between the fear of "My friend bought me this and i should play this" and "I told myself I'd never touch this game with a 20 mile pole because of how much it's been shoved down my throat over the years." So, one day, I don't remember when, early April, I said, fuck it, I'll play it for a little bit, just enough to say "hey i played it for a bit!" and then never go back.

The only thing that stopped me from beating the whole thing in one sitting was it was the crack of dawn when I passed out, extremely tired and extremely frustrated by the fact I couldn't beat Muffet. Yes, I got that far in one sitting I intended to play for 15 minutes tops.

Now. Let me fuckin tell you. About my first playthrough of Undertale. I haven't gone into a game knowing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING about it like... I think ever. Usually I know what style of game it is, the genre, the main plot premise. I knew nothing other than the existence of Sans (and, as it turned out, I'd heard some of the soundtrack pieces before, notably Bonetrousle I heard this cover of it in a radio livestream a while back and never really looked it up, but was always excited when the radio looped back around to it being on; and I'd heard Dating Start! because that's Alpharad's go-to sponsorship ost lmao.) But anyway. I was completely in the dark. Do yall mind if i just go through some highlights of my favorite memories? This is supposed to be a summary of the year but I mean, I think this made a big enough impact on me to really like. Discuss it a bit.

I watched the whole opening cutscene, started a new game under my old screenname, "Yoru," since in naming the "Fallen Child," I assumed they were dead. Well, I was a little surprised to just be that child, alive, two seconds later, but whatever, I rolled with it.

I genuinely trusted Flowey right away. Like no shit. He told me run into the "friendliness pellets" and I didn't even fucking question it. And when Toriel came in? And she said to follow her? I straight up was like "Why the hell should I trust you?? That guy just tried to kill me what says you wont?" I followed only because the game made me but i was Wary the whole time. It took me a LONG time to warm up to Toriel.

Now. Let me tell you how stupid I am as well. The game says over and over right, "Don't fight. Spare. Have Mercy when names are Yellow." Well, I took this literally. I didn't understand the Act mechanic most of the time, and when something didn't work I just said, fuck it, and fought them. If their name didn't turn yellow, I just fought them. "They don't want Mercy if their name isn't yellow, right?" After a while, I'd started getting bored of fighting and would just run away, but like, I came to a point where I was like "I have a really low level, I'm really going to regret this later on if I don't grind for a while."

I don't know when I stopped but. I think I was only one or two kills away from a genocide run accidentally my first playthrough, based on how I think I was LV 3 and looking at genocide playthroughs, you're LV 3 or 4 when you fight Toriel. Like. Holy fuck. I can't imagine what I would have thought of this game if that happened lmao.

Speaking of Toriel, still didn't trust her, at all. When we got to Home, and after I did Every Single different phrase she says when you go downstairs before you talk to her reading about snails; I did not Hesitate to ask "cool uh when the fuck can I leave?" When we got to the Ruins exit I was like, ah, here it is. The betrayal from her I was expecting, where she tries to kill me. Well, nothing on the Act menu worked, right? So... I fought and killed her. I didn't really care, actually. I just kept going.

Then meeting Sans and Papyrus happened. I lost my fucking shit at this part, mostly when they were talking, because every time Sans made a pun it would zoom in on him and do a rimshot. The puns were not funny and I was definitely on Pap's side of "oh my GOD shut up." But that fucking zoom in and rimshot was just so fourth wall breaking and unexpected. Fuck, it still gets me. Anyway. Game continues. I again lose my shit at (insane spinning in random directions) "OH MY GOD! IS THAT A HUMAN?" "uh, i think that's a rock." "OH. WAIT! WHAT'S THAT IN FRONT OF THE ROCK?? (IS IT A HUMAN??)" "(yes.)" "OH MY GOD!!!" and still think these two moments in the game are Peak comedy. Oh, and let me tell you, I did not like either of these two at this point. Sans I was like, okay, hes kind of a dumbass in a funny way, but Papyrus is a dumbass in a way that just annoys me. Genuinely the archetype that misses social cues and therefore has miscommunication usually just annoys me to no end. (Mostly for the miscommunication. It's my least favorite trope and makes me unreasonably angry.) But yeah. Wasn't really a fan. But out of everyone so far? Definitely found Sans to be the most tolerable. But that's about all I thought of him lmao.

Getting to Snowdin, with the Papyrus battle, remember how I said I didn't like Papyrus? And yes, this was something I genuinely thought at one point, I genuinely hated Papyrus, imagine that. What a wild world that is. But anyway. You know how his Act menu has the "Flirt" option? I, for no reason, gunned it for the Flirt option, even though I did not want to. Then when he was like "WE'LL GO ON A DATE! LATER!!" i was like yea sure okay lmao. Again, couldn't figure out the Act menu to turn his name yellow, so I fought him, and he was one or two attacks from dying (miraculously) when he ended the battle. I spared him here cause, well, he spared me, it was only fair. Then this guy again is like "ILL BE AT MY HOUSE WHEN YOU WANT TO GO ON THAT DATE!" and i was like haha funny but still turned around to go on the date. Like why? I have no idea. I think I was more like "haha hes probably not gonna be there and its just cause i picked that option and lo and behold there was an actual fucking date. Oh my god. I have never in my life been on a video game date where one party was convinced I was infatuated with them and im here on the other side of the screen like "oh my god make this end i can't stand being around you.???" But still. The date was. Really fucking funny. I wish I could experience it for the first time again like holy shit. There are few playthroughs I did after this where I didn't go on the Pap date, even if I just spedrun through it.

So then you get to Waterfall and Sans is there like "hey wanna go to grillbys" and i was like sure why not so we go there and my choices were fries & ketchup (so i did not get the legendary scene where he chugged a bottle of ketchup, but i sure did my second playthrough, and let me tell you, i was disgusted). But like. This whole experience at grillby's like, the whoopee cushion, him using a comb on his bald ass skull, him just fuckin unapologetically scratching his ass for no reason?? Bro i was like "why the fuck is this guy part of the Tumblr Sexymen™ group ??? He's so ????? Gross???????" and like i still have this question tbh lmao. But like. Okay so he asks you "what do you think of my bro?" And my genuine answer was "uncool" and he was like "hey man sarcasm isnt funny" and can i just mention how like inheritly manipulative sans actually is like fuck he does things like this where he throws your answer the other way a few times and Every time it actually swayed me the other way. Because right here I went. "Oh. Maybe Papyrus is better than I thought." Like holy fuck maybe i should be more aware if something like that can sway my opinion so easily LMAO.

Anyway waterfall i genuinely was very bored of the whole time. I spent like a genuine 20 minutes figuring out the puzzle where you have to talk to a wall and I actually didn't realize you could move the telescope around. What helped me solve it is my friend's advice before I played it. "Inspect everything. Even talk to walls. Trust me." And literally thats how I solved it. But pretty much everything in Waterfall otherwise bored me. I did think it was pretty though, and did enjoy reading the lore, but when it started talking about monster biology my one fear had been realized: oh god, oh fuck. My original species for my own series also has physical Souls and die by turning to dust because they're made entirely of magic. God fuck. My luck, it has to be something popular, so now everyone's gonna think I'm a ripoff. But, at the same time, I do think it helped me understand monster biology (and it helped me come up with the ULR biology) better, because I've put in a lot of thought to existence of a species that exists only by magic and a Soul (which, mine only actually have half a Soul, as a full Soul makes a being immortal, which was also similar to the boss monsters in a way). It definitely made a lot more sense for like, the skeletons n stuff for me, because like my characters are wholly shapeshifters but usually take human form, and while they have "organs" in the places humans would have them, they don't operate. They're just placeholders, because they just live with their Soul. So I've always thought the same with UT monsters, since the skelebros can live without organs, that means so do the rest of the monsters, even if they have animal-like appearances.

Off topic lmao. Back to UT. So, the Undyne fight was kind of the turning point for me. She was pissing me off so much during this whole game and like I was like "if theres another fucking part where I have to run away from her im going to scream." Well, once again, her name wasn't yellow, so I wasn't going to spare her... and, actively, I made the decision to kill her, because I didn't want to deal with her still chasing me later on in the game. It took me a long time to beat her, and when I did, I texted my friend (@cheshiregrinnbuttoneyes ) in excitment like "YES I FINALLY KILLED UNDYNE" and she texted back like "YOU DID WHAT?????" and i was like "i.... Killed Undyne????" she replies, "YOU DONT HAVE TO OMFG WHY" and im like "I DIDN'T HAVE TO?? THERE'S OTHER OPTIONS?????" and shes like "YES OMFG THAT'S LITERALLY THE PREMISE OF THE GAME" and im "WHAT."

So then. I get that call from Papyrus like. "HEY! YOU ME AND UNDYNE SHOULD HANG OUT SOMETIME!"

oh my god the guilt i felt.

alphys on undernet being like "omfg i forgot to watch undyne fight the human. ah ill ask her about it later she never loses <3"

bro. i nearly fuckin cried. i was like. Not to mention I'd gotten the crush question right for Mettaton's quiz in answering Undyne (bc i was like "plz be gay plz be gay") so it fucking cut like a knife what I'd done.

I don't remember when I let myself get passed it. But I do know that the whole story arc between Alphys and Mettaton went way over my head. Like, i know im probs the minority on this, but I adore Alphys, I have since I first met her in game, and like, when Mettaton was like "ALPHYS HAS BEEN LYING TO YOU!" i just went "...nah."

Also, I didnt like mettaton at this point, cause I thought he was being really obnoxious, and then the turn around to betray Alphys really kinda pissed me off.

But like.

Oh my god.

Remember how I said I swapped my opinion on Pap earlier bc of Sans's comment? Yeah that was a pretty fast turnaround, but it still took me a few times.

But the second i saw mettaton ex

I was like

"HIM. HE. HE'S THE ONE I LOVE."

Like, full turnaround from Undyne, I actively refused to kill him. All times I thought he was an asshole? Forgotten. Me thinking he's a selfish prick? Gone. Nada. Nothing. Pure adoration. Suddenly every flaw he had was pushed aside purely from how hot I thought he was. Also, fuckin, im really glad i played this when no one in my house was awake, because I still didn't understand the Act mechanic here, and every time you attack mettaton he has this like moan he does and im like oh my god. stop. omfg.

At the end, too, when there was the calls and everything, when he had his big turnaround, I was just so happy for him I genuinely cried. Also, I had to do his battle probably the most out of everyone's in the game (not including genocide), so when it came around to his battle during the (glitchless) speedruns i did, i was more invested in how fast I could rack up points, cause you need 10k rating points to pass, and I actually did get that before he lost his legs, but apparently he needed to lose those too before you passed lol. Unfortunate.

Anyway after Alphys talked to you and everything, i genuinely went to see if Mettaton was still there, but he wasn't :( so i just went to New Home. I was very ill prepared for the fight against Asgore and the only reason I struggled with it so much was because my only healing items were like. Something that healed like 10 or 12 hp and the snowman piece. I was LV 9 when i finished the game, so like, my HP was pretty high, but i didnt have the G to buy items, so i was pretty much fucked. Yes. I had to eat the snowman to win.

Oh speaking of terrifying shit though. Photoshop flowey? My god. I haven't been afraid of a video game boss so much since I was a little kid. It was like 3 am and i was not prepared for him to just delete my save file and then kill me on repeat, glitching and breaking everything as he pleased. Bruh i was genuinely scared. Like, not even just, "oh yikes :(" or something. Like, crying scared. Lmao im an emotional bitch by nature.

I of course had to restart from the beginning again to get the True Pacifist ending. I was very careful to never touch the Fight button literally ever. And, it actually took me a while to reset, because I hate erasing my original save files, yknow? But, well, as it turned out? While technically New Game+ by naming, resetting doesn't erase everything you did. It wasn't a new file. I was a little confused at first to be honest. Toriel saying things were familiar, remembering things I said, Papyrus and Undyne both recognizing me, like. It was unnerving.

When I got to the end, i had to look up how to get Alphys's date (since my friend told me the way to unlock TP was to go on all the dates, but Alphys's was definitely designed in mind of you turning around from New Home and going back to talk to people rather than a new reset. So after unlocking it, getting through Alphys's date (i still remember being like, verbally, "omg alphys you look so nice??" When she came out with the dress on and then had a thought to myself like... since when do i care about what people look like? since when do i compliment people? At that point, while I didn't consider myself to be a rude person, I definitely wasn't exactly all that concerned about others for anything. Sure, I cared about others' lives, but I tended to be a bit more judgemental internally, and just. Didn't really give a fuck about what people did in the most negative sense possible, unless it involved me. Yet, it rolled off my tongue like it was something id say normally to anyone. I really wonder if this is the true turning point for me this year.)

Getting to the end, with everyone cheering me on. Hoo boy. This was the start of many tears to come. Papyrus's "DO WHAT I WOULD DO! BELIEVE IN YOU!!" sticks with me the most. I wasn't surprised by Flowey's actions, but what fucking threw me for a loop was like. When Flowey was revealed as Asriel, I was genuinely jaw-drop shocked. I was like. Holy fuck. I thought he was dead. What the hell. To this day, though, i still think Hopes and Dreams hits me the hardest out of all the boss battle themes. It doesn't super bother me, bc like, difference in opinion is whatever, but like. Whenever I see Megalovania at the top of someone's ost list for Undertale I'm just... Why? Maybe it's because I'd overheard it meme'd to much before I played the game, but like, i dunno, it's not a bad song, but it's not the most emotional provoking piece for me, so it's pretty far down my list. Hopes and Dreams will still remain my #1.

I really did feel determined during this battle. I really felt a lot of emotion. I felt excited. I felt frightened. I felt ambitious. Asriel's battle is probably still the hardest for me, and yes, I'm counting genocide this time. I can't grasp his magic patterns at all, and I more so played it as a "okay, how much damage can i take? Whats his next move?" As i healed every other turn. It took me a very long time to beat him (though no 11 hours like Sans, this was more like, 2 or 3 max) and when I got to the part with the Lost Souls, most of the characters just said their "we hate you" piece and i was like "nope you're controlled" right.

But then there's Sans's "just give up. i did."

I genuinely had to stop. I set down my controller and just sat for a minute. I'd mentioned before how much I've been struggling with depression for years now, and it's at the worst it's been since high school. Maybe you'd think when I saw that, I was like "sure, maybe I should give up." But... It's really the "i did." that hit me like a rock to the stomach. While I do know a couple other people with depression, the most discussion we have with it is "haha i wanna die" kinda jokes yknow? Nothing really serious. And, well, I've always been the type to lean to fictional characters for support more than real people, since I've just been so disconnected from a lot of friends growing up and was too scared to talk about anything with my family.

So seeing someone else say "just give up. i did." hit me so fucking hard that I just started crying. I had already been in a real sappy mood cause the whole scene was so emotional as it was, even if merely the cliche of friendship will save all, y'know what? Its a good ass fuckin trope and makes me emotional lmao.

So, naturally, I was more hyperaware of Sans's implied depression from here onward. The conversations with everyone post-battle left me crying. God, so did the hug with Asriel. I was just fucking bawling.

Oh god. I didn't even mention. "Despite everything, it's still you." Another line that just hit me and I had to pause.

So admist my crying mess, I was telling my friend I'd beat Undertale again. He asks me "so... you gonna play the genocide route?" And I already had from the beginning. I always want to play every available route in a game. I see no point in paying for something and then not playing it all. I'd consider myself a completionist who doesn't ever actually finish anything lmao.

I definitely put my emotions aside for genocide. The absolute hardest kill for me was Papyrus, though. And i was absolutely fucking heartbroken when he said he still believed me as his last words. But I forced it aside. I didn't want to reset. I wanted to beat it to have it under my belt that I had. I was pretty sure the Sans battle would be here, since I hadn't heard Megalovania in the game yet, and I was aware of how hard the battle was, despite never seeing it.

Undyne's battle I'm more emotional about in retrospect than I was at the time. At the time, I didn't care, didn't like the theme much, and the dings gave me a headache. Undyne isn't exactly my favorite character (though definitely not my least favorite, that role is given to Frisk with Toriel not close behind ahdhsb im sorry), so I really wasn't concerned about it. Not to mention, I don't know why, but all of the battles I struggled with EXCEPT Undyne's I ended up liking the character more as a result. Maybe it was the dinging lmao.

Bro you shoulda seen how prepared I was for Mettaton NEO's battle to be hard as fuck. I was like sitting upright, took deep breaths before hitting fight, then when he died in one shot i just kind of "wh...what." Still very disappointed lol but I guess that's kind of the point of the genocide route.

Then came the Sans fight. As I said, I spent 11 hours on this. I genuinely didn't pay attention to what he said after a while, but I do remember the first time I read it, I was fucking terrified. Usually, sarcasm, hatred, and sass is very hard to convey through pure text, especially when it's said in the same tone as his usual talking. But the absolute harshness, the coldness, and the lack of any fucks given Sans had at that point was so plainly transparent through everything he said that it fucking scared me. Toby Fox's writing here was fantastic. I can only dream of being able to write like that. Frankly, I love his writing in general. Actually, fuck it, I love all of the artistic takes of this game. This is gonna sound weird but... The "childishness" of it just is so good. Like, there's no rules. Every socially accepted rule of art, writing, character design, speech patterns, and even basic grammar are thrown aside. He didn't just think outside of the box, there literally was no box. I call it childish only because like, children also create with no rules. They have no rules to restrict their creativity. And seeing that embraced in Undertale in every form possible just blows me away.

Anyway. The battle. It. Was hard. Thats a given. I spent about two weeks playing it on and off, and it's probably the most healthily I've treated myself in recent memory, because when it became too much for me to handle, I set it down and took a break. I would retain what I memorized and use it for the next time I picked it up. Frankly, it came to a point where every time I opened up Undertale to play, it was more just cause I wanted to see him lmao. The guy hated my existence at this point and it's not like i disacknowledged that. But it just felt like every time i opened the game... Idk. I don't know what I felt. I can tell you for sure this isn't the time when Sans started slipping into my favorite character spot over Mettaton, that didn't come until the development of Act to Flirt's first demo, which was a month or so later lmao.

I was very excited when I beat Sans.

But then, after it was over, I felt very empty.

I didn't feel good about beating genocide. I still don't. I want to play the boss battles again, cause they were really fun, despite how hard they were, but I can't bring myself to.

When I got to Chara, and everything went to black, I just wiped my save and started fresh. I think this was the first time I used the name "Willo" for anything. I just picked a random name to use, and Willo was the first thing that came to mind.

I beat neutral again many times, trying to unlock as many secrets as I could. I accidentally spent like, way too long trying to get Sans's room, because I couldn't figure out how to do it... which is when I started speedrunning the game, because I was just so used to going through it all. I timed myself once, and I got somewhere around 1:20:00 ish, which puts me at the very bottom of the NG+ Glitchless runs by like 30 minutes, but hey, it's still not too bad all things considered.

I'd started working on Act to Flirt sometime in between the speedruns. I was playing Papyrus's date again, and I had this thought of. What if Undertale... but all boss fights are instead like Papyrus's date?? I pitched the idea to my friend who was like "thats definitely been done before lol" and immediately I almost shut down the idea. But then I still had that glimmer of hope that, maybe, since I haven't made it yet, people would like my game because it was by me. Besides, quarantine was getting to me. I needed some way to spend my time. So on May 6th to May 7th, I spent the whole 24 hour period making the first proof of concept for the game, which was UI setup and Flowey's tutorial date. I hadn't made any of the art yet, so it was a black background with Flowey's undertale sprite. I originally was going to make everything more visual novel like in the sense that, so like on Papyrus's date, you could make choices like "unwrap the present" "dont unwrap the present" or "you look great" "you look terrible" and getting the ending would involve pretty much just saying the right things at the right times. But this alone was... Yknow, already done before, and part of what makes Undertale so great is that it's, despite its many outside influences, very unique in its gameplay. So I decided to make the dates more like puzzle-solving RPG's, and frankly, since doing that, I dont know if I want to go back to making other visual novels lmao.

After making the first demo and releasing it, I hit a creative funk. I wanted to make the next demo right away, but I forced myself to stop (since i was working 16+ hour days to finish it in exactly a week. I didn't eat much and i slept very little during this time too. Dont do this lmao). I didn't know if the game would be received, and frankly, I'd had many failed projects in the past due to lack of support. I lost a lot of support in the past due to the dropped projects I kept starting and quitting because I had such a small audience, and that made me lose a lot of interest and motivation to work on them. So I posted the first demo and waited. I was very shocked to have a YouTuber with over a million subs play it that weekend. Dantekris I think was her channel name. She speaks Russian, and I never understood a word she said, but I've still watched her let's plays because I enjoy seeing her reactions. I hate that YouTube keeps deleting my responses on her videos, probably because they're long and in English so it's marked as spam on a comments section full of purely Russian comments yknow. But it makes me feel like such an ass ;w;

Mairusu is the next large YouTuber who played it and my god I love seeing when he uploads a new update for my game because I genuinely have no idea what to expect from him. I don't know what it is but he's just so absolutely funny to me. He also seems to be the most common breaker of my game though. Stop making your own bugs!! I try to testplay to find the bugs he gets and it's like.... what did you do.... how did you skip that whole date im so confused thats not supposed to happen..... He accidentally skipped all of Muffet's date because of this too and hers is supposed to be the hardest in the game right now so I'm very upset by it;; i dont know how it happened, it never happens for me.

But like. I was definitely struggling a bit with the direction I wanted to take AtF. I wanted there to be a core message, like with Undertale and many other of my favorite things. When there's a core theme to write about, it makes things a lot easier to compose than if you have a plot with no meaning to it. It ties it all together for a common purpose. But, as I started diving more into the fandom around this time, finding not only it being still alive but still enormous and filled with passion.

Passion. Hm. That's familiar. That's the trait I gave the player character, rather than determination. While it was intended for giggles "haha dating game u have passion wink wonk," it started becoming more than that. It started becoming a manifestation of what I really felt upon finally soaking myself into the deep end of this pool I'd once been too afraid to step into. Passion. Everyone here is so driven by their passion for this game, the characters, its story. Everyone is so inspired and creative. That's it. That's what I wanted Act to Flirt to be.

A game made for those who have already dived deep into Undertale. A game made for those who have the same level if passion I've wittnessed. A game that someone might stumble upon, merely wanting any Undertale content they can find, and a dating sim leaves them grasping at straws, only to find it's a game instead deeply rooted in how much they care about this world and its people. You have a Soul of Passion, because your passion for Undertale brought you to this game. That's what the core message is. Every ending is supposed to depict different kinds of empathy, and True Passion shows you truly cared the most you could for all of these characters. Sans is so blocked from it because, well, how can he really believe it? "if we're really friends, you won't come back," right? But here you are. Again and again.

And Heartbreak. Whose heart is really the one breaking here? Taking the Hopes and Dreams of every single character you've grown to care for and crushing it beneath your feet... who is the one suffering in the end?

I just... I'm very excited. I've written that game with the player as the main character. Not Willo. Not Frisk. Not anybody else. You, the player, are the main character. I've honestly done a lot of looking around in the DDLC code to make this game as 4th wall breaking as I can (without like. Disrupting it as a game experience like ddlc is, with monika deleting things and stuff). Just enough to leave the player unsettled and confused. Like. "Me? Are you talking to me?" Yes. You. Directly to you.

I started sketching out designs and ideas for ULR around July. I genuinely loved Underlust after finding out about it, even though it was posed to me as an insult about the contents of Act to Flirt. I was both like "uh... Act to Flirt is nothing like this. Maybe in reversed roles at best but..." and also "okay but this? This shit is good. Thank you." But finding out it was discontinued and wanting more, well, that's when I decided to make ULR. I presented the idea to my friends, who were like "please stop making aus," and then continued onward. I told myself I wasn't going to work on it though until after I finished Act to Flirt... Then after the next demo came out... Then it turned out I was working on it too much and it resulted in me rushing my release of the 3rd demo of AtF because I'd been so distracted I was going to miss my release deadline of the end of August, before school. I... Still kinda regret that a lot. It's still very buggy. Though I hope I got them all for the next demo...

But speaking of school .... ha... Remember when i said i was going to transfer to another school? Well, I did, and for the first few weeks it was fine! Then I started skipping assignments I didn't want to do. Then I started panicking about my low grades. Then I started getting behind on assignments. Then I stopped going to classes. Then I lost all motivation to work on anything at all. I just locked myself in my room and did next to nothing with the occasional drawing here and there, for weeks. It came to the point where I was like "I just have to get through this semester, then I'll drop out." But if I ever wanted to go back to school, having all F's on my last report card would not bode well for my acceptance. Which lead to more stress. I didn't want to fail, but I also didn't have any motivation to work. I would do one assignment here or there, feel good about myself, then realize I was still months behind on work and suddenly oh god oh fuck finals are next week. And my solution? I just. Fuckin dropped out. Oh my god. It was such a relief to just get that weight off my shoulders that I'd been carrying for months on end, preventing me to do anything I wanted to work on.

Well. Then my car tires died. So that's a thing. But good news! Between commissions and gifts, I have enough money to get them replaced! I don't think I've ever like... Been so excited about that before.

And, well. Now I'm here, pretty much. God, I just went through my entire year summary, and it feels like it was both forever long but also not long at all. I don't get it. 2021 still feels like a far off future, despite the fact I'm now 5 hours into it. Yes, I spent 4 hours writing this. Whoops. Oh well. I couldn't sleep anyway, so it's not that big of a deal.

All in all though... Despite being locked inside, away from my friends, unable to talk to anyone about the things i was enjoying, and living in fear of getting sick at all ever with anything, 2020 definitely fuckin changed me for the better. It was a hellhole of a year and I'd never do it again or wish it upon my worst enemy, but I came out a better person... I think. I hope.

It seems cliche to bring back but fuck it. Undertale? My friend insists its core message was that anyone can be a good person if they just try, which I mean, it definitely probably was intended that way. But that never was the message I felt while playing it.

What lesson I took from it was "things aren't always as they seem."

Flowey betrays you immediately, but then you find out he's just the remnants of a boy who died years ago and is still grieving over the loss of his best friend, whomst, despite how much he cares for them, recognizes they weren't good to him and he'd been manipulated and used by them.

Toriel is a kind and caring woman, a still grieving mother over the loss of her children, who seems to have kindness to no end, but is actually filled with such hatred and depression that she regularly gets drunk, swears, and still, without resilience, hates her ex husband.

Sans is a playful character who is full of puns, a gross atmosphere, and decided to break physics just because he can. He's the embodiment of a comic relief character. But at the same time, he's suffering, struggling, in constant pain and worry. He's lazy, but quick on his feet. He's harmless but will kill without hesitation if need be. He's both caring and the least caring of them all.

Papyrus is like... a self-centered asshole in a way, when you first meet him. He prides himself and everything he does. Yet still, he's actually quite open and accepting and loves everyone. He loves talking with and being with other people, even if maybe sometimes he has a different interpretation of social interaction from the "norm."

Undyne comes off as cruel and deadly, such even being emphasized in many points. But, deep down, she's extremely caring for those who are close to her, and her only cruelty is dealt to those who have wronged her in some way.

Alphys is a sweet and nervous wreck who comes off as helpful and lacking a filter due to her tendency to ramble. She seems to be merely anxious due to likely social anxiety... But you eventually find out that she's a liar who merely wants to create a world to be a better place, and by doing so, she pretends all the bads do not exist.

Mettaton comes off as an absolute self-centered asshole. Like. There's no way around that. He seemingly has no regard for other people with only full intentions of helping himself. But, deep down, he actually cares a lot for other people, especially his family and friends, and just tends to get caught up in things while he's in the moment.

Muffet seems to be greedy with how much money she begs people to give her for the spiders, but, as it turns out, she's flat broke and drops no G when you beat or kill her. She merely needs the money to help the spiders.

Asgore, too, is built up to be this ruthless killer throughout the whole game, and when you finally meet him, he's an incredibly sweet guy who's only filled with regret, and because of his past decisions, has decided to put aside his hopes for the sake of his people.

I...

Didn't see any of these characters for who they really were right away. Why would I? Few of these archetypes are explored much in a lot of fiction lately, or at least what I've been consuming; and is more focused around how someone can change their flaws into something positive... Not how to accept someone for who they are, despite the wrongs they may have committed or the lives they lead. Everyone's different. Everyone's grown up differently. Everyone has a reason for what they do.

And it took me playing this game to realize such a simple concept that I probably should have learned years ago.

That's why I really think 2020 changed me for the better. I made a realization that I should have had many years ago, and it's made me a lot more confident in expressing myself, accepting people for what they do, and seeing the brighter side to everything. I say that, sitting here filled with nothing and void of all emotion whatsoever... But it's a conscious thought i have. My emotions are so weird... They're either on full blast or I feel nothing at all. But yet I have... Thoughts of what i should feel? It's weird. Idk. This is why I'm getting therapy LMAO

But yea. 2020? Fuck you. But also thank you. But mostly fuck you and good riddance lmao

#zircon rambles #a lot #lol #its very long im sorry #i spent way too long writing this too #also please don't reblog this

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joshslater · 5 years ago

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Pink Drink Twink

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“Compliments from the gentleman in the corner” said the bartender as he placed the girliest of cocktails in front of me. A martini glass with a pinkish liquid, and a bright neon pink cherry on a stem in the middle. I looked up at Matt, who faced the right direction and saw his quizzical look turn into disgust. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s that fucking leather fag again. He’s still trying to score, even after what you told him” To say I rejected him was an understatement. Luckily freedom of speech trumps hate crime laws. Matt was just about to pour out the drink on the floor, when I stopped him.

“Hey, he’s not the one who has to clean it up.” Matt held the glass still for a few moments before setting it down next to our beers. “It’s harassment, that’s what it fucking is.” “Good luck convincing someone that handing out cocktails is harassing someone. In fact...” I said, picking out the cherry, dumping it in one empty beer glass, then pouring the liquid into another “...it is now acceptable free booze.” “Well, I’m not touching it.” “You are not pretty enough to have burly men buying you drinks.” “Thank fuck for that.”

It didn’t taste that special. Sweet raspberry with too low ABV to be interesting. But easily flushed down with another beer before we split. Matt had work in the morning, the plight of manual labor, but I had all weekend off. Despite our different trajectories after we graduated, we still enjoyed each other’s company. He was a dumbass, but made friends instantly with everyone, and I made heavy use of his truck.

It was such a surprise to wake up early Saturday morning. Sure, we didn’t drink heavily, but I was normally tapping my way through snoozes in my phone’s alarm. Now I woke up earlier than that, without even setting one. I could only pretend to be annoyed though, because I felt better than in weeks. Fully rested and full of energy. I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, so I got up and got dressed. I made a mental note to be more consistent with my gym times. I looked much leaner than I recalled, but then those things hava a tendency to sneak up on you until you realize something needs to be done. Then I went to the mirror.

The pink hair is the most striking, of course, but to me the eyes are what makes the most impact. I have trouble comprehending what I see. Reflected back I see a version of myself that has been altered in far too many ways to count. It isn’t the brown-eyed, black-haired, chiseled ex-lacrosse player I was used to see, but someone with much more boyish features. My jawline is still pretty much there, but my nose is very different from what it used to be, and my eyes are greyish-blue with a sort of surprised or naive expression. What the fuck happened?

I let my fingers run through my pink tinged hair. It felt silky smooth, like I was an obsessive user of conditioner. It must be the pink cocktail. That’s the only thing out of the ordinary I could think of. What about Matt? I rushed to the phone and picked him from the phone history. It felt like an eternity as signal after signal went by.

“It’s Matt” “Thank fuck Matt, have you...” I stopped myself. I didn’t sound anything like I would usually sound like. I sounded like a teenager again. “Jeremy, is that you?” “Yeah. Is everything... normal?” “I would say so, yes. You sound really weird.” “I think I got something. Talk to you later.”

So some disgusting leather homo tries to pick me up at a bar. I turn him down. He hands me a potion or something that turns me into what exactly? What is his end game? It’s not like I would have sex with him, or any guy, just because I look like I’m in a boy band.

I’m confident I��m not just suddenly realizing I’m slimmer, but that too is due to the potion. I decide to not just chill all day as planned, but to go to the gym and see what the damage is. I figure I can wear a beanie to avoid looking like a weirdo.

Cardio is going great. I feel the positive energy from waking up pulsing through the body, and I’m going faster and for longer than I normally do on the treadmill. It’s like I woke up fully charged for the first time in months. As I move over to weights it turns sour quickly. I’m so much lower in weight than I normally do that it isn’t funny. I can barely do a few reps on what I would typically do 10-15 reps on. I drop to a lower weight, but now I’m tired instead and can barely do a few on the lower weight. I move between exercises, and it’s the same again and again. What’s worse is I’m getting an erection, perhaps from all the straining. It has never happened before. I give up on the set and head towards the locker room. I decided against taking a shower, not only because of my boner, but I realize I would have to take off my beanie. Instead I jog back home, which is feeling surprisingly good, all things considered.

Once back home go straight to the shower, rip off my gym clothes and throw them in a heap. I step into the shower and almost turn on the water before remembering to take off the beanie. I throw it on top of the pile, and let the water start running on my damp skin. Damn it feels good. It’s like everything is more sensitive today. My hard-on, that never really went away during the jog, perks up. I take plenty of soap and spend a good thirty minutes having the best wank in weeks, and end up pumping out liquid as if I was a soap dispenser myself. I’m so deep in trouble.

I’m struck by post wank clarity. All of this, even though parts of it is really fucking good, is because of that frilly drink. I must find that creep and confront him as soon as possible. Unfortunately it’s not even lunch yet, and there isn’t even a guarantee he would be at the bar tonight, or ever again. My plan of chilling and doing nothing for the day turns into anxiously doing nothing. I waste some time on unfocused gaming with terrible results. I’m not hungry, but eat a bowl of yogurt while browsing stuff I can’t remember 30 seconds later. Everything is just unbearable, so I put on my damp gym clothes again and leave for a run.

I’ve never been a big fan of running before. If this is another change forced upon me I’m actually kind of OK with it. It feels amazing to just ignore everything that is happening and just run at random. I don’t know for how long, but as I’m getting close to home again I start to sprint. I run as hard as I can, really giving it my all. It’s amazing. I’m soaked in sweat, panting deeply, and again have a throbbing erection. I don’t bother to reflect on any of it. I just pretend that everything is amazing, have an amazing shower with amazing soap and an amazing wank.

As I dry off myself my phone begins to ring. I know right away from the bathroom that it is Matt calling. Long ago I gave him the Nokia ringtone on my iPhone, which at some point was hilarious.

“Hi Matt” I shock myself with my voice. It has shifted even more since this morning, and now sounds like an obnoxious brat. “Hey, I just came off. Are you OK? You still sound different.” “I’m not really feeling like myself. It’s probably best if I stay in tonight.” “OK. I have some Netflix to catch up on. Get well. Target at ten tomorrow?” “Yeah, sure. Bye.”

I walk over to a mirror. I don’t look that different from this morning, do I? What if this wasn’t a change, but a process that has just begun? That I am slowly turning into someone else. Or something else. I look at the time on the phone. Still hours until the bar opened, so plenty of time to go crazy while thinking of this.

We had been at the bar much later yesterday, but I can’t risk missing him if he is early today, and I can’t stand sitting at home anyways. I dress simply, a white T-shirt and skinny jeans, and head over to the bar only half an hour after they opened. The bouncer takes forever to check my ID before letting me in. He is not here, but then so is no one else. Besides me and the staff there are only a handful of people. I tell the bartender that I’m looking for someone and might be here a while, order a diet coke, and grab a table by the wall from which I can see the entrance.

Three hours, two daiquiris and three diet cokes later I’m utterly bored. It’s only a quarter past eight, and so much more evening left, but I feel restless and tired at the same time. We didn’t arrive until well past nine, and the place doesn’t close until two. At what point do I give up?

Just as I’m thinking that I see him. The balding man in his forties, in black leather boots, black jeans and black leather jacket. I don’t like him. It looks so fake, the leather outfit he wears. Like he is pretending to be a gay tough guy from 1980. I quickly empty the last of my drink and start approaching him before he orders anything or grabs a seat. When his gaze catches me moving his way, his face turns smug and confident.

“Hi there, puppy. Looking for daddy” “Make it go back!” “Make what now?” “You did this to me, now undo it.” “I have no idea what you are talking about, puppy, or who you are” “You were hitting on me yesterday” “I hit on a lot of puppies, but I sure would have remembered you.” “You bought me a pink drink.” “You? YOU?! Well, I knew there was something to you. Have you changed your mind?” “What did you put in the drink?” His expression change completely. “I don’t know what you’re raving about. I never touched it. Is this a date rape accusation, because if it is you’ll have to talk to my lawyer. There is video recording in here after all.” “It’s... No, it’s not.” “If you excuse me, I think I’ve had enough of you.”

What did I expect? That he kicked his boot heels together and transformed me back? Did I really not have a better plan? If this really was his doing, he probably would have been prepared for this confrontation. Ready to take advantage of me. But he looked as surprised with my transformation as I was.

I walk back home, feeling dejected, disappointed and lost. What would I do next? Is there anything I can do? Another wank for sure, because I start to get that feeling and my skinny jeans aren’t doing me any favors. With some difficulty I do my best to get out of them as quickly as possible once inside the door. I go straight to my bed, lie down and start jacking off. I’m not even thinking about something in particular. Despite only having had two drinks I’m feeling a bit tipsy, in a good way. Like my body is glowing, and lying on my bed, wearing only a T-shirt and socks, jacking off, is the most amazing thing I could do with my life. It takes like forever until I shoot my load all over the front of my T-shirt, and once I’ve done that I continue to stroke myself until I drift off into sleep.

The Nokia ring tone coming from my front door wakes me up. I’m not tired, but somewhat confused as you are when woken in the wrong part of the sleep cycle, so I’m jumping out of bed almost involuntary. There is an uncomfortable tug as my body shifts and pulls the T-shirt glued by dried cum away from my torso. In the hallway lies a pair of skinny jeans playing the Nokia ringtone. In a pocket somewhere Matt is calling. I feel my way to the phone and answer.

“Hi Matt” My voice hasn’t changed much. I still sound like an arrogant teenager on an online game voice chat. “Hey dude. I’ll be perhaps ten minutes late. See you in half an hour.” “Yeah. No, wait!”

He has already hanged up. As I turn and look into the hallway mirror I’m stunned. The change from yesterday is even greater than from the day before. My hair has turned cotton candy pink and all my facial features have softened even more. I look at least five years younger, and my eyes have turned into proper blue. No one who knew me would recognize me anymore. I wouldn’t. My ID is worthless, and no fake ID would ever get me into a bar. What the fuck is going on. Am I shorter? I think I might actually be shorter than yesterday.

Normally on Sundays Matt and I go grocery shopping at Target in his pickup. I don’t want him to see me like this, but I need someone to help me figure out what is going on. I look at the phone again. I’ve already wasted four minutes. I need to shower and get dressed before he arrives. I rush into the bathroom, undress and get into the shower.

It’s like time stops when I turn on the water. The warm water makes my entire body tingle. My skin looks perfect and glistens wet in the bathroom light. I can’t see a single spot or blemish, though I know I had plenty. Not a single hair, though I most definitely had that before, except for the small, tight bush of cotton candy pink pubes. The sensation is so fucking incredibly amazingly sensual I start rubbing my dick. Not a proper jerk off, just small circles of my palm against my dick. I know I’ve lost even more mass since yesterday, but it looks like I’ve lost body fat too, because you can see a faint washboard. At least there is still some muscle left. As amazing as this feels, I can’t really be upset about any of the changes. Not here and now. I’m aware I’m moaning. I sound like Cindy in pol.sci. first time I fucked her.

The doorbell brings clarity. Matt is here already? I turn off the water and jump out of the shower. While I’m frantically drying myself I look for something to wear. Strewn on the floor are funky gym clothes and a cum-stiff T-shirt. I grab the beach bag from under the sink and put on my swim trunks. The bell again. I rush over to the door and open it.

At the moment I see Matt on the other side I realize it could have been someone else. What a shock that would have been for of us. Now it was just a shock for Matt.

“Holy Shit!” “Yeah. I know...”

The contrast is extra painful seeing Matt in his chill Sunday outfit. Relaxed jeans, navy sweatshirt on his wide upper body, hiding his muscles, but at the same time signaling that they are definitely there. He’s a head taller than me. We used to be the same height, the same build, the same outfit. Holy shit indeed. I stand there with ruffled pink hair, naked except for swim trunks that barely hides a raging hard-on. He looks bewildered.

“Matt, you must help me.”

He doesn’t answer, but I can see his bulge grow in his jeans. For the first time since I can’t remember how long I feel vulnerable. I’m literally exposed, one piece of clothing away from naked. He is standing in front of the closed door, the only way out. If he chooses to do something, there is nothing I can do to stop him. He is so much taller than me now, stronger, wider. I know the muscles below that sweatshirt of his. We’ve worked out together, so I’ve seen his chest both doing exercises and later naked in the shower. My arm is moving up his abs to his pecs, under the T-shirt, below his sweatshirt. He is frozen in place as I rub myself against his groin.

“Dude, are you alright?” Matt asks me, and I realize what I’m doing. I take a step back. “I can’t help it. Ever since that fucking pink cocktail I’ve been...” I don’t know what to say. What isn’t obvious about my situation is unexplainable. I see Matt struggle with something, before blurting out. “Would you mind continue what you were doing?”

Tentatively I stick my hand under his shirt again and rub against his body. “But... Do you mind doing it?” he asks. I don’t, I realize. But do I mind that I don’t mind? This must be part of the transformation that is happening. But Matt isn’t any random person. “Not with you, I don’t.” “Thank fuck for that.” He says and looks relieved. “Why?” “I... Sooo last Friday I might have put something in your beer that might have something to do with this...” “YOU FUCKING WHAT?” I don’t know what shocks me most, Matt’s betrayal or that he was able to pull off something like this at all. “It sounded like a good prank. A few drops and you would act all... different.” “Why the fuck would you want that?” His eyes starts tearing up and his voice is almost a whisper. “Because I like you. A lot.”

I’m still standing with my hand against his chest and have no clue what to do next. Fucking dumbass Matt admitted to ruin my life, outed himself as gay and professed his love for me in like 5 seconds. At least I think that’s what just happened. I slowly shift into a hug, and he hugs me back. I’m angry, I feel pity, but most of all I’m still horny. Damn all this.

Suddenly Matt breaks free. “I’ll drink it too!” “What? No! Look at me.” “It’s only fair.”

I’m quickly weighing my options, and come to a decision.

“No. You did this, so I decide what is fair. You do whatever I tell you to do. You show up when I tell you to. And we’ll have sex in whatever way I tell you to.” ��Wah... We’ll...” “You heard me. I’ve been so fucking horny all weekend from those ‘few drops’ I don’t care what I fuck anymore. I want you naked in my bed within 30 seconds” “It was more of a dash than drops.” “25 seconds”

353 notes · View notes

toutallyahoe · 5 years ago

Text

Flirt 3 ~ Shinsō Hitoshi (BNHA)

Requested By: --

A/N: remember that time i said that FLIRT's chapter was only supposed be around 800 to 1500 words? yeah, good times...

THIS HAS FUCKING 4800 WORDS YALL ASDFGHJKLL AND I AM CRYING HELP

there was only supposed to be three parts but the gremlin's in my mind decided to add the "text" part and had to adjust my fucking plan on this chapter asdfghjkl

thi is like, the longest chapter-- SO FAR-- that i written and asdfghjkl *sobs*

anyways, there is so much had happened here and im dying

Flirt | Flirt 2 | Flirt 3

─────────────────

[Name] let out a loud groan leaving his lips as he dramatically slumped on his chair. A pout formed on his lips as he elicited another loud groan. The [Hair color] haired male did not spare mind to the curious glances he recieved from his curious classmates who still stayed in their classroom for a lunch break. The [Hair color] haired male had his usual mood simmer downed than his most commonly known to be energetic and all over the place self. But right now, [Name] does not have the energy to goof off nor interact with other people as he was still reeling in from what happened days ago on that friendly outing he took Hitoshi to that cat cafe, CC Cafe.

[Name] slammed his head down on his table which caused a loud bang from the contact of his forehead to the table's surface. The [Hair color] haired male's classmates spared him another curious and worrying glances as they never usually in these type of situations of [Name] being like this. Being an overdramatic gloomy dumbass.

"Wahhh! Aki-chan, Haru-chan!!! He just says 'whatever'!" [Name] said as he raised his head up from the table and looked at the direction of two of his classmates that he was more close than the others in the room. There was a large red imprint on the [Skin color] part of his forehead from slamming his head but [Name] was too thick skulled to feel the light stinging sensation of the bruise.

"Whatever! Whatever-- Aki-chan! Haru-chan!!! " [Name] comically sobbed as he then wailed on how cold Hitoshi was. The [Hair color] haired male putting emphasis on the word 'whatever' as the red haired student named Aki Akaha who could careless from his [Hair color] haired friend's usual bullshit, rolled his eyes at the [Hair color] haired male's dramatic tendencies.

"And why am I being subjected into hearing this?" Aki had asked as he crossed his arms over his chest when he heard the [Hair color] haired male let out a cry of shock with his words.

"U-um, come one Aki-kun!" The brown haired male with sandy blond tips that he bleached a year ago, Haru Shirohana, awkwardly butted in as he patted the [Hair color] haired male's back who was sobbing on Aki being like a certain indigo haired student who was three classrooms away from them. Cold and uncaring.

Aki knew why [Name] was consoling to him on his failed confession to this 'mysterious person' [Name] was always gushing about. It was probably the fact that Aki was only the very few to see [Name] was a human like them and not a person with this shiny pedestal that everyone should bow down. To make it blunt, Aki Akaha does not take [Name]'s bullshit seriously like others do.

Haru Shirohana on the other hand felt pity for the [Hair color] haired male. [Name] was someone who always wore his heart on his sleeves. He was very passionate guy and from all the past conversations [Name] had to him and Aki, it was safe to say that [Name] liked this 'mysterious person' he tends to gush about. Honestly, Haru always remembered how [Name]'s [Eye color] eyes just sparkle on talking this person to them even though [Name] never had mentioned who this student was. Although Haru didn't have to be smart to guess that it was probably that brainwashing guy three classrooms away from them. [Name] wasn't that slick as he think he was... unfortunately...

"Aki-kun!!! I thought you were my friend!" [Name] cried as he looked at the red haired male with a baffled expression on his face. [Name]'s cries snapped Haru out from his thoughts as he let out an awkward laugh at both his friends.

"Now, come on guy--"

"Key word, thought," Aki retorted. The red head snorted when he saw the offended look the [Hair color] haired male sent to him.

"Aki-kun!!!" Haru called out to the red haired male who gave him a glance. Aki saw the frown that the brown haired male with sandy blond tips disappointing gaze at him. With a sigh, Aki rolled his eyes again as he uncrossed his arms.

"Alright, fine," Aki grunted. "Oi, [Name] dumbass."

The said male let out a sniff as he pouted at his red haired friend's nickname. Aki rolled his eyes again when he heard [Name] muttered a 'meanie' to him. Honestly, the [Hair color] haired male was like a five years old with his 'insults'... if you can call those insults ajyways with how childish it sounds. The red haired male can only clicked his tongue in annoyance at [Name]'s tendecies to be a little brat.

"About your... delima," Aki started as he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes again. "Can it be that you are not trying hard enough?"

Haru let out a hum of agreement with what Aki had just said as he turned to look at [Name]. The brown haired male with sandy blond tips immediately sweatdropped when he saw [Name]'s glare directed at the red haired male for a second but it immediately disappeared as it came which almost made Haru thought he imagined things if he wasn't close to [Name] to know how the male usually acts. [Name] glared, Haru can say that for sure but the [Hair color] haired male then came back to his usual, normal self... sort off...

[Name] pouted at Aki's words. The [Hair color] haired male dramatically threw himself to his table and let out a wail. "But Aki-kun!" The [Hair color] haired whined. "I literally said I like him! I even brought him to this new cat cafe!" He cried. [Name], in fact, did. He took Hitoshi out and paid for everything.

"I paid for everything!" [Name] cried as he then sulked on his chair. Sending the red haired a small pout. "I mean, isn't that what dating is? Go out and eat?" [Name] then childsihly pippeed and Aki had to stop himself from facepalming so hard from the [Hair color] haired male's words. Haru on the other hand looked at the [Hair color] haired male incredulously.

"Um... [Name]-kun..." Haru awkwardly started but was cut off by the red haired male who was so tired already with the [Hair color] haired male's bullshit..

"Tell me, [Name]-san," Aki started as he exasperatedly looked at the [Hair color] haired male who perked up when he heard his name. "Did you really ask this "friend" of yours on a date," Aki said as he then frowned. 'No one can be that dumb... right?' The red haired male thoight. "Or did you just asked them in a friendly outing?"

[Name] pondered for a moment as he rubbed his chin, thinking deeply on Aki's words while both Aki and Haru seemed to be more baffled on what he was doing. 'Is he seriously... THINKING IF HE HAD ASKED THEM ON A DATE OR NOT?!?' Aki exasperatedly thought as his fingers twitched. God, he wanted to strangle this [Hair color] haired dumbass so badly. May the deities above give him patience.

Haru seemed to notice how their red haired friend wanted to strangle the [Hair color] haired male and immediately jumped besides Aki and grabbed the male's shoulder to stop Aki from doing anything to [Name].

"Now, now, Aki-kun!" Haru said in panic as he took a step back away from [Name], dragging the furious red head along with him. "[Name]-kun isn't that stupid!" Haru said. 'Right...?' The brown haired with sandy blond tips thought as he heard the red head he was trying to stop doing anything stupid to [Name] scoffed at his words.

"This dumbass doesn't even know what a date is Haru!" Aki had said as he growled when [Name] said his answer.

"Well... I think I said that he and I should hang out..." The [Hair color] haired male muttered as he then sent his two friends a pout. "But it's still a date right?!? I mean, it was only the two of us and everything!" [Name] had said as he threw his hands in the air in frustration as he made an angry pout. "I like him a lot, so why can't anyone believe me?!?" He cried in despair.

'[Name]... you really are clueless...' Haru had thought as he sighed. Why was he friends with the most well loved and flirty male yet clueless to dating? The brown haired male with sandy blond tips doesn't know. Someone please help him.

"Why... you--!!!" Aki growled as he glared at the [Hair color] haired male who looked confused at them. The red haired male tried to get out of Haru's grip to try and tackle [Name]. God, he wanted to strangle this [Hair color] haired dumbass so much.

"Hey, [Last name]-kun?" The three male's turned to the direction of the call to see their class president by the doorway of their classroom smiling. The said male seemed to brightened when he saw the female as his sulking mood immediately disappeared as the [Hair color] haired male then beamed to her a smile. [Name] stood up from his seat and happily went towards the female who gave him a polite smile. [Name] leaving the two male's confused on the [Hair color] haired male's mood shift.

"Yo, Hana-chan!" [Name] happily greeted as he sling one of his arm on the female's neck and brought her close to him in a side hug. The female let out a soft giggle as a pink hue coating her cheeks. "How is my lovely president doing?" [Name] purred. The [Hair color] haired male seemed to not know how his words can impact someone. Especially his choice of saying 'my' to the female who's blush bloomed to a rich color of red now.

Haru and Aki looked at [Name] as he continued to talk to the female with deadpanned expression on their faces. Aki was now out of Haru's grip since there was no sense to stop the red haired male anymore. As they watched, the two remembered what [Name] had cried to them earlier ago and they figured out the answer why.

"I like him a lot, so why can't anyone believe me?!?"

'Maybe it's because you flirt with everyone...' The two male's simultaneously thought as they continue to watch their friend unconsciously flirt with their class president.

The day already gone as Hitoshi watches in the corner of his purple eyes that his classmates were already leaving out of the room. The indigo haired male let out a sigh as he laid his head on his table, looking at the classroom doors and waited for a certain [Hair color] haired loudmouth to burst in and create a scene. Actually, Hitoshi raised a brow as he raised his head a bit to turn and look at the wall clock hanging on the wall to see it was already ten minutes after dismissals, and there wasn't a certain [Hair color] haired male already inside Hitoshi's classroom and began to pester the indigo haired male.

'Odd... where the hell is he?' Hitoshi had thought as he raised himself and looked around the room. The indigo don't know if he should've been happy or not to not have [Name] yapping his ear off. Usually, the [Hair color] haired male was already here, inside with him even before his teacher gets out as [Name] has the patience of a bratty five year old wanting to go outside and play on a sunny day.

The indigo haired male waited for a bit, thinking [Name] was late, not that it wasn't uncommon occurence anyways since the indigo haired male gladly remembered that outing they had some days ago where [Name] was late. Hitoshi knows that [Name] does have a rather shitty time management skills anyways and he fully knows that well. But after another ten minutes or so of waiting, the indigo haired male frowned on his seat. Hitoshi may have always say that the [Hair color] haired male was annoying as hell all the damn time, but the male was still his friend. His only friend for the matter. And Hitoshi knows that [Name] may be late at times, but Hitoshi also know that [Name] has never been late on picking him up on dismissals.

Sighing, Hitoshi picked up his bag and went out of the room. The indigo haired male's eyebrows furrowed and looked at each side of the hallways to see no sign of his [Hair color] haired friend who usually waited outside his room if the male didn't barged in like a lunatic. With another sigh, the indigo haired male decided to try and find his friend.

"God... where is that idiot," Hitoshi muttered to himself as he trudge along the halls of Nabu Middle School. The indigo haired male did not pay mind to the eyes of some of the students in the hallways followed him. There were chatter but Hitoshi did not pay mind to them, he wasn't one for gossip anyways. Hitoshi hated rumors with a passion, and it made him develope a mindset to never pay attention to those types of gossip. Besides, a lot of those were false anyways. Especially the gossip circulating him being a villain and such. Now, that is a very false gossip and Hitoshi absolutely hated it.

Clicking his tongue, Hitoshi tried to think on where [Name] would be. 'If I were an idiot... where would I be?' The indigo haired male thought as he mused about it. Hitoshi's didn't came up with an answer but the indigo haired male was too tired to care anyways. Hitoshi decided to just walk around aimlessly for a bit, if he doesn't find [Name] in the next couple of minutes, maybe he should just leave. But Hitoshi then thinks that the [Hair color] haired male would immediately bombard him with text messages and probably annoy him when they meet face to face again. Actually, [Name] would definitely annoy him when they meet face to face again.

"Hey, who's that girl with [Last name]-kun in the courtyard?" Hitoshi perked up at the mention of his friend's last name. The indigo haired male stopped and tried to discreetly listened to a few girls that weren't far away from him. 'So he's in the courtyard...' Hitoshi had thought as he listened. The indigo haired male did not know why he didn't just leave already as he found out about the [Hair color] haired male's whereabouts. But for some reason, Hitoshi stayed for a bit, curious about the girl that was with [Name].

"Huh? You don't know? That's Kohaku Hana," Her friend had said in a matter of fact tone. "Kohaku-san is [Last name]-kun's class president," the girl explained as she let out an angry pout. "She's really close to him."

"Oh, is that why they are together right now?" Another one pipe. Her words made the indigo haired male frown. 'Together? Close? What???' Hitoshi thought. 'Wait... why am I listening to this anyways???' The indigo haired male had asked himself. Hitoshi did not like gossip. Period. So why was he listening to this again? 'This'll be just for laughs...' Hitoshi had thought. 'Yeah... this'll be just for shits and giggles.'

"I don't know, maybe Kohaku-san and [Last name]-kun are a couple!"

"Awe, Kohaku-san should feel lucky then!" Third girl had said.

"Yeah, [Last name]-kun is just-- gah! I want to be his girlfriend!" The first girl whined.

"Woah, calm down Aoi-chan! Maybe they aren't!"

"I doubt it, they were pretty close from what I heard."

The group of girls gossiped to one another as they then walked away from their spot. Hitoshi's eyebrows furrowed. 'Couple...?' The indigo haired male thought as he gripped the sling of his bag tightly. The indigo haired male didn't know what to feel about the news he just heard. Hitoshi didn't want to believe it. He didn't really need to believe it anywas but there was that tint voice in the back of his mind that maybe this rumor was true, and it made him feel something inside him churn.

'But that idiot would already have said anything if he does have a girlfriend...' Hitoshi had rationally thought as he decided to go to the courtyard as what he had heard from the group of girls that [Name] was there.

Hitoshi was already in the entrance of the courtyard and lo and behold, there stood [Name] and a girl with maroon colored hair that braided neatly. The two seemed to be enjoying themselves as [Name] and Hana were sitting in one of the benches in the courtyard, and Hitoshi did not miss on how close the two were sitting together side by side as they were talking. Hana would occasionally giggle at whatever [Name] was saying. The [Hair color] haired male was comically gesturing as he spoke and Hutoshi saw that the both of them have smiles plastered on their lips.

As the indigo haired male watched, there was something inside him churned in a nasty sort of way. There was that bitter taste in his mouth as he watches his friend can just talk casually to this female. Hitoshi didn't know why or what that feeling was, but Hitoshi fully knew that he did not liked it. He did not liked it one bit.

'What the hell am I feeling?' Hitoshi thought in frustration as he finally got fed up by watching the [Hair color] haired male interact with the maroon haired female and turned around to leave. The indigo haired male frowned as he really did not know why he felt this way. What was he feeling anyways?

'Am I... Am I jealous...?' Hitoshi had thought as he stopped walking for a moment. Looking back at how he acted and felt right now, it seemed like he was. The rational part of his mind was screaming that he was, in deed, jealous. But what and why?

Shaking his head, the indigo haired male let out a huff of irritation. 'Why would I be jealous?' Hitoshi thought to himself as he continue walking again. He wasn't jealous. Why would he be? Hitoshi wasn't definitely jealous at how [Name] acted to that female. Well, maybe Hitoshi does. This wasn't the first time the indigo haired male feel the bitter fangs of jealousy bit him. Hitoshi always feel that nasty feeling of jealousy a lot of times, especially how it reminds him that [Name] was a popular guy. Hitoshi gets reminded that [Name] can freely can interact with people without be on guard with whatever he would say or do. He could approach anyone and they would actually smile at him and not be sneered.

The indigo haired male hated to see [Name] interact with people without care in the world. Hitoshi absolutely hated it because it always reminded him what he can not do. Hitoshi gets reminded that [Name] was popular and has many other friends that wasn't him. Hitoshi was jealous with [Name]. He wasn't jealous at that female who can freely talk to the [Hair color] haired male and laugh along with him without judgemental eyes staring at them. No, Hitoshi knows he was jealous of [Name]. No one else.

Hitoshi liked to believe he was. The indigo haired male rationalized that that was the cause of his bitter jealousy that he was feeling. Nothing else. What can he be jealous about anyways other than that? Hitoshi was sure. He's sure he was.

So why does it feels like he was wrong?

The indigo haired male out a groan leaving his lips as he threw his bag on the floor and then flopped onto his bed, not even bother to change out from his uniform as he was too tired. Hitoshi felt his entire body relaxed. Currently, Hitoshi was already in his bedroom of his home. The indigo haired male had only arrived a few moments ago after he had decided to just leave without telling the [Hair color] haired male. Hitoshi's mind had argued that the [Hair color] haired male was rather busy anyways on entertaining that Hana girl he saw.

The indigo haired male rolled his body as he was now facing the ceiling of his room. That feeling was still there. The feeling of uncertainty and Hitoshi did not liked it. He was frustrated at why he was feeling all moopy and drained. 'I just need some sleep.' Hitoshi has thought as he let out a breath and closed his eyes. Hitoshi was about to sleep when he heard his phone's ringtone. Turning, Hitoshi grabbed his phone and he immediately saw a notification that made him frown.

Idiot (◕ω◕✿) sent (2) messages

Hitoshi let out a groan. The indigo haired male did not want to deal with this right now. Hitoshi switched his phone off and was about to just throw it beside him when it went on again and showed that he recieved another text messages. With a tired sigh, Hitoshi decided to just read the messages and reply. Maybe then [Name] can go away for a bit. Even just for a tiny bit.

TO: Hito-chan♡ (눈_눈)

FROM: Idiot (◕ω◕✿)

HITO-CHAN!!! (ू ˃︿˂ ू)

[03:45 PM]

WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?!? \(T□T)/

[03:45 PM]

HITO-CHAN!!! (ू ˃□˂ ू)

[03:46 PM]

ANSWER MEEEEEEEE (╥﹏╥)

[03:46 PM]

Hitoshi blankly looked at the screen of his phone which displayed the text message from the [Hair color] haired male. With a tired sigh, the indigo haired male decided to reply.

TO: Idiot (◕ω◕✿)

FROM: Hito-chan♡ (눈_눈)

i wasnt feeling well

[03:48 PM]

had to go home immediately so i did

[03:48 PM]

Hitoshi looked at the two text he had sent. The indigo haired male bit his bottom lip as he then let out another sigh. Why did he send that? "Wasn't feeling well?" That was a lie... right...?

Hitoshi shakes his head. No. It wasn't a lie. He did feel unwell... why was he feeling guilty anyways?

Why was he feeling this way? He doesn't know. The indigo haired male was tired.

There was a buzz on his hand and the indigo haired male looked at the screen of his phone to see that the [Hair color] haired male had replied. It was almost instantly which honestly made Hitoshi amused for a bit.

TO: Hito-chan♡ (눈_눈)

FROM: Idiot (◕ω◕✿)

EH?!? Σ(°△°|||)︴

[03:49 PM]

SERIOUSLY?!?

[03:49 PM]

YOU BETTER REST THEN HITOSHI!!! DONT WANT YA TO GET MORE SICK!!! (」°ロ°)」

[03:50 PM]

TAKE CARE ALRIGHT HITOSHI OR ELSE ヾ(｀⌒´メ)ノ″

[03:51 PM]

love you (✿ づ◡ w ◡)づ ♡♡♡

[03:53 PM]

The corner of the indigo haired male's lips twitched upward. A smile threatening to makes it way to his lips as Hitoshi read the [Hair color] haired male's text. For some odd reason, that bitter feeling Hitoshi had felt from school until he arrived at his home seemed to be replaced by something warm. It was... nice.

'Love... huh...' The indigo haired male thought as he looked at the last two text the [Hair color] haired male sent to him. To take care of himself and sending an "i love you" with a stupidly cute kaomoji that [Name] always love to send along with his texts. 'Does he always mean saying those stuff?' The indigo haired male wondered.

Hitoshi realized what he was thinking and immediately shakes his head to get those thoughts out of his head in a flustered manner. The indigo haired male did not need this. [Name] is just a dumb male who needs to stop being all openly affectionate to everyone.

TO: Idiot (◕ω◕✿)

FROM: Hito-chan♡ (눈_눈)

whatever

[04:03 PM]

"HITO-CHAN!!!" Hitoshi braced himself and there came the impact of a certain [Hair color] haired male barrelling towards him then colliding at his back. Hitoshi felt deja vu at that moment as this scene seemed to be familiar. It probably was from how it had recently happened days ago when he was waiting for the [Hair color] haired male to go to that cat cafe and [Name] threw himself at Hitoshi's back.

This time it was no different as [Name] threw himself on the indigo haired male's back. Hitoshi let out a pained grunt as he felt [Name]'s weight on his back and how the [Hair color] haired male's [Skin color] arms wrapped around his neck tightly. The [Hair color] haired male then began to nuzzle his face on the crook of the indigo haired male's neck. Hitoshi's face flushed red at his friend's affectionate gesture. Honestly, Hitoshi wonders if this guy even knows what personal space is.

"Flirt, get off me!!!" Hitoshi had yelled out in embarrassment as he tried to unwrapped [Name]'s arms off of his neck. Unfortunately for him and fortunately for [Name], the [Hair color] haired male's hold was rather tight and Hitoshi doesn't have the enough energy or strength to peel [Name] off of him.

The [Hair color] haired male didn't mind the indigo haired male's futile efforts to take away his hold as [Name] perked at what Hitoshi just called him. "Flirt...?" [Name] asked out loud.

"Did I leveled up from "idiot" to "flirt"...?" The [Hair color] haired male had asked. Amusement on hsi tone which did not go unnoticed by the indigo haired male who's face flushed in either embarrassed or anger. Perhaps both as Hitoshi harshly elbowed [Name]'s stomach. The [Hair color] haired male let out a pained yelp as he immediately wrapped his arms off of Hitoshi to wrap on his hurting stomach.

"Why did you do that Hito-chan?!?" [Name] asked as comical tears fell down his [Eye color] eyes. Hitoshi could only roll his eyes at his friend's overdramatic tendencies.

"That's what you get," Hitoshi had said as he crossed his arms and rolled his eyes again when he saw [Name] kneeling on the floor as he still held his aching stomach. "Oh, don't be so overdramatic you damn flirt," Hitoshi has hissed as [Name] sniffed at his friend's attitude. "And stop calling me Hito-chan goddammit!"

"Wahhh!!! Why are you such a meanie Hito-chan?!?" The [Hair color] haired male loudly cried. Why was his best friend so cruel? [Name] wonders that every single day.

"Shut up, flirt!" The indigo haired male had said as he turned around and began to walk away from the crying male. [Name] saw Hitoshi walking away and he immediately stood up and ran to the indigo haired male while muttering how mean the male was. As [Name] reached Hitoshi as he was walking side by side with the indigo haired male, the [Hair color] haired male let out a sigh.

"Hey, Hito-chan?" The [Hair color] haired male had called. The said male turned to look at him with a raised brow. Hitoshi hummed in response as he saw the [Hair color] haired male send him a beaming smile. "You're doing fine now, right? We'll walk together this time?"

It was merely an innocent question. But for some odd reason, Hitoshi remembered what he saw yesterday on seeing the [Hair color] haired male interact with that maroon haired female. How they both happily they chatted like there was no care in the world and how close they sat together. The indigo haired male remembered that bitter feeling of jealousy he felt. And now it came back again and sank its fangs onto Hitoshi as he continued to remembered yesterday.

The indigo haired male turned away from the [Hair color] haired male's peering [Eye color] eyes as Hitoshi looked in front of him with a hardened gaze. Hitoshi gripped the strap of his bag tightly as he felt his stomach churn. Why was he feeling like this again? Hitoshi didn't liked it. He didn't liked it one bit. "Whatever," Hitoshi had blankly said as he fasten his pace.

"Let's go already you, flirt. We'll be late!" And with that the indigo haired male left [Name] who stopped for a moment. The [Hair color] haired male felt that quick shift of demeanor from his friend. It was cold and made [Name] feel like he was freezing. The [Hair color] haired male doesn't know what happened on why his indigo haired friend's shift of demeanor but right now, he doesn't need to know. [Name] felt like Hitoshi won't share it to him anyways. The [Hair color] haired male realized that Hitoshi was already a block away from him as he then shakes his head and immediately jogged towards the indigo haired male's side.

"Wait up Hito-chan! Don't leave me behind!!!"

"Then don't be so slow you damn flirt!"

"You're such a meanie Hito-chan!!!"

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#mha shinsou #bnha shinsou #shinsou x male reader #shinsou hitoshi #hitoshi shinsou #hitoshi shinsou x male reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academy #hitoshi x male reader #male reader #x male reader #male reader insert #top male reader

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gemlinz · 4 years ago

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Fulcrum ch. 1 - Meeting (Levi x f!Reader)

Summary: It was a cruel world, she knew. She also knew better than to ask for more than her lot: being a full time barmaid and a part time thief. She helped where she could, bitterly accepted where she could not. Feared the monsters lurking outside the walls. But still - being near him, taking in his strength, his resolve - she couldn't help but hope for more. For herself. For him. For humanity. Warnings: Swearing, Blood

| CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | Read on A03

As far as missions go, Levi supposed this one didn’t suck as bad as some of the ones he’d been on.

He was covered in significantly less viscera for one. For two...

Actually, watching his target seemingly vanish once again, he decided that was the only perk. He had been chasing her for several blocks now.

Frustration drove him as he hurdled a crate searching the area wildly for any sign that she’d been this way. It was mostly luck he saw a flash of her disappear over the building at the end of the alley. Gritting his teeth he launched himself onto the nearest fire escape to pursue. Being covered in Titan guts was actually starting to look like the better option.

As he heaved himself onto the ledge, he cursed Erwin and anyone involved in the idiotic decision that he couldn't use his 3DMG, spewing some bullshit about “proper permits”. Fucking assholes - the precious pearl clutchers of Mitras could kiss his ass, this target was pissing him off.

Looking ahead, he saw her running full tilt across the rooftop, nimbly weaving through the chimneys littering her path. Pausing only to unholster his gun, he once again began the chase.

The rooftop came to an abrupt end and he saw her flail a bit to catch herself from falling. At four stories up, she wouldn't make the jump down without at least a broken ankle - even if she tried, he’d be able to apprehend her without much struggle.

Breathing more heavily than he would like, Levi leveled his gun, aiming for her legs. Erwin said to incapacitate, not eliminate - as long as her dumbass didn't fall over from the impact, mission complete. He could almost feel the hot bath waiting for him at home - it’d been awhile since he worked up this much of a sweat.

“Oi,” He commanded to her back, “Stay the fuck put. I’d be lying if I said I didn't want to shoot you - you’ve been a pain in my fucking ass.”

Weariness tensed her shoulders as she glanced back at him, eyes hard, before her whole person slumped in a sigh. His grip tightened on the gun as she threw her hands in the air in an over exaggerated show of surrender before turning on her heel. Levi didn't buy it for a second.

Not taking his eyes off her, he continued to advance as he got his first real look. Covered head to toe in form fitting black cloth, the only part of her that was visible was the top of her face, dominated by her E/C eyes - they were intense, but more importantly - she didn’t seem worried in the least. Was she delusional?

“Listen cunt, try anything and I will absolutely blow off your kneecaps. I need you alive, not whole.” When she remained in the same position, he narrowed his eyes and slowly moved towards her. “On your knees. Now.”

In a split second her hands went from raised above her head to a mocking salute, and Levi pulled the trigger in a knee-jerk reaction. The gun clicked, but there was no kickback. No bullet, either.

Levi could only chance a look at his gun before her fist, still clenched above her heart, propped up her middle finger in a different kind of salute. She leaned back before disappearing off the wall towards the ground below.

He threw the gun aside and charged after her, stopping abruptly at the edge. Frantic coal eyes scoured below, before anger boiled low in his stomach - below was the city square, a crowd gathered that she’d be impossible to find in.

“Fuck!” His yell attracted a few glances up his way, but he paid them no mind as he walked back towards his defective gun.

Picking it up he inspected it more closely - something was obstructing the hammer. Biting back another curse, he pried out a crumpled piece of paper. Immediately he mentally retraced his steps - when did…

Then he remembered - walking down the street to his designated position when the mission began -

A quick yelp and then she was on the ground. Levi was a bit startled himself - he didn't even see her, so caught up in his mental rant about bullshit policies regarding 3DMG in city limits. Visibly though, his face remained as stoic as ever.

“You should watch where you’re going.” He bit out, offering his hand to the prone woman. She accepted his hand reluctantly and he pulled her up. He must have misjudged his strength because she was sent careening into his chest before she straightened herself. He steadied her, scowling.

“Sorry, t-thanks.” She offered demurely, eyes not meeting his, before practically running away through the market.

The memory flooded back and he struggled to remember everything about her as possible but - there wasn't much. H/C hair, about his height - that's it. Fuck, that could be anyone.

Fucking idiot he cursed himself and he could almost hear Kenny lecturing him to always be on guard, even in a city like Mitras. He began his climb down the building.

Especially in a city like Mitras, where there was less dirt and grime than poorer cities, but twice as much backstabbing.

The urge to punch something strong, he made his way back to the rendezvous place - he was never going to hear the end of this.

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

As she moved through the crowd, F/N did her best to level her breathing and ignore the throbbing in her ankle. This was not how she expected her day to go - Peter said it was an easy score, no muss, no fuss.

She wasn't expecting the Walls-damned Survey Corp to be on her ass. She could only wonder at this new move by the MPs - she hadn't caused enough recent trouble for the “Humanities Strongest Soldier” type treatment. If she hadn’t thought ahead, recognizing him earlier in the market... Wincing, she tried her best to even her gait and made for home; Louis would know what to do.

She fought every instinct telling her to just bolt; it would be a dead giveaway. As it was, she stood out in her unusual garb - switching out her mask and hood for a cap and spectacles, both swiped from nearby stalls, was the best she could do until she got somewhere safer. She navigated the streets, avoiding khaki jackets as best she could.

“Honestly, it's unthinkable,” She heard a voice start from a pair of drunk women walking a few yards ahead of her, “If those dirty free loaders think they deserve anything, then they should go back out and fight for Wall Maria themselves.” Her serious expression dropped as she drunkenly stumbled, her friend giggling at her clumsiness.

Fists clenched, F/N bit her tongue. Walking through downtown Mitras was always a struggle; she would never understand the inhumanity of Wall Sinas' ignorance. She pushed on - now was not the time.

She took the scenic route. Pausing only briefly to glance imperceptibly for any potential pursuers, she eventually turned down the street that housed Louis’ Pub. The lanterns were running on fumes at this time of night, and the street was quiet. The people of Mitras may be abhorrent but this Pub was the only exception, was home. She felt the tension leave her shoulders as she neared and saw it not swarmed by MPs. Or the Corp.

A little bit more pep in her step, F/N nudged the doors open with her shoulder as she took off the hat and glasses, tossing them onto the first table inside. The bar looked recently closed, most tables cleared and wiped down, chairs stacked on top.

“Louis!” She called to the doorway that led to the back, hearing her mentor moving around, “You will not believe the night I’ve had. Any idea what I did to piss off the Survey Corp? Had Captain Fucking Levi after me. The runt almost had me - Do they seriously not have anything better to do?”

Moving farther in, she leaned over the bar and grabbed a bottle, practiced hands flicking off the cap before taking a long swig. She savored the burn as she swallowed. When he didn’t round the corner to the main bar, she paused, bottle halfway to her lips, eyebrows furrowed. What was he doing back there?

“Louis?” She tried again. “Do you need he-”

Instinct was the only thing that saved her from the bullet, dropping to a crouch an instant before it flew by and lodged itself in the wall.

“Tch.”

In an instant, she was back on her feet, but wasn't quick enough to dodge the hand on her neck thrusting her face first into the bar counter. She felt bone give before the pain blinded her.

Now falling, she threw her hands in front of her to catch herself before the floor did, and was rewarded with a heavy knee into her unprotected abdomen.

This time she did hit the floor, hard. Dazed and winded, she groaned and sluggishly moved to roll over but was stopped by a knee pressing painfully into her back, her arm pulled behind her. Her shoulder strained under the force and she bit back a whimper. Panicking, her free arm flailed, searching the ground for anything to defend herself with. The cool glass of the now broken liquor bottle grazed her fingers and she strained to reach it.

Ice flooded her veins and she froze at the bite of cold steel suddenly pressed against her throat.

“Try it and you’re dead.”

E/C eyes widened at the familiar voice.

“H-how-” She bit back a yelp when he pulled her arm further back, kicking the broken glass away from her reach. Only the feel of his blade pressed against her throat stopped her from struggling - she felt fear crawling up her chest as helplessness settled in.

“How’d we find you?” Levi finished for her, voice mocking “Your buddy told us you’d be back here.”

Her mind raced, trying to think of who the hell would even know to look for her here - Peter? No. Peter was a fickle idiot, but he doesn't know about the pub. Could it be - as best she could, her eyes looked towards the open door to the back. There's no way Louis missed the noise of this very one sided fight.

F/N was pulled out of her thoughts when Levi leaned over her, the movement putting more force into his hold on her. She winced.

“If you even twitch,” He hissed into her ear, increasing the pressure on the blade at her neck, “I’ll slit your fucking throat. Understand?”

He paused long enough that she realized he was looking for an answer. She nodded fearfully and he shoved into her once more for good measure before the blade was removed and her free arm was pulled behind her as well.

She heard the clink of metal and a second later, cool iron at her wrists.

Face throbbing with a broken nose and likely concussion, F/N could only allow herself to be hoisted into one of the bar’s chairs, hands shackled behind her.

Trying to get a grasp on the situation, she blinked through the spots in her vision and tried to breathe around the blood filling her sinuses. Footsteps sounded to her left but trying to loll her head in that direction resulted in a nausea that she had to shut her eyes and breathe through.

Granted, she wouldn't mind throwing up on this dicks’ shoes - but still. Not dignified, and she didn't fancy getting her ass beat again.

A hand in her hair pulled her head back painfully.

“Try anything and I’ll break your legs.” Was hissed in her ear as warning when she heard additional footsteps signaling the arrival of someone new.

“Levi.” A commanding voice sounded, cutting through her delirium. Nothing more was said, but she heard an annoyed tsk, and her hair was released, allowing her head to roll forward.

“I said to go easy.” The new voice chided after a heavy sigh.

“You didn't have to chase her through half the city.” Levi deadpanned, nonplussed. “She’s lucky I didn’t just shoot her.”

Not for lack of trying , she thought bitterly, eyeing the bullet hole in the wall where her head had been moments prior.

A gentle touch on her arm startled her. Squinting, she made out Louis' wrinkled face. Pain splintered through her chest at the sight of him. Louis looked the same as he always did, a much younger man stuck in an old man's body. Only his white hair and shrunken frame gave away his age, he moved like a man 20 years his junior. He was like a father to her - took her from Marie’s care and shaped her into something human . Him selling her out was unfathomable, even as the evidence piled up.

“It’s ok F/N,” Louis said in his familiar soothing voice “Erwin’s a friend - please just listen to what he has to say...”

While she could only stare incredulously at her mentor, “Erwin” pulled up a chair in front of her. Sitting down, he leaned forward, arms resting on his knees. He seemed to be examining her and she felt like a specimen on one of the Military’s engineers tables; she was being dissected.

Blood steadily leaking down her face, F/N’s gaze swiveled between her mentor and the blonde sitting across from her. Finally able to focus, the sight of his uniform was unmistakable.

Her head throbbed painfully and the reality of this betrayal finally hit. White hot fury spurned her forward out of her seat, but she didn't get far - an iron hand on her shoulder shoved her forcefully back into the chair. Once again, a blade was placed at her neck.

“Give me the excuse.” Levi leaned in to speak from behind her.

Louis cast a cold gaze at him before turning to the seated newcomer. “Is this necessary?” He asked.

Erwin’s gaze hadn’t left her face.

“Yes, as unfortunate as it is.” He started. After searching her bloody face, he seemed to reach some conclusion and leaned back, casting a nod towards Levi at the same time. The pressure of the blade left her throat, but F/N did not relax. “She is still technically a criminal, and we cannot afford to be too trusting.”

Her scoff was interrupted by a cough. Spitting out the blood that had drained into her throat, her eyes turned to Erwin.

“You would say that, Military Dog.” She tried her best to hold his gaze but looked away. His eyes weren’t filled with the same ignorant spite she was used to, and it confused her. But he still had his attack dog break her nose so - fuck him anyway.

Erwin only nodded.

“Yes, I do say that. You’re still a thief, however noble your cause may be.”

E/C eyes shot up to once again lock with his blue ones, confusion coloring her features.

“You seem surprised.” He said as Louis moved to take a seat beside you both. “I’m very much aware of your motives, F/N L/N. To take from those who have too much and give to those who have-not.”

“If you’re so aware of my “noble” motives, why don’t you let me go?” She asked through gritted teeth.

Erwin hummed low in his throat.

“In an ideal world, I would.” He crossed his arms, gaze falling above to the ceiling in thought. “But then again, in an ideal world, there wouldn't be any have-nots to steal for.”

He trailed off, staring at something in the distance.

“But I digress,” he sighed, eyes once again landing on hers, “It's not an ideal world, and here we are. It was either us or the MPs that would have caught you, and they lack the vision we do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She spat, mind reeling. The revelation his words brought was a stone in her stomach.

“It means we could use someone with your particular skills.” His gaze was piecing, but her dazed-incredulity allowed her to stare back.

F/N waited for the rest - for some kind of explanation to whatever the hell was happening, but when none came she cast her sights on Louis.

“Is this some kind of joke?” She started, borderline hysterical, “Louis, please - tell me this is just you getting back at me for drinking from the top shelf.”

Louis’ gaze remained stoic, but still as gentle as she always remembered.

“This isn’t a joke, F/N,” He began, running his hand over an old scratch in the bar table, “The Survey Corp needs our help.”

“The fuck they do!” She yelled in an uncharacteristic outburst, panic finally snapping something inside of her, “They’re backed by the government - which means they have fuck all to do with us, or anybody that doesn’t fit into their perfect society. What could I possibly do for them that their pet fucking sociopath back here couldn’t?” She gestured behind her with a nod towards Levi, still standing sentinel at her back. "Stop with this hero shtick and just turn me in already. There’s nowhere you can put me but in the ground that I wouldn’t eventually get out of .”

Louis nodded empathetically.

“I understand your hesitation. But we’ve done jobs for them before-” He held up his hand when she went to interrupt, “Even if you didn't know it at the time.”

At her confusion, he finished: “Just - hear him out, ok? I promise, our goals align, and I won’t let anything happen to you. I wouldn't have called them here if I didn’t trust him.”

Erwin watched the exchange and nodded along.

“Indeed. If it wasn’t us, the Military Policy would have eventually caught up to you-”

“And they would have a field day with a pretty young thing like you,” came from behind her, and she paled at the implication.

“Enough, Levi,” Erwin scolded, voice tired, “But he’s unfortunately not wrong - captivity under the Survey Corps supervision would certainly be preferable to other branches.”

“I-I’m,” F/N began, nerves fried, imagination running wild. Swallowing, she continued. “I’m not joining the Corp, if that's what you're after. I’d rather whatever faces me inside the walls than…” She trailed off.

“Than Titans?” Levi supplied helpfully, though his voice held spite.

“Not all of us have a death wish, you suicidal little runt,” She craned her neck to look at him, fury and fear shining in her eyes. “Or maybe you get off on watching your friends get ea-”

“Levi!” Erwin shouted as the Captain started towards their captive, blade already in hand. “Enough. Go wait for me out front.”

Levi stopped, but his brows furrowed at the command.

“Erwin, I don’t think-" He started, but was stopped by his Commander's sharp look. Scoffing, he turned, slamming the door behind him as he left.

“Apologies, Captain Levi has more cause than most to hate Titans, and is still adjusting to his position. I do not recommend antagonizing him.” Erwin said.

“Noted. I’m still not joining your suicide mission.”

Erwin sighed, shooting a glance at Louis that spoke more than F/N was unable to fully decipher.

“I’m not asking you to.” He started, moving to remove something from his cloak, “In fact, the fact that you're not military is exactly what makes you perfect for this.”

He threw three stacks of bills onto the table to his right, each about a ½ inch thick.

“This is our sign-on offer - each job will warrant an additional fee, depending on it's difficulty.”

Y/N could only stare, slow to process his words.

“Seriously? You want to hire me for a job?” She was incredulous, “And how are you going to explain that to your superiors, Mr. Military?” She asked, nodding towards the cash.

“More of a long term contract than a single job. And we have funds designated to pay outside contractors.”

“Do you beat and shackle all your “outside contractors””? F/N snarked.

Erwin's mouth quirked up.

“Only the particularly precocious ones.”

F/N gaped at his gall, making to speak. He held up his hand before she could start.

“Before you decide, I would like to be clear. It is ultimately your decision, but if you refuse, we will hand you over to the military police for them to pursue whatever justice they see fit.”

F/Ns glare was heavy.

"Better get them over here then. I already told you I'm not fighting any Ti-"

"The jobs I need you to complete would take place inside the walls. And if you're as good as they say, without any fighting at all."

At that she raised an eyebrow.

“What business could the Survey Corp have inside the walls, isn’t that the MPs jurisdiction?” A beat when the thought came, “Did you get caught shacking up with someone's wife? Need some good blackmail material to save your skin?”

“F/N.” Louis chided, but it had less impact on her than it would have a half hour ago before she knew he had sold her out.

Erwin didn’t seem phased, however.

“It’s ok Louis. You're not far off, actually - how much do you know about the politics behind the military?” He asked, blue eyes calculating.

She paused at that, thinking. When she didn’t have a response, Erwin continued.

“I don’t blame you for not knowing - it's a closely guarded government secret. The everyday citizen knowing about any infighting could inspire dissent, which, as I’m sure you can understand, would be disastrous for how secular our way of life is. Because of this secrecy, some branches are allowed to pursue...less savory interests without recourse.”

F/N hummed, bored.

“So our shady government continues to be shady - what does that have to do with me?”

Erwin nodded, “I need ammunition if the Survey Corp is to survive in such an environment. Fight fire with fire, so to speak. As Louis indicated, you’ve already helped us. Do you remember the document you were tasked with stealing from a Nicholas Lovof last year?”

Her eyes shot to Louis accusingly. Louis held up his hands in deference. As far as she knew, that document was sold to an anonymous buyer on the black-market - she had no idea it was the military all long who was after it.

“Your efforts allowed us the funding needed to keep our soldiers alive, F/N. And your work was impeccable - only the nature of the transaction tipped off my involvement to Lovof.”

As she continued to stare Louis down, Erwin continued.

“I’d like you to continue to help us. But more importantly - help all of humanity.”

Sighing, tired E/C slid back over to Erwin as she visibly slumped.

“That's a pretty sales pitch you have there, but you’ll be just fine without me, Commander . The refugees from Wall Maria, on the other hand, are starving as we speak.”

“Your methods of providing funds to feed the refugees are effective only in the short term, Ms. L/N.” He countered, “With the Corp at full strength, we could take back Wall Maria.”

She sat up a bit straighter at that.

“Are you serious? How is that even in the cards?”

“It's all hypothetical - but yes, one day the Corp hopes to reclaim what was taken from us.” He leaned forward to deliver the final blow, “Like I said, our goals align. Help me from outside the military, keep the Corp running, and the trodden and defeated can once again reclaim their old lives.”

F/N paused, trying to see the truth behind his bullshit, but she couldn’t disagree with him. Taking back Wall Maria would help so many people. Small heists here and there helped alleviate some of the bleeding - but this would be a huge win.

Slowly starting to nod, she faced Erwin once more.

“Ok - I don't disagree with you, Erwin .” She said his name like a threat, reaching out to shake his hand. The blondes eyes widened only fractionally. He did not see her slip the cuffs. “I’ll work for you, for now - but the second I see you cross over to the wrong side, to the side where gilded bullshit is worth more than human life, I’ll ruin you myself.”

His unnerving gaze never left her face, but he took her hand in a firm handshake.

“I look forward to working with you, Ms. L/N. I know together we can do great things.”

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi #reader insert #gem writes

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