#but also maybe I would’ve actually still maintained some hope in love and dating

[themoonunderstoodmydadjokes]

..

[negasonicimagines]

Revelation; Part One

warnings/kinks: a/b/o (if you’re penis-repulsed this isn’t for you), smut (duh), brief daddy kink, even briefer mommy kink, cum-eating, cum-marking, cockwarming? (does it count if it’s a/b/o?), light bloodplay, borderline somniphilia (consensual), poisoning, suicidal ideation, allusions to cheating, mentions of conversion therapy, vague mentions of s*xual ass*ult (it doesn’t actually happen in the story, it’s just referred to a lot due to the nature of this universe)

uh… this is another one of those stories that’s just kinda Heavy, please be careful & don’t continue reading if doing so is unsafe for you. I have a variety of other works that don’t have such intense themes, which you can find on my masterlist!

request (+details): Omegaverse: Alphas Yukio and Ellie with a beta reader, but it turns out that reader is a late-bloomer omega who goes into her first heat unexpectedly. / Omegaverse: The setting could be anywhere. The three of them waking up with reader burning hot, believing to be sick but is actually going into heat. The reader could be by themselves when it happens and her alphas come home to a omega in heat / I can’t get this omegaverse idea out of my head, and I hope you don’t mind me telling you this. Reader being alone and confused when her heat came, her alphas gone on a mission. During the time they were gone, Reader made a nest of her alphas’s clothes out of instinct on their bed. By the time Yukio and Ellie returned, Reader is a hot mess from trying to get off, moaning their names and begging for her alphas to help her for she don’t know why she feels like this and is scared.)

synopsis: After Wade discovers you're dealing with suicidal thoughts, he takes it upon himself to help you out, leading to one disaster after another.

author’s note: thank you so much to the lovely anon who requested this for spending so much time with me & making sure everything was juuuust right! Fun fact: we pined, started dating, and broke up, started dating again, and broke up again all before this was published 🙃 sorry everybody, it’s been a rocky road for the past… forever.

Standing guard after school for a few extra bucks is a pretty sweet deal, you have to admit. You mostly just sit around with a pair of binoculars munching on your snack of choice, using a gun loaded with tranquilizer darts to drop anyone who threatens the safety of the school and its residents. If given permission, or an order to do so, you can use your bow and arrow to really take down your enemies.

You’re pretty lucky in life overall, you also have to admit, with two alpha girlfriends and a variety of friends and acquaintances, not to mention the advantages your mutation gives you.

It makes you feel even more guilty for what you’re really thinking about right now. Not Ellie, not Yukio, not keeping an eye out for threats, nothing but a simple question:

Would it be more efficient to slit your wrists with the point of one of your arrows, or to fling yourself from the top of this turret? Which would hurt worse? You look from the sharp arrow you hold in your hand to the plush grass below, managed by some of the other students.

It’s far cheaper to pay students to maintain the yard and house, not to mention it gives students like you a way of earning the kind of spending money that other students receive from their parents or from jobs in town. Your post would be snatched up in no time if you were to pass.

Speaking of parents.

Your father’s exact words to your mother were “I hate that you use a highschool mistake to keep me trapped with you forever!” the last time you happened to hear them argue. They were no longer invited to parent-teacher conferences after that.

It’s a fine reason for him to be angry, but, unfortunately, you’re the highschool mistake he was talking about. The one he’s always talking about whenever they fight. Maybe if you were gone, he’d finally be free. Maybe you’d finally be free from his resentment. He, fortunately enough, rarely lashes out at you directly; however… There’s always been a distance.

Would he love you more if you were gone? If you saved him from… Well, you? You’ve always wanted him to love you, to look at you with something other than anger or resentment. Would he finally be proud of you, for owning up to every horrible thing you are and have done by paying the ultimate price? Would everyone?

You’re holding the bladed tip of the arrow right against your wrist, almost like a normal person might hold a bracelet to their wrist -- trying it on for size, without really thinking about it.

Suddenly, though, Wade’s here. And he’s definitely thinking about it. He yanks the arrow out of your hand, accidentally snapping the wood that makes up its length.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I- Uh, I don’t know,” you mumble, embarrassed, because you honestly don’t. Being alone with your thoughts gives them the space to grow from their poisoned roots into something dark you don’t really recognize as yours.

“You- You don’t know?!” Wade questions, and the unusual severity of his tone stuns you to the point of laughter. “This isn’t fucking funny, what the hell is wrong with you? Why were you-?! What were you-?! What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m standing guard. What the fuck are you doing?” you echo dryly, resorting to quips to avoid telling him any more than he already knows.

“I’m freaking out! I can’t kill you for apparently wanting to kill you, so that’s all I can do! I thought you were on antidepressants!”

“I am. Have been for years. They don’t cure depression, they make it easier to manage.”

“Apparently fucking not! Come on, let’s go talk to somebody and get you an appointment with a psychiatrist. You’ve been on the same prescription all these years, right? Maybe you just need your dosage upped.” Wade’s not asking, he’s telling, his hand wrapped around your bicep to pull you along, although his grip isn’t as tight as you’d expect for a man of his stature, let alone an alpha.

Why does he care so much? He’s always so gentle, even when you piss him off like this. Tears well up in your eyes but you blink hard. You know he’s been through worse. That most people here have. You have no right to cry.

Wade yells at a surprised Charles Xavier until an appointment is set up, which goes pretty well. Four days after that incident, you meet with the psychiatrist who agrees that upping your dosage is the smartest decision, frankly, she’s surprised it wasn’t done sooner. And, after about a week of your new dosage level, you’re feeling better than ever.

Way better.

“You… You’d really wanna do that? For everyone to know I’m yours?”

Ellie nods, cheeks darkened. You’re straddling her, and the two of you have been trading heated kisses with Yukio. Who would’ve thought more of the medication you were sure killed your libido before you could even develop one would be what rescued it?

“Of course we would. I know you don’t like to stereotype, but some of the stereotypes have truth to them. We’re… Territorial,” Yukio reminds you.

“I’m… A beta,” you remind her in a teasing echo of her tone.

“Our beta,” Ellie cuts back in. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Even if I’d rather not let you guys, y’know…” Your hand rubs at the space between your neck and your shoulder - where they’d likely mark you with their teeth - nervously. “...today? Or go farther than what we’re doing right now?”

“Of course, baby! The fact that you’ve even done this much…” Yukio trails off, looking over you. Your lips are swollen and still slightly parted as you continue to pant a little. The top few buttons of your (well, borrowed from Ellie) flannel are undone.

“We’re so grateful, and so proud of you,” Ellie continues, drawing your attention back to her. “We’re willing to wait as long as you need, even if that waiting only ends because you’ve decided that being with us like that isn’t something you want.”

“I do. I always have, I just… I don’t know.”

“The feeling’s still there, in your stomach, right?” Yukio wonders.

“Yeah, a little. It’s like… I know it’s not wrong, but something doesn’t feel quite right. Maybe I should just try to ignore it, I mean, you two have needs-”

“Hey. You know better than that, Y/N. We don’t, okay, babe? Not like that. We wanna have sex with you, not- Not hurt you. You understand that, right?” Ellie reassures you.

“I do, I just feel bad for being such a- I don’t know, a tease?”

“We love you. As in, you. If you forced yourself to do something you didn’t want to, just for us, how would we forgive ourselves?” Yukio says what she’s said a million times, but every time it surprises you. You tend to see yourself as only being valuable in what you can offer others— protection, a laugh, some good advice every now and then —you never expect anyone to care for you outside of that. But here they are. Absolutely perfect.

And you were thinking of flinging yourself off a tower a couple weeks ago. Should you tell them? They just think you went for an overdue checkup, which is technically the case. You don’t know what’s worse, hiding it or telling them. You’ll have to talk to Wade, he’s good at giving advice. Might not be good advice, but he’s definitely good at giving it.

“Everything okay, sharpshooter?” Ellie hands gently squeeze your hips to get your attention.

You blink back out of your thoughts, smiling a little and blushing at the nickname.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry, I just zoned out. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Everything okay?” your alphas ask, again, in unison. Your alphas. They probably couldn’t handle it if you had a problem they couldn’t solve, the guilt of not being able to provide for you would overwhelm them.

“Yeah, totally,” you reply, because it is, now, especially here with them. Ellie starts to button up your flannel.

“Oh, we don’t have to-”

Ellie gives you a pointed look, then looks down at her crotch, then back up at you. Your blush deepens.

“Yeah, I’m guessing a cold shower’s in order,” Yukio agrees. “El, you can go first.”

“We can’t go together?” Ellie asks.

“Well, I don’t wanna leave Y/N alone. Our brave little beta did a lot more than usual. Don’t want you to feel used, baby,” Yukio explains to you both.

“Oh, duh,” Ellie agrees. You give her a quick smooch on the forehead before dismounting her and allowing yourself to be pulled into Yukio’s arms. Ellie grabs some clean clothes and heads off. As soon as the door shuts, Yukio giggles, and you look to her with a curious, confused expression.

“Now you’re all mine to cuddle.” Yukio gloats, kissing the top of your head. “Mm… You smell really good, babe. New shampoo?”

“Ish, yeah,” you agree, despite the fact that you started using it nearly a month ago at this point. Maybe the body heat you built up from the makeout session made it smell stronger, though.

Yukio keeps sniffing you, but you don’t call her out on it. She’s a little bit quirky, sure, but there’s no need to make her feel self-conscious about it when the tickling sensation feels kinda nice. She tosses in a few soft presses of her lips against your skin, too, so it’s not like she’s the only one who benefits.

Yukio eventually stops this, though, instead requesting to scent you. You’ve told the girls before that they don’t have to ask, but they— especially Yukio —seem to prefer to. You figure it’s likely to reassure them that you not only tolerate but appreciate their alphahood.

“I love you, you know that? Not just ‘cause you make me smell like petrichor. I’m surprised Ellie doesn’t spend all day huffing your scent, I… I know I would, if I could smell it.” You didn’t mean for the sad envy to ring so clearly in your words, but it’s as sharp as a knife, cutting deep enough to make Yukio gasp softly with sympathy as she rubs your wrist against her scent gland, eyes snapping open.

“Well, next time it’s about to rain, we’ll go outside, then. Every time it’s about to rain,” Yukio insists. “Who- Who told you?”

“Wade. I was just curious. He said Ellie smells like a campfire, the scent even clings like it. He even said I smell a little weird. Most betas smell like something, but I’m just… A blank canvas.”

You feel her rumble a bit with a growl, and her arms wrap tightly around you… Protectively? You blush.

“Y-Yukio?” you nervously ask, caught off guard. Ellie’s usually more of the growling type. Yukio’s pretty good about keeping her possessiveness and any other “negative” alpha traits in check. This side of her doesn’t come out often.

“What was he doing that close to you?” she snarls protectively, and if the growl wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, that was. “Sm- Smelling you?”

“Yukes, Wade’s the same age as my parents. Honestly, he’s- He’s kinda- He’s nice to me. We’re friends. I think if he was going to hurt me, he would’ve done it by now. You two keep forgetting I’m just a beta. No one wants a piece of this pie except for you and Ellie.”

“You’d be surprised at the way some alphas… It’s sick, but they- Because betas, you know, they don’t really produce slick like omegas do, and they don’t have quite as much give, uh… So, some alphas, um, they… Just let me hold you, okay?” Yukio requests. “I can’t talk about it, it’ll make me too mad.”

“I respect that. Thank you. I, uh, I didn’t realize that at all, so thank you for helping me be even safer,” you reassure her. She’s trembling. “Do you want me to hold you, instead?”

“No, no, this will make me feel better. I just… I love you. Can you just…? Just- Just say you’re mine.” This is a request Yukio has semi-often. When she feels weak in comparison to other alphas, when she feels overshadowed by Ellie, any time she needs reassurance or is just feeling bad, she’ll probably ask. You get it, being hers (and Ellie’s, of course) makes you feel better, too.

“I’m yours, Yukio. Always yours. You make me so happy, both of you. Happier than- You make me feel so-“ You get a bit choked up. These girls, these alphas… They’re so important to you.

“Oh, no, baby, please don’t cry,” Yukio implores, watching your eyes water. You turn so that your face doesn’t just rest on her chest but is buried in it.

“It’s just that no one ever loved me before you two. No one, ever. Not my parents, not my ’friends,’ no one. I don’t know why I’ve been so emotional lately, I’m sorry.”

“No one at all?” Yukio questions, but that’s the missing puzzle piece, she realizes. You’re always treating hers and Ellie’s love for you like it’s something you have to earn, no matter how much they insist being yourself is enough. She fully grasps now that it’s never been enough before.

She holds you even tighter.

“Mm-mm,” you confirm, shaking your head a little. “You and Ellie just mean the whole world to me. And- And… Wade’s my friend, too. Can I still, y’know, spend time with him?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I just- He’s a nice guy, but… I don’t want him to put you in danger. You can handle yourself, though. Can’t you, sharpshooter?” Her fingers trickle up your ribs as she says the nickname, making you giggle and squirm.

“Absolutely, but it is nice to have two strong, sexy alphas take care of me instead every now and then,” you admit, albeit a bit teasingly, blushing softly. You turn back so that you can see her adorable face.

“Really?” Yukio asks, but she knows.

“Really,” you agree with a smile.

“I’m yours, too. You know that, right?” Yukio checks, fiddling with your hair a bit.

“Mhm. It’s nice to hear you say it like that, though.”

“I can think of other ways you might like to hear it,” Yukio flirts.

“Yeah, you think so? Show me,” you tease back.

“I will…” Yukio trails off as she trails her finger along your jaw, tipping your head up to the perfect kissing angle and- “Eventually, little beta.”

“I- I’m taller than you,” you weakly protest.

“Your breath still hitched,” Yukio reminds you with a giggle and a gentle tap on the tip of your nose.

You stutter a little more before giving up, burying your face again and whining.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I just can’t help myself. You’re too cute,” Yukio half-heartedly apologizes, still chuckling to herself as she strokes your back.

Ellie returns from her shower, inky tendrils of hair ruffled around but with no product in.

“She’s asleep?” Ellie asks, sounding a bit disappointed, but there’s still a significant amount of fondness in her tone.

“She’s not,” you mumble back, and both girls chuckle, Yukio untangling herself from you. You can’t help but pout a little, already missing the bubblegum-haired alpha.

“I know Yukio’s your favorite, but you could at least act a little bit happy to see me,” Ellie half-jokes, and you smile, pulling (though she doesn’t give any resistance) the girl back into your bed. She holds you the same way Yukio did, but you don’t really mind the lack of variety.

“You’re both my favorite,” you argue. Ellie takes a deep breath, likely taking in the way you’re completely embraced by Yukio’s scent.

“I don’t think that’s how favorites work,” she chuckles.

“Out of all the people in the world, you two are both my favorite,” you insist. She takes the hand you have resting on her ribcage and holds it inches from her scent gland. “Please,” you say, before she can even ask. Ellie takes a whiff again.

“Did she leave anywhere untouched?” She wonders.

“N-not really,” you stutter, because now you’re thinking of where she didn’t touch you.

“Well, she’ll have to share a little, then,” Ellie says.

You hum with delight as she scents you.

“You make a new friend?” Ellie questions.

“Huh?”

“You smell… Different,” she responds, looking at you… Well, differently. “Like roses.”

“I have a new-ish shampoo?” You offer, but that just seems to intensify the look.

Your phone rings. It’s Wade. You wriggle out of Ellie’s loose hold on you, answering.

“Hey, you know how I’m your academic advisor?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well, apparently, thwarting your suicide attempts isn’t my only job. I also have to tell you when they need you in the office, which is now.”

“Seriously?! I didn’t even throw that pencil at Richard, and even if I did, he deserved it for being such a-“

“Oh, right! Should’ve opened with the good news. Your parents are here to visit.”

“What?! That’s-“ You sigh, not wanting to alarm Ellie any more than you already have. “Okay. I’ll be there. Just give me a second to get dressed.”

“Wow, no shame at all. I salute you. Toodles!” Wade hangs up before you realize he misunderstood you.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asks.

“Nothing, just… My parents are here.”

“Your… Parents?”

“Kind of have to have those to exist, usually,” you remark, and she snorts.

“I know- I- Well, we’ve known each other for a while, and you don’t really talk about them, so I sort of assumed…” Ellie trails off.

“Oh, um, yeah, no, they’re very alive,” you confirm with an awkward chuckle.

“Right. I’ll go get ‘Kio, and we’ll all go, okay?”

“Uh- Um- Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“My parents, they kind of… They- I love you. And I’m not ashamed of you.”

“But they’ll be ashamed of you,” Ellie understands.

“I haven’t seen them in so long, they don’t even know that I like girls, let alone that I’m dating two, or that they’re both alphas… I want you and Yukio to come with me, but, if they start to- If they’re how they are, I-“

“Give my energy to helping you instead of hurting them,” Ellie uses Piotr’s words.

“Perfect,” you agree, and Ellie smiles back, but it falters. You didn’t mean to worry her so much.

“I’ll go get Yukio. You get changed, okay?”

“Mhm,” you agree, and she heads off to the bathroom. You steal one of Ellie’s band tees and an oversized cardigan of Yukio’s for comfort, finding a pair of high-waisted bottoms to tuck the tee shirt in. You throw on a pair of sneakers, and when the girls emerge from the bathroom, you pop in to freshen up.

Once you’re done, Yukio’s caught up on the situation and the three of you make your way to the front offices.

Wade meets you outside.

“Oh em gee, Y/N, you’ll never believe it, I actually went to high school with both of your parents.”

“Uh… Cool?” You respond, because you’re not entirely sure how to.

“Yeah, uh, I get now that it’s probably not really good news that they’re here, huh? No wonder I found you doing that the other day.”

“Doing what?” Yukio and Ellie ask, though for some reason, Ellie’s is tinged with suspicion, maybe even anger.

“I- Listen, it’s not a big deal, I got my prescription updated and all that good stuff, okay?” You prime them. “I was thinking about killing myself the other day and Wade caught me.”

“Thinking?! You’re gonna call holding the fucking tip of an arrow to your wrist thinking?!”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ellie sounds as angry as Wade does, but she looks pained. This is why you didn’t tell them.

“Hey, she doesn’t need this right now,” Yukio argues, but she looks hurt, too.

“I mean, I was just considering if it would be more painful than jumping off of the turret,” you mumble, your defense embarrassingly weak.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Ellie decides, and Yukio nods. You three follow Wade to Xavier’s office. Wade breezes in, but you’re practically stuck in the doorway, nervous to look at even the backs of their heads, before they turn around.

“Y/N,” your mom says with a grin, but you know all too well how fake that is. She approaches you, pulls you into a hug, and you want nothing more than to push her away and scrub yourself clean. She doesn’t really love you. The second you speak out of turn, or make a mistake, or give her any excuse, she’ll remind you of your worth. (Or, rather, the lack thereof.)

She slips back into her seat next to your father, in front of the desk where Xavier sits, simply observing.

“It’s been so long,” your father says, but his smile is almost blatantly fake. “Your hair, it’s different.”

“Like you said, it’s been a while,” you say, giving a grimace and an awkward chuckle.

“I don’t think I like it,” he says, like he’s giving his opinion on a sculpture in an art exhibit by some long-dead artist who doesn’t care what he thinks. Like it’s something just… Objective.

“Not sure what to do about that,” you reply sheepishly.

You don’t fully realize that you’re holding Ellie’s hand until she squeezes it reassuringly, three times. A secret code. You step further in to make room for the girls.

“So, uh, I have to ask… Why the sudden visit?”

“Well, we got an e-mail about your medicine, and we wanted to come check on you. Make sure this is the right environment for you,” your mother explains.

“You weren’t sure before you stopped talking to me for two years?” You half-joke, playing dumb.

“Has it really been two years?” A normal person would be asking this rhetorically, and they’d be embarrassed. Your mother, though, is simply trying to gaslight you.

“Longer,” you assure her.

“I thought this place was supposed to provide conversion therapy,” your father says, eyeing your hand, then Ellie’s other hand. “You’re such a fucking liar,” he hisses to your mother.

“Wow, maybe my mom dying when I was young was for the best. Better than this for sure,” Wade jokes, gently elbowing your side. You chuckle, grateful for even the slightest ounce of comic relief.

“You’re even more of a freak than you were in high school.” You squeeze Ellie’s hand tight as your father’s expression darkens even further.

“Funny you should say that, considering-“

“Wade,” your mother cuts him off.

That’s weird, to say the least. You just file that away for later. You have bigger fish to fry, like surviving this visit.

“Y/N, why’d you go for a check-up at all? You barely needed the anti-depressants in the first place,” your mother wonders.

“Because it wasn’t barely. Why else would they raise the dosage?” You ask, and the expression on her face is as stupid as the question she asked.

“Don’t speak to her that way,” your father scolds, like he didn’t just call your mother a fucking liar himself. “You are so ungrateful for everything we’ve done for you, do you realize that?”

“I’m sorry, what have you done for her, exactly? Answer quickly, please,” Ellie retorts.

“El-“ you start, but realize this isn’t anger, but advocacy.

“Well, we sheltered and fed her for over a decade,” your father remarks, smirking like he’s won.

“That’s your job!” Wade argues.

“Mr. and Mrs. L/N… I politely asked that you refrain from visiting the campus, and while I appreciate your concern for Y/N’s well-being, I must ask that you remain respectful of her, her fellow students, and my staff. Causing unnecessary conflict is exactly the reason you were almost banned when you last visited,” Professor Xavier finally speaks.

“Almost banned?!” Wade wheezes.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and Wade’s laughter immediately ceases. “I was cheating in school, according to- To Dad.” The word is poison in your mouth.

“Come on, we all know you’re not smart enough to get those grades on your own. Probably screwing some teacher, just like Mom.”

“That’s enough,” Ellie snarls, eyes glowing orange.

“I never screwed a teacher!” Your mother protests at the same time.

“Oh, that’s right, you just blew Mr. Morin. My bad. Wow, Y/N, you really must be something special for all these alphas to be fawning over you. Maybe I did fuck up once or twice, after all, I’ve heard daddy issues-“

“Well, you visited! Now get the fuck out,” Wade chirps.

“Mr. L/N, must I repeat myself? I know you and Mrs. L/N were interested in a tour. Perhaps a less crowded area would help ease your minds,” Xavier reminds you all of his presence once more.

“That sounds like a great idea,” your father agrees.

“I’m starting to get a bit of a headache, maybe you could show us your room first and I could lie down for a bit in there?”

“I-“ You look to the girls, not wanting them to have to deal with her alone.

“Actually, Miss Phimister and Miss Kitsuna would be perfect additions to a rescue team. The orphanage your friend Russell came from was actually part of a network for mutant trafficking, and we found another hub in Maine. The jet takes off in fifteen minutes, and you two will be back in time for dinner. Better get ready and briefed.”

“But-“ Yukio starts, looking to you.

“Go, be superheroes,” you tell them, and they head out. “Uh, how about we swing by the library first, to give them time to change, and then to our room?”

“You share a room with them? Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“We were roommates before we started dating,” you correct him.

“Dating… Aw, I bet you really think that’s what it is, too. Having parents in a sham of a marriage really did a number on you, huh?” Your father condescends.

“You know, it’s pretty fucked up how fixated you are on her sexuality. Do you like to picture it, you goddamn creep?” Wade defends you, and your skin crawls. You’d never thought of it that way before.

“Let’s just get that tour started, ‘kay?” You squeak. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner they’ll be on their way, hopefully.

“Good idea, Y/N,” Wade says. “Come on, Textbook, let’s go.”

“You didn’t just call me-“

“Oh, but I did, Textbook. Hey, Y/N, did you know that was your dad’s nickname in highschool? ‘Cause he was so fuckin’ easy to shove in a locker.”

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh and failing.

“Just show us the library already, Y/N,” your mother says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You take your parents to the library, as requested. Wade keeps pace with you while your parents fall back. You can’t hear their exact words, but you know your parents are bickering.

“You never said it was this bad.”

“It’s not that bad. It’s definitely been worse,” you admit, busying your eyes with the paintings that line the walls so that you don’t have to meet Wade’s gaze. You might just cry if you do; you can feel the sympathy radiating off of him.

In these past few months, Wade’s been more of a father than your dad, even more of a mother than your mom, but for some reason that doesn’t make you feel more justified in how you feel about your parents. In fact, it just makes you feel worse, and even if you’ve never actually expressed it, you’re still ashamed of the fact that you wish Wade was your father instead. He actually cares, while your parents are simply legally obligated.

From the day you met, Wade’s always been there for you. If you were to tell your parents what you almost did the other day, they’d just call you attention-seeking and insult you in other ways. All they’d do is make you want to try again.

You and Wade stop at the entrance to the library and wait for your parents to catch up. They do, and you open the double doors to reveal the room.

“It’s like Beauty and the Beast,” your mother gapes.

“I thought so, too,” you agree, attempting a smile, but your parents just ignore you, wandering around the large room. Your mother excuses herself after a few minutes of spinning, saying that the dizziness is making her headache worse.

“All these books and you’re still… The way you are,” your father comments, looking at you with such disdain.

“Winner of the science fair with her loving partners, three years in a row?” Wade questions. “Oh, or maybe you’re talking about the fact that she’s a published poet. How embarrassing for you, I’m sure.”

“Wade,” you protest under your breath, embarrassed. They don’t even know that stuff. After middle school, you stopped telling them about your accomplishments. You figured out that all they’d do is ruin them for you.

“No, no, trust me. It’s more about the fact that she’s slutting around with alphas and won’t even save us the embarrassment of them being girls,” you father spats.

“That’s enough,” Wade snarls.

“Oh, that’s right, we can’t forget that she’s yours, too. I guess anything with a dick is daddy considering I was too busy putting food on the table to play dollies,” he remarks, and you suddenly feel light-headed.

“Seriously, Textbook, I really don’t want to hurt you, especially not in front of Y/N, but I fucking will if you make me.”

“Just go,” you urge Wade, starting to feel a bit dizzy, surely from the stress. You brace yourself on him, disguising it as a touch meant to comfort him. He looks concerned as the edges of your vision start to darken a little.“I- What you’re doing, I appreciate it, but-“

“You appreciate it? You appreciate him disrespecting me, disrespecting our family?!”

“Our family?!” You finally snap. “All I ever wanted was for you to love me, and you couldn’t do that. You just couldn’t. And now we’re a family?! No. No, you…” You start to pant, your face feeling even hotter than before. “You… I hate you,” you manage to get out before your world goes completely dark.

“Fuck yeah, Y/N! I’m so prou-“

But when Wade turns to you, you’re halfway to the ground. He catches you, though, and he catches a whiff of something… Familiar.

Lavender. It’s not just the Wilson scent, sure, but it’d be too much of a coincidence. You smell just like him. You are him, or, rather, made of him.

He’s torn between ecstatic and furious.

“Hey, can we get some help over here?” your father calls out to no one. It’s not a school day, and lots of students are out on missions. He reaches out to you for once in your life, but Wade’s now sitting on the floor, cradling you in his arms.

“No,” Wade argues. “Not yours. Mine.”

“What?” You father asks incredulously. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“She’s. Not. Yours,” Wade repeats, and the more he inhales your scent, the more out of control yet calm he feels. Like he’s in the eye of a hurricane. “My baby. Mine.”

“You’re not saying…” your father trails off as Wade gets up, still cradling you. Wade has to take you to your room; help make you a nest, now. He can smell it on you.

You’re in heat.

He gets to your room quickly, practically tossing you onto your bed. Wait… Isn’t your mom supposed to be here?

And that’s when he hears the sound of pills spilling onto the floor.

He nearly rips the bathroom door off of its hinges. Luckily, your mother spilled what Wade quickly realizes is suppressants, and not your prescription.

“You. You could’ve killed her. You are very, very lucky that my baby-“

“Our baby,” your mother corrects.

“No, you take pills, you can’t even smell her, let alone feel her like I can. It- It’s so much it fucking hurts. I’ll say it again, you’re very lucky my baby is in heat, or your arteries would be emptying in that shower. Now, go. Don’t come back.”

You groan in pain, stirring, and your mother takes Wade’s advice. Wade calls Yukio. Then Ellie. Then Yukio. Then Ellie.

“What the fuck, dude?!”

“You need to turn around. Now. I don’t have the time to explain. It’s Y/N.”

“Is she okay?” Ellie, always skeptical, asks.

“Obviously fucking not, or I wouldn’t be calling. She’s in heat.”

“But-“

“I said that I don’t have time to explain, fucking turn around! I’m on the verge of going fucking feral, Ellie. You both need to get here, now.”

“Wade, get out,” Ellie immediately demands.

“I can’t,” he admits.

“Get out! Shit, Wolverine! We need to turn around!”

“I can’t. It’s not like that I swear, it’s… I’m going fucking crazy, just one of you will do, but someone needs to get here.”

“Wade, go.”

“I would never hurt her! Come home!” Wade barks before hanging up. He returns to your room to find you’ve made a nest instinctively - thank goodness for Yukio’s affinity for pillows and blankets - and now you’re curled up in pain in the center of it.

“Wade,” you whimper. He’s scared to step closer, not sure if he’s what you want, even if you despise who you thought was your father. “What’s happening to me? Everything hurts.”

“I really don’t know how to say this, but… You’re in heat.”

“But I’m a beta,” you argue, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That’s what we all thought. But… Remember how you didn’t smell like anything before? Uh, let me start over. When did you start on your anti-depressants?”

“I was about twelve,” you confirm, not sure what that means.

“Yeah, I think those were suppressants. That it’s always been suppressants, no matter what the bottles said. Until you got a prescription without your mother knowing. Do you understand why your mother would do that?”

You shake your head, and he approaches the bed, sitting down carefully as not to disturb your work.

“Her boyfriend around the time she got pregnant with you was a beta. We know him as Textbook,” Wade teases, before continuing: “But, what no one realizes is that he was at Niagara Falls on spring break around the time when you were conceived, and she was hanging out with her next-door neighbor the whole time. Her next-door neighbor was me.”

“Oh, so I’m your highschool mistake,” you say, connecting the dots.

“Huh?”

“Ha, well, whenever my parents- Well, I guess not my parents, but that’s beside the point, uh, whenever they argue and it gets really bad, my father- Well, not my father, but, uh-“

“Continue,” Wade urges.

“Basically, sometimes he uses ‘a mistake I made in highschool’ as code for ‘Y/N,’” you explain. “But the truth is, I’m the mistake you made in highschool.”

“You’re not a mistake,” he disagrees. “You’re- You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. Lots of things are made by accident, but that doesn’t make them mistakes! Penicillin, potato chips, Post-It notes, popsicles! They were never supposed to exist but they do and the world is much better off with them in it.”

“You really do have a lot of useless knowledge,” you realize.

“So do you, that’s why our team always wins trivia night.” Wade slips off his boots, joining you in your rearranged bed. “C’mere,” he suggests, guiding your head to his neck.

“S’really you,” you mumble, already weary, and Wade worries for what’s to come. He almost doesn’t even want to let the girls in. He could get you pain medicine, he could probably even find sedatives. Then no one would ever be able to even touch you, let alone hurt you. “Lavender. You never mentioned the lavender, just the sandalwood.”

“I didn't think you’d be impressed,” Wade admits.

“It’s relaxing,” you tell him. “It’s nice to have things in common with someone.”

“You smell like roses, too, not just lavender,” he makes sure you know.

“Yeah, but I think that’s mostly concentrated in an area I’d rather not discuss with you.”

“Well, just make sure that if you do decide to do anything more with them than cuddle, which I can gladly go through the rest of my life without knowing, bee-tee-dubs, that the girls are wearing alpha condoms, especially if one of them knots you. Standard condoms work in a pinch if it’s just for one, y’know, go, but for heats they’re basically useless because of everything I just said. If they hurt you, I will make their deaths look like accidents.”

“S’not like I can get pregnant anyway…” You mumble, embarrassed. “I’m- I’m really glad it’s you. I- I wished so many times that it was you instead of him. Ow, ugh, that one was bad,” you groan, massaging your stomach.

Meanwhile, on the jet, Ellie is furious with herself.

“Yukio, you don’t get it, I smelled her. She smelled like an omega, but I thought- I assumed she was cheating on us. That maybe she didn’t want to be with us like that was because she wanted to- I don’t know, to be on top? It seems so stupid now.”

“Hey, I noticed she smelled different, too. There were other signs we both missed, anyways. Think about how emotional she’s been lately, or how much farther we’ve been going in other ways. How clingy she’s been, too.”

“I guess I didn’t really notice it because I liked her being more open and needing us more,” Ellie admits. “She- She almost fucking killed herself. And I thought cheating was what she was hiding. I- I just-“

“You can’t beat yourself up over it,” Yukio insists. “We’re on our way back, and Wade’s there to protect her.”

Speaking of Wade being there to protect you, he continues to comfort you as the pain gets worse.

“S’too hot,” you complain, and he releases you from his hold, rising from the bed. He knows he’ll have to leave you soon, because you’re likely going to need privacy before the girls get home, but it’s hard to part from you knowing you’re in pain.

“I’m gonna get you some water, okay? And after that, I’m just gonna stand guard outside the door until your girls get here. I know there’s some stuff you need to do, and that’s only gonna get worse.”

“It’s already awful,” you admit, and he chuckles.

“Good luck, kid. I love you.”

Wade gets a case of bottled water from the school’s industrial-sized pantry, bringing it to your room and tearing it open for you before leaving once more. You take one, immediately guzzling it down.

In privacy, you take off Yukio’s cardigan and your bottoms, leaving you in Ellie’s tee shirt and your underwear. You decide to go ahead and free yourself from the constriction that is your bra, feeling a bit embarrassed that you’re not leaving much to the girls’ imagination for your first time together. You eventually decide to undress completely, wondering when the hell your girls are gonna get here.

[eggrestes]

ladrien fic recs!

there are SO MANY amazing ladrien fics i cant possibly cover them all but here are a few!

(all the ratings used are ao3 ratings)

((this is a very long post!))

FLUFF

Of Ivy and Sunlight by cyanise [ T, 1509 words, 1/1 ]

When Adrien takes to wandering the streets of Paris in ungodly hours, Ladybug has no choice but to keep an eye on him. Still, things are bound to get a little out of hand between two overloaded teenagers with a lot of love and not enough self-control. 

a lovely post-chat blanc fic :’) it has a great flow and is just soft and so sweet and it’s just perfect. gosh i cannot really say more other than read it!!! also almost all of their other stuff is also ladrien so do check it out!

This can't be happening by PlaPla [ T,  6,467 words, 1/2 ]

Ladybug is unsure whether accompanying Adrien to a gala as his not-date is the best or worst thing that has ever happened to her. But when their table mates turn out to be none other than her long time friends Alya and Nino and with Adrien acting weirder and weirder she finds herself with bigger worries than an unrequited crush.

a djwifi/ladrien double date? hit me up! i love identity shenanigans, ball dancing, ladrien, and djwifi and this is a perfect mix for me. i know it’s incomplete but it doesn’t end in a cliff-hanger really, the part 2 is just a promise of more so it doesn’t feel incomplete! PlaPla also has a short oneshot of ladrien going for a motorcycle ride.

Falling again by emsylcatac [ M,  4,506 words, 2 Works ]

They had been dancing around each other for a while now, and while fifteen year old Adrien would have been ecstatic at the idea of dating Ladybug in secret, twenty-two year old Adrien knew better. But Ladybug wasn’t making it easy. It was like… she, too, was falling for him. And that surprisingly enough, she didn’t mind.

* * *

Or Adrien trying (and failing) to keep things professional between him and Ladybug when the two of them partner up for a mission. Older AU

things are a little steamy~ here (don’t worry, it’s only implied it’s very mild and closer to a T rating than the M) but it’s a great mature take on their dynamics! emsy has more ladrien one-shots in her collection of one-shots!

i'd love to go on a date with you by sae_what  [ G,  6,480 words, 1/1 ]

Once it had been falsely announced throughout Paris that Adrien and Ladybug are in a relationship, Ladybug pays him a visit to turn him down gently.

Only, she doesn’t. And instead, she has a formal dinner date. With Adrien. At 8 pm. Tonight.

LADYBUG IN A SUIT!! aaaaaaaaaaaaaa. okay but for real it’s so sweet and also??? they are on a date!!! a rooftop date!! (too man exclamation marks oops)

Always Welcome by  chatonne-rousse [ T, 1,683 words, 1/1 ]

Ladybug knows that Adrien's window is always open for her to swing by and stop in, whether for video games or a chat or, like tonight, for soft kisses and sweet nothings.

He loves these visits. His girlfriend is always welcome. Always. (Especially for kisses.)

Written for Ladrien June, day 8: bluebell eyes.

established relationship, pre-reveal ladrien. there is something very home-y about this fic and it’s all about the comfort and quiet that i adore about it!

Five Times Gabriel Agreste Caught Ladybug in His Son’s Bedroom (and the One Time He Caught Chat Noir) by agrestenoir [ T,  1,923 words, 1/1]

Gabriel Agreste keeps finding Ladybug in his son's bedroom. As a super villain and father, this will not stand.

this crack fic is... honestly so hilarious. it’s all through gabrie-i-am-trying-to-parent-and-failing-a-lot-agreste’s POV so it is so much ridiculous! 

an uncurtain discovery by  Missnoodles [ T, 4,684 words, 1/1 ]

When he returns from school on Wednesday afternoon, Adrien discovers the darkness in his own home. He struggles to come to terms with it. To his utter mortification and delight, Ladybug is nearby to rescue him.

(He does not discover that his father is supervillain. That will happen on a different Wednesday.)

Adrien is being a cat and gets tangled in the curtains on his window and it’s utterly ridiculous. all the bug and the cat tendencies make it funnier and adrien’s inner monologue is just a cherry on top!

secret valentine by a_miiraculer [ T,  12,245 words, 1/1 ]

this is the moment that we will come alive brace yourself for love sweet love, secret love

If Adrien had known that getting himself stuck in a tree would end like this, he would've gotten himself stuck sooner.

A drabble series.

i just,,,, don’t have words for how much i love it! it’s ridiculous, it’s cute, it’s funny, it’s whole-some and just ladrien. the writer also has a M rated multi-chapter ladrien kissing (no the M is very much real here) and a heroic adrien and ladybug one-shot too! 

Those Benevolent Stars by peachcitt [ G,  23,696 words, 3/3 ]

“Will you come back?”

She looked up at the deep blue sky, as if she could somehow find the answer there. “I shouldn’t,” she said, shaking her head and looking back at him. But the stars were still there, caught in her eyes, and Adrien persisted.

“But will you?”

or

adrien meets his soulmate, a thief who calls herself ladybug. he falls for her, but she seems determined to maintain a space between them.

oh my god this au.... just no words!! it’s poetry and it’s tender and it’s about the yearning and just!!! perfect :’). Her current ongoing ladrien june fic is also akin to this (and the fic i linked before it) so do check it out too! (literally check out all of their works it’s so beautiful)

Flowers on the Window Sill by LNC [ G,  2,144 words, 1/1 ]

The first time Ladybug saw him, really saw him, the universe stopped.

this fic feels like poetry and it’s so lovely. LNC is always short and direct but it always hits right in the feels while also being hilarious. Her  other ladrien works are just as good and i highly recommend going through them because it fulfills all of the ladrien needs (along with Reiaji)

whatever a sun will always sing is you by komorebirei [ T,  32,980 words, 37/37 ]

“I didn't think you'd actually... do anything," Adrien admitted, cheeks prickling with warmth. "I-I mean, I never expected... I didn't know you watched my interviews.” That definitely wasn’t how he'd imagined confessing to Ladybug.

“Of course I do!” Ladybug squeaked. “Uhh, that is…” She looked down at her hands, nervously turning her yo-yo over, over and over. “Maybe you’re not the only one with a crush.”

(After an unexpected confession, Ladybug and Adrien start dating in secret. A progressive character- and relationship-study quilted from drabbles, with the intention of digging treasure out of the cove that is Ladrien. Written using kashimalin-fanfiction's kiss writing prompts from Tumblr.)

it does such an excellent job at exploring this dynamic along with the characters. it’s such a sweet fic, each chapter short and fun!

ANGST

whose woods these are (I think I know.) by  Reiaji [ T,  105,000 words, 25/25 ]

Four years after his future turns to cinders, Adrien is a servant in the house he was meant to inherit. Disowned by his father and abused by his stepmother, his days are filled with drudgery until he meets a masked huntress in the forest behind his father's chateau.

As his friendship with Ladybug turns to first love, he dreams of a future spent at her side.

Then, on the eve of the Princess's masquerade, he meets his guardian—and is granted a wish.

[Ladrien Cinderella AU]

Warnings: Child abuse, Graphic depiction of violence

this is absolutely gorgeous. it has so many troupes and so many amazing character arc and great build up and everything just flows so well. it left me in awe for weeks and i just. want to experience reading it for the first time again. look at this gorgeous art inspired by this! {and you have to read  leonard bernstein too because LETTERS and LADRIEN and YEARNING}

i would do it again (oh, a thousand times) by bugabisous [ T, 2,266 words, 1/1 ]

Knowing you can bring someone back doesn’t mean you’re free of the pain of seeing them disappear before your eyes. He can’t imagine he’ll be able to look at her directly without replaying every horrifying moment when he felt her slip away in a puff of smoke.

When it happens once again, he already knows he’ll be trying again. He just can’t give up.

it expands on adrien’s feelings in the episode desperada (my beloved <3) and it is just ouch. such great angst, such great potential. the kind of tragedy that it offers is unusual for ml (it gets only rivaled by chat blanc tbh). to rival this angst bugabisous also has a fluffy one-shot :)

when the world gets too heavy (put it on my back) by Taliax [ T, 4,720 words, 1/1 ]

Chat Noir isn't allowed to cry over his father. But even when he's just Adrien, Ladybug won't abandon him.

Hawkmoth reveal hurt/comfort + Ladrien

the plagg and adrien bond written is just perfect, and oh this hits right in the feels :’) it hurts all in the right way. tali also has so many other ladrien works in all genres too

By Your Side by omniousunflower [ T, 4,361 words, 1/1 ]

(Angry and alone, Adrien waits on top of the Eiffel Tower for his lady.)

“So, how did my kitty get stranded up here?” Ladybug asks.

Groaning, Adrien pulls his knees toward his chest and presses his face against them. “Because he’s stupid and impulsive.”

“Chasing pigeons, then?”

“No.” Shame burns in Adrien’s veins, white-hot now that Ladybug is here to witness his stupidity. “I threw my Miraculous, and Plagg wouldn’t get it for me.”

post-hawkmoth defeat, and adrien is not doing well at all. i am cheating because it is post reveal, pre relationship but it’s still ladrien. this fic is a roller coater of emotions, starting from a slightly crack scenario to a cute, awkward, hopeful ending.  More Than You Know is another of sunny’s angsty ladrien work!

Breaking The Rules (AKA The Ladrien Fistfight) by ThisKwamiNeeds_aNap [ T, 8,714 words, 1/1 ]

Marinette may or may not be dying, but she’s still going to do her best to fix every single problem in the world. She’s not expecting Adrien to be the one who tries to stop her. (Takes place immediately after Kwami Buster)

Warnings: panic attack, broken bones, PTSD. please read the tags!

*slaps this fic* this fic can fit in so much angst. it just?? left me in PAIN oof. it says ‘ladrien fistfight’ on the lid but nooo there is marinette is just having a freak out and it’s all so much??!! and it’s not just marinette there is adrien too and chloe and alya and- wow it’s amazing. love it so much it fills up my angst needs :’)

so that’s it for now! my personal commentary isn’t impressive nor does it do justice to the fic but i still hope you read a few of these!! happy reading!!

[themusicplayedherlife]

To Love is the Greatest Gift

1. The Return

pairing: obi wan kenobi x f!reader (past!din djarn x f!reader) characters: f!reader, anakin amidala-skywalker, padmé amidala-skywalker, mentiones of din djarin, obi wan kenobi, others word count: 2.6k+ warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of rent: the musical (death, second chances) uh... I think that’s it? summary: au!it’s never been the right timing for you and obi wan kenobi; maybe this time will be different. a/n: i started working on this story so long ago it’s ridiculous, but I suddenly had a surge of motivation to continue this story after some tragic family news. this was also very much inspired by @martlands and their amazing obi wan stories, made me want to write my own and here it is

all || next

“You broke up?”

One would think that the immediate reaction to someone asking if you broke up with your significant other would be to cry or begin to ask them what could have possibly gone wrong. But that’s not the reaction you give. 

The reaction you give is just a shrug and a strong pop, as you spoon more gelato onto the little spoon his twins love collecting. “Yep.”

“After only three weeks of dating?” Anakin doesn’t know why he’s surprised, but he is. This is probably the shortest living relationship you’ve ever had. “Why?”

“Why not?” you answer easily, nonchalantly and you know it frustrates him. “It wasn’t working out, so we decided to call it quits.”

Not even a month ago, you had been genuinely excited about finally getting out there and meeting someone new, and even more excited when you were telling him all about this person you met while out with some old friends. You had said, word for word, “he might be the perfect contender!”

Where did all that excitement go?

You sigh, finally looking up at him and away from your white chocolate gelato that's just to die for. “Ani, it’s fine. It just didn’t work out. It happens.”

He grimaces. “What happened between you and Din—“

You bristle at the mention of your ex, narrowing your eyes and his widen in defense. You know what Anakin and Padmé think of him and it’s not entirely pleasant (particularly from Anakin’s part). It’s completely unfair. Din is lovely, sure a little socially awkward, but lovely nonetheless. “Has nothing to do with why Gar and I ended things.”

“But—“

“Nothing,” you reiterate with a bit more force and he sighs, lifting his hands in defeat while holding his own cup of gelato.

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry.” And then, like a light switching, he turns playful. “Was it his name that turned you off—Gar?”

You resist the urge to groan and roll your eyes. “Oh maker, you are annoying!”

You huff as you make the trek back to the trolley that’ll take you both up to the observatory. The rest of your conversation is forgotten as he navigates it towards continuing to tease you and the latest exhibit you had helped set up.

The Coruscant Observatory is one of the most popular attractions in the city aside from the Exotic Animal Sanctuary (where most zoologist work to help rehabilitate wild animals before reintroducing them back into the wild, only housing the ones that have been assessed to not be able to function in the wild on their own—which are unfortunately many).

Your place of work is known for its large, ground telescope; its monthly constellation exhibits; the multiple planetarium theater rooms that house lectures, activities, star projections, etc.; and its Astronomer Q&A program where visitors can ask astronomers questions and even get a tour of the space station.

However, most of your days are spent in your office, planning for the next exhibit or actually executing them with your team; meanwhile, Anakin spends them in tech, sometimes maintaining the telescope, other times helping with IT issues, but mostly making sure the theater rooms worked perfectly for their 4D immersion.

(You like to joke that out of the two of you, he has it easiest; sometimes he’ll run by your office to get to another part of the building while you’re doing something and you’ll yell out, “slacker” and he’ll respond with, “you just work too much”.)

“Are Padmé and the twins stopping by today?”

“Not today, maybe tomorrow,” he says as you both step out of the trolley along with a few tourists. “I think today they decided to stay for some school thing.”

“Shouldn’t you know what that school thing is?” you chide him out of jest.

He scowls, there’s hardly any heat in it and it makes you grin. “It’s a music performance that the CN Theater is putting on.”

“Ah, and we all know how much musicals bores you.”

“I just don’t understand them,” he murmurs defensively as you climb the few steps leading to the entrance. The two of you smiling and greeting Rex at his security post and bypassing the ticket gate with your IDs.

“You mean you don’t have any taste,” you tease.

“It’s weird! I mean, most of them are all about tragedies and betrayals. What happened to the good ol’ romance and happy endings?”

“Not all of them are tragedies, Casanova.”

The main rotunda lobby is full of people milling about, looking at maps or the foucault pendulum in the middle of the room. Low chatter fills the room, shoes clicking and clacking against the marble flooring.

“Name one.”

Spotting the trash can and recycle bin, Anakin holds his hand out for your disposable cup and spoon and throws them away in their proper bin.

“Rent.” There are probably better examples, but you had been listening to the original cast album the night before and have all the songs still stuck in your head.

“Don’t two characters die?”

“Angel and Mimi.” You nod. “But Mimi is brought back to life by Angel, and is given a second chance at life.”

“She may have been brought back to life, but that doesn’t take away from the fact she died.”

“I’m not arguing with you on that, I’m just saying the ending was hopeful—not necessarily a happy ending, but it left you thinking—maybe things can get better.”

“And that’s not what I’m looking for. I’m looking for—“

“What you and Padmé have?” you ask him as you both reach the door of your office.

He pauses, mouth opening and closing before finally rubbing the back of his head sheepishly and saying, “Yeah.”

You smile, genuine and happy for your childhood friend. Who would’ve thought that years ago when you introduced them, they’d be here years later—married and with twins. You and Anakin sure as hell didn’t. For most of your childhood, you both believed you’d live out your life on Tatooine, hang with the same friends you’ve known since your pre-kinder days and eventually get married to each other—much to the dismay of your parents—because of benefits or whatever, until your parents decided they wanted to send you off to a private school in one of the major cities, derailing your and Anakin’s plan (for the better, if you’re being honest).

“You’re still coming over for dinner, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer, unlocking your office door with your key. “I have a meeting that might go over the expected time, but I should be able to make it on time.”

“Just let us know,” he says, rapping his knuckles against the door frame. “But you better be there! We have some planning to do!”

You roll your eyes and wave him away, promising he and his family will definitely see you at five. With a hearty chuckle he salutes you and leaves the door slightly ajar, just like you usually do. It’s your “you can come in to ask me questions, but knock first, please” visual telling.

With a soft exhale, you drop yourself into your creaking office chair, eyes landing on the first picture on your right—a younger you, only 18, fresh out of your uniform smiling wildly with a large bouquet of flowers that you can still distinctly remember the smell of.

“I am in love!” Padmé exclaimed, squealing in absolute delight at the flowers put in your hand.

Blue eyes crinkled with amusement, staring down at you. “Are you?” His voice was low, teasing and almost smug. He had obviously heard the gasp that escaped your lips when he presented you the colorful bouquet created with your favorite flowers that his father grew in their little garden.

“Irrevocably,” you answered, not able to hide your smile as you gently held it against your chest and smiled up at him. “They’re beautiful, Obi. Thank you.”

Obi Wan’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder, caught in the action of a booming laughter. He was always laughing in pictures. There isn’t a single picture you have of him that he isn't smiling.

Your finger gently trails over his smiling face. Maker, you miss him.

Is he still traveling? Or has he finally settled down again? Will he show up and spring some unexpected news on you again? Stars, you hope not. Shit didn’t go as planned last time and it probably wouldn’t again.

Your hand falls limply and you swivel in your seat, looking out the large glass window overlooking the majority of the city and sigh softly—an exhale of wary hope and sadness.

A bird soars by your window, it’s wings flapping effortlessly, diving before flying higher and away.

He’s not coming back. You know this. Coruscant just isn’t the same anymore. Not when he feels this city has taken everything from him.

One more year visiting Gui Gon without him.

The meeting runs longer than it usually would, just like you had expected. Checking the time, you let out a curse and quickly throw your belongings into your car.

Without wasting time, as soon as you switch on your engine, you place your phone on the dock and say, “Hey C-3PO, call Padmé.”

“Calling Padmé,” your phone’s AI answers through the speakers of your car.

“Are you outside?” Is how she greets you. There are loud noises in the background, children squabbling about something or another, and Anakin’s weary voice trying to rally them. 

You snort, pulling out of the undergroundparking lot. “Not yet, barely got out of my meeting and am on my way.”

“Please hurry, the twins really want to see you and are dying from hunger,” she says, amusement in her voice and not at all trying to hurry you. “They might start eating Anakin soon.”

“Hey, don’t bite that!” He yells from a distance.

“Hurry, please!” you hear over the phone—Luke. “I miss you,” he says, closer now. Which you immediately reply saying you miss him too, almost cutting off the next voice.

“And I’m hungry!” Leia’s voice follows his, practically yelling into the phone.

You laugh fondly, just imagining the childish glee on their faces at your scandalized gasps and your exaggerated “me too” answers.

“Leia, no yelling,” Padmé scolds her, gentle and kind. “Softer, please.”

“Sorry,” she says. “I’m hungry,” she repeats, softer, almost a whisper.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be there,” you promise. “If not, you have my permission to start eating your dad.”

Leia and Luke break into a fit of laughter, yelling something away from the phone to Anakin, who once again lets out a loud, “Hey!”

Padmé chuckles, moving away from the voices of the children tackling their father and their play fighting. “Take your time, we’re not in any hurry to start eating. The kids had a hearty lunch and a snack after school.”

“What about you and Anakin?”

“We’re fine, don’t worry. Just get here safely and we’ll see you soon.”

You end the call with one last reassurance from her and let out a loud sigh when your car comes to a stop behind a long line of glaring red lights—traffic. You hate traffic.

You might be surrounded by blinding lights and different models of vehicles, but it leaves you alone with your thoughts, the low hum of your engine and music from your stereo drowned out by the chattering in your head. 

It’s never just one thing that you think about. It can go from one thing to another, to all of them trying to climb over eachother and be the most present: your friends; your family; the dog next door; Din and Baby; cinnamon apple cookies; the beach house in Naboo; sneaking out of the prep dormitories at 2am with Padmé keeping an eye out and Obi Wan holding his arms out for you; rose gardens and peach tea; freckles on blushing skin; drunken singing in a small living room; 21st birthdays crying in a bathroom stall; that stupid movie quote about choosing life; death; but sometimes (most occurring) it’s Obi Wan that weaves into every thought.

He’s a constant plague in your mind, has been since the first time he left Coruscant in search of himself. 

Sometimes they’re pleasant thoughts, memories kept in a nostalgic trunk that you occasionally like to sift through. Other times, they’re not so pleasant; those are the ones you constantly struggle with, try to push into the recesses of your mind and keep them under lock and key. But for some stupid, strange reason, your mind only ever remembers the bad, even when there are better things to dwell on.

“I just—I just don’t understand why you have to leave—Obi. Obi!” you practically yelled, watching him move around his room, grabbing and throwing things he pulled out into his duffel bag. “Listen to me!” 

He didn’t stop, not until you reached for his duffel bag and plucked it out from his hands. He stared at you, his duffel bag carelessly thrown to the floor with his clothes spilling out. 

Your breathing was labored, a sick feeling swimming in your stomach, words stuck in your throat now that he wasn’t hiding his beautiful blue eyes from you—his devastatingly heartbroken eyes. “I have to,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “I need to leave. This house—this city, it's suffocating me. I can’t—I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Obi… Obi, please.” You can’t leave me. You can’t! Please! Please, Obi.

“I need to do this for me, darling. I’m sorry.”

You should’ve fought harder that night, should’ve convinced him to stay, but instead you helped him pack again with tears obstructing your view and sobs escaping your lips. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have lost him.

No, your breath stutters as you lean back into your car seat, there was nothing you could’ve done. Either times. He had made up his mind long before that night.

A car honks their horn to your left and you jump, eyes focusing once more on the red lights of the car in front of you. You wipe at your face harshly and straighten your spine. 

That was years ago, little one. Shake it off. 

Sighing softly, you look up at the street name and make a turn onto the Skywalker residence street, your shoulders relaxing when their two story home comes into view.  

Shake it off.

Parking isn't easy to find in their neighborhood, not when it’s so close to the observatory and some of the most visited parks in the area, but you manage to find one just two cars away from their house. 

Gathering your things, you lock the door behind you and quickly make your way down the sidewalk, phone in your hand and typing out a message that you’re here.

It’s while you’re hitting send that you don’t notice the body in front of you, staring up at the house with an almost wary expression on his face, or how his eyes widen when they see you. It’s not until you collide into his body, soft with a fleece cardigan, that you notice him. Embarrassment begins to boil in your blood as you quickly apologize to him, berating yourself for not being more aware of your surroundings.

“Kriff, I’m so sorry—“ you start, but the apology catches in your throat when you look up.

“Hello, there.” Blue eyes, so soft and kind, like the ones you once used to dream of stare back at you—so unlike the pair of eyes you saw years ago. “It’s been a long time, darling.”

You can’t shake him off.

next

[sleepless-in-starbucks]

14 (bodyguard AU) and 46 (blind date) sounds fun,,, your choice of ship ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥

14. Bodyguard AU || 46. Blind date

Random choice generator got me creativisleep!

~

roman's a semi-popular actor- he's never really been to an awards show, and he's not been in That much, but he had a small but strong role in a real popular film and plenty of leading ones in lesser known movies. he's got enough of a following to be satisfied with himself, even if it isn't That huge of one

because of this, roman didn't take the possible dangers of his fame seriously... until he got jumped by one fan at a play in his hometown. he came out fine (he's always fine ;p) but it made him reconsider his choice to not have some sort of protection

he ends up hiring remy to be his bodyguard, a choice he Slightly starts regretting when he realizes remy, despite having excellent marks out of bodyguard school, is about as professional as a golden retriever

they take roman's food out of his fridge Whenever, borrow Way too many of his shirts (and roman hasn't seen his BMC 'boyf riends' hoodie since they got their hands on it), and is never in typical bodyguard wear (they wore a suit for the interview and never again)

but they also bring roman coffee (when did they get his regular figured out...?), talk to him like he's just a Person and not a celeb, and have yet to try and kill him themself so. roman's alright with them staying

(plus, is it so wrong if roman enjoys how they look? he deserves for a bit of an eye-candy sorta bodyguard, damnit, they're with him all the time after all)

remy's been with roman as his bodyguard for a few months when roman decides he cant just keep Lookin at a pretty person, he deserves to have a pretty person to kiss and cuddle with too!! so he pokes around for a bit, finds a non-homophobic service (he's pan, so he could Technically use a plain ol' straight service, but he refuses on gay principle), and uses it

idk how datin apps work but this one that im makin up is a blind match up app, which takes ur information and uses it to randomly pair u up with random accounts. the app keeps account info privated until After the first date has been gone on, to really maintain the 'blind match' aspect. the matched up people play a mini guessing game through the app about places they can go for a date until location and time is determined

roman likes the idea of the app mostly to keep his own identity secret as long as possible- he doesnt want people pickin his account Just bc he's a celeb, y'know?

the first couple of blind dates dont go well tho... most are nice people who roman just isn't compatible with, one was a straight woman who spent the entire date being Very homophobic despite roman's rainbow heart + pan flag pins, and someone who was clearly Too Much Of A Fan (remy had to physically pull them off of roman and help him escape the park before they could latch back on)

oh, did roman not mention? remy's been coming on all his dates with him

because of course they are! they need to protect roman! whether that's by eating dinner in the booth over or sitting two rows back at the cinema or awkwardly half-stalkin roman and his date while they walk about

so they're always there, to bring roman there and take him home, and listen when he complains about the bad matches and lament the almost-winners, and convince him he is a catch that needs to try again because eventually Someone will realize he really is too good to pass up

(remy always says that line in a weird way)

so he keeps trying... until roman has possibly the worst date ever

because he gets stood up. it's fifteen minutes past the scheduled date time, he's gotten no text explainin where they are, but he's sittin at the restaurant alone and starting to become rather upset by the pitying look the server gives him when he says he's still waitin on someone else before he orders

remy slides into the seat across from him at the 20 minute mark. shoots roman an apologetic smile that an outsider would mistake as a 'sorry im late' one when roman knows it's a 'sorry they didnt show' one

roman appreciates the gesture to save him, but he almost just wants to go home at this point. he's tired and bein stood up feels like Shit, actually, and he's about ready to call off the whole dating thing really, dramatic as that may be (like it's not his middle name)

but remy says smth about this place having really good sandwiches, and it's clear they're tryin so hard to help roman out here, even a little, and roman can't just dismiss that effort, so he picks up his menu again and orders smth and tries to ignore the way his face heats up just the slightest at the relieved smile remy flashes next

lunch with remy is great, actually, better than it would've been with whoever couldnt be bothered to show or apologize or Anything. remy even knows the way to an ice cream shop on the way home, sayin it's for roman's 'broken heart' as they pay for it

except, well... roman's heart isn't feelin so broken anymore

it's actually feeling pretty put together. really functional. functioning really fast. especially when roman's looking at remy. or when remy's lookin at roman. or when they smile. or when they laugh. or when they speak. or when they-

roman doesn't fall asleep until 2am that night, heart still racing a bit, screaming into his pillow a bit as he acknowledges he is wholly and totally head-over-heels for his bodyguard

he tells remy the next day he's done with dating for a bit, saying he's still upset over being stood up. he doesn't mention that it's also bc remy's ruined all other people for him

things try to fall back in routine from there, but it's a bit harder when roman's trying to not be so in love with someone who just works for him. and remy's definitely started pickin up on it too- they had asked him just last if he was okay, that he didn't seem as upset by remy takin his clothes anymore, and that didn't seem like him, was he getting sick?

the opposite, actually, absolutely nothing makes me feel better then seeing you walk around in my shirt or jacket or whatever else, please never stop and also kiss me?

roman just said he was tired

eventually... roman decides this can't keep going on. remy's giving him more weird looks these days, and roman is pretty sure being around remy so much without Any kisses is starting to cause brain decay (it's not, it's really not, remy always bein on his mind is just a side effect of.... pretti........). so, he takes matters into his own hands

admittedly, maybe firing remy wasn't the best way to go, given remy immediately demands to know why, what they did wrong, even asking if roman's being blackmailed into this

"blink once for yes, twice for no" remy asks, lowering the sunglasses they always have on to look directly at roman's eyes

roman doesn't blink for a full minute. he might not be breathing for that minute either. has he ever seen remy's eyes this close? has he ever seen them at all? they're such a brilliant shade of brown. roman could drown in them. he might be already

roman's pretty sure he started this conversation standing up, but maybe not, because when he finally blinks and remembers things outside of remy's eyes exist he's sitting down and remy looks extremely concerned

"okay... what's wrong, hun?" they ask, and oh no, they look so sad, and worried, and that's not good, roman should fix that right now, regardless of whatever he was doing before (he's forgotten)

"im gay" he responds intelligently. this will fix everything

remy, however, just looks confused. "yes?"

"for you" roman adds, helpfully, sure that Now remy will understand they're just really very pretty and nothing's wrong and if they feel bad still they should look in a mirror because then they'll be good again

now it's remy's turn to sit in silence, expression frozen in one of shock. they still havent put their sunglasses back on, so roman doesnt mind, bc this gives him more time to stare at remy's eyes

"you're having a breakdown because you're gay for me???" remy finally asks, expression unfreezing to look incredulous and a little hurt

roman returns a similar look. "im not having a breakdown!"

remy scoffs. "yeah, sure, right, that's why you suddenly froze and completely stopped breathing and minorly collapsed after i... look off my shades to look at you..." they suddenly break out in a smirk. "oh my gods, you're a gay disaster"

roman doesn't try to deny it, especially with the knowledge he apparently did stop breathing to admire remy's eyes. they have a point

"how long?"

"since that date you hijacked after i got stood up" roman admits. he finds it extraordinarily rude when remy starts laughing

...until they're pulling out their phone, hurriedly opening up the exact same dating app roman had been using, showing a log of all the dates they had planned- there's only one marked as having actually been attended

same date time and place of the one where roman had assumed he had been stood up

"you broke my heart!" roman says as remy puts away their phone, over-dramatically, not actually giving a damn, just feeling gay and a bit giddy at the thought remy hadnt gone to any of the other dates, just theirs

no longer worried quite as much about roman for the moment, remy's smirk just grows, smoothly moving from being crouched in front of roman to being set firmly in his lap, lazily brushing hair out of his eyes and wow was remy always this warm? and stunning? and perfect?

"i dunno babe... sounds more like i stole it" remy teases, movin from playing with roman's hair to cuppin his cheek, leaning in close and not even bothering to pretend to be looking at anything other than roman's lips. "which, yeah, bad bodyguard etiquette... i hope you can forgive me..."

roman doesn't need his words to answer that tease

[azucanela]

DIVINE INTERVENTION [PT 3] OIKAWA TOORU

DIVINE INTERVENTION MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: Everything is perfectly fine. Aside from the fact that Iwaizumi cannot know by any means at all. Ever. Oikawa isn’t looking to die. 

WORD COUNT: 2.2k

WARNINGS: unedited, arguing, 

A/N: i know exactly where i want this story to go but i have no idea how im going to get there. anywho, enjoy some of this 

RULE #1

The rules were simple. And if Y/N was honest, their establishment... made sense. In fact, it had been one of few things Oikawa had done that was actually intelligent— though this excluded volleyball; even if Y/N was annoyed by his antics at times and considered him a fool, his skill in the game was practically unparalleled. And for that, she respected him

Not that she would ever admit it, of course.

The whole purpose was to set boundaries for this little thing they agreed to do— because yes, Y/N had managed to convince Oikawa to go along with her plan. These boundaries would ensure nobody was uncomfortable with the arrangement and hopefully preserve Y/N and Oikawa’s friendship. They’d both seen this trope in an endless number of romantic comedies, and decided that they would be the exception, especially since they were just movies, right? Right.

If Y/N was honest though, she had no idea how she convinced Oikawa to agree to this. But, she’d managed it. However, their little agreement had come with... a few other issues that had to be handled, especially if things were to go as planned. Said plan being to fake the end of their equally fake relationship in one of the coming months and hope nobody ever found out about it. Unless Y/N decided that a little more... divine intervention was called for of course. 

After all, that’s how they got into this mess. And she sincerely doubted the break up would keep away his psychotic fans. Y/N was fairly sure there would be a few home wreckers as well; people trying to ruin their (fake, something Y/N reminded herself of once more) relationship. And those who wouldn’t wait even a week before trying to make passes at Oikawa when they did break up.

So, maybe Y/N would search for ways to extend the fake dating, but only for Oikawa’s sake. Until they found... a more permanent solution.

Right.

Regardless, that wasn’t the only issue they had. This very plan of theirs is how they ended up avoiding Iwaizumi Hajime like the plague.

Seeing as he was both their best friends, there were a few problems here. The first being the simple fact that no matter how hard Oikawa tried— Iwaizumi Hajime had always been capable of reading him like an open book. It was funny, really. Someone so talented in manipulations meets someone who can see past all that, the only other person he’d encountered with such abilities happened to be the one he’d been handling this with. Y/N. 

Her problem was similar. She and Iwaizumi had always been close, meaning he would know. If they slipped up just once, then it would be abundantly clear that they were in fact, not dating. 

It had been one of few rules that they both had agreed on almost instantaneously. Though Y/N found herself curious as to why Oikawa had been so complacent with it, seeing as Iwaizumi was his best friend, she’d been fairly desperate in the moment to maintain her reputation. That and the fact that Iwaizumi likely would’ve bullied her rather relentlessly, and if he did know, he’d chew them both out for being stupid.

Oikawa’s reasoning was similar. Kind of. He had a decent idea of what awaited him if he told Iwaizumi. One thing being a fist to the face, the second was a long conversation that followed said violence. 

Which is how their little fake dating operation became a hide-everything-from-Iwaizumi operation.

“What do we do?”

Y/N looked to him incredulously, shrugging her shoulders awkwardly as she struggled for words, “how am I supposed to know?” She exclaims, still seated in his driveway. Soon, Iwaizumi would walk past to find that Y/N had already arrived and then they’d have to start their walk to school.

This would be more difficult than anticipated.

“I don’t know Y/N, maybe because this is your fault!” Comes Oikawa’s response, hand threading through his hair. “You have the story down right?”

Y/N raises a brow at him, they’d discussed a few possible stories as to how they’d begun dating in secret. Most of the ones that Oikawa had pitched ended up rather... cliché. “You are not making me tell Iwaizumi that Hallmark bull—”

“Well you didn’t offer a better story, did you?” He snaps, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “

Y/N offers him a tight lipped smile, “because I happen to excel at improv.”

Okay, maybe the whole fake dating thing had caused a small rift between Y/N and Oikawa as well. Or just, the entire friend group. Seeing as the pair was at odds, and their mediator was out of the loop, things had become rather chaotic. Very, very fast. 

“You are horrible a acting Y/N.” Comes Oikawa’s response, bringing his hand to the bridge of his nose as he exhaled deeply. “We’re screwed.”

Y/N scoffed, “with that attitude we definitely are.” Though Y/N almost frowns, Oikawa had become significantly... meaner ever since this had occurred. And though Y/N understood that she’d messed up, his behavior was just... off. In an attempt to shake her mind of these thoughts, she grabs Oikawa’s backpack from off the edge of the sidewalk, opening it to pull out a bag of chips he’d brought, “we just need something consistent and simple. Like, you’ve been in love with me since we met and confessed after a lot of contemplation.”

Now, Oikawa was well aware of his new attitude, though he hoped it could be written off as simple annoyance of the situation. He was just looking for a way to handle the simple fact that he was not prepared for this, at all. The thoughts in the back of his mind, the ones he’d buried—or more accurately, thought he’d buried— were resurfacing. And what better way to combat them then by starting a small rivalry until this was over.

“Yes, that makes perfect sense, thank you.” 

Sadly, Y/N had already proved to be one who didn’t really handle such attitudes well. As seen with the girl that she’d punched in the face just a few days earlier. So naturally, any thoughts of avoiding confrontation, went out the window at the sound of Oikawa’s tone. “What is up with you Oikawa, you’ve–”

“Hey guys.” 

Leave it to Iwaizumi to mess up a perfectly good confrontation. Though Y/N can’t help but feel simultaneously relieved by this fact, and stressed as Iwaizumi is here. 

“Iwa-Chan! Iwaizumi! How are you, buddy!” Oikawa exclaimed, making his way over to his friend to pat him on the back.

It felt as though they’d have to be walking on eggshells. Something that had never really been evident in their friendship until now, seeing as they’d all been fairly open. Of course there were a few things, that Y/N couldn’t help but feel reminded of now, almost wincing at the painful reminder of middle school. 

Their group hadn’t been doing so well then. And it had quickly become apparent to Y/N that she was out of the loop, and seeing as she’d been the new addition to the pair... it hadn’t been a nice feeling. 

“Let’s go then?” Y/N asked, looking between the two boys with a tight lipped smile on her face as she rose from her spot on the sidewalk. Opening the bag of chips as she pulled her backpack over her shoulder. 

Maybe it was wrong, but she also felt nice, knowing that for once— she was on the inside. Even though middle school was years ago, Y/N could tell there was something the pair still hadn’t told her. It’d been bugging her ever since they’d arrived at Aoba Johsai.

Alas, now wasn’t the time for that.

“We should probably discuss some things first.” 

There it was.

Oikawa exhaled deeply, opening his mouth in preparation for whatever conversation they were about to have, attempting to decide which explanation was most plausible. But, Iwaizumi beats him to it. 

“I’m happy for you guys.” 

Y/N blanks for a moment before saying, “what?”

Iwaizumi looks to her incredulously as he responds, “what? Am I not supposed to be happy that you two have finally handled the clearly unresolved tension and that—”

“Alright that’s enough, Iwa-Chan.” Oikawa exclaims, laughing breathily as he brings a hand to cover his friends mouth, only for Iwaizumi to look at him dully before shoving him away. 

Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi adjusts his backpack on his shoulders, “anyways. I just wish you guys had told me sooner but...” He shrugs, turning around to begin their walk down the street and to their school. “It is what it is, now let’s go.” 

Y/N and Oikawa exchange looks, eyes wide as they do so. Both their mouthes gaping open as they scramble to follow Iwaizumi, who finally says, “just don’t let this change anything. And I guess you two can act—” He awkwardly gestures between the pair, “couple-y around me. Just don’t do anything pervy, Shittykawa.” 

Oikawa brings a hand to his chest, feigning offense as he comes to stand beside Iwaizumi, “why would I do anything pervy? Honestly you would be shocked by my dear girlfriend’s actions—”

“I don’t want to know, Oikawa!” Iwaizumi exclaims, shoving his friend away.

Y/N can’t help the way her cheeks warm as Oikawa is launched her way by Iwaizumi’s attack, he stumbles slightly, ultimately walking between her and Iwaizumi before throwing an arm over her shoulders. Though Oikawa’s eyes meet hers momentarily when he does so, a silent question within them. All it takes is a nod and his arm is resting completely on her shoulders and he’s back to his conversation with Iwaizumi as Y/N contemplated all her life decisions. 

Oikawa wouldn’t deny that it had gone better than anticipated but he already knows it’s coming when they arrive at the school and Iwaizumi is practically yanking him backwards as Y/N makes her way inside to speak with her other friends— who’d begun to swarm her almost immediately, questions leaving their mouthes rapidly as they searched for an explanation. 

Y/N can’t help but feel overwhelmed as her actual friends; the ones that are both curious and concerned, seeing as Y/N swore she would never date Oikawa Tooru and fall for her best friend. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with Oikawa— aside from the fact that he had numerous insecurities and emotions that he refused to discuss even when it was clear everything overwhelmed him—it made sense that so much of the school was practically in love with him when you thought about it.

He had manners, decent grades, was a star athlete, and even Y/N could admit he was attractive. But... he was one of her closest friends and the idea of dating him just seemed... 

Wrong.

Aside from the shock from her real friends, there was the nosiness from the fake friends, the ones she’d never spoken to, the ones who had suddenly decided they were the best of friends and yet spoke trash about Y/N in their free time because she stole their precious Oikawa.

Yeah, the school was just a tad toxic. As if the grueling pressure of academics and intense obsession with Oikawa wasn’t enough of a red flag.

Sometimes, Y/N wishes she had gone to Shiratorizawa. 

“I feel like you know what I’m going to say, Oikawa.” Iwaizumi mutters with a sigh, leaving Oikawa to panic as he meets his friend’s eyes. The grip on his shoulder unnecessarily tight. “I don’t necessarily know what’s going on with you two— just that it’s weird. But I swear if you hurt Y/N in any shape or form—”

“I would never do that Iwaizumi.” Comes his reply, almost instantly. 

Iwaizumi pauses, eyes falling on Y/N who nervously laughs in the distance, her eyes pleading for his help before returning her attention to the group of people surrounding her. “I thought we got past this in middle school.”

“Me too, Iwa-Chan. Me too. But hey, lucky me.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, uncapping his water bottle, “yeah. Lucky you, I’ll forever wonder how you got her to date you.”

“Good question.” Oikawa’s eyes fall onto Y/N, and he turns to Iwaizumi, “now. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go save my girlfriend from all of my psychotic fans.” Oikawa would never admit it, ever, but it had only been a week since Y/N pulled her little stunt and it had become evident that a relationship really was what Oikawa needed to get people off his back.

Things had definitely improved for him, and Oikawa could only wish that he could say the same for Y/N. 

 NOBODY CAN KNOW— NOT EVEN IWA-CHAN. 

[earliebirb]

it’s a small world after all

This is a fic written for my dear friend Jen ( @ishipallthings​ ) who sent me this prompt. I am making a new text post because Tumblr doesn’t allow me to insert the “Keep reading” link properly when replying to an ask :( 

it’s a small world after all

steve/tony, meet cute, pre-slash, au: no powers, 2054 words 

“Great speech.”

Smiling at the compliment, Tony turns around. “Thank y—”

And nearly drops his champagne flute.

His world comes to a stop. The light chatter of the mingling guests fades away, all of his senses zeroing in on the man standing before him.

They had only spent a night together—one unforgettable night a year ago in London—and didn’t even manage to catch each other’s last names, but Tony would recognize those baby blues anywhere.

It’s Steve.

Steve from Tony’s London business trip. Or, as Rhodey has become accustomed to calling him after months and months of Tony bemoaning his own profound stupidity of letting the perfect London stranger go without giving him so much as a phone number—The Soulmate That Got Away. 

“I— What— Steve?” Tony blinks and shakes his head, just to make sure that this is not some weird hallucination his brain has conjured up out of a severe case of lovesick pining.

No matter how many times he blinks, Steve stays there, standing in front of him, dressed in an elegant navy blue suit that shows off his insane shoulder to waist ratio.

“Tony,” Steve says and maybe Tony is imagining the way Steve sounds a little bit breathless, like maybe this moment is just as overwhelming for him as it is for Tony. How Tony has imagined this scenario happening a thousand times in a thousand different ways—meeting Steve again, hearing Steve call his name.

“What— What are you doing here?” Of all the places he thought he would run into Steve again, his best friend’s wedding is definitely not one of them. Tony sets the glass of champagne down on a nearby table before he actually drops it. His hand is definitely not trembling. 

“Uh, my date is a friend. Of the bride’s.”

“A friend of Carol’s?”

“Yeah. She went to get a drink, but—”

Before Steve can finish his sentence, someone approaches him from behind, hooking her arm through his with the kind of easy affection that only comes from knowing each other for years. 

“Steve, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” the woman chides, but there is no mistaking the fond note in her voice. Her blonde hair falls just slightly below her shoulders. She is clad in a long dress whose shade of blue matches Steve’s suit. 

“Sorry,” Steve says, squeezing her arm lightly as he turns to her with a soft smile. To his horror, Tony feels his own heart sinking. As much as he wants to, he finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of them standing side by side in front of him.

Loathe as Tony is to admit it, they look lovely together.

Tony doesn’t know why he is disappointed at all. After all, he is just a stranger with whom Steve has spent a night with. Granted, it was a wonderful night—one that started with them fighting over the last croissant at a coffee shop near Tony’s hotel and ended with pillow talk that was way too deep for someone Tony had just met a few hours prior. 

Just because Tony had maybe—okay, definitely—fallen a little bit in love with him, however, it doesn’t guarantee that Steve would feel the same way about Tony. 

To reiterate once again, they are just strangers. Acquaintances, at best. Acquaintances who spent a night being physically and emotionally intimate with each other on the day of their first meeting. The sex had been more than satisfactory, but if Tony were being honest, the part of that fateful day that had secured Steve a special place in his heart was the part where they spent the rest of the night cuddled up in bed, sharing secrets and stories about their very different lives until the early hours of the morning, pretending that they weren’t sleepy before eventually drifting off in each other’s arms. 

Up until minutes ago, Tony wasn’t even sure he would ever see Steve again. It is beyond ridiculous for him to maintain the foolish hope of Steve returning his feelings, the hope that Steve had somehow also waited for him or tried to look for him all this time. 

There is also the fact that Steve isn’t the one who had woken up in bed cold and alone after a night too well spent. 

“Oh, hey! You’re James’ best friend, right? The best man. I’m Sharon.” The woman offers him her hand, a warm smile on her lips.

“Tony. Nice to meet you.” He shakes her hand, returning her smile.

There is a beat in which Sharon seems to take in the situation, looking back and forth between Steve and Tony.

“You guys know each other?”

“Yes—” Steve says.

“Well, not really—” Tony answers, at the exact same time.

Both of them fall into silence upon realizing their opposing answers. Sharon blinks, eyebrows furrowing.

“We’ve met before,” Tony manages eventually, giving Sharon what he hopes passes for an amicable smile. All the while, he feels Steve’s eyes on him. 

“I see.” Sharon nods, but her smile is disconcertingly knowing. “Well, I think I saw some of my friends over there, so I’m going to leave you boys to catch up. It’s nice to meet you, Tony.”

With that, she leaves them alone again, her heels clicking away. 

An awkward silence settles between them. After a few heartbeats, Tony takes a deep breath and makes a valiant attempt at small talk:

“So, how long have you guys been to—”

“You never called.”

“What?”

“I, uh.” Steve’s eyes flit down to his feet before meeting Tony’s. His smile looks slightly strained at the edges. ”You never contacted me.”

“You— You left without a word. I had no way of contacting you.”

“What?” Steve’s eyebrows crease together.

“You did!” Tony exclaims, extremely confused as to why Steve seems to be confused. “I woke up and you were gone. No goodbye. No nothing. How was I supposed to contact you?”

“I— I had to catch a flight, but I didn’t want to wake you, so I did leave without saying goodbye—”

“That’s literally what I just said—”

“—but I left a note!”

“...Huh?”

Steve stares at him with bewildered eyes. “I left you a note on the nightstand. I tore a piece of paper from the hotel notepad, wrote you a note, folded it, and left it there for you to find. I wrote down my phone number and everything.”

“No, you didn’t,” Tony insists, indignant. “I would’ve found—”

Except Tony now remembers that although when he woke up in bed that day he realized that Steve was nowhere to be found, he was also immediately struck with the realization that he was late for his 10 a.m. meeting with a client—the main reason he had been in London in the first place. He then scrambled to get ready and was out the door in a record time of ten minutes. 

He didn’t even glance at whatever note Steve had supposedly left on the nightstand.

When he came back to the hotel later that night, his room had been cleaned up by the hotel staff.

“What?” Steve blinks at him. 

Tony lets out a sharp exhale in disbelief. He tries to breathe through the wave of disappointment that hits him upon realizing that Steve had wanted him to call, and that both of them are just victims of an unfortunate set of events.

Steve is still staring at him, desperate for an explanation.

“I just realized that— Um. You see, that day, the morning after we… met, I woke up late for my meeting.” Tony smiles at him, sheepish and apologetic. “So I rushed out the door in a hurry. When I came back, the bed was made and the room was all tidy. There was nothing on the nightstand. My guess is that the hotel staff must’ve cleaned it up during the day, while I was gone, so…”

“So you never saw the note,” Steve finishes, a myriad of emotions flitting through his eyes.

“I never saw it,” Tony confirms, gazing wistfully at Steve, his heart constricting at the unfairness of it all. They could have started something, if luck had been on their side. Steve had waited for him to call. Now, however…

Steve clearly belongs to someone else now and whatever chance Tony had back then, it certainly is long gone by now. 

Suddenly, someone calls out Tony’s name. They both turn to see the groom making a beckoning motion from across the room. 

“Tones, let’s take a picture!” Rhodey shouts. He is flanked by Carol and Pepper. All three of them are staring at Tony, expectant smiles on their faces.

Tony nods at them with a grin before turning to Steve. Sweet, beautiful Steve whom Tony never got around to having a proper date with.

“Sorry, I have to go,” Tony says regretfully, heart heavy. “It’s really nice seeing you again, Steve.”

He takes one last look at Steve before turning around to join his friends.

Before he manages to take more than two steps, however, Steve catches his wrist.

“Tony, wait.”

Tony turns to see Steve staring at him with a weirdly intense expression on his face, like he is working up the courage to say something. 

“Yeah?”

“Before you go, can I borrow your phone?”

Tony blinks but complies readily, fishing his phone out of his pocket. Maybe Steve wants to keep in touch, become friends. 

Steve types a phone number into Tony’s phone. When he is done, he hands the phone back to Tony. The new number is saved under the name “Steve Rogers”.

“That’s my phone number. Don’t lose it this time,” Steve says, a sweet and lopsided smile on his face. He then swallows, shoving his hands into his pockets. “And, uh, listen… If it’s all the same to you, I would still very much like to go on that date with you, the one you promised we would go on once we’re both back home in New York. I know it’s long overdue, it’s been a year. But I would still love to go for coffee with you, if you’re willing.”

Tony stares at him, uncomprehending. Steve seems to take Tony’s silence as a sign of rejection, because then he licks his lips nervously and says:

“Only if you want to, of course. Only if you want to, only if you’re comfortable with it, and only if you have time. You really don’t have to if—”

“But,” Tony shakes his head, “I thought you and, uh, Sharon? Aren’t you two…?”

Steve pauses at Tony’s question. The second he registers what Tony is getting at, his eyes widen almost comically.

“Oh. Oh. Oh, no. No. We��re not like that. We’ve never been like that.” Steve breaks into a relieved chuckle. “I don’t think her girlfriend would like that idea very much.”

“Oh,” Tony breathes. He feels a rush of giddy hope, so strong and sudden that it leaves him a bit dizzy. “So, coffee?”

“Yeah.” Steve stares at him, nervous and expectant, light pink dusting his cheeks. “If that offer still stands.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“How does next weekend sound?”

Steve beams at him, smile radiant. “Next weekend sounds amazing.”

“Okay,” Tony says, stepping back slowly. “I’ll call you.”

Steve nods before ducking his head bashfully, biting his lip to suppress the growing grin on his face. 

Turning around to finally walk away, Tony feels the ends of his lips climbing up into a helpless smile, so wide it could split his face in half. 

Later that night, he calls Steve. His heart is pounding in his chest as he waits for Steve to pick up, phone pressed up to his ear. 

“Hello?” Steve’s voice comes from the other end of the line.

“Rogers. It’s Tony. Tony Stark.”

A pause. “The Tony who stole my croissant?”

Tony grins. “I didn’t steal anything. That croissant was rightfully mine.”

“I got there first. I saw it first.”

“But I ordered it first.”

“I rest my case.” Steve laughs, the sound sending warmth running through Tony’s body. “I’m so glad you called. Thank you for calling.”

Tony smiles. It’s only right that he gives Steve a call. 

After all, even though Tony had stolen Steve’s croissant, Steve managed to steal something much more valuable: Tony’s heart. 

[batarella]

I Don’t Hate You - Part 18 (Jason Todd x Reader)

MOTHER FUCKERS THE FLUFF IS BACK I REPEAT THE FLUFF IS BACK AND THIS IS THE MOST I WROTE IN A SINGLE DAY I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THIS

ALSO YOURE LOOKING AT THE BITCH YOU ACTUALLY WROTE A FUCKING SONG FOR THE LOVE OF THIS ASSHOLE HAHAHAHAHAHA I ACTUALLY WROTE Y/N’S ORIGINAL SONG HOW BOUT THAT

WORDS: 9079 FUCKING WORDS WARNINGS: FLUFFFFFFFFFF (and a lil angst) ALSO SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE ORPHAN

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

It was a dirty, dangerous promise and he never should’ve given in at the last minute.

The rational part of him left over from his existing sanity endlessly scolded him for the reckless act of leaving before he’d knowingly change his mind of promising you crucial, needless to say dangerous three days. Just a few months ago, he rose from the dead, defied the odds, cold-bloodedly murdered dozens of people a single night, and the one moment he let his guard down, he let himself look into your eyes and give in. He gave in. Like the idiotic teenage boy you thought he still was. He definitely wasn’t that anymore, and he knew for an obvious, undeniable fact that there was no turning around who he was, or what he was now.

And all those months of hiding in the shadows, barely keeping up his stealth just so you wouldn’t suspect anything out of him, it had all gone for nothing because of Grayson’s blabber mouth he wanted to put a bullet in right now. He did that for a purpose. He never wanted you to see him the way he was right now. He knew what he was doing was absolutely necessary, do what Batman was too much of a coward to do and end the lives that would’ve taken a hundred more of the innocents’.

But it didn’t mean he thought it was right. He hated morals and patronized Bruce so much for that, when he was Robin and still lived under his roof. But each time he shed blood, there was no denying that he wished there would have been other alternatives to have put them down for good. Which there wasn’t. This was his ultimate, necessary resort. He’d do that if he had to, never mind people looking down on him or seeing him in a bad light. At least, he knew, that he saved so many with his actions. That alone was enough to drive him to do what he does.

He wouldn’t hide it, but when it came to you, Y/N, you’d be ashamed of what he’d become. When you loved, you loved hard. He had never felt so secure with anyone else. You loved him greatly, and you made him feel like you were terrified of losing him, maybe even more than he was terrified of losing you, which was already great in itself. And he reveled in that love, made sure he never took advantage of it and gave you the exact same amount of love back. Not because he had to, but because he actually did love you that much. And he wanted you to feel that.

But that was when you were kids… As great as that love was, he couldn’t possible rekindle anything for now. You were of no part of his vigilante life when he met you, and he made sure it stayed that way. That was why he never came to tell you. You were so precious to him, the best taste of a life that was normal, content, and happy beyond what he could describe. He didn’t want you to be exposed to any of that. It was basically why he left you the moment you knew about him.

Now, he was ten times worse. He willingly killed. He made deals with actual human demons. He’s a part of the most dangerous debacles the whole world has ever seen. With the League, the al Ghul’s, the fact that he was a living, breathing zombie. You just couldn’t be a part of that anymore. No matter how much his life turned to the worst, he couldn’t have this for you. He couldn’t possibly be worth all the pain and trouble that came with merely being by his side. Not a chance. He wouldn’t make himself worth it.

If he was, he’d put you in the worst place possible. And you didn’t deserve that.

He fell in love with how human, genuine, and real you were. All those times he had with you, dates and adventures and lying in bed laughing all night, he couldn’t possibly destroy that. You deserved that kind of happiness and normality that strayed you away from the danger that he was.

But if it meant spending the next three days with you, going through all this just to give you the kind of closure you never had the first time he left, it was the least he could do. And after that, if you truly kept to your promise, you’d move on from him and live the life you always deserved. And you had to. He’ll make sure of that. He’ll make sure that the next three days, you’ll either be so repulsed of the sight of him, or give you a slow, much needed exit from his life that was unnecessarily dramatic but still all the more necessary. He’ll give you that. You deserved that. No matter how much he didn’t.

He’ll keep his cool, maintain enough distance not to spark anything he wouldn’t want to start that would only make matters worse. He’ll make sure you’d instead be exhausted of your apparent attachment to him, and by the end of this, you’ll willingly leave. Even though this was extremely idiotic in his part and defied practically everything he told himself not to fall into for the last few months since he had enough sanity in him to have any logical thought, he’ll have to orchestrate this whole thing so it ends as smoothly as it should.

And when this is all over, when you finally get to live your life, he promised himself that he’ll never-ever-see you again.

He won't follow you back home from your university, to your part time job, to the restaurants you go with your friends or even an alley you were too dangerous to go in. He scared all the thugs enough not to go back. So it was safe. Hopefully.

No matter how much it stung, he’ll stay away from you. For good.

Jason, wearing a black hoodie and some jeans despite the warm summer weather, walked down the sidewalk going down to your street. He was nervous, and all the promises he kept for himself, he made sure to remember them before he left this morning.

When he reached the curb, he stopped before the pedestrian lane and waited for the light to turn green.

You were there, right outside your apartment standing by the steps. Right across from him. You wore a dark red sleeveless top and a skirt that went down to your thighs. Your eyes were on your phone, momentarily looking up. No wind blew against your hair, but it flowed to your little movement, falling from behind your shoulder down to your chest.

He didn’t see it last night, especially with it being so dark.

But you grew up so beautifully mellowed, exactly how he would’ve envisioned you to look now from three years ago, except he didn’t realize he’d be in this place now. And with it being everything he expected, it meant that you, despite the futile halting of his mesmerized thoughts, were heart-stoppingly beautiful in every way he could have imagined.

He watched you, from the other side of the street, making sure his sweating palms were out of sight. The car noises and crowd talking had been long blurred out and silenced. His eyes, they were poignant and unmoving, forehead creased up like he was worried when there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. People around him started to cross the lane, and he went along with them. He never dared to look away from you, not even for a second. You looked up, tapping your phone onto your palm.

When you caught his eyes, you smiled.

He knew he shouldn’t.

But your smile, small, yet everything he thought he’d never get to see ever again, it unwillingly forced him to smile back. Jason reached the sidewalk, went over to you, and you kept your pretty little smile as you waited for him.

“Hi.”

He breathed in, forgetting just about everything he thought about at that quick minute he stood in a trance and cleared his throat. “Let’s go.”

“You have anything planned?” You placed your hands in front of you.

“Not exactly. You?”

“I do… if you’d let me.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll go wherever.”

“Okay,” you smiled. “I drive.”

“I drive.”

“It’s my car.”

“I don’t know where you’ll take me.”

“You said we can go wherever we want.”

“Just tell me where you wanna go, and I’ll take us there.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Fine, jackass.”

You took him to your car that you had parked just outside your apartment. It was a black sedan, probably from your dad.  “Nice ride.”

“Thanks. It’s my dad’s old car.”

You both got in, with him at the driver’s seat. “You and your dad doing good?”

“He wanted me off his life now that he has a new wife and everything. I demanded an apartment, a car, and money for my tuition, or else I wouldn’t stop sneaking into his house and destroy his stuff.”

“Jesus. How the fuck are you still not arrested?”

You made a satisfied, proud little sound when you shrugged. Jason exhaled with a bit of a laugh and started the ignition. “Where are we off to?”

“You know that outdoor Italian place by the plaza?”

“Italian?”

“My treat.”

“Are you serious?”

He should have known you’d turn this into a date. This was everything he hoped wouldn’t happen.

“I have something to do there. Just drive.”

“Fine. Jeez.”

He drove off into the streets, not long before he reached the plaza and parked by one of the empty spots near the open grassy field. You got off the car, walked by his side and you reached Giuseppe’s. It was a quaint little place, just by a giant open field where people usually took their dogs to. The inside was quite full, red and black plaid covering most of the décor. The outside, on the other hand, looked beautiful. The metal seats and the small circular tables that littered the concrete ground built on top of the grass, where trees were around enough to give enough shade from the sun. and there were lines tied from one end of the restaurant all the way to the roof that had little fairy lights on them that would have been gorgeous at night.

He wasn’t comfortable in the slightest. He barely goes out during the day. And he hated being around so many people. In fact, this was probably the first time he eats out of the house that wasn’t the cheap diner across the street. He hated every bit of it.

But anything for you, he guessed.

“For two,” you told the host. And they led you to an empty table in the middle where a big yellow umbrella was standing in the middle. You took your seats, and Jason gave you a dirty, disapproving look.

“This wasn’t supposed to be a date.”

You scoffed. “Sure. Call it that.”

“I didn’t call it a date-“

“Yeah, you totally did. What’s wrong with two friends eating lunch together?”

“At a pricey Italian place?”

“It’s not that expensive here. And take that hoodie off. It’s ninety degrees out.”

He leaned back against his chair, collecting his breath, then pulled down his hoodie.

“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

“Shut up.”

Friends. He had to remember that. You called him your friend. He should be happy. It wouldn’t be as hard when you say goodbye to him after 72 hours if you were just his friend.

The waiter came in, and you both gave your orders. You leaned in, smiling, and he tried not to smile back, but the smirk on your face just made him want to chuckle.

“Alright, what is it you wanted to do here?”

From your medium sized purse you had slung over your shoulder, you pulled out a camera, a large black one, and your phone. You scrolled to one of the screenshots you had and handed it to him.

“For our finals, we’re told to write an original song, record it by ourselves, then we make a music video out of it.”

“That sounds…” he scratched the back of his head. “Impressive.”

“And I wanted to get some footage from here in the plaza.”

“You’re gonna film people without their consent?”

“Relax. I won't include their faces. Nothing to worry about.”

You imitated his voice with that last sentence and it made his skin crawl. “Whatever.”

You placed your camera back into your bag.

“You wrote a song, huh?”

“Yeah. Plenty. I’ve gotten good practice overtime.”

“Really?” he leaned over, curving up the corner of his mouth. “Let me hear them.”

“No, you dingus. It’s a really rough draft.”

“All your songs are rough drafts?”

“For now.” The waiter gave you your glasses of water. You drank from it. “I never got to record them in a studio. I had to do them on my own.”

“You have equipment and everything?”

“I have enough. The school lends us what we need.”

“And you wrote the lyrics and wrote the sheets and everything?”

“Everything.” You smiled proudly. “Shouldn’t have doubted you when you told me to choose music.”

Jason smiled at the memory, drinking from his glass. “Yeah…”

Your food eventually came. And you both opted to eat in silence. He shouldn’t be talking so much. He had to remember why he was here in the first place. He shouldn’t be remembering anything that hits too close to what he had to avoid.

He looked up, momentarily watched you eat your pasta.

In a fancy Italian place. Or the school cafeteria.

He smiled at the sight of you.

-----

“Okay.”

You held your camera up, pointed it at the restaurant when you stood a reasonable distance away on the open field. You looked up, squinted at the sun, then adjusted the lens to get the right amount of light in the shot.

“Jay, stand here.”

“What?”

“Here,” you pointed to your side. “Cover the light.”

“Why me-“

“You grew half a foot since I last saw you. You’re tall enough to block the fucking sun. Come.”

Jason made sure you heard his annoyed grunt and stood over to give you the shade you needed. “Perfect.”

“I feel used.”

“Well, were you just gonna stand there and be useless?”

“When I said I gave you three days, I didn’t mean to be your fucking assistant.”

“Then you should’ve thought of that before you agreed.”

You started recording. Jason must have thought you were filming the couples on a date, kids running about on the grass. You could have covered people’s eyes and caught the bright smiles on their faces, how their face creased up when they laughed so hard they almost toppled off their seats.

But that wasn’t what you were going for.

Instead, you caught the lone man, sitting crouched over on a table with no one sitting next to him. His face was looking down at his book, and his eyes looked almost shut closed. He didn’t once look up at the people around him, at the waiter that gave him his drink. He didn’t even order much but a single plate of pizza. You didn’t catch his whole face, but you caught his eyes, his hands on his book. His back turned to the otherwise on going scene of events around him that he couldn’t be bothered to watch. He probably wasn’t sad, but he definitely looked like it.

You stopped recording and looked back at your footage.

“He won't like that.”

“Hush. No one will recognize him. And no one’s going to find out when the only people actually getting to watch this shit are my professors and a few beta watchers.”

You placed the camera down, then looked around.

“Quick, Jay. Help me find more depressing things to film.”

“Is this another disturbing horror film you made a bunch of in high school?”

“No…”

You winked at him and he guffawed. “I can't believe I let you drag me into this.”

“Quit complaining.”

“You know what this reminds me of?”

He shouldn’t. he really shouldn’t. but he couldn’t help it.

“When you hold me hostage just to help you with your little projects in class.”

“Hey,” you countered, pointing the camera at him. “You happen to be a very good assistant.”

“I’m not your assistant.”

“I passed all my classes with your help, remember?”

Jason ran his fingers through his hair and you noticed him give it a little tug. “Fine. I’ll help you.”

“Good. Now find me another sad thing to film.”

You both started walking down the park’s open area. Kids were running around, people sat on the grass with picnic lunches being set up. People were actually smiling, and the sun shining so brightly didn’t help with the mood, either.

“There.”

Jason pointed you at a bench where a kid was crying. Alone. He didn’t look like he had a scraped knee or anything much to cry about. He was probably lost. “Thanks.”

You took your camera, aimed it at the kid, and made sure you got a shot of his head curved down, his arms covering his body with his legs trembling as they hung off the edge of the bench. You caught the sight of his mouth curving down, the tears running down his face, and you especially made sure to catch him sniffing and wiping his snot off with just his arm. “Poor kid,” Jason said.

“Aaaand, we got it.” You smiled brightly, looking back at your footage with wide eyes and a proud look on your face. You even laughed when you got the shot of his snot.

Jason frowned at you.

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“That kid’s crying.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“Go help him.”

“I’m not gonna-“

“Y/N.”

“I make kids cry, not make them feel better.”

Jason laughed at that and shook his head. “Go help him. You got footage from him and it’s the least you could do.”

“He’s not-“

“If you won't do it, then I will.”

You stuffed the camera in your bag and let out a long, irritated grunt. “Fine.”

He walked by your side, and you made your way to the bench. The boy didn’t look up at you, or even notice that you were standing by his side. Jason nudged your shoulder.

“Hey kid,” you said.

He looked up.

“You lost your mom?”

The boy nodded, sniffing and wiping his tears.

You cocked your hip to the side. “Next time listen to her and never keep her out of your sight. The information desk is over there, and if you want you can talk to one of the security gua-“

“Jesus…” Jason set you aside and stepped in to sit beside the little guy. He looked up at him, scared, but Jason gave him a kind smile.

“You alright there, bud?”

The boy licked his lips, rocking his legs in the air. Jason scooted nearer to him. “I like your shirt. You like Batman, huh?”

He nodded slightly, the tears in his eyes coming to a stop.

“Well, I heard he’s not that great. Between you and me, Wonder Woman’s a lot better than he is.”

“Really?”

“By a mile. Plus, she has powers. Can’t get any cooler than that.”

“I guess…”

You sat back, watched him talk to the kid until his nose got a lot less stuffy and his frown turn into a funny little grin when Jason told him a joke.

You smiled, watching Jason’s face scrunch up and his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Wanna go find your mom?”

“Yes, please.”

He stood up, and he held Jason by the wrist. You stood behind them, watching them. And when Jason took him back to the playground where he said he lost his mother, he kneeled down to the kid’s height.

“You ran a long way, bud. Be careful next time. Do you find her?”

He looked around through the dozens of other women in the area watching their children. Jason stood up, seeing from above. And when he saw a woman frantically looking around from the slides, he held the kid’s shoulder. “That her?”

“Yes! Thank you!!!”

The kid looked so happy, giving Jason a high five before he left to hug his mother. Jason watched him leave, then turned to you.

You felt your heart so warm. Jason had always been good with kids.

A killer. A murderous vigilante. He was definitely that. You could see it.

But you were right when you knew the best parts of him could never be killed off.

“That’s how you talk to a kid,” he said.

“You know I was never really good with them.”

“Damn straight,” he said, then your started walking back down the way you came. “You go to nurseries and make a whole batch of kids cry for help.”

“It’s a very fun thing to watch. Kid’s cry funny.”

“I thought you said you changed when you kept your promises.”

“Oh, I did. In most ways…”

Jason laughed with you. You haven’t heard him laugh in three years. You watched every second of it until his face eventually mellowed down.

“Where to next?”

“I’m going to need more footage. What else can you find?”

You both looked around. “Let’s go to the pond.”

You walked with him.

A large pond in the middle of the park, and with the sun slowly starting to lessen its shine, the scene looked more like what you’d envision. Thank god, it was a slow day. Otherwise the place would have been packed. The pond was dark, green, and looked a bit stuffy, but there were swans around that floated in the streams.

And on top, reaching from one end to the other, was a narrow bridge painted in a dark, wooden grey. It perched perfectly on top of the water and reflected off of the surface. With the light it was hitting, it was perfect. Jason stood close to you.

“You’re filming just the pond?”

“I’m waiting for someone to stand there and look over at the water all depressed.”

And you waited, for a good few minutes.

But it was either a bunch of kids running across, a couple hand in hand, or old women feeding the swans with bags of bread.

“Jay. Huge favor.”

“No.”

“Just hear me out.”

“Oh, I definitely know where this is going.”

“Just a few seconds.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Cover your head with your hoodie.”

“You go do it. And I’ll film you.”

“We’re not allowed to be in the shots. You have to do it.”

“I hardly believe that’s true.”

“Well, it is, and I can show you the module right now.”

“Don’t bother. I’m not doing it.”

“Please, Jay.”

“Motherfucker-“

“Please.”

Jason cursed. “That doesn’t work on me.”

“Just stand there and do nothing.”

“I don’t want my face on camera.”

“Your face won't be on it. I’m desperate. Just help me out with this.”

Jason closed his eyes, bit both his lips, and you heard him count to ten with the lowest voice.

“Come on, Jay. So we can go.”

“Fine. But this is the last one.”

You smiled so widely at him and he glared at you. “Thanks, Jay.”

“Shut up.”

He waited until no one was around, then pulled the hood over his head. He slowly walked over to the bridge, resting his elbows onto the railing and looking right down at the water.

You licked your lips and aimed your camera. You pressed record.

He looked…

Exactly as you thought he was on the inside. On the darkest parts of him where the demons could never leave. His head was craned so down, his eyes hooded and dark. His arms, although relaxed, almost seemed like he was shielding himself from the world going on. He looked scared. Alone.

You continued to record, holding your breath.

It was painful to watch.

But you couldn’t stop looking.

If you could, and if only you’d let him, you’d have pulled him into your arms, hugged him from behind and stuffed your face into his neck.

You swallowed, turning the camera off. And you looked away before your thoughts could consume you.

Jason walked over to you, took his hoodie off, then gave you that annoyed, playful glare.

-----

You pulled out your phone, balanced it on top of the car’s speakers with the audio plugged in. You made sure it was stable, then you leaned onto your seat. Jason caught you just as you finished, stepping into the car with paper bags of fries and hotdogs on a bun with drinks for your dinner. The sky had long dimmed down, but you insisted not to go home yet. You prepared more than three movies for you to watch and it was all from the comfort of your car seats.

Jason reclined his chair with you and settled in. He gave you your share of the food. “Alright. What do you got?”

“Ever watched Orphan?”

“Back when I was a kid. I can barely remember anything.”

“Well, we’re watching it now.”

“I thought you went through all the serial killer movies you could find.”

“I like to re-watch the best ones.”

Jason sipped on his soda. “Go ahead.”

You started the movie, took a bite out of your hotdog and sat back.

He wasn’t supposed to say yes to this. It was all getting way too intimate for his like. He should’ve insisted you go home and turn the movie off before you got any more ideas. Knowing how you used to be, you manipulated people to get your way. You’d be doing the same thing to him right now.

But.

Still, you insisted. And with you being so pushy and all, he didn’t have much of a choice.

Three days. That’s all there is.

This is the least he can do.

This is the least he can do.

This is the least he can do.

He looked at you, watched you chew on the fries like a kid with candy, then turned his attention to the movie.

It started with a mom and dad with a strained relationship going out to adopt a little nine-year old girl, who honestly looked too much like a demon spawn out of hell.

“Who the fuck adopts a girl looking like that?”

“Well…” You loudly sipped on your drink.

Jason looked at you.

“I looked like that. At one point.”

“You're kidding.”

“Yeah,” you snorted. “I never told you?”

“I know you looked like Wednesday Adams.”

“I actually dressed a lot like Esther there.” Esther. The name of the nine-year old girl. “I followed her clothes and hair. Even her makeup. I wanted to creep out the adults, you know?”

Jason laughed out loud and took a bite out of his bun. “You're insane.”

“In fact, I think she looks real good.”

“Shh. Let’s watch.”

You bit your lips when it came to the sex scene in the kitchen. And Jason tried to distract himself with the soda and drank as loudly as he could to try to drown out the moans. You looked at him, awkwardly, then laughed.

“When grown ups love each other very, very much, they want to show each other that love,” the mother told Esther. “They wanna express it.”

The nine-year-old looked at her. “I know. They fuck.”

You and Jason snorted out your drinks and laughed so hard you swore you could taste the fries coming out of your nose. You threw your head back against the seat, drinking from your straw just to stop yourselves from missing too much of the movie.

“Fucking love that part.”

“I know.”

You watched on as Esther started killing pigeons and bullied one of her classmates. You laughed, and Jason looked at you quizzically. “That’s so you.”

“When I was ten.”

“Sure.”

Jason watched you laugh, rolling your eyes at him, and he took a moment for his lingering gaze on you before he looked back.

“That kid’s gonna kill the nun.”

“Dude, don’t spoil it.”

“I thought you watched this!”

“Well, I forgot most of what happened and I want to relive the insanity that is this movie.”

“Alright, fine.” You smiled.

The nun was warning the mother of what happens with the girl around, saying how bad things always followed wherever she went. She ignored the nun, and Esther, with that creepy look on her face, struck the nun’s head with a hammer.

“I know I said hammers used to be my favorite toy-“

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Really? You weren’t about to say I could have killed a nun like that?”

“No. But you certainly did a number on a whole lot of people.”

You glowered at him. “Thanks a lot, Todd.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

Esther then brought her mother a bouquet of flowers from their stillborn daughter’s grave, then the mother grabs her arm, after which Esther fakes an injury and blames her for it.

“Okay-“

“Y/N, I swear if this ain’t you-“

“I know I faked an injury once-“

“Yeah, you fucking did.”

“But that girl deserved it.”

“All she did was invite me to her house for a project that we were paired up with and you got so jealous that you purposely bumped into her so her coffee would spill. Then you faked a burn on your hand.”

“I-“

“What? You gonna deny that?”

You groaned and threw a French fry at his face. “Shut up.”

It was wrong. So wrong. But fuck, he hadn’t smiled so much since he fucking died.

“Stop comparing me to this nutjob.”

The nutjob in question, Esther, waited for her mother to get out of the car. Then with the baby still inside, she released the brakes and let the car roll all the way down the hill to incoming traffic.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I have never done anything like that.” You pointed at yourself.

“If you did, I’d have called the cops on you.”

“I fucking swear on my life.”

“Okay, don’t get all defensive on me.”

“Oh, be quiet.”

You nudged Jason’s shoulder, then sipped the last of your drink.

Jason looked down, with the movie still ongoing, and saw how your elbow was just barely grazing against his own. He looked at your arm, trailing up to your face.

Then looked away before he had any more thoughts. Possibly of him pulling you to his arms and cuddle like you used to.

Ester then puts on a provocative looking dress, makeup, and acts like an adult woman trying to seduce her drunk father. It was disturbing to say the least. And you’ve seen the scariest shit in movies.

“This part made me the most uncomfortable,” Jason said.

“Are you sure? Not this part?”

Then, it was the scene you re-watched over and over. Esther storms into her room and takes off all the makeup that covered her age spots, her teeth, the scars on her wrists and neck, the bandage around her chest.

“A thirty-three-year old woman…”

“Fucking hell,” Jason breathed. “I can barely wrap my head around that.”

“Hey. Imagine if that kid you helped today was actually older than you.”

“Shut up.”

You laughed. “I’m serious. We don’t know. Any of these kids could be Esther.”

“I actually once read a news report.”

“This shit happened in real life?”

“Yeah.” Jason pulled out his phone then started searching for the article. “Here.”

A twenty-two year old woman from Ukraine with a rare case of dwarfism posed as a six-year old girl to her adopted family. It was almost exactly like the movie.

“Dammit, it’s actually real?” you asked.

“Yeah. And she goes by the name of Y/N.”

“Fuck you, you imbecile.”

“You did half the shit she did,” Jason laughed. You threw another French fry at him.

“I don’t act nor look like a little kid.”

“We don’t know. You could be forty.”

“I will stick this straw up your nose.”

“Fucking do it.”

You charged at him, laughing so hard when Jason blocked your arms, holding you by the wrists as you struggled to get off his hold. You dropped the empty cup on his lap, and you didn’t even realize the movie ended. Jason held your arms down, looked at you. “You can stop now.”

Your laugh turned into a small grin as you met his eyes. He was smiling back at you.

Then he let go of your hands, taking the cup off his pants and cleared his throat. You did the same, taking your phone from the stand and turning it off before the battery runs out.

“It’s getting late.”

He watched your face turn downcast. He was getting closer for all this to end. But you definitely weren’t looking forward to it.

“Hey. Look.”

He pointed out the window, where a girl was sitting by a tree, perfectly under the lamppost where she was lit up with just the right amount of light. She had her head down, arms crossed, and she looked alone.

“Fucking hell, this is gold.”

You both rushed out of the car, you holding onto your camera. You stormed out into the dark.

“Take it from there.” Jason pointed. You followed him and he stood next to you. You started filming.

The girl didn’t do much. She was just under the tree, staring at nothing. She was probably asleep waiting for someone to arrive. And there wasn’t anyone around except you two so it was perfect to get that shot. Jason looked at you, watched you work.

You put the camera to your eye, adjusting the lens at you worked. You had that small bite in your lips you often did when you were focused, and your eyebrows were furrowed.

A leaf fell to your head. He smiled.

He flicked it off with his finger and you looked up. “What?”

“Nothing.”

You went on with your work, and when the girl started to move away, you stopped recording and watched the footage. “What do you think?”

He took the camera in your hand.

You got a shot of her arms holding herself in a tight hug, her head down and her mouth, which was the only part of her face you captured, in a deep, sad frown. The light looked perfect, and you definitely had a talent with camera angles.

“This is really good.”

“Thanks.” You took the camera back and stuffed it into your bag.

“You think you got enough for your music video?”

“I certainly hope so. I’ve been filming since last week.”

“Is your song really that depressing?” he asked.

“Yeah, it is.”

You started walking back to the car.

Jason watched your face again. And asking without much thought on it, he coughed. “Can I hear it?”

You stopped from opening the car door.

“The song?”

“Yeah. Whatever you got in your phone. I wanna hear it.”

You started looking uncomfortable, looking at the ground and licking your lips. “I’m not sure if I should…”

“Come on.”

You took a deep breath, leaning your back against the car. Jason walked to the other side and stood next to you.

“Fine. But don’t tell me what you think of it.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t.”

Jason laughed and stood in front of you. You looked up at him, at his eyes, at his lips, then you pulled your phone and earphones out.

He watched you scroll through your music, plug in your earphones, then you gave one to him. Jason placed it onto his ear, and the other one you stuck to yours. He looked at you.

You pressed play.

It started with piano keys, most probably played by you. You didn’t just record this with your phone. You basically did this in your own home studio you probably had in your room.

And it was beautiful. Your playing. Then you started to sing.

.

“I wake up… to a dream I thought I had…

A dream I thought should have been

Stuck in the nights, when I was sad.

Like I have been for so long…

The dreams in fact were real.

The worst of them…

And there’s nothing I can do…

 Why did you have to take away

The only thing that made my life

So real.

So real…

Why did this have to happen,

What could I have done,

To change.

And have you back…

For all that’s worth,

You changed me for the better.

But you're not here to see me…

Why… why… why…”

.

He swore the air never felt so thick. You were shaking, pushing your eyes to shut so close together.

And he stared at you, listening to every word, standing so close to feel your breath.

.

“Now I’m all alone and

I can't try to hide

That I will always love you

No matter how far you’ve gone….

No matter how long you’ve been gone…

Why did you have to go away

When you're the only thing that made my life

So real

So real…

 Why did this have to happen,

What could I have done,

To change

How things turned out.

How I could still have you

In my arms…

 Then maybe the dreams at night.

Would make it through the day.

And I’ll have you back…

And I’ll have you here…

.

You continued with the piano chords, playing so majestically that he had to breathe in just to get this all through to his head. The song got to the end.

By then, you were shaking.

You didn’t move, and neither did he. Still with the earphones’ wire closing your distance, Jason remembered the words, every part of it. And how your voice was so beautiful, yet so sad to listen to when you were singing with all your heart.

You stuck your attention at the grass beneath your feet, and Jason kept his stare at you.

“When did you write this?”

You still kept your head down, and you started to pull the wires to wrap it around your phone. Jason didn’t move. He still stood so close to you.

“Y/N…”

“Two years ago…” you whispered.

Two years ago. That would have been a year after…

Jason breathed in through his nose. Deep, shaky breaths, then exhaled through his mouth. You swallowed.

“Did you write it for…”

You were rocking your leg just to ease your muscles.

“Y/N, was that about me?”

You looked up around you, at the grass behind him, at the trees, the lamppost, the skies. You bit your lips. You didn’t answer.

But when you finally caught his eye, you seemed to get closer. Nearer. Your breaths were hotter and he desperately wanted to close that distance.

Of course it was for him. Who else could it have possibly been for?

His heart sank, much like it was melting into a pot. He hurt you. He hurt you that much. And he couldn’t believe it but you managed to turn that hurt into something so amazing that you took every bit of his breath away.

And your fucking voice. It still kills him to this day.

“Uhm,” you gulped. “You can take me home now.”

Jason stood back and let you open the door so you could get in.

-----

You waited for him to stop ruffling his hair and get in the car.

You shouldn’t have done that. The whole point of you writing that song was about how fucking devasted you were after you lost him. He was the last person who should have heard it.

Jason got into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“For what it’s worth, it’s amazing.”

You looked at him, let yourself smile, then looked out the window.

The car ride was horribly silent. And Jason would have put on some music if he had any in his new phone. But you were comfortable. It wasn’t awkward.

But it was still horribly, horribly silent.

You closed your eyes and let the window stick to the side of your head.

Jason was here, and you couldn’t pull him into your arms the way you wanted to.

You couldn’t kiss him, take him to the back seat and mess around like you always used to.

You couldn’t do so much as look at him long enough that you could perfectly take in every single detail on his face.

He was here, but the things you wanted to do, you couldn’t. And it felt too much like only getting to watch him from afar, bask in his presence without actually getting to hold him the way you’ve always wanted to for years when you never otherwise could have.

You asked for these few days with him hoping to actually have him, make the most of it.

But you also understood. How that was only going to make matters so much worse.

You looked at him through the reflection on your window.

You were never going to find anyone so ridiculously handsome and still capture your heart the way he did. You were still, in ways you’d cringe if you had to describe, hopelessly in love with him. In every possible way. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with this man and make babies and grow old together. You wanted it so bad, since even the first few months you dated. You just couldn’t find that with anyone else. Not even if you tried. Jason had been the only person you could ever imagine a future with. A future you desperately wanted.

And you didn’t want that to change. That part of you that refused to move on, it insisted that you continue to love him, never to let anyone else have a shot with you even when you most probably had to. A year, two years, three years passed. Still, you loved him just as much as when he was alive.

He will, and always will be, yours to the end of your days.

At least, until he told you not to.

It tore your heart apart when he died.

But even when he was here. Alive. You still couldn’t have him.

In just two days, you were going to let him go. For good. And you didn’t know what hurt more. When he left and you couldn’t have him anymore for what you thought was the rest of your life, or now that he was here, and yet you were going to have to live without him and go on your days pretending he never existed.

Yeah. It was going to be the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do.

But… if it was what he wanted. If he just couldn’t stand being with you for another moment for reasons he decided for himself, for what was supposed to be your life, you couldn’t really do much to help with that.

So as all things you had to accept in this shitty story of yours that somehow had a continuation you thought wasn’t supposed to be, you let it happen.

You had two more days with him. You have to make it count.

Jason pulled up in your parking space and got out of the car with you. You turned to him, and he smiled at you as you walked down the sidewalk.

“I had fun.”

He nodded. “Me, too.”

“Same time tomorrow?”

“Sure,” he said. “You wanna go somewhere?”

“What if I let you choose? Would I like where we’d head to?”

Jason stopped just as you reached the steps. You took one step up just to level with his height.

“I do have a place in mind.”

“Where?”

Jason grinned. It drove you crazy. You watched every bit of his face.

“You’ll find out tomorrow.”

“Todd,” you breathed. “Tell me.”

“You trust me?”

You never smiled so brightly. “Fine…”

“It’s a far drive. So, I’ll pick you up at 9 am.”

“I can't wait.”

Jason looked down. “Might as well make the most of it.”

You let yourself look into his eyes. Get lost in the blue like you always did. Somehow, he didn’t look away. Instead, he stared back at you with the same exact smile on his face.

“Good night, Jay.”

“Good night.”

You took steps back, then turned around to unlock the door.

You really, really didn’t want this to end. Jason didn’t move away and he continued to watch you before you managed to open the door.

“And Y/N…”

You peered out from inside.

“Thank you…” he said.

You gave him a wide-open smile, then ultimately closed the door.

-----

“Good thing we stopped for gasoline.”

Your chair was pushed almost all the way to the back of the car. You put your feet up so your body was completely flat. “Where are you taking me?”

“You’re just gonna have to wait and see.”

The wide, open country road. Where the ends seemed infinite and the horizon looked endless. The grass was brighter, thicker, and everything the city didn’t have from the park you went to yesterday. There was almost nothing around them except for a few diners and houses far off into the land. Probably farms.

It was all so calming, soft and serene. He needed this just as much. Time away from his line of work. Even when he was barely getting started he couldn’t help admit that it was all so exhausting.

He momentarily turned to you, falling asleep with your hand covering your eyes.

“Ey,” he nudged your knee. “Don’t go falling asleep on me.”

You blinked your eyes, then you shot the seat back up from the recline. “I wasn’t asleep.”

“Yeah you were.”

“I didn’t get to sleep much last night.”

“Why not?”

“Well.” He heard you choke. “I drank coffee.”

“Again with the coffee.”

“Whatever. Let’s put on some music. From the looks of it, we have a long way to go.”

“We do.”

You eyed him as you took out your phone and plugged it onto the car’s speaker. “In the mood for some Beatles?”

“Y/N…”

“What?”

Jason sighed, looking back out onto the road. You continued to play the music despite him obviously not wanting your choice.

.

“Let me take you down

'Cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields

Nothing is real

And nothing to get hung about

Strawberry Fields forever.”

.

“Y/N, can you pick another song?”

“Why? We used to play these all the time.”

“Exactly. Turn it off.”

You scoffed at him when he deliberately turned the volume way down. Then your spoiled ass turned it all the way back up.

Jason looked away, glaring at the window.

He knew exactly what you were trying to do. Spark back all those memories, let him realize just how much he missed all those times with you in the hopes of him changing his mind about all this. You wanted him to relive those memories and make him miss you even more after all this was over. Of course. he was going to miss you. there isn’t a doubt behind that.

But he knew how manipulative you can be. You did that a lot. Get things to go your way when you didn’t want it to. And what was he supposed to do now? Demand that you turn off the music? Make you all sad when he was taking you somewhere supposed to make you happy?

Fight?

He snorted at the idea. No. Not again. You weren’t going to fucking fight like a couple. You were just friends. And it was supposed to stay that way.

The song had changed.

.

“Well, she looked at me

And I, I could see

That before too long

I'd fall in love with her

She wouldn't dance with another

Ooh, when I saw her standing there!”

.

You were singing, moving your body to the beat. He rolled his eyes when you hit his shoulder. “Jay, I’m not gonna sing the whole thing by myself.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“I’m not playing this game.”

“Fucking hell, just enjoy the moment will you? I get it. You don’t want to be attached.”

Exactly as he thought. You knew exactly what you were doing.

.

“Oh, we danced through the night

And we held each other tight

And before too long

I fell in love with her”

.

You rocked your body left and right.

He caught you in a glance. You were beautiful. You closed your eyes, singing, and you just sounded so good, it made his chest feel all warm.

You just kept going, occasionally tapping his shoulder to catch his attention. “I’m fucking driving.”

“You can sing and drive.”

He shook his head. “I’m not gonna do that.”

.

“Yesterday

All my troubles seemed so far away

Now it looks as though they're here to stay

Oh, I believe in yesterday…”

.

Oh. Your voice. It suited this song like a fucking puzzle. He knew he really shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but watch you as you closed your eyes and started to sing.

.

“Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be.

There's a shadow hanging over me.

Oh, yesterday came suddenly.”

.

Despite all the voices within him telling him to stop, he really couldn’t. He was smiling at you and dangerously kept his attention away from the road.

Shit. He looked back out and curved from the road just as he was about to hit a dog. Jason cursed.

.

“Why she had to go?

I don't know, she wouldn't say.

I said something wrong.

Now I long for yesterday.”

.

Even with his eyes on the road, he still made sure to watch you, listen.

Fuck, you just make him bend to your every whim. He hated it.

And somehow,

He wanted to.

Making you happy just feels like the best thing he could possibly do.

And just a few days ago, he murdered a whole port of Black Mask’s men, left all the bodies floating in the water without so much as looking back. That, compared to where he was now, driving in the wide open road with you singing your fucking heart out so beautifully, he was sure to choke himself someday.

He only had two days with you. He didn’t want to make this as painful as it possibly could. The last thing he’d want to do is make everything so much worse than it already was, possibly break your heart all over again as if it wasn’t already so broken beforehand. He wanted this over with, done with, then he can finally let you go and you’ll never have to put up with his cold-blooded ass ever again.

.

“Yesterday love was such an easy game to play.

Now I need a place to hide away.

Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Why she had to go?

I don't know, she wouldn't say.

I said something wrong.

Now I long for yesterday.”

.

His grin was just becoming idiotic as this point.

Okay. He had two days.

He owed you that.

He owed you just a bit more happiness with him.

He owed you the closure you didn’t have. And mostly owed you your whole life. He practically ruined it.

And to him. Despite him hating every bit of his guts, what was so wrong in letting himself indulge in just a bit more happiness?

He needed this, too. With you.

No matter how much he could try to suppress it, or hide it from himself. You were still the light of his life. You still made him happier more than anything else there was. You were still the reason he wakes up every day, even when he didn’t even get to see you. You will always be the reason for his genuine smiles.

So what was wrong with making the most of the next two days?

He’ll enjoy this time. For you. for him.

It’s the least he can do.

So he breathed in, and started singing along with you.

.

“Yesterday love was such an easy game to play.

Now I need a place to hide away.

Oh, I believe in yesterday.

Mm mm mm mm mm mm mm.”

.

You smiled so much, your cheekbones lighting up. Your eyes had that sparkle and the tingles in him grew so much worse.

“Happy?”

“Ecstatic.”

You changed the song, and with your voices blending incredibly well with each other, Jason pulled down the car door.

Everyone should hear how good you are.

Everyone should see how beautiful you are.

About two hours passed. And you stopped by a diner on the way to get some food. You laughed while you ate. Jason couldn’t help his stares on you while you ate all the fries on your plate. You both watched the bad-quality TV up on the wall about some football game you didn’t really care much about.

His smiles never actually died down. Not for a minute.

Then you were back on the road for another thirty minutes.

You were facing out the window, and he took glances on the reflection all the way until he reached the destination. You were in the middle of nowhere. He parked the car by the side of the road, and you both got out.

“Where are we, Todd?”

“Just wait. Come on.”

There was a walkway covered in seeping grass. You wouldn’t have been able to notice if he didn’t already know what was beyond the trees. You went with him, stood close to his body.

It wasn’t too far a walk.

But what seemed to have just been a lone building covered in leaves and vines now came to a much clearer view. And he made sure to catch the look on your face when you finally made out what you thought to have been just trees were actually the steel bars of a Ferris Wheel, a tall loop of a broken roller coaster, and swings suspended from a tall poll.

“Todd, you did not.”

You got to the entrance, which had a clown’s face for the archway and its open mouth serving as a gate.

DAME BELL’S WORLD STATE CARNIVAL

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

------

everyartistwas-firstanamateur

 @sarcasmismyfirstlove

@damned-queen-of-gotham

@idkmanicantenglish

@wunderstell

@birdy-bat-riya

@get-loki@everyday-imfangirling

@comic-nerd-dc

@multifandoms916

@icequeen208@offendedfishnoises

@egdolan

@xemiefx

@arkhamtoddler

@elsenthal@mythicbitchx

@supremehaunter @

burning-alive

 @lucy-roo

 roseangel013bf

@

loxbbg 

reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries

shadowsndaisiesriver9noble

zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries

@knightfall05x

@l-horizon11 flowersgirl02

[thefanficmonster]

Inky Memories

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Drug Use (Past), Domestic Violence (Past), Shoplifting (Past)

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Tattoos can reveal a lot about a person. What will Y/N’s tattoos, which she has kept hidden for so long, reveal to Corpse? Will it change anything between them?

Requested by Anon. If you’re reading this you know who you are 😊 Thank you for the request, hope you like what I did with it. Sorry if I made it too angsty! And my most sincere apologies for publishing it so late. Enjoy XOXO ❤

“Guys, come on now! I’m not hiding anything!“ I laugh, looking up from the comments to the camera, “You know how much I hate being embarrassed! Believe me when I say these tattoos are EMBERRASSING. I got them while I was either drunk or in my emo phase and I’m not too proud of them.“

I’m currently doing an Instagram live Q&A session that I scheduled last week. I do one every month and it’s my favorite way of connecting with my audience. An hour of chill lo-fi and questions and answers. I get really excited every time I schedule the session. My fans are such amazing people and they are all so supportive, funny, intelligent...I could go on and on about their positive qualities. One thing I’m not too fond of is their persistent curiosity. Here’s why.

Yesterday, while streaming, I got an unexpected pain in my forearm. Instinctively, I lifted my shirt sleeve to see what was wrong, flashing a few tattoos at my viewers in the process. I’ve never mentioned my tattoos to my audience, not even my boyfriend, actually, so to have this much attention on them so suddenly makes me want to hide them even more. People started commenting on them during the stream and I tried to dodge the majority of the questions, but I knew they would be inevitable during the Q&A. If the session hadn’t been scheduled for like a week at that point I maybe would’ve postponed it until the dust settled. 

“I have several. Not only on my arm.“ I only answer these vague questions. I avoid the ones that are asking details like what is depicted with the tattoos and what’s their meaning, bla, bla, bla.

Here’s the thing. I got my first tattoo when I was fifteen at this shady alley tattoo shop and I’ve been obsessed with tattoos since. I made a deal with myself to get at least one every year.

Needless to say, I’m twenty years old and have almost the same number of tattoos. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not ashamed of them. And I lied when I said they were embarrassing. I am quite happy with them, the way they look, at least. Each of them represent something different. Unfortunately, they are representative of some dark and depressing times. Times I want only the fewest of few people to know about.

“Yes, he’s here. You can’t see him, but he’s waving. He says hi.“ Corpse is the perfect distraction. My viewers love him just as much - maybe more - as they love me. 

He knows how easily I get overwhelmed by the attention and pressure of thousands of eyes on me and whenever I’m having a hard time while streaming all he has to do is walk in my recording room and just say the most random thing. Recently, his go-to phrase has been ‘Chicken wing’ and it always cracks up both me and my viewers.

Speaking of Corpse, him and I have been dating for over a year now. We moved in together a month or two before quarantine was officially a thing so we have been together 24/7. It’s scary how many things you can pick up on when you spend so much time with someone. That, of course, means he has noticed some of my tattoos. He has asked me about them, like why I cover them up and why am I so secretive about them and I’ve always been vague and indirect with my answers. He’s the sweetest and most patient person ever, so he has never pressed me with the questions, but I’m still hoping to gain the courage to reveal them to him someday.

“Thanks for tuning in, guys! See you tomorrow for my regular stream and next month for a chill hang out like this one. Love you, stay safe. Mwah!“ And with that the live video is done and I can finally breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Now we can order dinner“ I smile at Corpse who is chilling on the couch in my recording room. He looks up from his phone screen, returning my smile. “Were you recording a Behind The Scenes again?“

He does that often, not only with my Instagram lives but sometimes my streams as well. That’s actually how we revealed our relationship to our fanbases. 

He nods, “Yeah.” He pauses for a second, switching to a sitting position with his feet touching the floor. We’re almost at eye-level now. His arms snake around my waist as he pulls me closer towards him. I take the hint and settle in his lap, my legs on either side of him. “I admire how well you handled the pressure back there. I know how you feel about that topic.”

The small bit of anxiety that has started spreading throughout my chest disappears. He has that calming effect on me. Like my own personal safety blanket that’s with me at all times. “I wouldn’t have handled it so well if you weren’t here with me.” I say as I run a hand through his hair, moving a few stray curls away from his gorgeous eyes.

He shakes his head, making the strands fall back over his eyes, “It has nothing to do with me, Y/N. You are simply an amazing person, that’s all.“ His cold hand cups my burning red cheek, leaning my head down so our foreheads are touching. “Nothing could change my mind about it.“

That sentence causes a small pang in my chest. I feel like a manipulator. I’ve led this man to fall in love with me without knowing the past versions. I realize it’s incredibly manipulative of me to reveal my dark aspects only after we’re head over heels for one another, but I can live with it. If it were up to me, he’d never have to know. He would never have to find out that I’m not the amazing person he thinks I am. I have been broken countless times before and all my pieces are just glued in place. Not all of them are where they’re supposed to be and some of them are on the verge of breaking off. Just like a mirror. You can put all the pieces together but not only will you see the cracks, the shards can fall at any moment. 

My tattoos are to me as the cracks are to the mirror - evidence of my fragility and the many falls and breaks I’ve had throughout my life.

“Are you sure about that?“ I whisper, trying my hardest to engrave every detail of this moment in my mind because, after what I’m about to do, I’m afraid we might never be like this again.

The softness of his curls, his scent, his warmth, the way he makes me feel. I can hardly believe I’m risking losing all of that, but I owe him the truth.

I feel him nod against my forehead. I tense up and pull away so I can look him in the eyes. It’s hard for me to maintain eye contact especially when I’m fighting back tears. I can’t even say I’m about to lose him. I’m about to let him go. It’s up to him if he stays or decides that he deserves better.

No backing out, Y/N.

I grab the hem of my sweater and lift it up, revealing the many ink drawings on my skin. I discard the sweater on the floor, leaving me in only my bra meaning all my tattoos are on display. Not exactly all, I have some on my legs as well, but these are some of the most important ones. The ones which reveal most about who I used to be.

Corpse takes my hands, tilting my arms so he can take a better look at the tattoos that go from my wrists to the bend of my arm. His thumbs caress the tattoo on each of my wrists. “This one... “ I nod to my left wrist, “I got on my friend’s birthday. We both did. They’re matching.“ The tattoo depicts a heart with a keyhole. “She got the key.“

“I thought I had the key.“ He says, smirking up at me.

“You do now.“ I feel the pang again but this time it doesn’t go away. It’s a constant pain - a constant fear. Being scared of something inevitable is the most nerve-wracking feeling. It makes you feel small, helpless, like you’re standing aside watching your life be controlled by a force you can’t see.

Before he can break me even more, I go on, nodding to my upper arm, a little below my shoulder where there’s a rope tattoo that bends around my arm, its ends connecting in a bow, “I got this one after my shoulder healed.”

His brows furrow in concern as he tilts my head for me to look at him, “Healed from what?”

Here we go. Let the cat out of the bag. “Um....well...” I instinctively reach up to touch my shoulder, running my fingertips over the inked rope. “My dad wasn’t a very nice guy.”

I can pinpoint the second his heart breaks. I don’t want to hear what he has to say, I know it will kill me, so I just continue, moving onto the one on my other wrist where the word ‘Shadow’ is written in cursive writing, “This was my nickname in my friend group. I was the only one to never get caught shoplifting.”

The tears are gonna start rolling at any moment so I deliver the final blow, moving onto the most traumatic event, aka the tattoo on my collarbone of a heartbeat turning into a dead line and kicking up again, “This one I got after I woke up from my almost overdose.”

As if on cue, a tear falls from my eye onto his hand that’s still holding mine. My voice remains still, to my surprise, but I know it won’t be long before it too gives and breaks. I can’t look at him. I don’t want to see any sympathy or that look like he doesn’t recognize me. I feel like I’ve let both myself and him down.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?“ he asks me in a whisper. He sounds almost hurt. “You know you can tell me anything.“

I see another tear fall, “I know. I just...didn’t want you to think any less of me.“

Again, he lifts my head so he can look me straight in the eyes. He knows how much I struggle with eye contact and how much I hate crying in front of people, he knows how vulnerable I feel when someone’s looking me in the eyes or when someone sees me cry. He also knows that he’s the only exception to that rule. He knows I never feel out of place when he’s around. 

“Think less of you? Babe, you’re a fighter like no other. You picked you life back up. You did all that on your own. You’re a warrior, Y/N.“

I smile through the tears which are now ones of joy instead of fear and dread. “I was a dumb teenager, Corpse. I had no idea what I was doing. I just wanted to get a thrill and feel something other than pain. I know I went about it the wrong way but...” he gives my hand an encouraging squeeze, “And you’re wrong, I didn’t do it all on my own.” I release his hand so I can cup his cheek. His hand comes up to cover mine as I swipe my thumb on his cheekbone, “I met you a month after I left the hospital. The rest you know. I moved to a less druggie populated part of town and I repaired my relationship with my aunt. All that time, I was balancing between the need to relapse and the will to stay alive. After I met you, that balancing act was no longer a balancing act at all. I didn’t even think about my past anymore. I was more focused on what I could be. On what I have to be to deserve to have you by my side.” 

“You will always have me on your side, Y/N. Even when you don’t want or need me there.“ With both his hands holding mine he leans forward, connecting our lips. It’s a short kiss laced with nothing but love and adoration. 

As we lay on the couch, him asking about each individual tattoo I didn’t get to tell him about, everything just seems a lot easier. Like a big area that was previously dark has suddenly turned into the brightest point of our relationship.

“I need to get that key tattooed. It’s only appropriate.“ He says, his finger tracing the heart on my wrist.

“Or an ownership deal for it. That heart’s yours, you know.“ I laugh, lifting my arm to inspect the oldest painting on my body, “It’s your favorite one?”

“No.” he shakes his head, “This is my favorite one.” he leans down and kisses the heartbeat on my collar bone. “I’m so glad it started beating again.”

“I am too.“

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus

[ironmandeficiency]

love me naked

pairing: fox / reader

word count: 1749

summary: you and fox both overwork yourselves and in order to get him to slow down, you have to do the same.

a/n: i love fox dearly and had intended on saving this for a while but i got impatient. i’ve never written for fox until now so he may be a bit ooc, fingers crossed that he isn’t. hearth is an oc and i love him so much, if you have questions abt him or any of my other oc darlings i’d love to answer them. (listen to this song)

“he hasn’t come out in ages,” thorn’s voice is rightfully worried as he approaches you. you’re treating a shiny that came back from his first rough shift. the poor thing was shaking, nervous and still reeling from the fact he was attacked by the civilians he was so eager to help. hearth, he said his name was, and you recognized the name from hearing chatter around the medbay. medics were flies on walls, and hearth was quickly becoming known for his empathy and what some claimed were the best hugs in the guard.

you knew that thorn was talking about fox. your boyfriend had a reputation that heavily revolved around the way he would throw himself into his work and burden himself with more than anyone ever should, but to point fingers would be quite hypocritical on your part.

being the chief medical officer of the coruscant guard’s medical bay, you’ve pulled all-nighters that could put some front lines medics to shame. you hadn’t slept in nearly three days, spending all of your time elbow-deep in blood and bacta. there wasn’t even a reason for you to be up; your staff had recently been replenished (there had been several civvie medics quit after a particularly bad riot) last week so there was no dire need for you to stay in the medbay.

it could be seen as hypocritical of you to chastise fox for his behavior with your current state as well as priors, but someone had to take care of the self-sacrificing commander.

“i’ll be with you in a minute, just let me take care of hearth here first.” thorn nodded and stood nearby while you finished up with the last of the bacta patches the former shiny needed.  it would’ve normally taken a minute or two tops, but you wanted to go slower; you could tell that hearth needed the extra attention.

after a few minutes, hearth is completely patched up. he’s leaving the medbay with a sucker in his mouth and a calmer demeanor than when he came in. your area is sanitized and the bloody gauze and gloves are unceremoniously thrown into the biohazard basket, and you’re off.

it’s time to rescue your fox from his own mind.

--------

three knocks snap fox from the hypnotic daze the datapad had over him. he hadn’t moved his eyes from the screen in what was probably hours, his eyes no longer registering the burn the blue screen caused. he called out a gruff come in and was surprised to feel how dry his throat was. when was the last time i actually talked?

you were in your greys, thorn standing slightly behind you. your eyes were a little hollow, probably from pulling the third triple shift this week. why didn’t you try to rest? you had the authority to maneuver the schedules of your medics however you wanted to, there was no reason you had to put so much on your shoulders.

but what upset him the most was the way your eyebrows shifted when you took in his surroundings. datapads were anywhere from six inches to two feet high stacked like a fortress around and on his desk, crumpled balls of flimsi scattered throughout. one stack of datapads had several dirty plates stacked from what little food he’d actually eaten in the past couple days.

your voice is soft, worried, when you speak. “fox, can i come in?”

fox hated the way you were using your gentle medic voice on him because it meant that his state was more pitiful than he cared to realize. “yeah, baar'ur’ika.”

thorn nods, seeming to be satisfied now that you were here to get his commander the rest he needed, and leaves. you slowly make your way into the room and fox goes to meet you in the middle so you don’t have to navigate his datapad fortress, but he must have been sitting far longer than he thought he had been. his legs start to give out under him and he leans onto the corner of his desk for support. his weight jostles the desk a smidge too much and one of the datapad stacks is seconds from falling on top of him before you’re pulling him towards you.

you both end up on the floor after you tripped during your daring rescue but it was fine.

the datapads crash into the space fox was occupying seconds before and for a moment, the office is completely silent. then fox laughs, and he laughs and laughs and laughs. it sounds like the heavens are singing, his weary smile shining brighter than the stars could even hope to. you grinned, soon joining him in gleeful fits. neither of you remembered the last time you both found something funny enough to show it this much and it was peaceful.

fox sat up, pulling you into his arms and resting his chin on your shoulder as his jovial demeanor mellowed out into a peaceful, easy feeling. you and him sat in comfortable silence for a while, letting you both heal from the long hours at the other’s side. moments like this are rare and you don’t think anyone or anything could drag you out of fox’s embrace.

that is, except for fox himself.

he pecked your temple lightly before shifting you out of his lap. there was no hint as to what he was deciding to do, no way for you to gauge his next move. when he picks up a datapad from the toppled stack you’re immediately standing. he was not about to start working again so soon, you wouldn’t put up with it.

right as you’re about to scold him for leaving your spot on the floor, music reverberates through his office.

it wasn’t a song you recognized but it was soft and slow, the kind of music you’d sway to on a date or in your bedroom after nights spent in his arms. it was relaxing and you could see the way fox’s shoulders released some of his backup supply of tension that it had the same effect on him.

fox knew he was working himself into the ground, and he knew that you had a tendency to do so as well. if taking care of himself would get you to do the same for you, he just had to take the bullet. for you, of course, not because he thought he needed (or deserved) a break. when there was an opportunity to rescue you from responsibilities for a little while, he had to take it. here you were, eyebags darker than he’d seen them in a while and a soft gleam in your eyes that reminded him of the first time you treated him in the medbay, and he felt at peace for the first time in a while.

he extended a hand out to you as he set the singing datapad precariously on one of the pillars of its brethren. “would you like this dance?”

the last time fox had danced was at a stuffy senatorial party, before either of you made your affection for the other known. that night he didn’t pull you as close as he wished he had, but today he held no such reservations about maintaining proper space between the two of you. he was so graceful when dancing, his body having an elegance about it in those moments that was utterly hypnotic. you didn’t realize how much you missed the way his body felt against you until he was beginning to guide you to the song.

but what if i told you

there's nothing i want more in this world

than somebody who loves me naked

someone who never asks for love

but knows how to take it

the words resonated with you, the softness of the instruments driving the sensitivity home. it made you pull fox as close to you as possible, his chest flush with yours. with the proximity, fox seemed to debate with himself for a moment before abandoning the structure of your slow dance in favor of both of his arms wrapping around your waist. yours went to his neck while one hand gently played with the hair at the nape of his neck, relishing in the serenity around you.

no matter how hard i try

to run away from love at the end of the night

i need somebody who loves me naked

you gasp when there’s an unexpected twirl, your feet somehow able to carry you away and back into fox’s arms with ease. fox shoots you a sly grin when his hands take new positions against your skin and you bury your face into his neck. he’s warm against you and you can feel the calluses of his hands even through your scrubs.

i need someone who loves me when i wake up

who thinks i'm beautiful when i'm looking fucked up

i want the perfect love, am i asking too much?

someone who shoots for the stars

knowing i think i’m never good enough

you allow fox to lead in the swaying (because let’s face it, it stopped being actual dancing after the surprise spin) and let the words and the solid body of your commander bring you to peace.

are you that somebody

who sees a wall and breaks it

are you ready to fight just to see what's lost behind my flaws

can you love me naked

--------

thorn returned to fox’s office a few hours later with two trays in hand stacked high with food from the mess. he’d asked around base if anyone had seen either of you since you left the medbay, but no one had. this brought the commander to the conclusion that you never left fox’s office. it also meant that neither of you had dinner, which was an error that would soon be rectified.

with a sense of balance thorn didn’t know he possessed, he was able to successfully rest one plate on a raised knee while entering the entry code for fox’s office. upon entry, he found you both curled up against the front of fox’s desk, clinging on to each other as if your lives depended on it.

“it was about time they took a damn break,” thorn mumbled to himself. he set the food down on fox’s desk and searched his vod’s office for a moment before finding a blanket to drape over you both. maybe this way you two would actually get some well-earned sleep.

[jalapeno-princess]

Chapter 3: Home Is Where The Heart Is

Mark Tuan X Reader

Part 3 of the “Crazy Little Thing Called Love” Series

Word Count: 10K

Genre: Angsty Angst (This chapter is actually the saddest one of the five chapters but don’t worry, it gets better soon)

Summary: Distance makes the heart grow fonder—or does it?

A/N: Hey guys! So this part sounded better in my head(it’s kind of all over the place) but so is my life hahahaha please enjoy! (Italics are past tense but I bet y’all already knew that)

“I’m sorry, but the number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable. Please try again later—“ 

The frustrated groan that fell from your lips was expected. This was the sixth time you tried to get in contact with your boyfriend tonight but all your attempts went straight to voicemail. You knew being in a long distance relationship was going to be difficult; not having Mark around anymore was driving you to the brink of insanity more and more each day. 

It didn’t help that there was a seven hour time difference between the two of you. When he would be waking up, you were in the middle of class and if you were about to go to sleep, he was getting ready to go to soccer practice. As much as you tried to make sure that Mark heading off to college wasn’t going to affect your relationship in any way, there was only so much you could do to stop yourself from worrying about what the future really held for the two of you. 

From the beginning of your relationship up until now, you and Mark experience distance on multiple occasions. However, the twenty-minute distance between your elementary school and his middle school was nothing compared to being stuck in California while he went off to study at New York University. 

You remembered the day he found out he was accepted like it was yesterday. Not only was Mark extremely talented in almost every single sport any college had to offer, but the grades he maintained all throughout his high school career was unbelievable. It was only natural for all these colleges to reach out to him; offering many different kinds of scholarships and even full rides to some of the universities Mark could only dream of being able to attend. 

When you were younger, the older boy would always fantasize about traveling to New York. He would watch all kinds of shows, documentaries and anything kind of tour program that the travel channel had to offer. At the time, you thought it was extremely adorable. Any time Mark seemed very passionate about something never failed to pull on your heartstrings. But when the many acceptance letters began coming in the mail, you wanted nothing more than to rip them all up. 

You’d be lying if you said the breathtaking grin on his face each time he opened up one of the letters didn’t make you happy yourself. You were extremely proud of Mark for being able to excel in almost every single thing that he put his heart in to. To this day, it boggled your mind at the idea of how perfect he genuinely was. There was not one letter of rejection and it wasn’t shocking to you. Mark was the kind of student athlete every school wish they could have. 

He had acceptance letters from almost every university in California and you tried to indirectly hint towards wanting him to choose from one of them. At the same time, you forced yourself to accept whatever it was that he wanted. After all, it was his life—his future. You were being selfish for wanting to get in the way of that. Unfortunately, everything you’ve been worried about since you’ve realized Mark was going away for college at the beginning of your sophomore seemed to come true. 

Fights began to occur whether you liked it or not. Deep down, you knew it was harder for him because he was thousands of miles away from his friends, his family and his favorite person—but that was his choice. His schedule and your schedule tended to collide. You were both extremely busy at the same time and it was evident that making time for one another was harder than you both thought it would be. 

He called you every single day for the first month that he got settled in and he never failed to mention just how much he hated it. The campus was huge; your parents allowed you to go up with him and his family to explore New York City together while helping him set up his dorm. It was honestly one of the best experiences in your entire life. Just like Mark, you’ve always dreamt about traveling the world and the longer you two were dating, all you ever really wanted to do was experience going on trips all around the world with him. 

For the most part of the trip, the Tuan family had an itinerary of what they wanted to do while in New York but they did give you and Mark some free time to do whatever it was that your hearts desired. You found yourself at Central Park having a cute little picnic that he planned out prior to landing in New York and he also took you to the skating rink in the middle of Times Square. Watching him fall on his ass multiple times made you come to the realization that maybe Mark wasn’t perfect at everything—but that didn’t matter. He was still flawless in your eyes; and it was one less activity for you to get jealous over. 

The days seemed to fly by to both his and your dismay and soon, you and his family were just hours away from heading back to California. You deemed yourself old enough to say that leaving Mark had to be the hardest thing you have ever done so far in your entire life. You’ve never seen him cry so much before and you didn’t know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. 

Sure, the idea of not having his family around really upset him; but the fact that he was no longer going to be able to see that breathtakingly beautiful smile of yours—nor would he get to hear your contagious in person really broke his heart. If it were up to him, he would’ve held you captive and prevented you from going on that six-hour plane ride home. His grip on your hand as you all drove over to the airport was tight while his face was hidden in the crook of your neck. 

“Fuck—I made a mistake didn’t I?” 

You gently pulled him away from your nape in order to look at him and you could’ve sworn you’ve never felt a pain in your chest like you did when you saw his eyes so swollen and red from all the tears he cried. Out of force of habit, you cupped both his cheeks and tried to give him the best fake smile you ever put on before. 

“No, you didn’t make any mistake babe. If anything, this decision had to be one of the best ones you’ve made so far. Four years will be over before you know it. Trust me, you’ll be over the moon when you finally become a successful engineer and you’ll learn that it was all worth it.”

“Will it be worth it though? Leaving you—no longer physically being with you. Not being able to kiss these pretty lips of yours, not being able to hold you as much as I want to, not getting to hold these dainty little fingers of yours that seem to fit mind so effortlessly; like they were made for me. God y/n, I’m going to miss you so fucking much. I don’t think I can do this. I can’t live without you.” 

The tears were practically burning at your eyelids. Then don’t. You wanted nothing more than for him to change his mind and those two little words were on the tip of your tongue—but it was too late. He was already registered; he had a jersey for all three sports teams he was going to be a part of. His dorm was filled with all his items—this was going to be his home for the next four years and you just had to accept it for what it was. 

“This is your future Mark—“

“You’re my future baby. All I want—all I could ever need, for the rest of my life is you y/n. I’ve known it since I was seven years old and I’ll know it when we’re eighty. Promise me, we’ll be okay. Please. I know it’ll be hard; missing you is probably the only thing really fucking me over right now. I can’t promise you that things are going to stay the same between us as much as I would hope it could, but don’t give up on me. Okay? I love you y/n, more than I could ever fathom in to words. We’re going to be okay.” 

His words from that night came back like a slap to the face. It was like they were taunting you. The two of you were definitely not okay. Although his college experience was off to a rough start, things seemed to fall in to place for your boyfriend during the second month. When football season began, he had something to do to take his mind off of how much his heart was longing to be with you. 

You felt at ease knowing that he was finally getting used to being so far away and that he was actually enjoying his college escapades. He informed you on all the new friends he was making, how practices were longer and more grueling, how the campus food was nothing compared to his mom’s cooking and how people in New York would walk like they were on steroids. 

If only you could say you were having as much of a fun time with school as he was. Junior year wasn’t all that you thought it would be—but you also blamed yourself for your disinterest in anything that didn’t regard your boyfriend. Your life revolved around Mark and it was something you never wanted to admit out loud in fear of sounding pathetic. What person in their right minds would spend the only free time they had sitting around with their phone in their hand, waiting for a call from their boyfriend? Only you apparently. 

Your family were quick to pick up on how you were no longer yourself; everyone and their mothers were well aware of how much Mark meant to you and equally aware of how much you meant to him. The two of you were magnets; where you would go, he would follow. Nobody could separate the two of you even if they tried. 

There was a gravitational pull between you and your boyfriend and everyone knew that his absence had to be the reason you were always so out of it. You might have been there physically; whether you were at school, hanging out with your friends or just sitting at dinner with your family—but mentally, you were with Mark. 

Your mom was actually the one who talked you in to either getting a job or joining a club. Seeing as how you weren’t someone who liked to interact with anybody you didn’t really know on a personal level, you decided to go with the former and found yourself applying to many different jobs. Unlike a lot of your classmates who chose to work at coffee shops or at the state library, you accepted the job at a grocery store ten minutes away from your house. 

It wasn’t the most ideal job, but you could use some extra money. The first day of work was pretty simple; it was more of an orientation to get you prepared for your next shift. Your manager went over what was expected of you as a cashier, how you were supposed to wear your uniform, where you could find items if customers were to come up and ask you for assistance and other necessary information about your responsibilities. 

Right as you were packing up your things and preparing to head home for the day, it was then you walked in to the break room and noticed someone sitting on one of the couches. That someone just so happened to be one of the biggest pains in your ass. 

“Jaebeom, what the hell are you doing here?” 

When you first were introduced to him a little over five months ago, you didn’t think he was going to get under your skin like he has been for the last few weeks. In the first week of his arrival from Korea, your teacher gave you the responsibility of showing him around the school. Not only did you not feel as if you were personable enough to be the one to actually give a campus tour, you cringed at the idea of having to be alone with him. 

At first, he attempted at small talk with you; he wanted to know what your favorite food was, how your high school experience was so far, if you were in any extracurricular activities and the kind of music you listened to. You decided to not give him the time of day and tried to limit any interactions with him specifically because you didn’t think Mark would be too fond at the idea of you befriending another guy. Especially one he wasn’t all that familiar with. 

You also felt that there was a chance Jaebeom took a liking to you. Although you never really thought too highly of yourself nor did you want to assume that he had developed feelings for you, he always seemed so eager in wanting to talk to you. In fact, you had yet to see him try and pester anyone else the way he would with you. It was if he was picking on you purposely. 

A part of you felt as if you were being extremely rude towards him; he was nothing but friendly and patient towards you and you were nothing but hostile with him. His kind personality only lasted for so long. When he realized that you had no intention on being friends with him, his considerate nature took a 360 degree turn. 

Out of nowhere, his flirtatious compliments soon turned in to insults. He also started picking on you; throwing paper airplanes in your direction to get your attention, always selecting the good supplies before giving you a chance to and even hiding your things while you were away from the table. You knew you were at fault for his behavior; your hostility towards him when he was nothing but nice to you was unfair on your part. But you knew guys like Jaebeom—you had a feeling he was like most of the guys at your school. As much as you enjoyed hanging out with Mark’s friends, they obviously only chased after girls for sex. 

Your boyfriend was the only one with genuine interest in relationships and being in love. Jaebeom didn’t seem at all different; it’s as if his aura screamed trouble and the last thing you needed was someone to meddle with your relationship in any way. The older boy looked up at you incredulously; he was wearing the uniform you were just given and he was sitting in the break room—obviously that meant he was an employee and you were well aware of that. 

It was just that you had a hard time processing; or accepting rather the fact that you were going to be working alongside someone you considered an enemy. Out of all the places—why did he have to work at the same grocery store that you just got hired at? He already gave you so much stress at school, you could only imagine it was going to be worse now that he was your coworker. You found out in that same week that he was a stock member, so you wouldn’t have to deal with him at all which you were glad to say the least. 

The less time you had to spend around him, the better. To your dismay, your contact with Mark went from a couple times a day to only once or twice a week if you were lucky. That wasn’t the worst part; the distance seemed to be getting in the way of everything. For the last three years in high school, you were good with keeping up your grades. You were also very good whenever it came to participation and answering any questions your teachers would ask you. 

You didn’t realize just how unhappy and dejected you were until you and your parents were called in to the office by your counselor to talk about your grades. Not only were you failing two classes, you were one letter grade away from being on probation. Your parents wanted to be understanding; although you never involved anyone in to your relationship, they were well aware that your behavior was the subject of Mark’s absence and his failing to call and text you. You began to feel like he no longer loved you the way that he used to—the way you still did with him. 

If he did, wouldn’t he use every minute of his free time, no matter how exhausted he was to talk with you? There were countless nights you’d stay up past midnight because it was the only time he’d be able to contact you. Here you were bending over backwards in order to even get a glimpse of him and yet—he couldn’t; or didn’t even think about doing the same for you and it sucked. It sucked because all your biggest nightmares were coming to life right before your eyes and there was nothing you could do about it. You couldn’t help but cry every time you thought about how he practically begged you to never give up on your relationship, no matter how hard it was. 

Where was the boy who claimed to love you more than life itself? The same boy who would call you up at 2 in the morning just to cry over how much he missed going to sleep with you in his arms? Where was the boy who was willing to give up his entire college career if it meant being able to see you every day and who was this stranger who couldn’t care less about how you’ve been doing? 

A part of you felt as if you wanted to confront Mark and tell him about how you felt, but you never got around to it because if he ever did get in contact with you, it was to complain about what he was suffering through or how his life was going. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be there for him; you were so grateful that Mark trusted you with all of his worries and problems, but you missed being able to do the same with him. You didn’t want to accept it, but your boyfriend no longer cared about you and it was a hard pill to swallow. 

As irresponsible as it was for you to cry while at work, there was one day in particular that you just had enough. You stayed up the entire night before, contemplating your relationship with Mark and wondering if it was even worth fighting for anymore. Keeping up a long distance relationship was a team effort and you knew you were the only one putting in your heart and soul to make sure it wouldn’t fall apart. 

Your manager had a feeling something was off with you that day as soon as she saw you walk in with your shoulders slumped and tear stains on your cheek. When you were ringing up customers, you had zero energy and you weren’t even trying to put on a fake smile—you just did not want to be there at all. Most of your friends felt like giving you your space even if they were extremely concerned with your well being. But they didn’t feel like there was anything they could do. 

Your sister moved out of the house to live with her boyfriend a couple of months ago and both of your brothers were away at college. It was just you and your parents and even then, they would both work up until late. You felt so alone—and it wasn’t like you had Mark to run to. Everything in your life was falling apart and you were so unhappy. You loved Mark, more than you wanted to; and more than he deserved as of right now. 

There was nothing more you wanted than to fly up to New York and knock some sense in to him—you also wanted to kiss him for as long as time permitted you to. Only one hour in to your shift, your manager pulled you to the side and asked you if everything was okay. 

Honestly, you didn’t know how to respond. You were definitely not okay; nothing was okay. By the weary expression on your face, she knew something was wrong and instead of trying to force it out of you, she allowed you a fifteen-minute break just to take a little breather. 

Sure, you have been working there for quite a while; but you didn’t want to take advantage of your manager’s kindness. She already had done so much for you; whether it was switching around your schedule so you could study for your midterms or finding someone to cover your shift if you called in sick so you didn’t have to, you knew she was an employer who genuinely cared about her employees and it was something you would be forever grateful for. 

Once she told you to head to the back, you found yourself releasing the quietest whimper before you broke down in tears. You didn’t care whether or not someone were to walk in on you crying, everything was just too much for you to handle. Your chest felt tight and your throat grew sore with every sob. Why was all of this happening to you? 

Just months ago, you were living out your best life. You had your entire family to come home to every day, your grades were almost perfect, you had both your friends and Mark’s friends to make you laugh and take your mind off of how difficult school could be but most importantly, you had Mark. You were so busy wallowing in self-pity that you failed to notice that you were no longer the only person in the break room. 

You felt Jaebeom before you saw him. He glided his hand gently along your back as a way to get you to slow down your heaving. When he noticed that you leaned back in to his comforting touch, he took that as a sign to hold you even closer—and he did. Jaebeom had brought you on to his lap and began to run his fingers through your hair while rocking you back and forth. 

Although he knew he was getting in to dangerous territory; there was no way he could just let you cry by yourself. There was a chance you would be mad at him for taking advantage of you while you were in such a vulnerable state, but he didn’t care. He’d accept whatever you were to throw at him once you realized what he did to help console you. 

What you weren’t aware of, was that he did in fact have a crush on you. It may have been a suspicion on your part, but it was true—and he made it painfully obvious that he liked you. On his first day when your science teacher had him sit with you, he was captivated by your beauty. Sure, Jaebeom has seen many pretty girls in his lifetime, but something about you stood out to him and he could explain what it was because he didn’t know himself. 

However, when your teacher had you bring him around the school—take him to his classes, show him where all the important buildings and offices were; he learned that you were a no nonsense kind of person. You were also very bold and blunt; something he wasn’t used to in a girl. Maybe that’s why he liked you so much. Unlike other girls, you hardly ever batted an eye to him nor did you appear to desire his attention. It wasn’t something he was used to; Jaebeom was always well-known and well-liked by his peers. 

In the few months he’s been at your school for, he grew to be a crowd favorite. Everyone in your junior class either wanted to be him, be friends with him or date him. You however, wanted nothing to do with him and something about that made him all the more interested in you. He didn’t know why, but seeing you cry made his chest feel heavy. He had no idea why you were so upset, but he wanted to beat up whoever it was that made you cry. 

Even if it wasn’t towards him, he’d observe the way you were such a bright and bubbly person whether it was with customers, your fellow classmates or your teachers. It was a bit of a stretch to desire a friendship with you, but he at least wanted to be civil. Jaebeom wasn’t going to lie, he got a kick out of teasing you and doing things he knew would get a rise out of you, but it was his only way of really getting to interact with you and he was going to take whatever he could get. When he realized you were no longer crying, he decided it would be best to get you off of his lap. You shocked both yourself and Jaebeom when you stopped his movements and cuddled in to his chest even closer. 

“Wait—just a couple more minutes. Please?” 

You didn’t know what came over you in that moment; whether it was because you were lonely and felt as if you had no one, or because this was the first time in a long time that someone held you in such a comforting way, but you didn’t want him to let go. You couldn’t help feeling as if it was wrong; being held by another guy who wasn’t your boyfriend—you knew Mark wouldn’t be all too happy if he were to find out that you were the one who wanted to continue being held by Jaebeom, but you weren’t able to find it in yourself to care. 

The two of you stayed like that until Jaebeom told you he had to clock in, but once the two of you got up from off the ground, he pulled you against his chest and held you ever so gently. This was the first time you ever felt anything other than disgust for him and it actually felt pretty nice. He could’ve have just left you there; he could’ve allowed you to cry all by yourself and honestly he should have with the crude way you’ve been treating him, but he didn’t. You were evidently hurting and Jaebeom came to your rescue. 

From that day on, your friendship with the kind-heartened boy blossomed immensely. Instead of hiding in one of your classes or in the back of your school library for lunch, you were now meeting Jaebeom in the courtyard. It took you a while to come to accept it, but being around Jaebeom felt like a breath of fresh air. Although his presence didn’t completely take your mind off of your failing relationship and what was barely left of it, he did make you laugh with some of the corniest jokes and he also brought you some of his mom’s homemade strawberry milk. 

The longer you were friends with him, the more you learned that he was the complete opposite of what you thought he was. First, he was the biggest momma’s boy. Well—other than Mark, but being an only child, Jaebeom was always clingy and overprotective when it came to his mom. He wasn’t embarrassed to answer her calls if he were around you and one day, he brought you over to her café in order to let you try a few of her other concoctions. He was also a huge cat lover. 

He was the proud father to five different cats he all adopted from the humane society. The fact that surprised you the most though; was that he was a b-boy dancer. He didn’t give off the vibes of being passionate for dance, but at the same time you didn’t think he was capable of taking care of anyone but himself—let alone five cats. You didn’t want to believe that there was anyone else for you other than your boyfriend—nor did you think you harbored any romantic feelings for Jaebeom; but at the same time, your chest would feel empty every time he would drop you home. 

You wanted to believe that the love you had for Mark was enough to fight off the feelings you assumed were growing for the boy in question. It wasn’t until he called you outside of your house on a Saturday with a bouquet of roses in his right hand and a teddy bear in his left. You would never be able to forget how shy and flustered he looked; you never thought you’d see the day Im Jaebeom’s cheeks would be flushed with pink—it was even harder to process that you were the reason. 

“Hey—I uh—would you maybe want to—I was wondering if you and I could—Junior prom?” 

Shit. You were too focused on everything else going on in your life that you failed to remember than prom was in less than a month. Honestly; you didn’t really care about going. Mark never asked you about it and when you tried to bring it up to him one night, he told you he would be busy on that day so you ultimately decided you wouldn’t go. 

There really wasn’t any point in going anyway; you were hardly close with anyone in your year and you didn’t want to waste hundreds of dollars on a night where you’d be alone and miserable. Plus, you already got to experience both Junior and Senior prom with Mark. Both nights were too amazing to even describe. Mark never failed to compliment how beautiful he thought you looked; in fact, most of the night was spent with him staring at you in awe of your beauty. There was no way you would be able to go to prom without tearing up over how much has changed in less than a year. 

A year ago, Mark rented out a hotel room for the two of you to return back to once prom was finished and you knew exactly what his plans were for the rest of the night once he pressed you up against the elevator mirror and kissed you with all the energy he could muster. Even if you weren’t really in the mood to go, you didn’t have it in you to tell Jaebeom no. 

Knowing the kind of guy he was, you were sure it took a lot for him to build enough courage to ask you such a nerve-wrecking question. The two of you may have been friends; but that didn’t necessarily mean you would want to go with him. As soon as he saw the small smile that he was falling for faster than he’d like to admit rise upon your face while you nodded your head in agreement, he returned back an even bigger and toothier grin. He was quick to hand you the gifts and pulled you in to his warm embrace before your mind could really process what was happening. 

“I like you a lot y/n. Would you be my girlfriend?” 

Hearing those words made your head spin. At this point, you were confident that Jaebeom liked you. He was so sophisticated and chic around anyone else but to you, he would conform in to the smallest little baby. He was so soft for you and followed you around like a lost puppy. You’d be stupid if you didn’t think there was even the smallest chance that he liked you. 

Seeing him with such hopefulness in his eyes broke your heart; your relationship may not have been what it used to be, but there was no way you would ever cheat on Mark—nor did you want to give up on him just yet. You were waiting—what for, you had no idea. But there was a tiny voice in your head begging you not to give up on him just yet. You wanted to believe that one day soon, he would realize exactly what he was doing to you. He would realize how he was breaking your heart and if he didn’t hurry up and get his shit together, he would lose you completely. 

“Jaebeom, I’m so sorry—I can’t—I—I have a boyfriend.” 

When you watched his face practically drop at your confession, you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Why didn’t you say something earlier? How could you lead him on like this? He was nothing but caring and thoughtfull; everything Jaebeom did was to make you happy. Something that only your boyfriend should be worrying about. 

You didn’t feel like you needed to tell him everything about yourself nor did you feel as though that information was all that important. Yet—you couldn’t help but feel as though there was another reason as to why you didn’t tell him. You didn’t think it was because you didn’t want him knowing you were in a relationship just in case he did have feelings for you. 

So what was the real reason? His frown was quick to disappear and you felt as if you’ve known the older boy long enough to distinguish his real smiles from the fake ones. The smile he was currently giving you did not reach his eyes. You wanted to reach out to him and give him a hug—but you would only be giving him more confusing signals.

“Jaebeom—“

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it okay? I should have expected it. There was no way someone so beautiful with such a charismatic and gracious personality was single. Please know that I won’t let my feelings for you get in the way of our friendship okay? Your boyfriend is a very lucky guy; I hope he knows that. I’ll see you on Monday, have a nice day.” 

That was the first time you ever cried over someone who wasn’t Mark. Your heart hurt from Jaebeom. It was evident that he wasn’t a relationship kind of guy; nor did he seem to be the kind of person who would buy flowers for someone but he did so—for you. Jaebeom was changing his ways in order to impress you—to be the lucky guy who got to be the one who called you his. But that position has been taken for over ten years now and there was a battle going on between your mind and your heart on whether you wanted to continue your relationship or if you wanted to take a break from it. 

That following Monday; you could tell Jaebeom was trying his best to show that the rejection wasn’t affecting him in anyway, but he was only human. You were the first girl ever that he fell head over heels for; so it was a lot for him not only to face rejection, but to hear the reason as to why. He wasn’t as talkative nor did he really show interest in anything at all. You even tried to come up with all kinds of conversations about topics you knew he was heavily interested in, but all your efforts failed. 

You broke Im Jaebeom. 

Thankfully, things didn’t stay awkward between the two of you for too long. If the only way he could have you in his life was as a friend, he was going to take it. Prom night finally arrived and you knew you should have been excited, but you couldn’t wait to get it over with. You didn’t even tell Mark that you decided to go—you didn’t think he would care anyway. It was disheartening for you to come to the realization that your relationship was causing you more anguish and pain than it was excitement and adoration. 

When did Mark grow tired of having to put effort in to your relationship? When did he realize that you were the last thing he should be worrying about? When did he stop loving you? As much as you didn’t want to think or even believe that your boyfriend fell out of love with you, there was no other explanation as to why he’s been acting the way he has towards you. Sometimes, you felt that the only reason why Mark continued to stay in the relationship was because it was convenient for him. Your relationship continued for a span of a decade. 

You were all he has known for the last ten years. You’ve seen it all; the good, the bad and the ugly. The idea of starting over with someone else, having to get used to someone else must’ve been troublesome. While you got ready for your prom, you were quick to pick up on your mom’s unusual behavior. 

She was constantly texting someone on her phone and she motioned for your dad to walk over to where she was so she could show him what was making her so animated. You wanted to think it was because she was just excited that you agreed to go to prom, but something in your gut told you there was more to her exuberant exterior. You were just getting the finishing touches of your makeup done when the doorbell rang and your mom wasted no time making her way downstairs. 

“Y/n! Jaebeom is here, and he’s looking especially handsome today!” 

Your parents were aware of your friendship with the older boy and they seemed to approve of him. They were fond of the idea that he took care of you in the way Mark always did when he was still in California. You decided to leave out the fact that he liked you just in case it caused any unnecessary drama. After you finished putting on your dress and your heels, you started heading down to the living room and you could’ve sworn your heart rate increased as soon as your eyes landed on him. 

Everyone with good eyesight could see that Jaebeom was exceptionally good-looking. You actually hated just how handsome he really was; but seeing him with his hair slicked back, wearing a suit and tie was all the more breathtaking. You didn’t think it was possible he could get any more handsome than he already was. When his eyes landed on you, his eyes widened in shock and you even saw his jaw drop a little bit. His stunned reaction was making you feel things you know you shouldn’t have been. 

“Wow y/n you look—wow—“ 

You giggled softly as you playfully pinched his cheek as a way to prevent him from seeing the effect his words were having on you. “Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself. Shall we get going?” 

He placed your corsage on your wrist and gave you his arm to hold while saying goodbye to both your parents. Jaebeom in more or less words, was the perfect gentleman. From the moment you both arrived to the hotel, he opened every single door for you, pulled out your chair for you and helped lift your dress to prevent it from dragging.

 As amazing as the night had been so far, you despised the fact that you wished it was Mark there with you instead of Jaebeom; but it was only human of you to do so. No matter how much hell he was currently putting you through, you would rather go through the ends of the earth to be with him than to go to heaven with anyone else. 

When your date excused himself to the bathroom, you decided to go on your phone until he was too come back. Right as you saw that you got a text notification, curiosity got the best of you since the only people who would get in contact with you these days were your parents, your siblings and Jaebeom. At first, you just assumed it was your sister wishing you a good time or your mom reminding you to watch your step. However, your heart both fluttered and sank when you finally opened up the message and saw who it was from.

Babe: Hey, are you free right now? Can we talk? 9:23 p.m.

You wanted to laugh hysterically. Out of all the times he could contact you, it had to be the night of your prom. A night where you were supposed to have fun and enjoy your last year and a half in high school. Was he really being serious right now? You wanted to leave his message on read; you told him that you were going to prom and you were sure he must’ve seen a couple of posts on social media from some of his friends in your grade that he still kept in touch with. But your heart was dying to hear what he had to say. 

For some reason, you thought it was something negative. Those three words never led to anything good. Was he finally feeling the distance between the two of you? Was it suffocating him as it was slowly killing you? You didn’t know what he was going to tell you, but you couldn’t let it wait.

You: Sure, let me just go outside real quick. 9:24 p.m.

You decided to send Jaebeom a quick message that you needed to make a phone call so that he didn’t worry about your sudden disappearance. Once you made your way outside, you gave yourself a few seconds to recollect your thoughts. The last time you had a conversation with him that lasted for longer than five minutes was almost two weeks ago. It was currently almost summertime, yet the temperature was in the low sixties, so you began to rub alongside your arms to keep warm. After taking in a deep breath, you pulled up his contact and dialed his number. 

“Hey baby. How are you?” 

You absentmindedly rolled your eyes at his question. What did he care? How you’ve been no longer seemed to matter to him for over four months now, so what was so different about tonight? “I’m fine. What is it that you wanted to talk about? I’m kind of busy right now.” 

You didn’t mean to come off so coldly, but you were just so frustrated with the entire situation and you were anticipating something negative to fall from his lips. 

“Aw shit—I forgot. Tonight is your junior prom right? Damnit—if it’s any consolation baby, you look so fucking beautiful.” 

You were confused at his compliment; when did he get a chance to see you? Since you weren’t all too excited for tonight, you didn’t really post anything—nor did you feel the need to send him any pictures. Maybe your mom sent him photos of you or something. Right as you were about to respond, there were two hands that lightly covered your eyes. 

You knew exactly who it was without even having to guess; these were the hands you’ve held for more than half of your life. The same hands that would wipe away any tears that would fall from your eyelids. Mark. He spun you around and immediately placed a searing kiss upon your lips before you could even say or do anything. 

“Hi baby, missed me?” Seeing him for the first time in almost five months should have been more thrilling, yet when you looked at him, you felt nothing. No butterflies, no sparks, no increasing of your heart rate—nothing. When you looked at him, you didn’t see the love of your life. 

The boy in front of you held no familiarity at all. You wanted to react; you wanted to cry—to wrap your arms around him and kiss him all around his handsome face. You wanted to go in to detail about how much you’ve missed him and how these last five months without him were extremely difficult—but nothing came out. You could tell by his furrowed brows and the way he was biting his lip that he wasn’t expecting such an emotionless reaction from you. 

“What are you doing here Mark?” 

He frowned. Mark had a feeling he was being such an asshole towards you for the last few months. He knew the distance between the two of you was all his fault. It was killing him as much as it was with you. What you didn’t know, was that he took on a job in order to make some money for a trip back home—to see you. To say he was tired was an understatement. 

If he wasn’t at school, he was at work. If he wasn’t at work, he was at practice and the only time he had to rest was right before bed. There was no excuse for not reaching out to you more often; honestly all he wanted to do was to call you and see what you were up to. That’s why all your calls were so short. He didn’t care what the two of you talked about or how long the conversation lasted, he just wanted to hear your voice. It was what kept him going. 

No matter how hard college was for him, he knew he was going to get to see you again soon. If only he knew what his absence was going to do to your relationship; then he would’ve just asked his parents to pay for his flight home but it was a pride thing. Mark hated having to depend on people. He was independent from the day he could walk. Your reaction was the complete opposite of what he was expecting, but it wasn’t exactly unexpected. 

“I wanted to surprise you. Listen, I can explain why I haven’t been so involved in our relationship these days and I’m really sorry y/n. I’ve been such a jerk and you really don’t deserve that but—“

“I think we need to take a break.” 

You couldn’t even look at him; you were sure the two hours of makeup that the makeup artist work so hard on would get ruined if you were to see his reaction. It took you a long time to come to that decision; not once in your ten years of knowing him and loving him for would you have ever thought you would want to take a break from him. You never wanted to be away from Mark—ever. But he was never around anyway and waiting on him only interfered with what was going on in your life. It was also taking a huge toll on your mental health and you no longer wanted to give him that power anymore. 

“Y/n, you don’t mean that. Baby you’re just mad and you have every right to be. But please, hear me out—“ You let out a scoff of disbelief. 

“Hear you out? All I ever seem to do is hear you out Mark. Everything is always about you! Go check your messages. It’s always me—I’m always the one reaching out to you. I’m always the one initiating the calls, I’m the one staying up till the wee hours of the morning and going to school so exhausted just so I can talk to you. I—I can’t help but feel as though you fell out of love with me. Don’t get me wrong, your happiness, your health and your well-being is all I care about. But you don’t seem to give two shits about me or anything that goes on in my life Mark. I got a new job—I tried to tell you, but I never get any word in before you have to leave for school or for practice. I’m also on probation—my grades are shit right now and if I don’t get my act together, they’re going to hold me back an entire year and guess what Mark—it’s all your fault. I’m tired Mark. I can’t keep doing this anymore.”

“So that’s it? You’re going to give up all these years—these wonderful, amazing and unfathomably perfect years together because you’re being stubborn and refuse to hear me out? You’re giving up on us so easily y/n! You claimed that I fell out of love with you—you and I both know I am still so madly in love with you and I’m always going to be in love with you Damnit! What happened to all our plans huh? What happened to forever? You and I are soulmates y/n—did you forget that?”

“Of course I didn’t Mark—but don’t you dare play the victim in this. Our relationship is no longer what it used to be. I tried so hard—so fucking hard to get it back to what it used to be but each and every single one of my efforts went to shit because you obviously don’t think anything is wrong. I’m dying Mark. This relationship is going to be the death of me. I’m unhappy Mark. I haven’t been happy in such a long time. I’ve missed you so fucking much—“

“I’m here now baby. Fuck y/n I’m so fucking sorry baby. Please—please, please—let me fix this. I can fix this. I’m not letting you go this easy—fuck I’m never letting you go y/n. Get it through that thick head of yours. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.” 

You hesitantly brought your hand up to cup his cheek and released a gentle breath of relief when you felt him lean in to your palm. You grazed his bottom lip with your thumb before leaving a chaste kiss against his lips. Your heart was begging you to hear him out—stupid heart. Such a stupid—stupid heart. 

In his eyes, you could see the little boy who added an extra red piece in the slot when you weren’t looking so that you could win connect four against him. The same boy who gave you his shoes to wear as he walked with just socks on because he saw how much pain your heels caused you at his junior prom. There was not a doubt in your mind that Mark loved you even if you kept trying to convince yourself that he didn’t. 

The love he had for you was still there. It just wasn’t as fierce or as strong as it used to be. You wanted to deepen the kiss; you loved kissing Mark. There was nothing you missed more than having his pretty lips meld perfectly with yours—but you knew if you were to kiss him, your entire speech about going on a break was going to be for nothing. You rested your head against his chest before placing a gentle kiss right below his jaw. 

“I love you Mark. I truly believe I was made for loving you and I’m always going to love you. I have every intention to getting married to you, starting a family with you and spending the rest of my life with you. But right now, I think we need some time apart in order to find ourselves again. I lost myself loving you Mark—I gave you everything and you took it all without hesitance until there was nothing left. I need to learn to live without you Mark. I’m not giving up on us—I’m just doing what I feel is going to bring us back to each other again. You are my person Mark Tuan and I’m yours.” 

The two of you stood there for what felt like hours. His grips were tight on your waist and you began to tear up as soon as his chest began to heave against yours. You knew he was crying and you weren’t actually expecting any kind of emotion out of him; you were still so shocked to hear him grow angry with your decision. When you looked up at him and saw his eyes were now bloodshot red and filled with tears; you were ultimately regretting your decision. You wiped a tears away with your fingers and pecked his nose lovingly. 

“Don’t cry baby. In due time, we’ll be fine.” 

You were selfish; you were the one pushing him away, yet you still wanted as much time with Mark as you possibly could get. You didn’t know just how long it would take for you to heal, so you wanted to cherish this moment while you still could. Unfortunately, your little reunion with Mark was interrupted and you had a bad feeling that things were right about to go downhill. 

“Hey y/n, they’re going to start announcing the king and queen did you want to—oh—uh—hey man, you must be Mark. Nice to meet you.” 

Mark’s grip on your waist tightened as his jaw clenched; yeah—this wasn’t going to end well. Mark was the definition of a jealous boyfriend. One time, he almost ended up twisting BamBam’s arm when the younger boy made a joke about how you were in the bedroom. He was extremely protective and territorial over you—but since he’s been absent, he had yet to hear about who this guy was that seemed to know who he was. 

His eyes landed on Jaebeom’s tie and how it matched your dress perfectly. It only made him wonder—who exactly was this guy to you and why were you at the prom with him?

“Jaebeom, do you think you could go inside? I’ll be right there.”

He looked at your worried expression then noticed how both of Mark’s fists were balled at his sides. Jaebeom wasn’t stupid; he wasn’t all that bright when it came to his studies, but he could tell that you weren’t as happy as you played yourself off to be. Seeing how tense you and Mark both were, he couldn’t help but feel that your boyfriend was the reason. 

As much as he wanted to call Mark out for making you cry so much these days, it wasn’t his place to do so. He was just your friend and if he wanted it to stay that way, he knew it was best to keep his mouth shut. You relaxed when you saw him nod in agreement before walking back inside of the ballroom. 

“Mark, I think it’s time for me to head back—“

“Him. Is he the reason why you’re leaving me? Did you fall in love with him? Did you cheat on me y/n? Did you get lonely while I was away—working my fucking ass off at a job I hate in order to save enough money so I could come and see you?—“

“Mark, stop. You know it’s not like that—“

“Needed another dick to keep you satisfied while I was away? Is that what it is? What—did he say all these nice things about you to get you to fall for him? What is it y/n? What’s so good about him huh? What does he have that I’m lacking—“

“ENOUGH! Don’t you dare accuse me of cheating on you. You and I both know I would never EVER do such a fucking thing. My heart—this pathetic heart and what’s left of it, my mind, my spirit, my body—you own it all. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want anyone else but you for you to get it through your fucking head? Stop trying to play the victim Mark! You’re at fault here! Accept it! Jaebeom is just a friend—he was here for me when I had nobody. I had no friends—my siblings are all out of the house—my parents are gone all the time and my boyfriend only calls me when he wants to—when it’s convenient for him. Jaebeom is a genuine friend Mark. You should be happy that I had him to keep me sane. Instead of wondering who he is to me, you should be focused on what you are to me. Good night Mark.” 

Jaebeom tried his best to cheer you up in any way possible, but he could tell by your body language alone that you just wanted to go home. He didn’t hear what happened after he left, but the curiosity was eating away at him. However, you already looked so distraught—he didn’t want to add on to it. You felt bad for Jaebeom—this was just as much his prom night as much as it was yours and now you ruined it for the both of you. What you could use was a three-month long nap. When Jaebeom dropped you home, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek before wiping a tear from your face that you didn’t even know fell. 

“I don’t know what happened earlier and I don’t expect you to tell me. But just know I’ll be ready to listen whenever you’re ready to talk.” 

You didn’t know what it is that you did to deserve such an amazing friend like Jaebeom—if someone were to put you through what you’ve been putting him through since the day you met him, you would’ve dropped that person completely. But here he was—so understanding—so willing to give up and sacrifice anything for your happiness. You made a mental note to make it up to him once you were mentally ready to do anything. 

Your parents were shocked beyond words to see you coming back alone—they actually didn’t expect you to come home at all knowing that Mark was going to surprise you. They actually conspired with Mark to go and surprise you at the hotel because they’ve noticed how broken you’ve been for the last few months and they were hoping that seeing him again would get you in a better mood. Your mom was about to approach you, but it was evident that you just wanted to go to sleep. 

Only three days in to your break with Mark did you realize you may have made a brief lapse of judgement. Sure, it was as if nothing has changed. You were already used to not hearing from him; but now that you knew the two of you currently were not a couple, it made things all the more difficult. Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days and days felt like months. Waking up felt like a chore; you missed him like crazy. 

Even if you only heard from him on his time, it was better than not hearing from him at all. Exactly one month after that heartbreaking night at your prom, you found yourself on a plane to New York. Once school was out for the summer, you found yourself at the grocery store almost every single day in order to make enough money to afford a round-trip plane ticket to see Mark with the hopes of mending your broken relationship. In this last month, you came to the realization that you were willing to have Mark in your life even if it was only once or twice a week; it was better than not having him at all. 

“A105, A106, A107—A108. Here goes nothing.” 

You were afraid that in the last month, Mark could have realized that maybe this break should be a permanent decision. He hasn’t tried to get in touch with you once since your prom night nor did he try to visit you once while he was still in California—but then again, you couldn’t blame him. He was giving you the space you asked for; now, you were hoping and praying he was going to open the door and welcome you with open arms. You knocked a few times and it felt as though you were about to throw up your heart. When you had yet to hear a response, you reached forward to knock again. When the door finally opened, the person behind it wasn’t who you were hoping it would be.

“Y/n?”

[spc4eva]

Star-Burned: Chapter Three

Sundays are going to be posting days just like Mandokar. I've decided to also add the two pieces will be in the same collection in the same universe; so Paz has a sister who is with Din.

My headcanon is that many Death Troopers are Mandalorians who joined the Empire after the Great Purge. Just an fyi.

Word Count: 10,421

Rating: M (+18) oral sex f!receiving, unprotected sex

Masterlist

Cross Posted on AO3

So Jawas were alright.

They were kind of finicky because most of the time they were thieving little bastards and you really had to keep your eye on them. Sure, they could do nice things, they'd proven that before when they had brought back your parents' bodies without asking for payment. But... the moment they actually got to take a look at Paz's ship you knew you were in for it. They fucking wanted it. The entire thing. All of it. Your signs must've done a good job, because they hadn't come into the sheltered alcove where it was hidden like a lost treasure. The road led up to your farm, but the smoke churning up from the ship typically would've drawn them in like moths to a flame. Now the robed midgets were milling around, chirping in their language, and billeting Paz with questions that he couldn't understand. 

"What do they want?" Paz looked to you for guidance.

"Your whole ship," you laugh before glancing down at the lead Jawa, Tho Qeohe. You reasoned with him, discerning, in the past, the Jawas only by the different belts of items that they adorned their robes in. This ship belonged to someone, you were looking for assistance in standing it up and the appropriate parts to make the last repairs, which would probably include scrap metal, any engine parts, and landing gear. 

Make it worth it. What was there to offer that would be worth parting with that many materials and the addition of assistance? Jawas did not work for free and nor did they do favors, despite how long they'd known you. 

"They said you have to make it worth their while. They'd be willing to give the parts, but a good trade will be expected. Do you have anything... rare on your ship?" You ask Paz finally after quietly debating with Tho. Immediately, the Jawa pointed at his armor, which he had donned today. You shook your head, explaining that he was Mandalorian and the beskar was off the table entirely. There was an aggravated huff of dismay, Tho convinced that there would be little worthwhile that could otherwise be exchanged for all those parts. Unless... 

Oh-ho-ho the little buggers were trying to be cheeky now, tugging on your pant leg and gibbering excitedly. No, you needed your tip-yips, they were your solid source of protein. 

"I have a camtono of Exonium that was looking to sell once I got to the right spaceport," Paz offered, which... which was actually a good offer. You blink a few times and explain to the Jawas that the Mandalorian is willing to trade in his camtono of the fossil fuel. 

Not enough. Maybe two camtonos, but not just one. Groaning, you rub your face and consider again. You could part with a few tip-yips and perhaps request that Paz took you to the city so you could acquire a new bacta shot and tip-yips. Fine. The freaking birds could go, but Paz would have to take you back to the city because you needed the eggs. 

"I've come to an arrangement," you admit grudgingly. Why did these little assholes like eggs so much? They were chanting the awful word over and over again. "They'll take the camtono of Exonium and..." You grumble about your tip-yips, hoping that he wouldn't hear you.

"They want your chickens too?"

"Yeah, they're being brats. Jawas really like eggs," you explained, huffing a breath and crossing your arms over your chest. "I'd hate to be a bother, but I'm going to need a ride to the city in order to get more. I can't live out here without a solid, renewable source of protein."

"A bother?" Paz rumbled, a chuckle crackling in the edge of his vocoder. "Tracyn... I owe you considerably more than being a taxi to the city.  I'll buy the tip-yips for you. And the bacta shot you had to use."

Well... that was a fair deal... right? You wanted to ask him to throw his shiny bucket into the mix and just stay here, but that would've been crossing a line. Smiling dolefully, you turned back to Tho -- the sweet smile being replaced by a grimace and begrudging glare, which on you was not at all intimidating. Actually, it was sort of comical and Tho laughed at your attempt to posture in front of the Mandalorian. 

Jawas were restless buggers and got their work underway immediately. You had to supervise, mostly because you could hear them being evel kenivals and had to thump a few of their heads to keep them from worming their grubby hands into places they shouldn't. It was going to be a long few days. Thankfully, the one saving grace you'd gotten out of all of this was that Jawas knew tech. Be that droids, starships, cruisers, speeders -- you could name anything and they'd know it. You had rapport with them, despite the fact you had to chastise them at least four times every hour. By nature, they were sneaksie monsters. So you used that to your advantage, because they didn't want to spend more time than was necessary to keep up their end of the bargain.

They had the proper lifts and equipment to hoist the ship up, which you learned was called the Kote. Pieces of metal slopped off, just as you'd predicted and it made you wince. The Kote was old, but before this dogfight, actually seemed as if it had been in good condition; well maintained and kept up to date. The Jawas fussed, complained, kicked and cried like petulant children about being put to work instead of thieving. But they helped. Again, they didn't want to be there forever and so they helped solder parts on, repair the hull, and even Tho had gone as far to berate you for improperly wiring connections to the engine. Jawas were intelligent, no matter how much people looked down on them, they knew what they were doing. 

By the end of the third day you were a fucking mess. Your muscles were trembling, fending off exhaustion and hyped up on gallons of caf. But you couldn't go to sleep. Not when the Jawas were here. Not when they could pilfer things when you weren't keeping hawk eyes on them. 

Paz had tried to get you to rest, but you couldn't. He didn't speak their language or know what little shits they could be. You sort of loved how annoying they could be, in their own unique way, but you also knew that you were the glue bonding this entire arrangement together. 

"You need to rest, Tracyn," he insisted as you dropped the wrench for the fourth time in under 10 minutes. 

"Al-almost done," you insisted, managing to pin a puffy glare over at a Jawa who was eying your wrench. They knew you were testy now, each hour that passed knocking off another bit of your ever vanishing patience. Actually, you were probably in the sphere of negative patience.

"The Jawas are packing up. Tracyn... Tracyn please, you're going to kill yourself from exhaustion and the heat-" Paz grabbed your shoulders, steering you away from the landing gear that you had continued to work on. You managed to stick your tongue out at the nearest Jawa before being brought into the Kote. Your eyes blinked a few times, cutting the difference from the brightness of day and the dim of the hull. Maker, had it really been three days? Your brain was fried and you were working on fumes. "Hey... hey can you hear me?"

Had he been talking? You blink again, finally focusing on the snapping fingers beside your ear. "Hmm?"

"You need to go to sleep," Paz decided firmly.

"B-but," you were too emotional for this right now. Immediately your eyes began to fill up with tears. You were letting him down. What if the Jawas started stealing stuff? You were almost done. Just a couple more hours and it would've been good to go. "I can do it. I still have enough energy. Maybe another cup of caf will do the trick."

"You've drank enough to fuel a starship," Paz reminded you duly, brushing away the frustrated tears from your eyes. "C'mere, shh now. You're just over tired-" he grabbed you, pulling you into an embrace on his chest. The cool beskar felt good against your clammy skin, neck lolling naturally into the crook beneath his helmet. "Maker I would have never guessed you had so much energy in you. And all you want are tip-yips and a bacta shot for this?"

"I'm a simple girl," you sniffle in defeat. "And I like eggs just as much as Jawas."

His chest rumbled and you felt the laugh before you heard it, but the sound relaxed your warbling, his hands sliding underneath you before cradling you like a child. Had you been in a more sensible state of mind, you might've protested in worry that he could be hurting his ribs. While he felt strong enough to don his armor again, that didn't mean that the lingering injury wasn't hidden beneath. He was taking you deeper into the ship, opening the door to a room that was dimly lit. Your lashes were fluttering, sleep trying to smother you completely, but you rebelled against it - trying to figure out what was going on.

He was setting you down on a bed, ooh Maker the bed felt so nice. There were furs and blankets, so this wasn't your bed. Didn't have fur on your bed. Smelled like him -- blaster residue, leather, oil, and some kind of soap... you couldn't place it because you didn't use soap in a sonic shower like a water one. But it was nice. "Hmmm," a soft moan emanated from your throat and you'd all but forgotten you hadn't cleaned off in three days either since beginning your crusade to finish fixing the Kote. You were out within seconds of your head touching the pillow.

Paz pulled off your boots for you. You'd passed out completely after being set down, all flustered and moody. He'd tried to stop you earlier, only receiving a few combative looks, which included you puffing out your cheeks like a frog and raising your shoulders in a mock attempt to seem bigger than you were. You weren’t mean or off putting; you were determined and willful. He had also been helping where he could with welding, since he wasn't completely useless when it came to repairs. But you didn't stop. Even he had taken a few breaks, trying to coax you into shutting your eyes for a few minutes, but you'd scarfed down your rations, inhaled a cup of caf, and went back to work. Honestly, it was quite admirable and cute. 

You'd given up your tip-yips to get him these parts, part of your survival to make certain he could get off this orange rock. Now that the ship was nearly complete, he was beginning to realize he didn't really want to. He liked waking up to someone making him breakfast, someone to have easy conversation with, to just... relax around. Being Mandalorian meant he didn't often have these down times. He constantly had to have his head on a swivel, watching his back, finger ready on the trigger. But these weeks, despite the pain from his injury, had been calming. You were calming. 

The more he saw you in your element, the more he realized how strong you were. Not in a physical aspect, but mentally. It took a certain kind of person to be able to live out on their own without falling into an abysmal depression. You took each day as it was, put a foot forward while smiling, and had one of the most chipper, cheery dispositions he'd ever had the honor of crossing paths with. To top that off, you were an excellent mechanic, engineer, and he liked your food. Your silliness was a coping mechanism and part of your undeniable charm. And Paz was falling hard for you, maybe just as hard as his ship had crashed to this planet and the canyons nearest to your farm. 

Even now, he couldn't keep his gaze off of you, all oil smeared, hair a mess of curls, tangled and dirty from laying in the sand and fixating on the task at hand. He had to give it to you, you were capable of inhuman feats of fixation. He wished half the Foundlings he taught were capable of even an ounce of your tempered focus. You were the type that if you set your mind to something, you'd read all the books you could get your hands on before trying to learn how to do it yourself. 

And now with the Kote in good condition, Paz knew that your time together was coming to a close. He had to get back to the Tribe, to the planet the covert had relocated on, and that meant leaving you behind. He really wanted to ask you to come with him, perhaps as a crewmate to help around the ship, but because he wanted the chance to explore these growing feelings... but your farm. You loved the blasted thing so much and he couldn't take that from you. He doubted you'd want to go. For now, he'd enjoy what time he had left with you; his little ray of sunshine.

---

You woke up, still groggy and bone weary from your three day stint of making repairs. Maker, why hadn't you listened and just set your head down, because you felt like shit right now. Glancing around, you noticed that you were in some sort of chamber, which appeared to be on a ship from metal walls and floor. Oh. This must've been Paz's room on the Kote. It was coming back to you. The Kote was a decent enough sized gunship that it had a captain's cabin and crew quarters. You remembered because you had been inside fixing things.

The corners of your mouth quirked and you grabbed the canteen of water sitting by the side of the bed, taking a few generous gulps before getting up. Oh... oh you were gross. Three days of sweltering heat, dirt, grime, and oil. Fuck, why had he put you in his bed? You were literally as smelly as a womp rat. Arms held out slightly, you waddle around, trying to locate the Mandalorian. Outside the cabin, you found him over by an open arsenal, jaw dropping at the ensemble of weapons that were hung neatly. Shit, you knew that Mandalorians considered weapons their religion, but you didn't think one person needed quite that many.

Paz turned and caught you staring, your arms still held out as it felt too grimy to put them back down. "How're you feeling, mesh'la?"

"Better," you admit honestly. "Dirty."

"Go wash up in the fresher," he offered, pointing in its direction.

"Uhm," you considered it for a beat before glancing back at him. "How do I use it?" That felt like a stupid question, but honestly you didn't know how. Sonic showers you just pressed a button to turn on. Water had things like... pressure valves, gauges, and oh dear lord you were overthinking something so simple but that's what you did. Everything was methodical up in that brain of yours and managing water flow and heat seemed overly complex. 

Paz got up and escorted you to the fresher, which was big enough to accomodate a good sized person, such as himself. A toilet, a sink, and a large shower. There was just one knob. "You turn it like this and then twist it this way if you want it warmer," he demonstrated by turning it on, water hissing like a snake and making you jump back into him. He didn't laugh at you, which made your thankful, cheeks burning as you watched it pitter down like rain into the drain. "I have some spare clothes you can borrow."

That you could borrow? One of his shirts was going to be a tent on you! But... your coveralls were filthy. "Thanks." He left you to it, closing the door behind him as you faced your newest challenge: taking a shower in water. Now, you'd been rained on before, but you'd never taken a shower in it. Clearing your throat, you began stripping, peeling off the offensive and smelly articles, before standing awkwardly in front of the shower. Finally, you tested it with a hand, snapping it back as if you'd been burnt. Oh, ok... so just wash in it... Seemed wasteful, but then again other planets weren't as water starved. Other planets were green and had oceans. Some had ice. 

You'd like to see them if it didn't mean leaving your farm. But how would that be possible? 

Rather than linger any longer as the water continued to billet into the glass door, you hopped in and slid the door shut. Ooooh, this was really nice. The water was just a little warmer than your skin, the way that the dirt and grim started to slide right off. Your curls soaked through, a thick heavy mop against your back. Soap. You glanced around, noticing a part of soap and a bottle of shampoo. Usually you just used deodorant, since in sonic showers you didn't wash with anything. This soap was what you had smelled in bed, full bodied and clean. Humming to yourself, you absolutely went to town. Strangely, you were feeling a lot cleaner than a sonic shower had ever made you feel. Layers of dead skin scrubbed off, flushed from how hard you'd worked it, to the point where you were pink and raw but oh-so-clean. 

When you turned the water off -- incorrectly at first, dousing yourself with ice cold water -- you popped your head out to see that a towel and clothes had been left in place of your dirty ones. How was he so thoughtful? Why was he so thoughtful? It made you smile regardless, taking up the towel and drying yourself off, a pleasant warmth radiating in your chest from the Mandalorian’s thoughtfulness. Your curls were soaked through and required being tied up in the towel to scrunch off some of the dampness. Paz had left you one of his undershirts and... nothing else. At first you were a little worried that you'd not be covered up enough, but that quickly changed after sliding it on with a pair of socks. You were pretty much covered, like a child trying on their parent's clothing. The shirt fell over your knees, the socks -- also his -- came up to your knees. The long sleeves were waaay too long for you, so you had to push those up before stumbling out of the fresher. No underwear. Those were being cleaned too.

So the moment you stepped out, a rush of fresh air went right underneath the hem of the shirt and attacked between your thighs. You swallowed hard and then managed to look over at Paz, as he'd returned to checking on his weapons. "How was it?"

"I've been in water before, but not like that. Just torrential downpours," you admit, coming to sit across from him, pulling the shirt down over your knees carefully so you don't accidentally flash him. "But it was really nice. You get to do that everyday?"

"Yes, as long as there's enough water in the tanks," he replied, which made you stiffen. How much water had you used? You'd been in there for a while. "Water isn't that expensive on other planets."

"Oh," you relaxed. "Weird." Turning your head down you look at what you believe it was a rifle, carefully taken apart. "Why did you do this? Was it broken?"

"Hm?" he glanced back down. "I was cleaning it."

"Oh, I didn't know they had to be cleaned." You wish you hadn't said that, because Paz was looking at you -- with what you could only assume was a shocked or incredulous expression beneath his helmet.

"You've... never cleaned that blaster that you have?"

"Uhhhhh," you tried to dredge up any memory of cleaning it, but came up blank. "No."

"Have you ever fired it? I can't imagine there's much here you'd need it for."

"I've fired it," you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. You weren't a good shot. Not really. Especially since you didn't have a reason to practice. You just figured having it might save you from a chance encounter with any sort of wildlife that didn't get along with you. Which had yet to happen due to your natural affinity with them.

"How often?"

Again, no immediate answer. "Dunno, maybe like... once a year to check it." That was pushing it. You hadn't fired it in the last year, but you were trying to make yourself not sound half that bad.

He got up, finding your utility belt and removing the dingy little blaster. It looked so pitiful when compared to his clean, neatly arranged rifle. He sat back down and patted the space beside him. "C'mere, let's take a look." You scooted over to his side of the table obediently, anxious as to the wisdom a Mandalorian could impart. "Maker, this hasn't been oiled in ages-" he was trying to take it apart, the rusted bolts grinding with sand caught between them. Your face was starting to burn -- swelter actually -- because you knew that wasn't right, didn't take a genius to know that. It sounded awful.

He forced the slide off and there was a snap, the tiny little screw crumbling completely in a puff of metal and rust. "Well..." he started. "I'm surprised it still fired."

"Maybe..." you whispered self consciously. "I haven't tried recently."

"That's good... in it's own way," he assured you, despite the fact your blaster was most definitely broken because of your own negligence. "Here, let's take a look at mine instead. You're not going to be able to salvage that."

He removed his own blaster, twice the size of yours, and clean as a whistle. "Now, pistols come in different shapes and sizes, utilize different types of plasma -- some even use slugs. This is a standard cartridge pistol, but it's been made for my own hand. Slide comes off one the top like this-" Paz dove into the details, removing each piece, demonstrating in front of you the proper and safe manner in which it came apart. Your attention was rapt, soaking it in like a sponge, the details, where you needed to clean and oil and how often you should do it. Apparently, if you were practicing, you should clean it later in the evening -- which you'd never done. Letting the residue sit on the metal wasn't good, it corrode in the inner workings and the weapon wouldn't last as long as it could. 

"Show me how to put it back together now," he requested, leaving it on the table disassembled.

You liked puzzles and that's what this was. One, intricate puzzle. He'd done it piece by piece, so this wasn't really much of a challenge. Rocking forward on your knees, you started with the grip, unlocked the trigger mechanism and began returning the parts to their home. You pinched your finger once, but it didn't so much more than make you suck a little air before continuing. Finally, you had a weapon in your hand, just as when Paz had removed it from his holster.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

All the pieces were gone until he opened his glove and revealed the firing pin, the most important part and you'd built the pistol around nothing. Without the firing pin, it was all just for show. "Were you hiding that?"

"Wanted to see if you'd notice," he mused, sounding as if he were smiling beneath that bucket.

"That's not very nice, now I have to take it apart again," you sighed deeply, reaching for the firing pin, but he snaked his arm away and from your grasp. "Hey!" You followed after him, realizing that he was teasing you, keeping the last piece just out of your grasp as you flailed, trying to steal it from him, failing spectacularly as he deftly evaded your clumsy jabs. 

"The firing pin is the most important part. I'm surprised you managed to put it together and not realize," Paz continued to elude you, which was impressive considering how big he was and that you were now standing up, still trying to wrestle it from him. 

"I'm a farmer, not a Mandalorian," you remind him, grunting as he palms your stomach and pushes you just out of reach, your short arms struggling in vain. 

"You're a lot more than just a farmer. Engineer and mechanic also come to mind," he let the firing pin come just within grasp and you went for it, taking the bait greedily just like Jumbles ate the eggs right off your lap. Paz removed his hand from your stomach and you fell. 

Sailing right through the air, you tried to catch yourself as the breath whooshed out of you, heart thundering at the loss of stability, a garbled yelp escaping the back of your throat. Then there were hands, just as quickly as there hadn't been, cushioning your fall before you made impact with Paz's lap. You weren't a fan of that trick, trying to calm down as he picked you up and righted you. "Y-y-you couldn't j-just gi-ive it t-t-to me?"

"No, that was a little too fun," he admitted to your chagrin. The beskar was cold, leaching through the thick shirt you were wearing, which had climbed up a few inches since you'd been dumped in his lap, nearly baring your ass. You shivered, the firing pin finally in your grasp, glancing down at the pistol as your heart rate began to pick up in an accelerando. "Fix it."

Like this? On his lap? Oh dear, your mind was already beginning to churn a little slower than usual. Shifting, you fumbled for the pistol, fingers clammy and not as deft and confident as usual. Your loose curls puffed around you, mostly dry from your shower and smelling absolutely divine. But it was sort of in your way. You blew a curl out of your face, jolting when you felt a gloved finger trace along the crown of your ear and tuck a few strands out of the way. Your heart picked up again. Now you were glaring at the pistol as if it'd called your mother a fat bantha. Don't be distracted. You can do this. You can-- a hand wrapped around your midsection, dragging you further onto his lap, flush against his cuirass. Ok, you weren't thinking of anything more than each minute thing that the Mandalorian did.

From the steady rise and fall of his chest, the palm on your leg massaging into your flesh, the other one tight against your abdomen. Focus! He was doing this on purpose. This was all a part of his game -- and. you. weren't. gonna. lose. Were you a sore loser? Honestly, you hadn't played many games except with the Jawas and you liked to rub it in their rude little faces when you won. So yeah, you probably were a sore loser. 

"Mesh'la," he drawled in your ear, causing you to tilt your neck back, throat bobbing as you finally had the pistol taken apart enough that you could return the firing pin to its home. "Can you be a good girl for me?"

You were convinced he was still trying to distract you. "W-why?"

"Because you look so pretty putting that pistol back together. Can you be good for me?" he murmured and that's when you realized it, this was a turn on for him. Seeing you, someone absolutely clueless about weapons, learn from him and then put it together piece by piece... You froze where you were, wondering how to perceive this new bit of information. You were already growing flustered, a combination of arousal and competitiveness making your cheeks hot and attention wane. There was something incredibly sexy about trying to impress a Mandalorian with your newly found skills in taking a pistol apart, even if you weren't a good shot. You just hadn't thought that he'd enjoy it so much.

"What do you want me to do?" you questioned softly, your rapid pace grinding down slowly, nearly to a halt. Replaced now with the gunning of your heart rate and the ever increasing blush jetting across your features. 

"Finish and then close your eyes," he instructed. 

Nodding, you completed the last pieces of the puzzle and reached to place the pistol down, finding that your arms were too short to reach the table. His hand moved from your leg, taking it and sliding it back into his holster. The next breath you took stuttered, your nerves getting the better of you as you closed your eyes. Paz shifted and then pressed a button on his vambrace, plunging the cabin into total darkness. You couldn't see, because you hadn't opened your eyes, but you could tell by the way your lids were now completely dark.

A soft click, followed by hydraulic hissing made you tilt, steadied by the man before you before your heart rocketed into your throat. The thick blanket of your hair was pushed to the side, scratchy facial hair meeting the tender side of your neck, and Maker -- oh, it was his mouth. The realization made you groan, a strangled, pitiful noise as you comprehended why he'd asked you to close your eyes. Just another safety precaution on top of the cover of night in the Kote. He sucked at your skin, biting marks down the side which burned as they were exposed to the air. 

You were making the most delicious mewling noises as he kissed your skin, confirming that his decision was certainly worth it. He owed you more than this he thought, but he was also on borrowed time. In his shirt, trying to learn about weapons after he'd broken your rusted out blaster, and then managing to fixate on putting it back together despite his roaming hands... You'd done a good job too and his trick had been rather underhanded. You had put the pistol together with what you were given and he couldn't fault you for that. But perhaps he had been hoping you'd notice right away. He was still impressed that you'd been able to do it at all. There were a lot of pieces to a gun and you'd been undaunted. Then again, you were good with machines, so he hadn't expected anything less from someone who had taught themselves how to repair a starship from books.

You were precious and didn't deserve to be alone. He didn't want to leave you alone. He wanted more time to sit at a table with you, to teach you how to defend yourself, to show you all the places you were missing that were just as beautiful and wild as your home planet -- but in unique ways of their own. He wanted to bottle your sunshine and take it with him. He was afraid to let you go, afraid you'd meet your parents' fate, and that his world would be a little darker if he came back to this planet to say hello and found out you were gone. That's why this felt right, because he wanted you and didn't want to frighten you by saying it -- forcing your hand in coming with him when you loved it here. 

And what did he have to offer other than himself? A constantly moving home? A covert that had to hide in the shadows? Being gone for long periods of time when he had to go on hunts to provide for the Tribe? 

His mouth met the hollow of your throat, you'd been slowly turning in his grasp to his will. Cradling you in one arm, bent down to lavish attention on your neck, his other palm meeting your chest again. Ankles twisted out into the darkness in front of you, your own hands clinging to his leg as you held yourself firm, pushing your chest out a little, into his grasp as he finally crested over your jaw and met your own mouth. You were overwhelmed in an instant, an explosion of heat and sensation that rocked your whole body as you got lost in his embrace. You already knew his lips were soft, but flush to yours, they were heaven and you never wanted them to leave. 

He was gentle, so astonishingly gentle for such a large, imposing man. Kindly plying at your mouth before you were the one who lost your patience. Your lips parted and you licked his eagerly, seeking entrance, wanting to feel all of him. He acquiesced, filling your mouth with his heat, tongue interlocking and a gasp causing you to sputter as he squeezed your nipple. When... when did his hand get under the shirt? You hadn't noticed, distracted entirely by the electricity you felt while kissing him. 

He broke away and you whimpered, thumbs swirling circles around the stiffening peak of your nipple, flesh pebbled. "Good girl... can I take it off?"

"It's your shirt, you can take it back whenever you want," you breathed, deserving a light chuckle as he pulled it up and over your head. Careful to keep your eyes shut, your bare ass met the beskar and you hissed.

"Let's move to the bedroom," he suggested.

You nod, about to get on your own two feet when he gets up with you in his arms. You hoped his ribs weren't hurting, but you felt a bit guilty in admitting that you sort of didn't care, because you were wondering about what was going to happen. He placed you carefully on the bed and from the sound of it, he was reaching into a drawer. 

"Mesh'la? I'm going to put this over your eyes. Just in case?" he offered it to you so that you knew what it was, the soft gossamer material sliding against your pads. A blindfold? 

"Ok." You wanted his mouth back, squirming as you waited and he secured the blindfold around your head. While it was unfortunate that you couldn't see his body, you were still highly aroused by the amount of trust he had in you to ask for just closed eyes and now a blindfold. Huffing anxiously, you gripped one of your breasts, thumbing your nipple while waiting, wondering what he was doing. 

Finally, after a couple of minutes, he returned, the bed depressing as he climbed onto it. Robbed of your sight, you leaned heavily on your sense of hearing and touch. And your hearing was shot, really only aware of the pounding of your pulse as you yearned to be touched again. A hand planted beside you, warmth radiating off of him as if he were a heater, before he kissed your collar, jolting you like a little shock of electricity, a sigh of relief following and easing your shoulders. Why... why was he doing this? Not that you were complaining, Maker no, you definitely weren't complaining -- it's just... No one had ever spent this much time on you. 

He was sucking welts into your skin, each one sending lancing ripples of pleasure across your exposed flesh, as he made way down to your breasts which, admittedly, made you a bit nervous again. "Mesh'la?" he noticed that you were holding your breath. "What's wrong?"

"I-they're sensitive. And... in the past-" Oh you were going to ruin the mood, but what if he accidentally hurt you too? That would definitely ruin the mood. He’d been careful before, but this wasn’t last night and you were fully exposed for him to do as he pleased.

"I'm going to be gentle, I know..." he assured you, pressing featherlight kisses around your breasts before taking a nipple in his mouth. He teased the skin lightly, nibbling, sucking. All doubts you had evaporated like water after the wet season and you exhaled deeply again, chased with a moan of agreement. "I'd never hurt you, mesh'la. Never." And you believed him, with all your heart you believed this terrifying, intimidating warrior of legend would never hurt a hair on your head.

Massaging the breast he wasn't kissing, you arched into his palm, core melted completely, taken aback by how much this was doing for you. Your thighs pressed together, trembling with anticipation, your bundle of nerves vying for attention. He moved lower, dragging his tongue along your ribs, creating more marks on your soft tummy, before his beard scratched along your hips and you bucked. A strong hand guided your legs apart and you didn't resist, needing attention down there as you panted as if you’d run two miles and the rest of your body vibrated in expectancy. 

You were expecting his hand, so when the warmth of his mouth met you down there you actually screamed. 

"Woah! Hey, it's alright-" he jumped up, holding your hip down as you almost began hyperventilating. 

"S-sorry. Y-you su-urprised m-me," you stammered through your confusion and fright, trying to gulp down breaths to steady your heart rate. Now, you'd given blowjobs before, but none of the men had ever reciprocated. "Yo-you don't have t-to." You'd never even suggested it before, coming under the assumption that it was just a dirty thing that men didn't like to do. "D-don't feel obligated be-because I-"

"Has no one done this to you before?"

You shook your head, cheeks flushing, thankful for the darkness to hide your face. Or... that's what you thought. You didn't know there was a light on in the room and Paz could see everything going on. So then why did you shake your head? You were too frazzled to think straight.

"Mesh'la, I want to. I want to taste you everywhere."

The confession made you whimper wistfully. "But I thought-" that guys didn't like to do this.

"I don't know why someone wouldn't have by now," Paz admitted, caressing the skin he'd marked up, admiring your complexion and body.. Even as he told you this, part of him was further aroused that he'd be the first to take this from you. "You're so pretty. Everywhere. Especially down there. Will you let me?"

Part of you was disconcerted, battling with the idea that you'd thought was a no-go for most people. But then you thought about how nice the warmth of his mouth had felt and the trust you had in him to make you feel good. Finally, you nodded again. 

Paz returned between your legs, carefully warning you as he blew on your clit before lathing his tongue over it. Your neck jerked and you arched immediately, the new, foreign sensation making you cry out, but not of surprise. Gripping the blankets, your legs trembled, his palm keeping you from closing and squeezing on him. His tongue was softer than his fingers, more dexterous and able to fill your clit up entirely, tracing it in a new way that felt erotically luxurious and overwhelming. "So sweet, love. And wet. All of this for me?"

You hummed in agreement, barely able to control yourself as you clenched your teeth between huffs. Why had no one done this before? Stars, you had no idea what you were missing out on. How much more was there that you'd not experienced? He sucked on your bud, switching between lavishing attention and swirling circles. He trailed down, his tongue dipping between your folds, the insides of your sensitive thighs catching the rough edge of his facial hair. 

He returned to your aching nerves, laying into you as his tongue flicked quickly, clutching your thigh as your breaths became more labored. You couldn't see, but you felt it coming, scooping low into your pelvis, pressure building to the point where you felt the reins of your control slipping and you got choked up. He might've spoken had his mouth not been what was dragging you to the proverbial edge, destroying you, obliterating you like the Death Star had done to countless planets. You disintegrated, the same bird flying over the edge, but this time both wings were healed and you soared into the sky. You kept riding, his mouth replaced with fingers as he continued his ministrations through your orgasm. 

"That's it mesh'la," he soothed, the deep voice cradling you as you panted and came down, legs clutching as your clit became intensely oversensitive. He licked between your folds, removing his hand from your swollen clit and began lapping up the mess you'd made. 

"W-wh-wha," you were breathy and a little incoherent, speech slurring as you tried to fumble around for him blindly. 

"What is it?" he inquired calmly.

"Wh-what about you?"

"Do you want to keep going?"

"Mhm."

"Tell me what you want," he edged up the bed, coming down to lay beside you, returning his mouth to yours. He was wet, facial hair damp from eating you out, and his tongue was tacky. The taste was foreign, but not unpleasant and a little sweet. He wasn't wearing any beskar now, which must've been why it had taken him a moment to come to bed. Your palm met his bare chest and you savored the ability to finally be able to explore it. You were careful, not wishing to brush too hard against his ribs, but what you felt was as impressive as what you'd seen before. Your fingers butterflied over his strong pectoral muscles, trailing to meet in the center as you coasted between his ribs and to his solid abdomen. He was broad, hips bigger than yours, a wisp of hair descending below the belt. 

"This," you slid your hand underneath his waistband, not surprised to find him hard after playing with you. It'd been like this last time. Even though you claimed it, you were partially terrified of trying to accommodate his cock. A thrill rushed through you, the idea of the immense pleasure it could bring or how it'd fuck you within an inch of your life. There was no knowing until you tried and you wanted to try. 

He huffed in your ear, "You certain?"

"Yes," you asserted, squeezing him and enjoying the moan that followed; your small palm couldn’t even fully encircle his girth. Yet it was the unmodulated tone of his bass, filling your belly up with warmth as he laid beside you. Stars, his voice was so much better, if that were even possible. Every breath, noise, and huff no longer crackling with static and the full heat of it numbing your senses. 

"You... should be wet enough, but-" he considered you, Maker he wanted to do it, but you were so small. You weren't frail, you'd proven this by now, but the difference in size between the two of you was severe. You only reached up to his chest while standing, not even his shoulders. He was afraid of breaking you. 

Now your hands had wormed down and you cupped his balls, squeezing all recourse from his mind as he moaned again. "I trust you."

Paz drew in a deep breath, filling his diaphragm as he considered the logistics very, very briefly. His ribs still hurt and they were aching now. "You'll have to go on top, mesh'la."

You were always up for a challenge, despite the fact that his words sort of scared you. On top? As in getting speared by him? Absolutely split open with nowhere to go? He was rubbing reassuring circles into your side, giving you the time you needed to think about this before you finally gave another 'mhm'. Hooking your fingers of the waistband of his pants, you helped guide them off before he sprung up in your palm. Able to estimate where his hips were, you threw a leg over and pressed his shaft into the heat of your folds, beginning to slick him with your wetness. Each stroke against him was debilitating, from the sensation of your pussy, to the way your perky breasts bobbed, and the cascade of hair fanned out in a curly cloak behind you. Paz was absolutely entransed. 

Finally, you decided you were wet enough to make your attempts. Realizing what you were about to do, he gripped your hips as you came up onto your knees, touching his weeping head to your heat. Your legs began to quiver, anxious but also excited, blood rushing as quickly and suddenly as a flash flood as you tested carefully. Just his head stretched you wide and there was more to follow. This was gruelling work, so painfully slow that you weren't even certain it was possible as you coasted down an inch and stiffened. Drawing a deep breath, you shimmied more and let out a heart stopping moan. The rest of him slicked up and you yelped as he was buried to the hilt.

Both of you froze, mostly you because you hadn't expected the rest to go in so easily. Not easily exactly. Your entire insides felt as if they'd been rearranged at this point and you didn't know if that was good or bad or if moving would make it worse. So you sat there, on the brink of panic.

Paz was frozen because you were so fucking tight. His cock felt as if it were being strangled by you and you weren't even doing anything. His head fell heavy against the pillow and he tried not to spend himself in that moment, but it was difficult. You were silken inside, the tight walls a vice grip around his cock and pulsing around him. 

And then you moved, testing the waters a little bit and bucking forward as you knew this was going to obliterate you. Not in the same sense as the orgasm Paz had brought you to before, but in the sense you were going to hurt tomorrow. Even now your legs ached as you mounted him, refusing to move properly as you tried to ride him. 

He could see your struggling and the valiant effort you were making to move, but he gleaned that this was overwhelming for you too, your pubic area distended slightly as your tiny frame managed to fit him. Maker, the sight of that caused him to shift, grinding his hips into you, watching as you released the lip you were biting and cry out gently. He could see his own form in you, stretching you, but somehow still fitting aside from the telltale bulge.

"We can... we can stop-" Paz offered despite the fact he didn't want that. He wanted to keep going. He wanted to see how he moved inside of you, filled you up, and made you whimper. His thoughts were derailing and he was losing his composure. 

"N-no. I just... need help," you told him dolefully.

He could do that. "Just tell me if it's too much." He began slowly before smoothing his hands along your hips. The last thing he wanted to do was break you before leaving you on your own. The rhythm was slow at first, each soft strike causing you to moan in protest, but it was the slowness that hurt more. You began to move into him, picking the pace up a bit, working in tandem so that his hands could guide and assist your trembling legs. It still hurt, but it was a blistering white burst, each hit against your pelvis a battle between pleasure and pain. Maker, you'd never been stretched so wide before and it was so good, an experience of ecstasy you’d never had the honor of battling, clenching your jaw as you fought for control and were beginning to unravel at the seams. 

You moaned his name finally, incapable of keeping a straight face, the result an even quicker assault into your cunt, his fingers brushing back against your clit as you panted. 

"Mesh'la, Maker-- you're so fucking good. So tight and perfect. Cum for me a second time? Will you?"

"Mm," you couldn’t even talk as you could feel it building up in you as he drew quick circles, pounding into you, your back aching as you tensed. Your ailing core was glazing over and your eyes rolling back into your head as you started to fall away. "A-ah. I-I'm going to, b-but-" Where would he finish? You weren't on any kind of birth control, you hadn't needed to be for a couple of years now. 

He shifted, throwing you down against the mattress with ease, before continuing to strike into you. This angle was different, his mouth meeting yours, the soft mutterings in a language you didn't understand not mattering. You knew he was saying sweet things in your ear. "Where?" he knew it was coming, you were on the brink of an orgasm, toes curling. 

"O-on me," you managed, just as your body betrayed you, muscles snapping into rigidity and voice halting to a pitiful whine in the back of your throat as you lost sense of up and down. You were snared by the rapture of each forceful pound into your cunt, fingers still tracing your clit, until you were overwhelmed entirely and mumbling incoherently. 

It took all his will as you clamped down around him, walls fluttering and back arching beneath him. The darling noises in tandem with how good you felt made it gut wrenching to pull out and stroke out the last few bits of his orgasm, spending his seed on your breasts and stomach. The pearly ropes flew from him as if he hadn't just been sucked dry a few nights ago. Glistening in the low light with his cum, your chest continued to bob as you came down from your high a second time. You were a pretty sight, one that he admired as you tried to catch your breath. 

Eventually, you brushed your chest, coming away with the sticky cum. Bringing it up, you slid your fingers into your mouth, suckling away the precious liquid just as you had done before. You savored the taste of him, finding yourself hungry for it again after last night. Paz was leaning back against the headboard, length twitching as he watched you lazily mop up his spent load and place it between those plush lips and swallow. You missed a few spots in your blindness, but Paz scooped it up, bringing it to your mouth where you cleaned his fingers. He kissed you after, an insistence mess of his lips as he tried to prove what he was feeling with that kiss. 

"Mesh'la," he purred, pulling you back across the bed and into his arms. You fit perfectly enough that he could snake his arm around your hip and nestle onto the curve of your ass.  "Are you hurt? How are you feeling?"

"Good.. tired, but good," you mumbled, naturally nuzzling into the side of his pec as his arm came around you like that other night. Your legs ached, numbed slightly and from how you’d been split open further than ever before, but you didn't regret any of it. "Was it good for you? I'm sorry I had to ask for help."

"Don't be sorry, I didn't think you'd even be able to fit me," he chuckled, brushing your thick hair back and coasting his thumb in crescents along your hipbone. "You were amazing. So perfect. Just wish my ribs weren't still hurting."

"Are they ok right now?" you reached up gingerly, grazing over the afflicted side. 

"They're fine." 

"Maybe I shouldn't have... you did turn me over at the end..."

"Shh, I'm fine," he assured you, grabbing the edge of the blanket and tugging it over both of your forms. "Just go to sleep. I'll be here in the morning. You're safe."

"I know," you mumble, nearly incoherent as you're pushing a kiss into his collarbone. "I know."

--- 

He was there like promised when morning came, strong, solid, warm, and snuggled close, but you were also duly reminded that you hadn't been home a lot in the last few days while working on the Kote. You really didn't want to leave his side, because there were probably only a few days left of getting to be beside him, but you also couldn't ignore your animals. The idea of pulling away made your every fiber shriek in disdain, because you’d wanted this more than anything. To wake up beside someone, to be in their arms, and to just waste an entire day there.

"Paz," you whispered, poking his chest lightly. 

"Hm?" he sounded groggy, as if you'd woken him up by doing that.

"I have to go check on the farm," you said apologetically. Truly, you didn’t want to go. "Do you have your helmet nearby so I can get up?"

His fingers tightened around you, the idea of having to lose you not a fond one, but you had responsibilities. Sighing, he grabbed it off of the nightstand and slid it back on, smothering the clean smell of you and the breaths he’d once felt against his cheek. Each moment that you both lingered like this staved off the eventual separation. Chasing it away like a bad dream. But sleep was coming and you couldn't keep that nightmare away forever, nor the sorrow that would chase after. "I'll meet you there in a bit."

You removed the blindfold after the sound of the helmet clicking back into place. Finally able to see, his chest was revealed to you and you could make out the lattice work of scars along it that you hadn't quite noticed before when you'd stripped him to heal him. They were hidden beneath his chest hair, but this close, you could really see them. Maybe you'd get to ask about them before he left. You tried not to wince at the idea, shoving it to the back of your mind after pressing a kiss to his chest. 

"Where did you put my clothes?" 

"In the ion cleaner, next to the fresher."

"See you soon," you hummed, heading out, naked as the day you were born to find your clothes where he'd told you. They were clean and fresh, vacant of oil and clay filled sand. Throwing it back on, you snapped the scrunchie on your wrist around your hair and smiled gently. This was his home, so neat and clean when it wasn't in disarray from a crash landing. It suited him, you decided. There was a homey feeling to it despite it just being a starship. Maybe that was because of the night you'd shared around the table, talking about something that was a part of his everyday life, leaning about it... he had described everything so well to you.

There was only one speeder bike, but you knew the path well enough that walking on this fine morning wasn't a big deal. Sunlight smiling over the ridge, not yet basking you in its warmth as it hadn’t crested the edge of the canyon. Trudging up the pass, you hummed a soft tune, finding that despite your legs being a kind of achy, that you're in a really good mood. It didn't really skim your mind that you hadn't seen Jumbles in a few days. He wasn't actually your pet, just a wild animal that liked your company. He was probably fine, hunting in the nearby passes while you only checked in periodically to feed the remaining tip-yips. Wait... How many days had it been? It might've been two since you went home.

Picking up your pace, you chugged up the rest of the hill and glanced at the coop. No chickens. Aw hell, did those fucking assholes take all of them? Usually they made pretty well on their bargains. Fuck. You'd have a stern talking to Tho next time you saw him. Maybe you'd be even angrier if you weren't in such a pleasant mood from your evening with Paz, but you were already destined to go to the city. Grumbling, you stomped over toward your home something catching your eye. Not something... more like a few things. There were a handful of speeder bikes out in front of your house.

Had someone stopped by? Ah, well as long as they hadn't dumped the place you supposed that was fine. Make themselves at home within reason. You went to the front door and opened it, somewhat excited to have other guests. Man, so many people all in such a short amount of time! 

And then your chipper smile slid right off. Sitting at your kitchen table was a pod of stormtroopers. "Uhhhhhhhh," you froze in the doorway. You were good at fixing things, but reacting on a dime during a stressful encounter? Shit. You were absolute massiff shit at that. 

"Do you live here?" one trooper inquired.

"Y-yeah," you looked between them, realizing that they were playing Sabacc. Ha. That was kind of funny. "Am I in trouble? Can I help you with anything?" You clasped your hands in front of you to keep them from shaking. The Empire had been looking for Paz. Is that why they were here? Nothing else on this planet that might interest them.

"Depends. Have you seen a Mandalorian?"

You giggle, because you're extremely nervous and that seems the logical thing to do. Had you seen a Mandalorian? You'd slept with him last night. Was that the Mandalorian they were looking for? "Nu-uh," you lied, hooking your fingers in your utility belt. "Why would a Mandalorian be all the way out here? Ain't nothing out here."

"You're out here," a stormtrooper pointed out. This one was in all black armor and he sounded more dangerous than the others. The grit of his tone raked unpleasantly down your spine and your anxious smile quavered. "What's a pretty little thing doing out in the middle of nowhere?"

"Workin'," you grumble.

"No husband? No family?" 

"Gotta husband," you protested, hoping that saying this would deter them from doing anything... bad. Kriff, what were you kidding, they were going to do whatever they wanted unless Paz was right behind you and you knew he wasn't. 

"No, you don't," the dark stormtrooper laughed. "You're here on your own. I know, because I went through this shack."

Fuck. Welp. You had two choices and you didn't have a blaster, so you turned around and fucking booked it. Flight. Definitely flight. You heard them shuffling after you, legs regrettably weak from your tryst with Paz and you were stubby and short. Adrenaline did a good amount of the work for you as you sprinted back down into the ravine, sorta praying a krayt dragon would pop up and save your sorry ass. 

"Stop running!" You were yanked right off your feet, held up by the back of your coveralls like a kitten. You garbled, losing a chunk of the oxygen in your lungs as you swayed. "You know where he is, don't you?"

"N-no! I do-on't know w-what you're talkin' 'bout!" You thrashed helplessly in his grasp, the dark trooper leaning in. 

"Mhm, so I'm guessing that your nonexistent husband gave these to you," he poked at a sensitive mark on your neck, making you gasp, completely forgetting that Paz had given you those. "I mean, if I found you out here on your own, I probably would've done the same. Look at you. Must be lonely to let some random mando sleep with you. Tell us where he is and I'll show you a better time. What a real Mandalorian is like."

He was Mandalorian? He was wearing the wrong armor. You gave him a look down before bucking, continuing to thrash to no avail. Nothing ever happened on this planet. Why the one time something really good happened it was followed by the freaking Empire? 

"Stop," the trooper ordered, but you didn't, you just kept flopping around like a fish hoping he'd drop you. "Stop!" He slapped you so hard that you felt it in zip all the way down to your toes. Now you stopped, ears ringing and eyes unfocused as stars danced in front of your vision. "There. That's a good girl. Now tell me where the Mandalorian is and I'll be a little nicer next time." Good girl? No, he hadn’t done anything to deserve calling you that.

You gave him a contemptuous glare after your vision stopped spinning, still rather pitiful coming from you. He was waiting for an answer. So you cursed at him in Jawaese, deserving of another earth rending slap. 

"You've seen him. Where. Is. He?" he drew his blaster and pointed it at you, cold metal meeting your tender throat. "I thought people were hospitable on this planet. You've been nothing but a hassle. The Mandalorian's not worthy dying over. Just tell us where he is and we'll let you go."

Maybe the Jawas hadn't taken your tip-yips. How many days had the Imps been here? You glanced around, jaw stinging and weary from your fight. You were still off your feet like a petulant loth-cat being held by its scruff. The other troopers were milling around, kicking over supplies, they'd pushed 6PO to the ground and it couldn't get up, legs flailing, cricking quietly as it couldn't speak to ask for help. Jumbles wasn't around, which didn't make any sense. Jumbles was always around. Jumbles was-- and then you saw him. Over by the barn door where you stored your speeder bikes, his legs sticking out from the door. 

"Jumbles?" But you knew he wasn't going to get up. You knew you weren't going to see his stupid drooling face. You could feel the lack of lifeforce from him. They weren't going to let you go. No, one of the stormtroopers was pouring fuel all over the tip-yip coop, another was pilfering through your greenhouse. "Jumbles?!" You were more hysteric this time, blinking tears as you began crying over the massiff. 

The death trooper glanced in the direction of the barn. "Oh that?" he tilted his blaster away to laugh. "That thing was your pet? Thought only Tuskens kept them. Learn something new everyday. So, what's it gonna be, dala?"

[braveskyered]

Knights (Part 19)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

(Special Thanks once again to @nebulous-rain​ for providing one of the illustrations. Please check her out if you have the time!)

-

Do you understand the severity of these terms?

…

…You know what? I don’t think I should repeat myself if you’re just going to ignore me.

Just like in reality, in fiction, anything goes.

Not everything is all lovely sunshine and daisies.

Life is never fair.

Not to you.

Not to me.

And especially not to them.

I wonder how much you’re willing to believe, or even believe in them at all.

After all…

We all make mistakes, don’t we?

And yet one will always never forgive them, no matter the apologies they genuinely give.

Aren’t you the same way?

I look forward to seeing where your journey takes you.

-

Part 19: Thought I Told Ya Stop Fuckin’ With Me!

- - - - - - -

April XX, 20XX

I don't even know what I'm doing. I'm so scared of what will happen to me, but I couldn't let myself go through this. I don't even know what Vivi was thinking. I can't do it. Not even for her.

I can't stay. I have to get out of here. Get away from the monsters that hurt me. It's nothing more than a prison at this rate.

…

I guess I'm a coward to the very end.

I'm sorry ■■■■■ ■■■■ everyone.

-

May XX, 20XX

It's been two weeks since I escaped that hell.

Somehow, things are getting better for me. I don't know why, but I managed to find a job at an auto repair shop and even a place for me to stay at the same time in Cantabile, Tennessee. The shop, Four of a Kind Queens, is a family owned business that's run by the grandmother of the Knights family, Vivienne. She's the one that provided me a job and a home. I don't know how to thank her other than to do whatever I can.

The Knights family is interesting in that they're almost all women (other than those that are married with a husband). Almost all of the employees at the shop are women, too. I actually felt a bit out of place as one of the few male employees there. You'd think it'd be the other way around. Thankfully, none of them seemed interested in me so far.

I can only hope that I'll be able to move on from the past without them finding me. I don't want the Knights family to get dragged into my problems any more than they have to.

I'm just happy to have Galaham with me. I don't know what I would've done, or where I would be, without him.

-

June XX, 20XX

It's been a month since I arrived in Cantabile. It's surprising that I'm still here.

I got a new phone for myself. It's the kind that didn't require me to get a contract since I bought it from an electronics store. I had already disposed of my old smartphone and the SIM on it after I came here. It was rough to let go of it, but at least my photos and other files for my projects are safe.

I just hope that I didn't compromise my safety when I did the switch.

-

July XX, 20XX

Vivienne told me to stay home for the next few days. All I learned was that something had happened in the city that had police going around crazy. Also, someone's family member had gone missing and was reportedly said to be seen in Cantabile. I didn't dare search my name online. Instead I opted to look up missing persons by state.

...I shouldn't be surprised that I found my name and face as one of those missing in Texas. It said that I had left for a solo vacation and never returned, and that my last known location was somewhere in the mountains of Tennessee. It didn't say anything about which town or city I was last seen in or me being hurt, but I didn't want to take any chances.

I want to let my uncle know I'm okay, but I can't. I'm sorry.

-

July XX, 20XX

Vivienne called me back into work today. The police had found the person that was reported missing, and there hadn't been any more unusual activity, so it was safe for me to come back.

She told me that it's not unheard of for abusers to report their victims that have escaped from their grasp as missing individuals, pretending to care about their missing "loved ones." Those blind to the truth would fall for the sob stories and find the victims that have truly escaped, and then drag them back to their tormentors and not know the difference.

I was worried that I wouldn't be able to make rent since I couldn't work for the past four days, but Vivienne still paid me as if I did. I’ll find a way to make it up to her someday.

I'm worried about my uncle, but I don't want to get dragged back there. I'm sorry, Uncle.

-

August XX, 20XX

The Knights, mainly Elaine (who is Vivienne's youngest granddaughter), have been inviting me to various events lately.

Sure, being invited to the little parties and lunch gatherings meant to keep up employee morale is pretty fun, but now the occasion is attending a Robotics convention. From what Elaine had told me, it was just only her and her family going, but for some reason, I was the only employee invited to come along. Maybe the others didn't have any interest?

Elaine said that it was to get me out of the apartment and the shop. It's true that I don't go out much other than to get the essentials, and even then, most of them were brought to me by delivery, but it's mostly because I don't want to expose myself.

I can't let them find me. I don't want to go back.

-

August XX, 20XX

Elaine and I are dating now, I guess.

I had a good time at the Robotics convention. There were a few moments where I thought I saw someone that would recognize me even though I wore a hat and a different style in clothing and gloves to hide my arm, but thankfully, I was only seeing things. I think as long as I'm with someone I know, I'll be okay.

I say we're dating, but I highly doubt it'll work out between us. I mean, who would want to remain beside someone who has more problems than I care to count? No one in the shop even knows about my arm yet, because I didn't want to get any special/excess attention because of it.

Still, I'm well aware that Elaine has a crush on me (she's not exactly the most subtle about it). I'm not sure what will happen once she loses interest, but I hope we can still be friends at least. Other than Elaine and her family, Galaham is my only real companion right now.

I don't really have much of a choice to stay isolated like I had been, but at least I'm not getting beaten or burned on a near daily basis.

...I wonder if this relationship with Elaine will work out.

-

August XX, 20XX

Surprisingly, Elaine hasn't broken up with me. I just don't understand. What does she see in me? I'm a disgrace to the people I once knew. I feel like a discarded piece of trash that's left out on the curb, and I know I'm still an absolute wreck from all the nightmares of the night that's forever etched into my subconscious.

I accidentally cut my right arm on a rusty pipe at work. Because I didn't have a medical record to provide, Vivienne had me taken to a hospital to get a tetanus shot as a precaution. Although I never wanted them to know, they learned about my left arm and the rest of my injuries. I never saw someone look so horrified. Not at me, but the fact that I had so many wounds still healing and one that never will. To be on the safe side, Vivienne had me go through a complete physical. Examinations, x-rays, even an MRI had been added into the mix.

Even though we reached a compromise in that no one is to ask how I got these injuries back in Texas, I told Vivienne that I wouldn't be able to pay for all of it. She simply said that the director owed her family a handful of favors. Just how much influence does she and her family have? I don't think she would've helped to this extent if I hadn't been Elaine's boyfriend.

...It still feels weird to say that.

-

September XX, 20XX

My wounds from the hell I escaped from are slowly healing. I don't think they'll ever truly fade, but at least they're no longer hurting. I still have to cover my neck with scarves or turtlenecks to hide the very last wound I received, but hopefully that will fade over time, too.

The medication that was prescribed to me last month had worked wonders for me. I no longer have to bear with such crippling phantom pain, and the Knights family, including Elaine, have been helping me move on.

Maybe I can truly start over? Maybe I can truly find a place for myself here? I don't know how I'll ever be able to return the favor for the Knights family.

I think I'll invite Elaine to try out that new sandwich shop that recently opened up with me.

-

October XX, 20XX

Over time, I learned that the Knights family have a side business of sorts. They handle paranormal investigations and even do monster hunting for certain clients. Oddly, only the women of the Knights family do this.

Vivienne had retired from the side business a few years back and runs Four of a Kind Queens after inheriting it from her mother. Her two daughters, Morgan and Caelia, still do the side business occasionally, along with her two granddaughters Elaine and Eleanor. I almost never see Eleanor, since according to Morgan (her mother), she travels with her husband for his job as a contractor of sorts.

Elaine is leaving for one such occasion. She's been hired to investigate an abandoned house since there have been some crazy occurrences here and there. I don't know why, but I couldn't bring myself to stay, so I quickly volunteered to join her. I told her of my past experience as a paranormal investigator and demonstrated my knowledge of it. It was enough to convince her.

I never told the Knights family about the group I used to be a part of. I don't even want to think of the names of who and what I used to know. I was thrown away and cast aside, and I was constantly punished for the things I never wanted to happen.

...I just hope I don't bring Elaine to her death. At the very least, I'll help maintain her equipment and remain in her van. That way if anything went wrong, at least it won't be her getting pushed off. I should probably check ahead of time and make sure there isn't anything that could be used as a weapon to hurt her.

-

November XX, 20XX

I keep telling myself that I need to stop involving myself with the paranormal. That way I won't get hurt anymore, that way I can't be used to hurt anyone. But I couldn't. I can't.

Elaine made the investigations safe. I actually enjoy going on these trips with her.

She listened to all of my concerns, answered my questions, and even took the time to plan ahead with me on what needs to be done. I would help with the preliminary investigation and preparation, and if it became too dangerous for me, I would stay in the van with the protection wards while she went on ahead. In the rare occasions where it was too much even for her, she would back out and call her family for backup.

I love it when one knows when to fold.

-

December XX, 20XX

Elaine and I are still dating here and there.

I still don't know what a date really is, but if the occasional walk around the mountain trails or just having a meal together counts as such, then I guess that counts? (Huh. Redundancy.)

The things I learned about Elaine so far is: She's good at cooking, knows how to work with cars, likes reading science fiction and the occasional romance and horror novels. She doesn't care much for movies unless it really interests her, and even then, that's rare. She loves the family cream stew recipe her grandmother makes.

Elaine started to play some video games with me once I saved up enough money to buy a secondhand console during a sale. I often like to do little commentaries whenever I play, and she started to join in as well.

I'm so thankful to have her as a friend.

-

December 25th, 20XX

Even though I was all but exiled from where I used to live, I still wanted to let my uncle know what I'm fine without anything being traced back to me. Eventually, I came up with a technique that allowed me to do it.

One time I went with Elaine on her trips for the family's side business, I had asked her to buy a stack of notebook paper and some envelopes from an office store while we were out three states over. They were completely covered with wrapping, so there were no worries of her fingerprints getting on them. I made sure to only let myself touch the letters while writing and sending them, so that way there would be no danger for the Knights.

I had written my first letter to my uncle last week. I didn't include much, just that I was fine and that I'm in a much better place, and I asked him in that he doesn't try to look for me. I even went so far as to write it in a way that he would know that I'm not making it up and that I'm actually safe. I won't be able to get a reply from him, and we probably won't be able to see each other again, but hopefully this will put him at ease.

Merry Christmas, Uncle. I'm sorry.

-

January XX, 20XX

The new year. Hopefully it'll lead to a new me.

I'm gradually making a few friends outside the Knights family, but I mainly just stay home and keep to myself. They've gotten used to it; I think. We sometimes get to play some online games together, so that's cool.

-

February 14, 20XX

I got to spend some time with Elaine at a place popular for couples before a job. Granted, Elaine was asked to investigate some disappearances that occurred in that area, but I came with her last minute because I wanted to spend more time with her. It's selfish of me to do that, but I want to prove myself as a person for her. Plus, the last few cases I went with her went okay.

…

The fact that the Knights family are so effective at paranormal investigations and monster hunting, it makes sense now.

The Knights family themselves are monsters.

Elaine ■■■■■■■■ those cultists. Sure, she did it to save me, but she still ■■■■■■ ■■■■.

Dating her was a mistake. Everything has been a mistake. Everything about me has been a mistake.

I broke up with her.

-

March XX, 20XX

I don't know what I'm even doing. I still go to work, but after what happened two weeks ago, I can't look anyone in the eye. I try to avoid them. I know that they can kill me at any given moment. If that were to be the case, I hope they'll at least wait until it's Galahad's time to go, I don't want him to pass after me.

When that incident happened, Elaine begged me not to hate her while crying. After that, she never said anything to me other than when it's time to clock out or the few times her grandmother would buy lunch for the employees. No one in the family told me to leave, but they didn't ask for forgiveness, either.

I fear Elaine, but I can't hate her. What she did was unforgivable, even though she did it to save me. I know I would have died had it not been for her actions, but still. Am I truly worth saving? Enough that someone will kill to do so?

…Real monsters would never save people.

I can't let it be like this. I will talk to her the next time I go to work.

-

March XX, 20XX

I managed to have a heart-to-heart talk with Elaine. I still couldn't bring myself to forgive her for what she did, but I made sure to thank her for saving my life. There are still many things we need to work through, but at least we seem to be on the right page now.

We've decided to give this dating thing another shot. Not to start over, but to pick up where we left off.

I will accept her, monster and all.

After all, the real monster is me.

-

June XX, 20XX

I love her. I love Elaine.

I shouldn't love her. I don't have the right to love her.  I shouldn't let these feelings be a part of me. It's becoming harder and harder to deny it.

Elaine can easily toss me aside should she so choose. But she didn’t. I just can’t understand.

I still confessed to her. Because I didn’t have a ring to give her, I gave her my star spin. She gave me a pin shaped like the moon. The Knights in the night. Heh.

She returned her feelings.

-

October XX, 20XX

Elaine proposed to me.

-

November 11, 20XX

So… I tied the knot with Elaine today.

It feels so unreal. I never thought even once in my life before meeting her that I would ever find love like this. I really don't know how to describe this feeling. I have never felt anything even remotely like this in the past where all I felt was pain.

The ceremony could have been better, though. I wish I didn't have to make Elaine sad when I asked her to keep that one promise for me as one of our vows, but I know this had to be done for everyone's sake, including hers.

Elaine, if you ever read this, I want to say thank you. I love you, and I will do whatever I can to make you happy like you do for me.

...

I love you, too, my star. ☆

- - - - - - -

Red spilled.

Arthur looked down on himself, on his hands, and saw red. Why is the room covered in red? Why are Gwen and Percy covered in red and down on the floor? The clothes of Vivi's son soaked in more crimson. Whose blood is this? He coughed and looked at his hands.

Oh. It's his.

He forced himself to swallow the vomit that threatened to leave his throat. He blinked and saw that the red is now gone. Another hallucination? Definitely not a good sign, but he will have to worry about it later when he took a moment to touch the moon pin on his vest before shifting his focus on the children.

Gwen and Percy, along with Vivi's son Jason, are still standing, looking at him like they're seeing a ghost. The wraith is still floating behind the children, looking like a deer in the headlights. Arthur briefly took note that it's holding something, a blue rectangle of sorts that took one hand for the wraith to hold. A box? Not important.

Arthur knew that he would have to face the wraith again one day. It could have gone in so many ways. In all of those scenarios, it always had the wraith looking angry and vengeful like it always did when it was alone with him.

To think the wraith could hurt him like this.

"Dad…?"

The sound of Percy's voice snapped Arthur out of the fog. It's hard to bear the heat flaring up from his back and neck, difficult to keep the acid bile from bubbling up in his throat, and hard to maintain eye contact with that ghoulish face. It’s not looking angry now, but he knows it’s only a matter of time.

"Gwen, Percy,” Elaine said, “Come over here.”

The three children glanced up at the wraith before the twins subtly nodded to each other, with Gwen quietly gesturing to Jason to follow her as the three left the wraith’s side. The wraith, to its credit, didn’t do anything to follow.

“Arthur, I—"

“Elaine,” Arthur commanded with strain, his fingers barely touching the scar on his neck, “Take the kids with you… and go back to the others. Tell Vivi and Mystery to come here.”

“Are you sure?” Elaine kept her attention to him while keeping the wraith in the corner of her vision, “Isn’t that the one who—”

He nodded. He didn’t want to leave this up for debate. This isn’t her fight, but his. He’ll find a way to fend it off one way or another, and he knows it won’t lift a finger to hurt Vivi.

“Okay,” Elaine nodded back, “But if it tries anything, let me know.”

“There is no need for that.”

Everyone turned to see Niniane with Vivi and Mystery behind her. Arthur had to suppress a shudder as he saw one of Niniane’s hands emit the green-blue aura and point it at the wraith. She looks really mad…!

“No way…” Vivi could be heard whispering, “The seal’s broken?”

‘Seal’? Wait, didn’t her father mention--

“So you’re the one that abused my distant grandson-in-law,” Niniane said as she held it in place with her magic, “I almost couldn’t believe it when I found out that you were still around after nearly eighteen years since your death. Most ghosts typically disappear after a few months,” she narrowed her eyes, “But that’s assuming you had let go of your desire for his death.”

“That’s—” the wraith started before Niniane brought it closer to her face.

“But at the same time, you have been sealed for over seventeen years, so maybe you’ve had plenty of time to… reflect.”

“Niniane, enough,” Arthur said, catching her attention, “This isn’t your fight.”

“Anything that involves my family is my fight, Arthur,” Niniane said simply, “I don’t see why we should leave this one on the loose. I can just easily seal it back to where it was previously, or…”

She let out a cruel smirk just before a dull blue and heart-shaped object flew out of Percy’s grasp and into her own.b

“I can just get rid of it entirely.”

She gave the metal heart a squeeze upon speaking the last word, causing the wraith to wince upon hearing a small crack–.

Arthur managed to hide his shock by swallowing his words. Still, it’s very tempting. Niniane could just easily eliminate the wraith here and now. If she did, then there would be no more burns, no more pain, and-- He glanced in Vivi’s direction and saw how distressed she is. How she looked at wanting to speak up, but unable to defy the one suppressing her. Just like how the wraith had suppressed him in the past. Gwen and Percy look terrified, too.

…This isn’t right.

“Not yet, Niniane,” Arthur said with much effort, “We can’t do that yet.”

Niniane blinked in brief surprise before looking down at Arthur with a glare, “Oh? And why should I delay in destroying this?”

“Because I need answers,” he said, “With what my uncle, the Yukino family, and the Peppers saying that they want all this to end, and why Vivi ‘snapped’ and kept hunting monsters in my name even though she never did anything to this one, or how that ghost managed to earn the kids’ trust, I need to know why.”

Niniane pondered momentarily before shrugging, "I suppose that's an understandable reason. Very well. I will allow you to question them, but I will be watching."

"No, I'll do it," Elaine said as she stepped forward to be beside Arthur, "I need you to watch after Vivian. We can't have her make her way towards us, not to mention that I don't want her to get hurt by that 'dog' again."

Niniane glared at Vivi and Mystery's direction briefly, then nodded, "Very well, Elaine. I will leave this to you. If any of them do go out of line, do whatever you wish," she handed the heart over to her distant granddaughter, "I trust you will make a good decision. And the children?"

"We're staying," Percy said as he and Gwen stood by their father's side, “It may not look like it, but it’s pretty much my fault that we’re in this in the first place.”

Arthur was about to rebuke his son before stopping himself. Like it or not, Percy is responsible for allowing Mr. Yukino to identify him out of an online article by wearing the skull pin and his resemblance to him, and he might be at fault for getting the attention of the Mystery Skulls, too.

But in the end, it’s Arthur’s own fault to allow any of this to happen.

Forget the blame game. Just get this over with. Get the answers I need, and just let this thing die once and for all.

The lives of his three children depend on it.

“I understand. I shall do as you ask,” Niniane straightened herself and shifted her gaze to the wraith and the Mystery Skulls with a narrow glare before walking away, “But like I said earlier, if they were to step out of line, there will be no mercy.”

Arthur watched Niniane leave. A part of him didn’t want her to, but something in his mind is telling him that it was probably for the best that the old woman isn’t involved in this. On a separate note, he could only hope that Morgan is keeping Lance and the Peppers in line, for he didn’t want to get them involved in this, either.

Now, it’s just him, Elaine, the twins, Vivi, her son, Mystery, and now the wraith.

“Jason,” Vivi broke the silence as she kneeled down to her son, “Could you stay with Belle for a while? I need to have a special talk with these people.”

“Do I have to?” Jason asked meekly, “I thought I could play with Gwen and Percy? They’re better than all my classmates.”

“That right?” Vivi gave out an exasperated yet fond smile, “Tell you what, if all goes well, then you can play with them again when we’re done talking.”

Jason looked like he wanted to speak up, but he nodded before giving Gwen and Percy a shy wave. He said something about wanting to talk more about robotics with the twins nodding, then left the living room after looking back a few times.

“Sorry, I didn’t want him involved in this,” Vivi said as she stood back on her feet. She looked at both Arthur and his family, then at the wraith and Mystery before speaking to Arthur, “So… You’re married. With kids.”

Arthur took a moment to make sure that he was between the Mystery Skulls and the twins. It became a comfort when he saw Elaine follow suit and hold his hand like she always did during the nightmares to make sure the wraith wasn’t near the children either. Whatever connection he had with the Mystery Skulls has long been shattered, and he managed to make a new one with the Knights family after meeting Elaine.

“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing,” he said while seeing the wraith slowly fiddle with the blue box in its hands, “Still, my condolences for your husband’s passing. He must have been a great man since your family left a shrine for him.”

Like me, she has also moved on from the past.

“You would’ve liked Harry,” Vivi smiled sadly, “Even though the way we got together was… less than ideal, we were able to love one another regardless. He loved me, and he loved our son.”

Something tells me that I shouldn’t pry further…

“But that’s not what’s important right now,” Vivi started to make a move towards him, only to immediately back off upon seeing his glare, “You know how shortly after you left, this town became cursed? By the demon that ruined everything?”

“You need me to help you break it,” Arthur said, unconvinced with his arms crossed, “You realize that I’m not really inclined to help you after you and Mystery almost killed my children.”

“She what?!” The wraith reeled back before turning to the woman in blue, “Vivi, why would you do that?! What were you even doing all this time that made you go after kids?!”

“They can transform into monsters!” Vivi said loudly, “I didn’t know they were Arthur’s kids!”

“Wait, so if we weren’t Daddy’s kids, you would’ve just gone after us no matter what?” Gwen asked as she glared at Vivi.

“None of this would've happened if you hadn’t attacked us in the first place!” Percy looked down on the fake dog, “We were just minding our own business until you showed up saying we shouldn’t exist!”

“We can only apologize for that. We thought you had done something to Arthur when I picked up his scent from the three of you,” Mystery said to Percy, “If we had seen you as you are now, even we would’ve picked up on the fact that you are his son, or at least someone related to him.”

Seeing his children becoming more involved with the monsters of his past is starting to become too much. Arthur covered his ears and started humming the lullaby quickly to himself to drown out the sound. He didn’t care that the lullaby would hurt him. He didn’t want to hear the madness anymore. No more! Please! No more!

“Arthur, isn’t that my--?”

“Oh, shut up! Don’t think we didn’t forget how that bitch nearly chopped up our sister! You’re lucky that she missed, or I would’ve gone for her throat instead of her hair!” Percy growled as he made the throat slash gesture with his thumb upon saying it, “Unlike necks, hair can grow back.”

“So you would have killed her?!” Mystery bared his teeth upon hearing the thought of Vivi’s safety being threatened, “I’m not sure if that would’ve been a wise choice. If that Gashadokuro hadn’t appeared, I would have made you regret making that move.”

“I’m right here, mutt,” Elaine said slowly as her right arm, the hand holding the heart, became skeletal with a black and purple flame, her left eye also glowing purple as she glared at the fake dog that just realized his mistake, “Care to repeat that in front of their mother?”

There was a long silence.

Or rather. It went blank for Arthur. They’re still talking. Still arguing. He set his arms down.

That’s right.

These three, the Mystery Skulls and a monster, tried to harm his children. The wraith might seem against the idea, but he knew the wraith would take away anything Arthur held dear like it had done in the past just to see him in pain.

Not.

This.

Time.

“ARTHUR!” “What are you--?!” “DAD!” “DADDY?!”

Arthur kicked Mystery away from the kids amidst the screams and glared at the fake dog when he gave him a look of disbelief. He never wanted to hear Vivian cry like she had earlier today ever again.

“Arthur,” Elaine immediately went back to normal and came to his side, “Don’t push yourself.”

Upon seeing it, Arthur snatched the heart from Elaine’s grasp with his left hand. He tried to keep his breathing stable, but it’s getting harder and harder to breathe…

…What is this? Why is it so dark and purple?

…

How long has it been? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? …Centuries? The passage of time has long been lost.

Nothing but regrets, nothing but sorrow, nothing but the memories that used to give him a sick sense of satisfaction that now bring him an even more sickening sense of regret and shame.

It’s what he deserved. He knew that.

He could still sense what is going on outside his prison… somewhat at least. His little helpers, the Dead Beats, that were extensions of himself still wandered over yonder here and there, but even though they’re essentially his eyes and ears, they can only sense so much in their extremely weakened state. He has no idea how long it’s been since he was left here to rot by the old traditional shrine maiden that knew how to use the paper seals and chants that could exorcise even the strongest of demons. At the same time, he didn’t know why she chose to seal him instead of eliminating him entirely.

He is aware that he brought this outcome of ruin upon himself, being sealed with the one that ruined everything. The memories it haunted him with within the darkened green, such as the ones he used to be proud of, only brought anger and disappointment upon itself. Sometimes it would leave him alone, and he made sure to treasure those moments of relief. No moment of peace except for these rare precious moments. Despite this, he couldn’t let his guard down and was always on edge.

The fact that it used him to hurt his parents will… It made him feel violated more than he cared to admit.

He has no doubt that this is all what Arthur went though, as well. He wondered if the mechanic is even still alive.

Every once in a while, he would try to distract himself from the now painful memories by singing his song with his little helpers. Sometimes he would sing it the way it’s supposed to, other times he would sing it more sadly and melancholy.

This time I might just disappear…

He chose to sing it slowly and softly this time. The green hasn’t tried to disturb him for a while.

All of a sudden, he sensed something outside. He couldn’t tell what it was since his little helpers were so weak. He couldn’t see them, but he could feel them. Two… no, three? New presences near his prison’s proximity. He may not be able to do anything from where he is, but he hoped that his little helpers would lead them away to safety.

…They’re not leaving. One can float around. But it’s so small… Unless he is wrong, the floating one is… searching for something? The other two that can walk are trying to pursue the one that floats. What are the Dead Beats doing? They’re trying to get into contact with the three, but something is holding them back. One had enough, and so it used a trapdoor to catch the three by surprise. Why are the Dead Beats trying to bring the three to him? There's nothing he can do.

Oh, the one that can fly took one of the two, while the remaining kept falling.

"--en!"

A young boy's voice. Maybe someone calling out to their partner? He wanted to help, but as long as the seal remains intact, he can't leave, let alone move.

A yelp of pain in a girl's voice. She sounds hurt. Did she fall that badly? Is this the person the other voice he heard just moments earlier call out to? Before he could question it any further, something in his vision changed. It's faint, but light started to crack vertically in front of him. To his surprise, when he tried to reach out, he found that he could move. His fingers came into contact with the side of what felt like a lid. He pulled it to the side as hard as he could.

The lid of his coffin fell off with a loud clatter, and he quickly shut his eyes against the bright light.

Am I… free?

Does this mean that Arthur is here?

"Oh… f-frick…"

He slowly opened his eyes to adjust to the light, which isn't much. When his vision cleared, he saw-- That's not Arthur. It's just a kid, a young girl with dark hair and gray overalls, staring at him with an alarmed expression though her eyes.  But the only way for him to be released from his prison based on what the old shrine maiden had said…

“Only those that come after in blood of whose soul you’ve hurt.”

Although he has no idea how, this child is someone that has fit the criteria the shrine maiden had placed. Maybe she knows where Arthur is, or at least what happened to the world outside after he was sealed.

He looked down at himself briefly before shifting his focus to his heart. Still dark in color, and heavily cracked like it had been ever since he realized his mistake too late. How long has it been? What does he even look like now? He thought about looking into his heart, but instead looked up at the child before him.

"You…"

He started as he began to move forward, reaching out for her. Maybe he could lead her back to her two companions and then out of his prison? He tried to speak except he couldn't form the words other than "You."

The way the girl reacted with alarm before running off… felt familiar. He realized that he could move still, so he started to float and moved to follow her. He had to make sure she didn't fall into a trap or worse, encounter the green.

She saw him pursue her. As she continued to run away, she lifted an arm to his direction. He wondered what she was doing before seeing something sparkle in her hands and realized it immediately. She has magic. Why does it feel so cold? He didn't want to hurt her, so he lifted his hand to burn away the ice and nothing else. He tried to speak, but for some reason, he couldn't remember the words he wanted to say. What were they again? He knew how to say his name and one other.

"Arrrrth…"

"No no no no no no no no!" The girl just kept repeating the word, probably more to herself than anything else. She's a lot faster than he thought. How familiar. Maybe he can still warp the place like he used to before he was trapped here?

He knows most of the doors were basically portals that led to other doors meant to confuse people, so when the girl ran into one of the many doors in the hallway, she came out of another door in the same area just a little further down. When she saw him, she briefly looked annoyed, and then kept running in the long hallway and ignored the remaining doors altogether.

He needs to find a way to let her know he means no harm. It took some effort, but soon he was able to conjure a wall to cut off the girl's path to where only two pathways remain. The first path being the way they came, the other being another hall that neither had gotten to yet. Either way, he managed to effectively trap her in a corner.

"You… Arrrrrth…" Why can't he speak properly?! He just wanted to talk to her…

Something must have caught the girl's attention, as she soon went from a guarded stance to one of confusion.

"Are you… trying to say something?"

He looked up at her and nodded.

“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

He shook his head.

“Raise your left hand if you understand me.”

He did so.

She looked hesitant before standing up straight, “You’re definitely a wraith. The only way for something like you to exist was if you died a very violent death, and in your last moments, having a very strong desire. In other words, you have unfinished business here, right? Someone murdered you.”

He nodded. When the girl didn’t make a response, he looked down at his heart. Maybe if he shows her the photo inside, she’ll recognize any of the people in it? He allowed his heart to approach the girl for her to look. Just as if she was about to take hold of it--

“GWEN!”

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Back off, you skull ghost!”

Standing in front of the girl, shielding her from him is—! He realized that he is shaking, that he is crying, “Arrrrttthhhh… You…”

Arthur looked taken aback, “Wha--? Why are you--”

Before anyone realized it, he held Arthur in his arms in a soft embrace.

“Arthur, it is you!”

There isn’t any green. He didn’t want to let Arthur go, otherwise it would mean that this isn’t real.

He wanted to let Arthur know how sorry he is and that he learned from his mistake. That maybe things will work out. That maybe, just maybe, things could go back to what everything once was. To be a team again. Maybe get Vivi and then ask Arthur that question with her one more time and hope that he accepts it. That maybe, just maybe, Arthur will forgive him.

And maybe, just maybe… He thought more to himself as he gently held Arthur, who remained still with a look of confusion, by the shoulders to look into the gentle blue eyes he always knew--

…

…

…Wait.

Arthur doesn’t have blue eyes. They’re supposed to be gold like his hair. He’s also supposed to have a patch of dark hair just above his forehead, not white.

Upon closer inspection, he realized that the not-Arthur before him isn’t even an adult, but a child that just reached his teens, just like the girl behind the boy that somehow opened his prison. He took a moment to take in the features of the boy before him. The spiky hair, the way the patch of hair above his forehead looks outside of color, his jawline, his general stature, it’s beyond unmistakable.

It’s not Arthur, but he didn’t doubt this boy is related to him some way.

What sealed it was when he saw a familiar pin on the boy’s vest, one of the Mystery Skulls logo. Unless it’s a replica, only three are supposed to exist, but since it looks so beat up…

Looking at the girl, she doesn’t look like anyone he knew, but he soon found what he was missing. Her eyes were the same gold color as Arthur’s. He then saw her headband with a somewhat beaten blue circle just above her right ear.

“Hey,” the girl asked, her voice shaking, “Do you know this ‘Arthur’s’ last name?”

It took him a moment to answer, “K-King…”

“'Kingsmen'?” the boy suddenly asked, and when he nodded, the two children looked at each other as if realizing something before the boy spoke up again, “Hey, do you remember when you died? Like, the date and year?”

He told them.

“That’s… that’s over seventeen years ago!”

…Seventeen… years?

His heart fell to the floor and cracked.

…

…

…

Huh? 

Arthur blinked and looked up at the wraith. If what he saw was true…

He gritted his teeth. He won’t accept it. He just can’t.

 He glared at the Mystery Skulls while holding on to the heart to the with a tight grip. 

“I don’t know what you Skulls have been doing while I was away, and frankly, I don’t even care,” Arthur seethed as he glared at Vivi, “I let you all do whatever you wanted with me because I know that everything was my fault. Your parents said so, as did Lewis’s family, and as did that monster beside you that you kept because of your damn obsession.”

His grip on the wraith’s heart tightened. The wraith winced. Vivi and Mystery looked taken aback.

“I let that monster have its way with me for the six months we stayed with it because it was the only way you would be happy. I had to learn the rules through trial and error so I wouldn’t go through any more of this,” Arthur pulled on the turtleneck of his sweater to reveal the burn mark on his throat briefly before releasing it, “Just so you could stay happy. But no matter what I did to atone, it wasn’t enough. Not for your family, not for the Peppers, and certainly not for that wraith that’s only been kind to you.”

Vivi is trembling. It would have pained Arthur to see it, but he no longer cared. Not after what she nearly did to his son and daughters, to Elaine’s treasured miracles.

He noticed Elaine’s hand wrap itself around his right shoulder and felt relieved, even though he dared not show it. Not in front of the wraith and the fox.

“What… What were the rules?” Vivi asked with a shaky voice.

Arthur rolled his eyes in irritation. Typical for the wraith to stay silent and play dumb around Vivi like it always did.

“I was not to be alone with you for even a moment, let alone speak to you, even if you were the one to reach out. I was not to perform maintenance on my arm. I was to go first on investigations, entering rooms, crossing streets. After all, you wouldn’t want me to push you to your death, too, now would you? I was not to do any more maintenance for the van, let alone drive it anymore. For all you know, I could’ve tampered with it to stage an accident, even though everyone here knows very well that the mechanic in me would never do that. I was to never sleep past a certain time, even on the few nights where I wouldn’t have nightmares and hopefully, finally, get a full night’s rest for once. Or else I would just be forcefully dragged out of bed and get punished. For all anyone knows, I could’ve been plotting something. ‘No rest for the wicked,’ as the saying goes.”

The Mystery Skulls were looking more and more sick as Vivi looked more and more angry at the wraith with tears starting to form in her eyes. Sucks to be them.

He didn’t dare look at his family right now.

“I was not to eat anything unless all three of us were present. And even then, that had some rules. I wasn’t to eat any of my favorite foods, or anything from the Pepper Paradiso, even if you were the one that provided it to me. Although that one will forever stick after not only getting beaten for it, but also getting tampered food that made me sick at least twice, from cookies with the icing switched to paste to that one meal that had arsenic in it. The only reason I didn’t require a hospital visit for that one was no doubt because I somehow developed a tolerance for it.”

Arthur briefly paused as he noticed Elaine’s fingers twitching at what he just said earlier before continuing.

“Or maybe it was something else, I don’t know or even care. Either way, I had to go without food for days at a time until I had to go to work with Lance, and in the few times I couldn’t I had to resort to eating the weeds outside.”

He felt Elaine’s grip on his arm tighten slightly and heard her whisper his name. He knew that this is the first time she would be hearing about everything he went through in painful detail.

He hated it.

“Your parents, mainly your father, blamed me for your amnesia, when in actuality the wraith was the one that did it to you. The Peppers, on the other hand, told me multiple times that I should’ve been the one who died that day. It’s true, though. Their son’s life had more meaning than mine, after all. I mean, who would you save? A man that has many connections and a promising life ahead of him, or a screwed-up mechanic that was thrown away by his parents with more issues than the stars in the sky?”

Anything I did to make up for what I’ve done, all that I tried to do to heal the damage I caused, was never enough.

“Arthur, why didn’t you say anything?!” Vivi is crying now, “Why?!”

Arthur gritted his teeth, “You were finally happy after everything that went wrong because of me when you were with that ghost. How could I take that away from you again?”

Vivi is trembling, “Even so, you should’ve told me. I could have done something!”

“Not like I could,” Arthur said as he tossed the heart behind him and jammed a finger at the wraith while keeping his attention towards Vivi, “You were pretty forgetful ever since the incident.”

There was a long silence.

“Arthur, are you saying what I think you just said?” Elaine finally asked before furiously pointing at the wraith, “You mean to tell me that he’s been controlling Yukino’s memory the entire time!?”

The wraith looked away. Honestly, its unnerved Arthur that it was showing such human and Lewis-like mannerisms.

“It did erase her memory of Lewis dying, and then Lewis in general. So it wouldn’t surprise me if it could do more than that,” Arthur said, “Either way, so long as I ‘behaved,’ she wouldn’t know. The least I could do was make sure that it didn’t tamper with her memory anymore that it did.”

“Lewis, just why would you—!” Vivi shook her head before turning back to Arthur, “Then why didn’t you tell your uncle anything?! He could’ve done something to help you, instead!”

“All he’d do is pump that shotgun and make things worse,” Arthur spat, “We were lucky the last time that happened. I’m not risking a repeat.”

The sound of the shotgun is not something Arthur would want to hear again, that’s for sure. Not to mention that in the present, as much as Lance means well, Arthur knows that his uncle could very easily kill the children by accident should he mistake them for monsters like Vivi had, or worse, getting caught in the crossfire.

…He shuddered and struggled not to picture any of his family having big gaping wounds or being outright headless.

If anything, this just means that he can’t trust anyone from Tempo. No one.

It hurt. More than he cares to admit.

“That thing wanted me gone. That thing wanted me to disappear. But you didn’t, Vivi. You had me stay, and so that wraith had to make do with things like this,” he pointed at his own neck before pulling at his right sleeve to show the faint hand-shaped burn on his forearm, “And left me with more reminders of my inability to do anything more than I care to count! But I accepted it. It is my fault, after all. That demon took hold of me and had me kill Lewis. His blood is on my hands even though I never wanted it to happen!”

Vivi fell on her knees and kept crying. Mystery immediately went to her side to see if he could offer any comfort

Arthur can’t deny that seeing her in such a state is rather unsettling, but he can’t look away from it anymore. Upon seeing some movement, Arthur looked up and saw the wraith starting to lift a hand as if it wanted to comfort Vivi, only to immediately back off upon seeing Arthur’s glare.

“…Arthur.”

Something cracked.

“You have every right to hate me.”

Crack.

Arthur shuddered upon hearing the wraith speak and held on to Elaine for support. He looked around briefly to see if Gwen and Percy were still around, and briefly saw red as he noticed his son cradling the wraith’s heart in his hands.

“No number of apologies will ever make up for what I did to you, but I still want to say that I’m sorry.”

Crack.

What is this feeling of… sorrow(?) welling up in his throat. Arthur didn’t want to maintain eye contact with the wraith. That’s how it gets people off guard.

“Before you and your family destroy me, I just want to know. If you hated me that much when you left…”

Crack.

Arthur gritted his teeth.

“Why did you name your children with the names I suggested?”

Crack. Crack.

He didn’t.

- - - - - - -

“Oh wow! Look at this view, Arthur!”

The Mystery Skulls had decided to take a rest stop in Tennessee from their drive home after roughly five hours of riding. The rest stop also happened to have a scenic overlook where one could enjoy the scenery of the mountains from the interstate. It has a good view, Arthur had to admit as he leaned himself forward against the stone fence.

“Although I hear it can’t compare to what the Cantabile Mountains at the other side of the state have to offer,” Lewis laughed, “Maybe in the future we can go look?”

Arthur hummed in agreement, even though he remained more focused on reading a robotics tech magazine he had managed to obtain from a convention when they passed by a larger city the day before. The pages held some interesting ideas for prosthetics, which was something Arthur had taken an interest in as of late. He made sure to fold the corners of the pages he needed to look into later when he gets home.

Upon hearing the sound of a dog barking, Arthur looked behind him to see Vivi and Mystery running around. Mystery had been rather restless, and Arthur didn’t doubt that the bespectacled dog is more than relieved to have the opportunity to stretch his legs.

Upon seeing Vivi look so happy, something ached in Arthur’s chest. He didn’t know what to call it, but he knew better than to talk to her or Lewis about it.

“I know you’ll find someone who will love you, Arthur. I know it.”

“Yeah, right,” Arthur said as he continued to read the tech magazine in his hands, “You know how to cook while having the strength to do pretty much anything. And with Vivi’s appetite, any family you’d have with her will probably enjoy that to their heart’s content. Me? I’ve got none of that.”

“Well, actually, we still had some things to sort out before Vivi and I go that far,” Lewis said after some silence, “I mean, there’s still some stuff to work out before we can do that.”

Arthur looked up from the tech magazine he was reading and saw Vivi doing something with Mystery from the corner of his eye. He didn’t bother to pay full attention to them before shooting a glance at the man next to him. Way to be redundant, Lewis.

“Ah, sorry, I’m losing track. You see, you know I’m adopted, and I have no idea who or where my birth parents are. Don’t get me wrong, I love Mom and Dad, but sometimes I just wonder…” Lewis trailed off before giving Arthur a fearful look, “Ah, wait, that didn’t…! Crap…”

A dark cloud formed over Arthur’s head, and his mood felt worse than it already is.

Although Arthur never looked back when he went to live with his uncle after the nasty divorce between his parents, it never stopped being a sore subject for him. He didn’t deny that he would occasionally feel envious of the families Lewis and Vivi have, but Lewis just sounded so selfish there. At least he had loving parents at all, blood related or not.

Sure, he has his uncle, but sometimes Arthur wondered just what exactly a complete and loving family felt like. Arthur knows that Uncle Lance would do anything to protect him, but he isn’t exactly the best at showing affection, often displaying a gruffer side more than anything else. Arthur sighed, maybe he’s the selfish one.

“Gwen and Percy.”

“Huh?” Arthur gave Lewis an incredulous look in response to his friend’s comment out of the blue.

“If, ah, you ever have a son and a daughter, we could name them that,” Lewis laughed while leaning against the railing, “Not only would they fit in with your name like in the legends, but they’re great names by themselves, I think.”

Arthur blinked in confusion before turning his head away from Lewis, hoping that the latter wouldn’t see the blush forming on his face, “I-I guess, but you know that in order for me to even do that, I’d have to get together with someone first. And even then, I don’t know if I’d be good enough to be a father.” Let alone be a good enough partner, he mentally added with a heavy heart.

This isn’t helping his mood.

Lewis hummed in thought, “I don’t know about that. You’re actually pretty good with my sisters, and you even helped us with Paprika back when Dad and I had that car accident shortly after she was born. Mom even said that if it hadn’t been for you, she might have gone to the hospital herself from overwork. Since you’re a great babysitter, I’d say you’d make a great dad.”

Well, he can’t… deny that. Somewhat.

“Still, you’d make a better parent than me, though.”

Lewis didn’t respond immediately, which made Arthur wonder if he had said it with more bite than he intended. Having to watch Lewis and Vivi being all lovey-dovey and virtually ignoring him outside some quick glances throughout the entire drive to where they are now didn’t help matters. Sometimes, he wondered if they even wanted him around anymore. It hurts more than he’d like to admit.

Still. Him? A father? Someone’s significant other? That’ll be the day.

As far as Arthur knows, he’s most likely ace or aro or whatever the heck the label is called. He had tried to figure out what exactly it is through online research, but with so many terms that seem to get added every week, combined with the rather toxic influence with people saying on what is acceptable and what is not only to find the whole thing turned around on its head, or what is “something-phobic” based on what his initial assumptions on the two (or more) terms were, Arthur never bothered consulting any of the online communities and gave up entirely. To him, it was just more trouble than it’s worth.

Then again, it’s probably not wise asking online strangers for help on something like this anyway. Especially once he started finding posts that essentially held the basic message of being something akin to “this label is like this with these very certain criteria or fuck you and go die,” and even blogs that are said to be devoted to supporting these labels just can’t seem to agree with one another. Do they accept this? Do they accept that? He could never find a consistent answer.

He had thought about finding a counselor that specializes on the subject, but not only are there not any reliable-looking ones within a reasonable driving distance from Tempo, their hourly rates without proper insurance is way too high for someone like him. It’s not that Kingsmen Mechanics doesn’t provide insurance for their employees, it’s not exactly the best for those with mental needs. Lance would sometimes make an annoyed comment about that.

And then there’s the fact that Texas itself, and maybe a good chunk if not all of the remaining forty-nine states, most likely wouldn’t accept anyone outside of whoever is perceived as "hetero-normal" or whatever people call it.

Why the hell am I wasting my time thinking about this. Arthur growled to himself in frustration while trying to be quiet enough for Lewis to not notice.

After struggling to comprehend it all, it just felt so pointless. But he still wants to know why and figure it out for his own peace of mind.

As far as he knows, his name is Arthur Kingsmen, a twenty-two-year-old car mechanic and Lance’s nephew. To him, that’s all that mattered. He knows that he desires a companionship of his own like how Lewis and Vivi have for one another, but he just can’t feel the desire with any of the people he has met so far. Not to mention seeing those two together… hurt. He didn’t know why.

Maybe something is wrong with him, but he can’t impose on Vivi and Lewis like that.

And as far as Arthur also knows, he will be alone for his entire life once he goes out on his own.

He briefly entertained the idea of meeting someone, falling in love, getting married, and starting a family… but he knows that’s a mere pipe dream.

His heart ached.

…

One last case.

Just one last case, and then he will leave.

And finally go out on his own.

- - - - - - -

“Or… more accurately, why did you name them after Vivi and… after me?”

Gwen Vivi, Percy Lewis, and Vivian Lulu. The first and middle names he had given to his three children in memory of the two people he cared about.

The wall broke.

“How dare you.”

“What?”

“How dare you claim those names,” Arthur’s hands balled up into fists as angry tears leaked from his eyes, “The one who suggested those names is dead. Dead and gone. Buried!”

He glared at the wraith. He won’t fail to keep eye contact this time. He has Elaine with him, she can stop the wraith if need be.

“You can’t have them,” he seethed, “You’re not taking them to be your playthings. I won’t let you hurt them like you hurt me.”

“I would never hurt them! Why would—”

“They’re not just mine, but Elaine’s, too. Unlike me, she has nothing to do with you or any of this. I’m not going to let her get hurt because of me.”

As soon as Arthur said those words, a loud audible crack could be heard. When Arthur looked to see the source of the noise, he saw Percy still holding the heart, now nearly black in color, and open. Annoyed, Arthur took the open locket from his son’s hands and looked inside to see what it was that made the children’s faces so pale.

...

…The thing felt putrid in his hands. Filthy.

“Gwen. Percy,” Arthur said calmly, “Go to your nana. Stay by Vivian’s side. Don’t let her come in here.”

The twins looked at one another nervously.

“Please.”

It was clear that they didn’t want to, but they obeyed. After waiting a moment to make sure the twins were out of sight and hopefully out of hearing range, the fury Arthur felt slowly started to rise. Gwen and Percy, and maybe Jason, shouldn’t have seen what was inside the locket. They are not to be involved over past issues such as this.

Arthur tossed the locket at Vivi and Mystery’s feet in disgust before clutching the moon pin on his vest, “As soon as you asked me that damn question, I couldn't take it anymore. That’s why I left.”

Vivi’s eyes widened, looking torn and shaken as she picked up the locket, “Wait, you mean tha--that was all it took? Just because that we--, that I asked you out on a date?"

“That’s right,” he said as he made the move to hold Elaine’s left hand with his own, knowing that her wedding ring was visible for Vivi and the wraith to see. He then took a moment to glance at the wraith to make sure it wouldn’t get any stupid ideas before choosing to ignore the look of guilt on its face, “Lewis was your boyfriend, not me. I never wanted you projecting on the third wheel when Lewis went missing or died to be more accurate. You belonged to him.”

“Hey, I belong to no one by my own damn self, thank you very much,” Vivi snapped, “No one but I can decide what my relationships are, not some random person I don’t have any memory with anymore!” She sighed with frustration, “Did you seriously think I would flirt with someone I wasn’t interested in?!”

“Playfully, maybe. Since that’s what friends do,” Arthur shrugged as he held Elaine’s hand closer to himself, “It was still wrong, though--”

“I wanted us to be more than friends even before all that, Arthur!”

…Arthur really wished Vivi didn’t just say that.

“Wait, hold on. Let me make sure I got this straight,” Elaine raised her free hand to point a finger at Vivi, “You, Vivi Yukino, wanted to make Arthur your boyfriend even though you were already taken, and you had your memory of Lewis back when you asked Arthur that question?”

“You can have more than one significant other in a relationship,” Vivi explained, “Sure, there was a huge stigma for polyamorous relationships even back then, but we weren’t going to let that get in the way.”

Arthur risked a glance at the wraith. Curiously, it kept its head hung down, not looking at anyone. He really, really didn’t like the way it’s presenting itself right now, looking like a scolded child. Lewis would have that exact same expression in the few times he had been scolded by Vivi for some reason, and that disturbed him more than he cares to admit.

When Arthur thought about the past, he knew what it was that had become so painful for him whenever he saw Lewis and Vivi being together as partners. He wanted to be a part of that circle, but he knew that deep down, it was entirely selfish of him to want such a thing. What made it worse was that he didn’t even realize it was love he was feeling for Vivi and Lewis until he had realized his feelings for Elaine when she won his heart.

Well, even then, it’s too little, too late. Lewis is gone and dating Vivi after learning of the former’s fate would just be an insult to the dead. Plus, he didn’t want Vivi to project Lewis through him. In the end, there is no point in reminiscing the past or wondering about how things would’ve gone had Lewis not died, had the Mystery Skulls not gone into that cave.

What’s done is done.

“Before I died,” Arthur stiffened upon hearing the wraith speak, “Vivi and I had discussed our feelings for one another and for Arthur once we realized it. We even tried giving him hints and even flirted with him at times, but he always seemed to miss them every time. We were beginning to think he was ace/aro at that point.”

It took a lot of willpower on Arthur’s part to keep himself from shuddering. Shut up. Stop talking.

“Um, yeah, as far as I know, Arthur never knew how to flirt,” Elaine said with a somewhat exasperated breath, “I just kept inviting him to weekly dates and tested the waters little by little with his consent until I knew how he clicked. We were friends first, then we started dating casually, then seriously, and then to where we are now.”

Unlike what happed with Vivi and Lewis, Elaine was never subtle about her feelings for me. Even though I never knew how to flirt, even I could pick up the cues she was giving me. She always told me that she liked me, that she cared, and that she wanted me around. She invited me to cafes, to parks, to the mountain ranges, to peaceful places. She acted like my life mattered. Whenever she took a step forward, she would talk to me. She would communicate with me. I would have never confessed to her had she’d not done that.

I stopped bothering with the labels. It’s pointless. All that matters is that I know my name, and I love Elaine. That’s it.

“Eventually, we decided to just outright tell him after we finished exploring the cave,” Vivi averted her eyes with a sad expression, “But you know that never came to pass.”

Upon hearing those words, Arthur’s chest ached with a familiar sensation of doubt and a heavy tightness as he looked at his left arm. The awful feeling of loneliness, conflicted feelings, and a heartbreak that never completely went away. Arthur quietly took a deep breath. He would be lying if he were to admit that he didn’t feel anything for Vivi and Lewis anymore, but most of the desire had faded. He felt nothing for the wraith.

He gave his heart to Elaine. He won’t betray her like that. He won’t let her go through such heartbreak ever again.

“I see,” Elanie sighed as she gave Arthur’s hand a squeeze, letting him know she’s still with him, “Since we’re on the subject, perhaps you can actually answer this question since both your parents and the Peppers didn’t give me the full story. From what they told me; things have ‘gone straight to hell’ when Arthur left your lives.”

Arthur could’ve sworn he saw one of Elaine’s eyes glow when he saw her narrow her gaze at Vivi.

“What happened in Tempo after that?”

Neither Vivi nor the wraith responded. They just looked down in shame. Arthur didn’t see a reason to pity them anymore.

“I guess it’s my turn to explain things.”

Arthur nearly jumped when he heard Mystery speak. Had he seriously forgotten that the kitsune disguised as a dog is still around? Even though he was right beside Vivi the whole time.

“Go on,” Elaine looked down at the dog with contempt, “And do not leave out a single detail. Tell me everything.”

“Very well,” Mystery took a deep breath, “As we’ve said before, it all started when Vivi got the phone call from Lance. None of us knew that Arthur had left for a ‘solo vacation’ after he finished his work here. So when Lance called police to help locate Arthur, he came to our place. That’s when he found all the evidence that clued us in that Arthur had been abused by Lewis ever since we reunited. While Vivi’s memory issues is one thing, I do not have any excuse for not noticing Arthur’s pain. I was too focused on watching out for Vivi’s health as I am bound to her.”

A hitched breath from Vivi caught Arthur’s attention. She looks angry, “After you left, when I found out about what my parents and the Peppers… and Lewis have done to you, I was livid. I told them all that if they had to blame someone, they should’ve blamed me.

“I am the leader of the Mystery Skulls, so the wellbeing of everyone was my responsibility. I failed to do that when we went to that cave. If I hadn’t brought us there, or if I hadn’t brushed off your concerns, or had I not suggested we split up,” Vivi sighed before continuing, “Or had Lewis and I talked with you about our feelings before instead of after that cave, then none of this would have happened to us. The one that caused the series of events that led to Lewis getting killed was me. So it’s my fault, Arthur. Not yours. If anything, I should’ve been the one receiving all that abuse from Lewis and the others instead of you. Not that it makes things any better, of course, but still.”

Don’t say that. Don’t say that Lewis is--

“Continuing from where we left off, Vivi and I were trying to search for you by checking whatever leads we could get. All we knew from the police reports was that you had taken a bus to a route leading out to the east of Tempo, transferred a few times within the span of two days, and then boarded a bus that was reported to have dropped you off somewhere in the mountains of Tennessee,” Mystery said, “We elected to have Lewis stay behind since we couldn’t trust him with your wellbeing, but that became our worst mistake.”

The wraith looked at the blue box in its hand, “The demon that killed me… was still around. It took hold of my father and almost killed Paprika by putting a knife to her throat. If I hadn’t been around, then she would’ve died. Vivi was able to save him by,” the wraith shuddered, “By freezing his hand off, but then the demon took hold of me. My mother got caught in the crossfire when she was taking my father and sisters to safety.”

A chill went up in Arthur’s spine. He knew that experience firsthand. A human falling under possession is one thing, but anything that actually has powers that normal people like him aren’t capable of doing? He glanced at Elaine to see how she’s faring and could only feel somewhat relieved upon seeing that she hasn’t changed her scrutiny of the Mystery Skulls.

Although Arthur shuddered that the wraith just kept talking, he didn’t know if it was from hearing it speak or finally knowing why Mrs. Pepper’s body is so full of burn scars. The burns he received from the wraith were tame in comparison. For him, he could just hide them under his clothes. Mrs. Pepper, not so much.

“Vivi and Mystery were able to expel the demon from me, but then Vivi’s grandmother sealed me within my home.”

“Obaa-san said that the seal could be broken by ‘only those that come after in blood of whose soul you’ve hurt,’” Vivi quotes with her fingers, “Since Arthur was hurt by Lewis, Mystery and I knew that we needed him to break it. But there’s one thing I don’t quite understand, Arthur didn’t go anywhere near where Lewis was, so how was the seal broken?”

Vivi, stop calling that thing Lew—

“…Arthur’s children,” Mystery perked up in realization, “If we take ‘only those that come after in blood’ to mean his descendants, then they easily fill the criteria since they’re descended from his bloodline. I do remember Fuyuko-sama once saying that Arthur is an ‘herbivore,’ so to speak. She may have intended for the conditions of removing the seal to be impossible, as she may have thought that Arthur would never have a child, let alone get together with someone. It makes sense.”

Arthur and Elaine looked at one another briefly, the former feeling very uncomfortable. Neither of them liked the fact that Gwen, Percy, and Vivian have more involvement than they thought.

“Well, either way,” Vivi sighed before crossing her arms, “Since Lewis is here, that means all we need to do now is find the demon that tore us apart and cursed this town, and then we can finally end this nightmare. And then once we take that thing once and for all, we all just… talk. Hopefully patch up things and then just,” she let a hard breath, “I don’t know, go from there.”

Getting rid of that wraith would be a real good start.

“About the demon,” the wraith said, “Before your grandmother sealed me, I managed to take it down with me. It was actually because of it that I… ended up learning of everything it made Arthur do to kill me, and then how it caught up to us before we managed to briefly defeat it.”

There was a silence.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Vivi’s voice is steadily rising in volume, “Mystery and I were looking for that thing ever since Arthur left, and you mean to tell me that it’s been with you the entire time?! That thing was torturing the town for over seventeen years!”

“I didn’t even know it’s been seventeen years until Gwen and Percy told me right after the seal was broken! Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to process that?! They were will filling me in on what I had missed and were just about to get to my sisters until you all came in!” It held up the blue box in it hand, “I held on to this ever since Paprika gave it to me!”

Who gave you the right to call them by their names? Arthur bit his lip in anger. They’re not yours.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold up, hold up,” Elaine let go of Arthur and put herself between Vivi and the wraith before giving the latter a pointed look, “To make sure I have this straight. You had been sealed by Yukino’s grandmother, along with the demon, right?”

“Yes...”

“And my and Arthur’s children had broken that seal, therefore freeing you.”

“That’s… right.”

“So if you’re here, then where’s the demon now?”

Arthur’s blood went cold. He looked behind him before running out of the room.

The kids!

As he ran, his anger could not be contained. As a father, he will do whatever it takes to keep his children safe for their sake, and for Elaine’s.

The wraith is too dangerous to keep around.

- - - - - - -

The hunt is over!

And now you are mine!

Hide in shadows give you safety, baby...

But not this time!

...

...

...

You really like to think the contrary, don’t you?

Part 20: Your Enemy???! 

[kurowrites]

That Cursed Broken Heart - Chapter 6

Previous parts. AO3.

I guess this is the final part...

---

“Lan Zhan, will you stop pouting already?”

“Am not,” Lan Zhan insists, but it’s said so sulkily that Wei Ying cannot help but laugh and bump their shoulders together in mirth.

“You are! You are soooo grumpy right now. It’s not like I said I’ll never do it.”

Lan Zhan sighs and uses Wei Ying’s hand in his as leverage to pull Wei Ying back to his side as Wei Ying moves away.

They’ve been walking through this park, looking at the blossoming flowers for about thirty minutes now. It’s a popular spot at this time of the year; the park is renowned for its scenic views and well-maintained flower garden. But while they enjoy the sunlight and the lovely smell of flowers, they ignore the other visitors and are mostly absorbed in their own little world, discussing the future of their relationship.

Lan Zhan has been very insistent on going on regular dates, making plans to go to different restaurants and museums and parks; all the places he knows Wei Ying likes. Even the ones Lan Zhan himself doesn’t particularly like – at which point Wei Ying had to tell him that this works both ways, and bought tickets to a concert he never would’ve gone to on his own. It reminds Wei Ying a lot of the dates they went on when they first started dating in university, which is simultaneously very cute and extremely nerve-wracking. It makes Wei Ying think of the past, and all the things the future might bring.

Unlike their university-era counterparts, they are discussing the future of their relationship now. Today, the discussion has turned towards a topic that’s quickly becoming their favourite: Moving in together. Lan Zhan is very much in favour of it. Wei Ying… Wei Ying is nervous about it.

Now that he knows how seriously Lan Zhan takes this relationship, he knows what it means when they move in together. It won’t just be about staying together. It will be a first commitment on their path to marriage. Lan Zhan doesn’t say so, not in words, and he also never makes marriage a condition of their continued relationship, but Wei Ying knows now that it is what Lan Zhan ultimately wishes for. What he hopes Wei Ying will wish for too, one day.

Wei Ying doesn’t have any concerns about getting married as such. Oh no, quite to the contrary. The sheer thought of getting married to Lan Zhan, having Lan Zhan committed to him for the rest of their lives, it makes him all shivery and excited. To think that he would be the one that gets to keep Lan Zhan forever – oh, he can’t bear the thought! It’s too much! He might not make it to the actual marriage ceremony because the excitement will probably get him before that. The thought of marrying Lan Zhan makes him want to die because he simply cannot contain all these feelings in his body. He’s going to burst, and it will be ugly.  

But there’s more to be considered than idle daydreams of sharing a marriage bed and eating breakfast together for the rest of their lives. If he commits to Lan Zhan fully, if he moves in with him, he needs to be sure that this is it. That he won’t fall back into old patterns of behaviour, and that he too can provide for Lan Zhan. That their relationship is solid before they take that next step.

If he moved in only for it to end in disaster, he couldn’t take that. So he wants to keep living on his own for a little longer. Get his sea legs first, so to speak.

“Is it my uncle?” Lan Zhan asks quietly. “I know he was not entirely welcoming to you. I have talked to him many times. He knows I will not give you up. He has given me his word not to interfere again.”

That makes Wei Ying sigh, too. Facing Lan Qiren had been… not high on his list of priorities. But Lan Zhan insisted on a talk, determined to resolve the issue once and for all. And then proceeded to basically strong-arm Lan Qiren into giving his consent and support for their relationship. Wei Ying has to confess, he still starts giggling whenever he thinks about how quickly Lan Qiren caved when Lan Zhan bluntly leveraged his potential grandchildren. Apparently, Wei Ying is less of an evil than the certainty of never having grandchildren (blood-related or not). And so, Lan Qiren gave his blessing – reluctantly and not very graciously, but he gave it. Wei Ying and Lan Zhan are officially a couple again, but now with the label ‘SERIOUS’ attached in big letters.

(Oh, how pissed Jiang Cheng is about that. He is still trying to escape from the well-meaning matchmaking attempts of his aunties and he is not happy.)

They are on the same page, this time. But…

“No. Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying says. “I won’t say your uncle isn’t… uh. Well. You know. But… we probably should give it some time. After all that has happened.”

Lan Zhan is silent for a moment, clearly processing Wei Ying’s words.

“Is it so wrong to want to wake up next to you as often as I can?”

Wei Ying stumbles, but Lan Zhan’s free hand is already there, keeping him upright.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Yin exclaims. “You can’t just say things like that! It’s dangerous!”

Instead of answering, Lan Zhan reels him in and presses a kiss to his forehead. Wei Ying closes his eyes. It’s nice to have Lan Zhan so close, once again. His warmth, his smell, his gentle gestures. The way Wei Ying feels when Lan Zhan holds him. Wei Ying missed it all so much.

“We lost a lot of time,” Lan Zhan replies. “You cannot blame me for wanting to be selfish for once.”

He presses Wei Ying tightly to his side and begins walking again, staring off somewhere into the distance, the beauty of the flowers around him lost to his eyes. Wei Ying waits silently, because he gets the feeling that Lan Zhan is trying to say something.

“When you left, I thought it was right for me to practice self-denial,” Lan Zhan starts. “That it was… noble. Now that you are here, now that I know how you felt when you left, I regret it. I do not want to lose you again. We do not know how much time we have been given. I cannot help but feel… impatient.”

Wei Ying feels himself break out into a smile. He lets his head drop onto Lan Zhan’s shoulder, feeling light and happy.

“Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan,” he sighs. “If you keep this up, you will soon be rid of me. My heart can’t take it. Do you really want to kill your husband before you manage to actually marry him?”

“Nn,” says Lan Zhan, and squeezes Wei Ying tight.

Wei Ying laughs. “You see, not ideal. However, since I’m a very smart man and also a considerate boyfriend, I suggest… a compromise.” He grins up at Lan Zhan, a little proud of himself. “I will keep my current apartment and keep living there… but I’ll stay with you during the weekends. How do you like that, Lan Zhan? You can ply me with food and lazy mornings, and maybe one day I’ll decide I don’t reaaaally want to go home, and–”

He doesn’t get any further than that, because Lan Zhan reels him in and kisses him enthusiastically, not caring about the audience around them. Wei Ying is fine with that. He’s really, really fine with Lan Zhan’s enthusiastic response to Wei Ying’s hint that he’s willing to work on the idea of moving in together, and he’s really, really, really fine with Lan Zhan’s determined focus on convincing Wei Ying that this relationship is worth it.

He feels a little bad about making someone as calm and collected as Lan Zhan feel impatient and out of control. After all, it’s Wei Ying that caused it. But it’s also a huge relief for Wei Ying – to know that Lan Zhan has no doubts about being with Wei Ying. That he wants it, even if he has to work for it. That he wants to stay with Wei Ying. Forever, preferably. It’s a huge weight off Wei Ying’s shoulders, to be able to depend on Lan Zhan’s feelings so much.

He wants to be able to give Lan Zhan the same sense of security. He hopes that day will come soon.

“Mmmh, Lan Zhan,” he murmurs against Lan Zhan’s lips, once Lan Zhan lets him breathe again. “I want breakfast in bed. Do you think I deserve some breakfast in bed? Because I think I do.”

There’s a certain glint in Lan Zhan’s eyes that sparks something deep in Wei Ying’s belly, something hot and electrifying. He knows that look. Has craved for that look to return.

And he knows that Lan Zhan will probably convince him to move in full-time before long.

He doesn’t think he’ll mind losing that battle.

“Take me home,” he says, placing another hot kiss on Lan Zhan’s lips, on his cheeks. “I think I’ve had enough of parks and flowers for today.”

He reaches out and traces Lan Zhan’s cheekbone with his finger.

“I just want a cup of tea, and Lan Zhan all to myself. I guess it’s fine, to be selfish for once.”

The next moment, he’s whisked away, before he even has time to laugh.

---

The next morning, a key appears among Wei Ying’s things.

On the keychain is a metal figure of a white rabbit, sitting patiently.

(Wei Ying isn’t going to give that one back.)

[chyuans]

          hello , hello  !   first of all ,  i’m super excited to be here even if i’m like 10 hrs LATE  ( gmt timezone things )  i’m noe ,  a gay  they / them at the age of 19 ,  and this privileged lil disappointment of a jock boy is gonna be filling the position of kong_01 . despite the rumours ?  yuanjun’s actually not nearly as bad as some of the people he’ll be meeting here >:)  but you’ll get to know more about that below  !  if you’d like to plot just light up that HEART , or add me on disc*rd which i’ll give out in im’s , where i’m infinitely faster .  if i’m not gaming .  no tw’s under the cut  .

* backstory. > many people know of yuanjun, but few people truly know him. he's the famous kong families’ son, heir to the kong legacy, now forward position for south korea men’s national hockey team - which brought forth a ton of international fame from back home and amongst hockey lovers worldwide. while his talent is undeniable, he is long overshadowed by his families’ accomplishments, forever reminded that he’d never be the perfect son they’d hoped for, and no one ever lets him forget it.

> being the child of business tycoons who’s art business seemed to never be on the decline, tended to lend itself to an unconventional, pretty lonely childhood. 

> although jun no longer wants to dabble in the stupid shit he probably did as a teen, and escape from their home in a childish fit of rage and make the lives of the various nannies that tended to him while his parents were off being great hell, he still wonders sometimes whether this profession is what he would’ve wanted if he’d just not wanted to spite his parents. he loves hockey - that fact is undeniable. he thanks the nanny who took him there once out of necessity to stop his whining, and he fell in love with it almost instantly. but he also questions whether he gravitated to it because it was something he could throw himself into wholeheartedly to fill a void.

> he's very open to different types of people, and after being scouted at 19 and having a massive shift both in culture and identity as he then begun to travel worldwide, he’s a tiny bit more wordly now than he was back then. he's much more concerned about who you are underneath than superficial appearances, which means developing relationships are few and far between, because a lot of people do approach him because of his fame/fortune. he's unjudgemental to the point where his friends worry about his naivety and how easily he trusts people, but he's absolutely not dumb, just very well versed on telling good people from the bad.

> jun may even come across as naïve, but he's very aware of that perception is nearly important as reality. he's not extroverted in a way that demands conversation, but he knows how to talk to anyone from any background even if its just to maintain pleasantries. after competing in various competitions and versing players from canada to japan, he's become much more sharp and ambitious, a guy who very rarely lets distractions take their course. perhaps it’s with this that his family loathe his choices all the more, with his appetite, he was born with the skills required to run a business - pity he never took to anything of the creative sort.  

> working in a fast, stressful, highly coveted job such as pro-sports is a full time job and then some; jun doesn't spend much time not working on it. outside of his schedule, he likes bettering his stamina at the gym and eating healthy. he likes being surrounded by authentic people or nobody at all. he’s not one for trying new things and having new experiences due to time management, tending to stick to a schedule.

> he gets a lot of bad press though, which is beginning to weigh a little heavy on him. doubly now the murder has people talking. from being accused of performance-enhancing pills, various personality scandals, to being linked with ‘dating’ (see: ruining the image of) idols and chaebol’s alike. right now, he’s currently battling a lot of unwanted publicity because of a misunderstood interaction online against a wealthy sweetheart that went sour. 

> while jun might be generally unsympathetic and analytical when it comes to developing relationships with people that’ll last long-term, he's a bleeding heart when it comes to kids who may have experienced the same lonely upbringing as he did, without the financial gains. right now he spends sunday’s teaching a bunch of local foster home kids how to skate, and is trying to fund a couple of sports scholarships for those who show promise under a fake name, just generally being a good ‘ole guy.

> his family do not approve of his job, ofc. in fact neither of his parents have ever attended any of his matches to this day, and are only on semi-decent terms with him because jun begrudgingly is still tied by name to the business and shows his face at events for all of 30 minutes until he physically can no longer maintain pleasantries. his celebrity image perhaps is one thing they can manipulate, and even then, jun could get into scandals galore and still be doing his job. good press, bad press, it has the kong’s family name at the forefront of peoples’ minds, which always brings forth revenue.  

> pros: could be a lot worse considering his upbringing, collected, and level-headed most of the time. wicked good at sports, and keeps a cool head in a tough situation. ambitious, curious, a little reckless. eager to prove himself, rich? and very endeared to people/places he finds fascinating. which are many. knows where the good, authentic chinese cuisine is. hardworking and very interested in the idea of Progress.

> cons: the most private person alive, will not divulge any palatable information about himself or his feelings. devil's advocate always. will put himself and others at an arm’s length the second he feels (disgusted noises) e-emotions (love, namely). gets bored easily. paranoid, leads with the head more than the heart. friends > > > family. a little self-involved, never fucking sleeps - will be that neighbour you can hear padding around above your apartment at 3.05 am like it’s mid-day, aaaaand Loves Winning Above All Else

* personality & relationships.

> like many others, jun has his fair share of surface-level friends. he’s quick to be interested in people, to get to know them better, but it's difficult for him to get closer than that after a childhood of being picked up and dropped by those who looked over him - which kinda has left him with abandonment issues.

> he’s a curator of neat things that aren’t too overtly complex, and that includes friendships. so if you have something unusual about you, whether it's a talent or a way of thinking, he would be inclined to get to know you better. also, he has a lot of leverage with his job. being friends with a sports star slash million dollar trust fund baby who can get you free shit never hurts, just don’t befriend him for the perks, yanno?

> jun is very dedicated to his vision of things, and can sometimes be very obstinate in the way he a) wants them to be done b) doesn't accept other options, think steve jobs. he's very mercurial and can be nice one minute but isn't afraid to switch to hardass boss to get things done and did.  > he is insanely competitive and his strive is drawn out by always wanting to be on top. truly first child material. that's the kind of guy he is, with standards that do not reflect his passive side too well, which sometimes can get him into some “personality” scandals. he is driven, motivated, always looking for ways to be winning.

> i'm sure someone is bound to hate him, he’s probably got a few accounts online dedicated to a steady stream of shit-talking, given his cutthroat status or holding many hockey cups.

> jun doesn’t think too much about his sexuality - he'd probably best be labelled as pan, but leans towards those who identify as women? because of his current placement in a workspace, and with a cultural identity, that both don’t often lend themselves to lgbtq+ rights, i doubt he’d ever make that public.

> he works amongst some of the fittest people in the world, he knows how to appreciate beautiful bodies, but he's not about to discriminate. he's tragically a committaphobe and isn't interested in anything long-term right now, although i think it'd be funny if someone tried. he's very open for flings and one-night stands and even a friends with benefits sort of set up. 

* wc’s.  >  bring me his baby bro and sis. i command u. i have many thoughts  >  somebody who maybe gets in on his foster-kid situation? idk maybe they have a perception of jun being what he is in the articles they read of him, but they see him and are like <3_<3 he actually real Nice huh. i see this being romantic but it could bloom a really nice, wholesome friendship too. >  enemies. not gonna lie, he doesn’t vibe with rich kids w / a stick up their ass, especially since a lot of the people he works with aren’t from exorbitant families. people who loathe him for declining to take over his families’ business? like the boy can’t even name more than 3 artists off of the top of his head?   > fwb except neither of them know what “just friends” mean.  > i would love if jun had a confidante. a best friend, a partner in crime, a total bromance 'cause i can never get enough of those. whatever label you ‘wanna put on it. wiping up each other’s messes. maybe a Betrayal in the works  > again, gonna be a wc, but i would love a “rival” of jun's on a similar level (or bigger)  that’s entirely fabricated based off of trashy articles or a misunderstood interaction online. bonus points if they’re an absolute sweetheart, well loved by most people, and generally the antithesis of jun with his multiple drug/personality rumours, which in contrast, make him seem like the bad guy. 

> party buddy. this guy hasn’t touched alcohol/cigarettes/any other stimulants since he was underage and wanted to rebel. the word “relax” does not exist in his vocabulary. Help

[darlingandmreames]

So Lost for You (So Tell Me It’s Not Too Late)

(also on ao3)

Prompt: “Nice to know some things never change” and Lost by Blake Rose

Summary:  Eames deserved to be happy. He deserved someone who made him smile and laugh, and Arthur knew he wasn’t that person. He couldn’t be. But he couldn’t help the stab of jealousy in his chest as he thought of it being someone else. He’d get over it eventually, but right now? Right now it fucking hurt.

@arthureamesmonth

Arthur hadn't intended to run into Eames. He wouldn't go so far as to say he was avoiding him, but he certainly wasn't trying to seek him out or spend time with him outside of jobs. So when he saw Eames seated at a table, chatting with some woman, when he walked into the bar his first instinct was to just turn around and walk back out. There were plenty of bars in the area, he could just go to another one. Eames caught his eye though and flashed him a quick smile, and that complicated things. Leaving without being seen was just him not wanting to make things awkward. Leaving after being seen would just make them more so.  

He nodded at Eames and walked over to the bar. He'd intended to relax a bit after finally finishing the job they'd been on- it hadn't been difficult but it had been time consuming- but he suddenly found himself not in much of a mood to celebrate. He'd just have a drink and then head out. Maybe turn in early for once. He could certainly use the sleep. 

"What can I get you?"

Arthur glanced up. "Whiskey, please."

"On the rocks?"

Arthur nodded and the bartender grabbed a glass. This bar was known for its whiskey, which was why he'd come in in the first place; it was supposed to be good quality but not overpriced, and they even served the particular brand he liked. It was a bit of a whole in the wall place too, so it was unlikely to be crowded or particularly loud. It was honestly the sort of place Arthur would’ve normally loved. They’d still be here a few more days, so maybe he’d come back on another evening to fully enjoy it when he was less tired and in more of a mood to celebrate. Just not tonight.

He nodded again in thanks as the bartender slid a glass in front of him. Eames' laughter drifted across the room and he took a drink. If his brief glimpse when he'd walked in was anything to go by, Eames was on a date. Arthur wasn't completely sure, the woman'd had her back to him and he'd only seen her briefly before turning, but he was fairly certain he recognized her from a job. Another forger, if he was remembering correctly. Maybe that was how Eames had met her. Not that it mattered, of course. Eames could meet people however he pleased.

The whiskey was just as good as he'd hoped. It was dark and rich, with a warm aftertaste, and Arthur was halfway through it before he'd even realized it. He stared at the glass, a little caught off guard. He generally wasn't a fast drinker. He preferred his drinks to be high quality and have a heaviness that lent them more to sipping than anything else, and that was usually how he drank them. The downside of a relatively quiet bar, though, was that it was easy to hear everything around you, and a drink was the best way he could think to ignore the sound of Eames' or his date's laughter. He finished his drink with a grimace; whatever conversation they were having must've absolutely goddamn hilarious by the sound of it.

"Bad day?"

Arthur glanced up, surprised, and shrugged. "Not really."

The bartender raised an eyebrow and motioned to Arthur's glass, refilling it when he nodded. "I don't think I've ever met anyone who drank whiskey on the rocks with as grim an expression as yours after a good day before. And I've served a lot of people."

"Never said it was a good one." Arthur started in on the second glass, trying not to pick up on Eames' words as he said something. It was loud enough that Arthur could hear his voice but just quiet enough that he'd have to strain a bit to make the words out. Which he wasn't going to do. "Just that it wasn't bad."

"I suppose there's a fair bit in between those, isn't there?" 

Arthur didn't answer, just hummed in agreement as he sipped his drink. He tried to focus on the flavour, it really was good whiskey after all and he hadn't enjoyed the first glass as much as he'd intended to, but every once in a while Eames would say something loud enough that his voice would float back across the room over the general background noise. It was stupid of him to get so distracted by it each time, but his brain latched on to the sound regardless. 

The bartender chuckled. "I've been doing this long enough to recognize that look."

Arthur looked up from his drink. Normally he wasn't a fan of chatty bartenders- if he'd wanted conversation he would've gone to the bar with someone- and he wasn't exactly in a talkative mood at the moment, but he supposed the distraction might be nice. It at least might keep him from going through his second glass of whiskey as quickly as the first. "And what look is that?"

"The look of someone who's got another person on their mind."

Arthur frowned. "That's…vague."

"Maybe." The bartender watched him, clearly amused. "But I'm willing to bet I'm right." He picked up a glass and began wiping it down. "Girlfriend?" Arthur rolled his eyes and the bartender laughed. "Okay, definitely not. Boyfriend then?"

"Coworker." 

The man paused, looking up at Arthur with surprise before going back to cleaning the glass. "That certainly complicates things. I can see why you're in such a sour mood."

"You never specified how I was thinking about this supposed other person. Maybe I just think he's annoying." Arthur frowned again and took another drink. "And I'm not in a sour mood."

"I'll admit, different people show their emotions in different ways, but most don't show happiness but glowering over a glass of straight whiskey." The bartender set the glass down and moved to the next one. "Must be one hell of an annoying coworker if that's really what's on your mind."

Arthur hesitated. Talking about personal things was generally something he avoided at all costs. The last thing he needed was someone finding out a vulnerability and using it against him, which was a very real threat in the extraction world. The bartender was a stranger though. Someone he'd likely never see again. And even if he did, it wasn't like he existed in the same sphere of the world as Arthur did. He debated a moment longer before sighing. "He's really not. Well, he's certainly a pain in the ass sometimes, but it's more…endearing than annoying I suppose."

The other man raised an eyebrow. "So I was right."

"Hmm." Arthur could hear Eames laughing again. It was his real laugh too, not the polite chuckle he used when he was trying to be friendly or was dealing with a client or coworker he needed to like him. Arthur had always loved that laugh. "We don't…there's nothing between us. Nothing real, at least." There could've been, though. The groundwork for it had been there. Arthur knew that. He wasn't as good at reading people as Eames was, but he'd recognized their bickering for what it was: flirting. Well placed jabs, always sharp enough to get a response but never sharp enough to actually hurt, that had even developed into a few inside jokes over time. There were very few people who knew Arthur well enough- or long enough- to have anything like that with him. "There might've been though, if we'd pursued it." 

"There a reason you aren't?"

"Relationships…aren't a good idea in my line of work. They don't last. And dating a coworker is a particularly bad idea. Dangerous, even." They were still tempting though. He took a sip, thinking back to the job in Bishkek a few months prior, when things had gone to shit without warning. When, in the midst of being shot at, the midst of all the adrenaline and fear and excitement, he'd forgotten all his carefully developed and maintained rules about no relationships. "We kissed. Once. It could've been more." Arthur finished his drink, grimacing. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why he was telling the bartender this. Maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe he just didn't have anyone else to tell. "I said no, though. Told him it was a mistake. Because it was. I know it was, even if…even if I meant it at the time. And I know I was right to do that." He shrugged, trying not to let too much bitterness creep into his voice. "Doesn't mean I don't regret it though."

The bartender watched him for a moment before refilling his glass a third time. "This one's on the house." 

Arthur nodded in thanks again, glad when the bartender didn’t continue the conversation. He was starting to feel the effects of the first two drinks now; if he kept going at this rate he'd end up properly drunk before too long. The job was done though, so he supposed it didn't really matter. He could afford to spend the next day hungover. He started in on the third drink, quickly drifting off into his own thoughts. He did regret it, saying no. He regretted it every time he heard Eames laugh or saw him smile or was met with a short, pragmatic answer where he used to be met with a witty comeback. Because he liked Eames. He liked him a lot. And, as much as it'd been a bad idea, he'd meant that kiss in Bishkek. When Eames had asked him to dinner afterwards it'd been so tempting to say yes. To forget why he avoided relationships and didn't date coworkers and just go to dinner with Eames like he’d been wanting to do for months. But he hadn't. Instead he'd told Eames it was a mistake, that he hadn't meant it, that he preferred to be alone, and pretended he didn't see the hurt in Eames' expression before he covered it up with the polite chuckle that was so different from his real laugh. 

It occurred to Arthur after a few minutes that he hadn't heard anything from Eames or his date in a little while now. Given how grand of a time they'd clearly been having, the silence probably meant they'd left. Arthur took a long drink, not even bothering to try and focus on and enjoy the flavour anymore. His thoughts were fuzzier and less clear now that the alcohol was really starting to hit his system, but they drifted back to Eames nonetheless, regardless of where he tried to direct them. His date had obviously gone well. Arthur could imagine them walking their drinks off together, maybe down by the river; the weather was nice out this evening, and Eames had always been a fan of taking walks. Maybe he’d walk her back to her place. Tell her he’d had a good time, ask her out again. Maybe she’d invite him up. Maybe he’d say yes.

Arthur took another drink, gripping his glass tightly. He shouldn’t feel jealous. Eames had asked him out, given him the opportunity to be in that position, and he’d said no. He’d lost the right to be jealous when he’d done that. It was better this way, he knew that. Even if it wasn’t the job, something would’ve happened eventually. Something would’ve come between them or Eames would’ve decided Arthur was too difficult or that his feelings for Arthur weren’t as strong as Arthur’s were for him and that would be it. And Eames deserved to be happy. He deserved someone who made him smile and laugh, and Arthur knew he wasn’t that person. He couldn’t be. But he couldn’t help the stab of jealousy in his chest as he thought of it being someone else. He’d get over it eventually, but right now? Right now it fucking hurt.

“Wondered if I’d still find you here.”

Arthur looked up, startled. He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard Eames come up behind him. He shrugged and turned back to his drink. “Not really anywhere else for me to be.”

There was a slight slur in his speech- more than he’d expected- and Eames raised an eyebrow as he sat down at the bar next to him, nodding at Arthur’s mostly empty glass. “How many of those have you had?”

Arthur shrugged again. “This’ll make three.”

“You eat anything beforehand?” Arthur shook his head and Eames chuckled dryly. “Might want to make it your last, then. Otherwise you’ll wake up feeling like shit tomorrow.”

“Job’s finished, it’ll be fine.” He took a drink. He knew Eames was right, he definitely shouldn’t have another glass after this, but he probably would anyways. “Surprised to see you back here.”

“Well, I couldn’t just let you sit here and drink all alone, looking all depressed.” Eames eyed him. “Especially not with how much you seemed to be throwing back.”

“I’m fine.” Arthur stared down into his glass. “I don’t need you to check in on me.”

Eames frowned and Arthur bit back a grimace. His tone had come out a little harsher than he’d intended. “You’re in a bit of a mood.”

“Just tired, that’s all. Wasn’t exactly expecting company.” He took another drink; it wouldn’t be long before he finished it. “It was a long job, thought it’d be nice to be alone.”

“Hm. Nice to see some things never change.”

Arthur winced. It was probably best to end this conversation before he said something else he regretted; he was sure Eames wanted to get back to his date, anyways. He kept his gaze fixed on his drink, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach. “You don’t have to stay. I’d hate for you to cut your date short because of me.”

Eames paused, seemingly caught off guard. “Date?”

“You and your friend.” Arthur gestured vaguely. “You were certainly having a good time. I could hear you laughing all the way over here.”

“You mean Rosalie? The woman I was here with?” Arthur nodded. “Oh, no, she's just a friend. We got into the field around the same time and trained under the same forger. It’d been forever since I saw her, so we decided to grab drinks and catch up when we realized we’d be in the same city.” Eames frowned again. “You thought that was a date?”

“Oh.” Arthur blinked, suddenly feeling stupid and a little embarrassed. “I…well…it looked like one, and you were laughing and seemed to be having a good time, I just thought…” He trailed off, not really sure where he was going.

“Wait, were you jealous?” Eames stared at him. “Is that why you’re sitting over here looking like a miserable bastard and acting all pissy? Because you thought I was on a date?”

Arthur groaned. “No, I was just…I’m not…”

“Arthur, what the hell are you jealous of?” Eames almost sounded angry. “You made it very clear that you have no interest in dating me, so why-”

“Of course I want to date you!” The words were out of his mouth before he realized it and Arthur knew he should shut up before he made things worse, but he’d had just enough to drink that the words wouldn’t stop. “God, Eames, do you have any idea how much I like you? I wouldn’t have spent months flirting with you if I didn’t. Wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t. But relationships are a bad idea in our line of work and it wouldn’t work out and I don’t…I don’t want to have something with you only for it to not work out because that’ll just hurt more. It’s easier if I just pretend like I’m not head over fucking heels for you and let you find someone else to be happy with.” His inhibitions finally caught up with his words and he snapped his mouth shut, dropping his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fuck. Never mind, forget I said anything. I’m just…I’m drunk. Just pretend I never said anything, I don’t…”

“Arthur.” Eames’ voice was serious. “Arthur, look at me.” Arthur looked up hesitantly. Eames was watching him with a careful expression. “Do you mean that?”

“Listen, I’m drunk, you shouldn’t…”

“Don’t bullshit me, Arthur. Do you mean what you just said?”

Arthur hesitated briefly before sighing, looking away. He couldn’t bring himself to lie again. “Yeah. I do.”

Eames was quiet for a moment, but his voice was softer when he finally spoke again. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Because I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy. And you won’t be that with me.”

Arthur went to finish off his drink but Eames rested his hand on his arm, gently pushing it back down. “I think you’ve had enough for tonight, darling.” He didn’t pull his hand back even once Arthur’s arm was resting back on the bar. “For one of the smartest people I know, you really are an idiot sometimes, you know that? I appreciate your concern, but you don’t get to decide what makes me happy. I do. And I don’t think either one of us has been very happy recently.” He paused. “You can still say no, and if you do I’ll respect that. But, if you want to, the offer still stands to grab dinner sometime.”

Arthur let go of his glass, hand laying limply on the bar. He wanted to say yes. More than anything he wanted to say yes. “What if this ends badly?”

“Then it ends badly.” Eames slipped his hand into Arthur’s. “But I don’t think it will.”

He was smiling softly when Arthur finally looked back up uncertainly. His words caught in his throat at the sight of Eames’ expression. It was wonderful to be looked at like that. To be looked at like that by Eames. “I…dinner sounds good.”

Eames squeezed his hand. “I’m glad." After a moment he sighed. "Now let’s get you back to the hotel, yeah? And maybe get you something to eat too."

"I'm not that drunk." He set money on the bar- enough to cover his drinks and leave a sizeable tip- and stood up, frowning as he stumbled slightly. The world seemed to swim slightly around him and he leaned on the bar to steady himself. "Okay, maybe I am that drunk." 

"You had three glasses of what I'm guessing was straight whiskey on an empty stomach, love, of course you're that drunk." Eames' arm settled around his waist and Arthur leaned against him gratefully. Even if he hadn't needed the support- and it was quickly becoming clear that he did- it was still a nice feeling. "I'm going to have to ask you out again tomorrow just to make sure this wasn't a drunken fluke."

"It wasn't." The bartender caught his eye as he and Eames headed towards the door, eyebrows raised. Arthur gave a small smile and a slight shrug, leaning on Eames slightly more as they headed out onto the sidewalk. Less for support this time and more simply because he could. Eames seemed to understand, chuckling and tightening his grip on Arthur's waist slightly. "I can promise you that."