#funnily enough this took me about four hours to complete | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skylermadness · 1 year ago

Text

Volatili-Tea (Junkrat TF/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: January 29, 2023)

Original Description:

My half of a trade with A-C-Crowley on DeviantArt! His half for me was a Reinhardt TF that also functions as a companion piece to this story, which can be found here: DeviantArt I actually had this written roughly three or four months ago, back in October, but I didn't want to post it until both our halves were complete. Although funnily enough plans for this trade were being set up as early as summer of last year. Damn how time went by, huh. Writing this story was actually quite fun! So much so that I actually wrote it and edited it in its entirety in roughly an entire day. I don't know what struck me with that much inspiration to write something that fast, but it sure as hell was a fun one! Especially since I feel like this story explores a couple new concepts in my writing. Prosthetics in TFs, more complex bodily descriptions, and especially transformations in a public space. Makes me want to do more public setting TFs these days, honestly. Anyway, a very fun story to write, especially for a great friend of mine!~ ...I honestly kind of hate the pun in this story's title though...

"And the winner of our third raffle of the day is… Matt, numerical designation 478! Please head to Big Bang Beverages in the northwestern catering sector to claim your prize."

Despite being surrounded by crowds of convention-goers, Matt could hear the announcement loud and clear. It took him a moment to cross-check the number on his raffle card and the numbers played aloud on the intercom, but it was proven correct in an instant. Pocketing the card, his head moves up and takes a cursory glance around the area he was in.

He stood within the middle of a boulevard of a convention center, not necessarily directly near any retailers or exhibitions. He was mainly roaming around taking in the sights and trying to understand the layout of this year's convention. Where he stood there were walking around left and right, individuals and groups of friends. Among the people in standard attire were various cosplayers ranging from video game characters to anime ones. As for Matt, he was just one of those individuals in casual clothing. A black long sleeved shirt, gray pants, and dark grey shoes.

He begins to tread casually through the middle of the boulevard, relieved at the fact that he shouldn't be too far away from the catering area of the convention. His thoughts wander to the announcement, curious about what the raffle he won would fetch him. Admittedly he wasn't exactly excited, but more so intrigued.

As the announcement entailed, this was the third in a line of raffles. It was also the third in about an hour and a half since the convention presumably began. The locations that each winner was deemed to head to seemed different with each announcement. Unfortunately, the only other one he could really recall correctly was one to someplace called the HoloDrome. But it leads him to wonder how different the prizes were amongst the winners.

The lighting begins to brighten slightly as Matt closes in on the catering area. Smells of various foods begin to permeate through the air the closer he gets, and soon it's really all that can be smelt once he properly enters the region. The source of the smells range from the various concession stands lining the area, the rows bisected by tables sprinkled about the area. As he starts to walk through the area he adjusts his glasses for a moment. His eyes slowly scan for the place he was looking for.

Matt whispers under his breath the name as he does so. Big Bang Beverages. A peculiar name, he thinks. Also not one he's familiar with. But then again he never goes around memorizing the concessions at these places.

He's lucky that it doesn't take long to locate what he was looking for. A stand nestled between two other ones in the left row. It stood out particularly well because of how… average it seemed. As Matt started to step closer, he took note of the weird air that seemed to emanate from it. The front casing of the stand was completely black with no additional design flare. The stand's logo used the most generic font. It felt almost manufactured in a way. He tries to ignore that though as he finally walks up to the stand itself.

The internal portions of the stand were a silvery white and contained various tools for beverage creation, a few stacks of cups beside those tools. The only person within it was a man of average build and looks wearing what looked to be a standard button-up uniform. Matt took notice of a logo on the right side of the uniform of a company he can't quite pin down, but his eyes then drew to the man's name tag: Louis.

"Hello!" the stand worker greeted with a smile.

"Uhh, hey," Matt shoved a hand in his pocket and took hold of his raffle card. "I'm uh, Matt. Won the third raffle." He then holds out the card for the man to take.

Louis takes the card. "478, wonderful!"

Matt raised a brow. "Could've just called me by my name but alright…" he says in a whisper.

Louis seems not to hear (or just practically ignore) Matt as the man bends down and trifles with something under the stand's table. Matt grew a little curious as the noises that accompanied the worker was metal clanking as something was inserted and unlocked followed by the hiss of depressurizing air. Louis then stands back up with a smile, a medium-sized metallic object in his hand. "Here!" He places the object onto the table and slides it closer to Matt. Matt looks down at it to inspect it.

It seemed to be a flask of some kind. Circular with a cylindrical protrusion. Metallic silver with a light coating of… rust? Dirt? Something. Curious, he picks it up and is greeted with the noise of something liquid inside. Unscrewing the cap, his nostrils are filled with the familiar scent of tea. He peers into the container to inspect the liquid, eye widening as he notices small spherical objects floating within the fluid. Strangely, the objects within looked stylized. Black with protrustions on them, almost reminiscent to a stereotypical look of a bomb.

"Boba tea…?" he asks no one in particular.

"Yup! It's our unique Frag Bomb Tea, only sold for a limited time here! However, you also get the flask as well!"

"Uhuh…" Matt presses the flask against his lips and takes a small sip. Tasted kind of milky and sweet, accompanied with a weird bubbly feeling to it akin to carbonation. It didn't interfere much with the taste though.

"We thought with the grand event coming up later today we'd produce something for the occasion."

Matt swallows the swig of tea and moves the flask away. "You mean that Overwatch IRL event or whatever?"

"Yup! A lot of the stands here have been hammering the Overwatch-theming. That beverage in particular is meant to be reminiscent of Junkrat!"

Matt nods. "I can definitely see it…"

He lifts the flask back up and takes another drink, mind starting to wander. He was well aware of the Overwatch IRL event going on, although he barely had any real information on it. It was hyped up as some grand event for this convention, however the specifics behind it were all under wraps. Theories roamed around online about it being a complex costume contest or some form of roleplayish question panel. These were even a few outlandish ones like it being some kind of musical or something-

His thoughts are interrupted for a second as he realizes a few boba cascades through his mouth. There was a flavor to them he couldn't quite pin down. It wasn't fruity, but it had a sweetness to it.

Matt hums as he pulls the flask away again, a shiver running down his body for a moment. "That was weird…" he whispers before starting up another conversation with Louis. "Hey, what ingredients did you use in this boba? It tastes good but I can't exactly pin down what's in it…"

Louis just smiles. It was getting eerie at this point. "Company secrets I can't divulge."

"Well, alright…"

"You should go enjoy the convention now! I hope you like your prize~"

Matt tilts his head in confusion, a little confused at that last statement. It had a tone that felt like a 'go away'. But considering he had nothing else to really say, he might as well. He turns his back and walks away, taking another quick sip of his tea as he goes, unaware of the fate that lies ahead of him.

Matt exits from where he came, heading out from the catering area and returning to the boulevard. All the while he occasionally takes small drinks from his new flask. He's never really had something like this before, but the taste of this tea was rather nice. He still kind of wishes he knew what was in the boba though.

Strangely, with each consumption of boba, he also finds his body taking weird shivers. There was no noticeable temperature shift, he didn't feel cold, but for some reason he'd have a sudden shiver run down his spine. He tried to ignore it though.

Ultimately Matt decides to walk into the opposing region to the catering district. An area composed of various bits and pieces that didn't truly fit a singular theming. He found himself walking past a small tattooing booth on one side, and on the other side some random booth that seemed empty.

Taking another sip from his tea, a few beads of sweat start to form on his forehead as now he begins to feel a warmth start to rack his body. "Ough, did the heat get turnt up…"

The cause of this wasn't heat related, mostly. Rather it was because something was starting to change in his body. It was subtle at first, though. Arms and legs getting a little more defined, his torso and abdominals pronouncing a little more. Small amounts of muscle slowly expanding throughout his form. It was just enough to cause his shirt to start rubbing up more against his skin, body steadily filling it out.

His leg feels numb for a moment, causing him to stumble a little. He quickly manages to stop himself before he falls though. "Ugh, startin' ta…" he stops to clear his throat. "Starting to feel kinda weird." Did his voice sound a little strange for a second? No, that can't be right.

He tries to shake everything off as he continues his walk. He tries to roll his shoulders, his delts continuing to expand. Previously nonexistent muscle spirals around his arms. His biceps and triceps grow a little thicker, the muscles in his forearms doing the same as well. It isn't very long until his sleeves properly fill out. His musculature isn't the most impressive, but it is definitely noticeable beneath his clothing.

A pressure enters his bones for a moment shortly after as they are forced slightly longer. The ends of each sleeve run further upward and away from his wrist. His left arm then starts numbing, a stronger numbness than what was in his leg. One that felt oddly permanent. He took note of this and, with what little strength he had left in that arm, transferred his flask to be held by his right hand.

He stares at his hand and proceeds to grip and ungrip it. It was responding to his actions, but he didn't really feel it. A pang of worry entered him, but a part of him was attempting to rationalize this. As if to say that this was fine.

He also noticed the new musculature in his arms. "Were my arms always this thick…?" he asks himself, a brow raised. They… must've been, right?

He shakes his head. He's worrying too much about this. It's fine, it's fine. He lifts the flask to his mouth again and takes a drink of it. With an exhale, his worries fade. It's fine!

With a couple more steps Matt walks out from in between the two booths and into a smaller boulevard. He curiously looked around, finding a few more assorted booths. In the distance was a photo-op area, and he could just make out what seemed like a few autograph booths beside it. His head then turns a few degrees rightward, turning upwards as something else piques his interest.

It was the only part of the wall that seemed to roundly curve outward. It also stood out as it was the only wall that wasn't colored beige, being a deep blue instead. At the bottom of it was a doorway that was blocked off by a few velvet ropes (as if that'd stop anyone), but as he looks further up he finds a massive screen with the Overwatch logo displayed on it. Beneath that logo was a number that was counting down.

"Ninety minutes…" he says, entranced momentarily. There's a fraction of him that kind of wants to break in there and roam around, perhaps cause some… mmph, he shakes his head and casts the thought away. Strange, he's never had that kind of thought before.

He presumed that place to be the famed HoloDrome where the convention's key event was going to take place and decided to ignore it for the time being, taking a left instead. If he remembered properly, this would be the way to the exhib…

Matt's leg numbs a second time and does so for a few seconds longer. He stops walking in order to prevent himself from risking falling, but still finds himself wobbling for a few moments until his leg regains feeling. He takes another sip from his flask and sighs. "My body's actin'-" he clears his throat again. "Everything's acting really weird today. Heck, I swear my voice sounds weird every so often…" It sounded like for a moment there was an odd shift in tone and accent in his voice. Such a notion felt absurd to Matt, though.

He starts walking again, and with each step his body changes more. His sleeves stretch a little bit more as a final bout of muscle growth is incurred in his arms. His hands were also catching up with all the changes, growing and stretching to become slightly larger than they were before. Changes in them weren't as impressive as other changes in his body as the only shifts that occurred were them getting a little meatier. At least, that's what was happening in his right one…

The numbness in his left hand and arm seemed to be a result of a much greater change. Beneath the elbow the forearm rippled, skin and muscle seeming to squelch and tighten as the material upon it hardened. Pale skin deepened, orange fading in as his flesh was morphed into metal. The bottom end of that sleeve tore against the transforming limb, fabric shredding as metal continued to extend from the area.

The associated hand's changes mirrored that of the arm, albeit it seemed a little more intricate. Fingers bulking, cell structure twisting into something inorganic. Mechanical joints rippling forth from his own joints, each finger splitting into a more mechanical and functional version of themselves. Rivets and screws bubbling and popping into place, everything reformulating as his entire hand was transformed into something mechanical.

While feeling wasn't restored in that hand, Matt had a sensory perception of his nervous system having been connected to it. All he gave it was a cursory glance as he heard his shirt sleeve tear against it, a few bits of fabric slipping off the slightly weathered metal.

"Huh…" was Matt's only acknowledgement, his voice slightly lower and raspier at the time. For a second he thinks something is off, but shakes his head and looks upwards, continuing his walk.

"Nice mech arm, man!" a random stranger says towards Matt as he walks. He stops for a moment and turns towards them, his mind trying to register the compliment. He finds it odd for a split second, but loses that feeling an instant later.

"Th…thank ya!" he responds. Matt's eyes widen and he shakes his head again. "Jeez, my voice keeps gettin' weird…" He takes another swig of his boba tea and resumes his trek.

He was roughly two thirds of the way to the exhibitors area now. The mechanics in his arm whir as he opens and closes it, a sense of newness settled in his mind despite himself having a conflicting sense of familiarity with it. Come to think of it, a lot of Matt's mind was conflicted, but every drink he takes from his flask seems to suppress it more and more.

He raises his mechanical hand and pulls at the neck of his shirt. The body part was now starting to properly feel a little tight as well. Ridges formed in the black fabric as his torso began to push out slightly, pectorals properly emerging from that region. His abdominal region was also slowly growing out, although it was not as prominent as his pecs were. That area remained a little flat, although the ridges of a budding six pack were steadily etching their way across his form.

The hem of his shirt began to rise further up his belly as a pressure settled in his back. Matt felt a little disoriented as the world around him started to adjust in some way. Looking down he saw that the ground was getting further from him, and his shirt was riding up his body. "Why did I wear such… small clothin'... Come ta think of it why am I… wearin'... Mphm…" he shakes his head again. Why did going shirtless sound… appealing just now? And his voice kept changing… why did it sound like it was bordering on an Aussie accent?

He tries to ignore it and takes another drink. He starts to wonder how he hasn't gotten to the bottom of this, or how he hasn't even run out of boba. Everything about this is weird, but it's fine!

As his shirt tightens a little more, Matt also starts to feel something stimulate his skin. A weird feeling of something leathery snake around his body, circling the sides of his torso and extending around his pecs. The chill of something metallic settles on the upper half of his back as something begins to materialize there. All it does is make his shirt tighten more.

Stumbling slightly, Matt finally enters the exhibitors district. Various booths focused on the latest information regarding different medias lined this region. Much like everywhere else, people and cosplayers alike were doing their own things.

Matt could sense eyes on his as he stumbled slightly into the area, him feeling his leg numb again. Walking started to shift more into hobbling as moving that leg had finally become hard to do. "God, I hope no one thinks I'm drunk…" he mutters to himself. Although this haze in his mind might as well make him drunk but like… there didn't seem to be any alcohol in this tea.

With another drink he shakes his head. "Agh, who the hell cares about what others think!" he says a little too loudly, his voice growing deeper with each new word. A noticeable Australian accent was even settling into it. He garnered the attention of a few more conventiongoers, but many of them decided to look away.

Matt shifts his flask to his left hand again, the metal of the flask clinking against the metal of his hand as he does so. A smile starts to plaster on his face as his eyelids start to move downwards a little. He places a hand in his hair and scratches his scalp a little, the man starting to feel a warmth etch into that region as well. "Damn, the heat's gettin' annoyin'..."

Not as bad as Aus, though, he thinks to himself. He blinks at the thought though. "Urgh, what's with my… my mind today…"

He stumbles again. Fuckin' 'ell-

He tries to regain himself quickly, his pants becoming the next to tighten as similar changes swath that region. While his legs had already become a little more toned over the course of the past ten minutes, their changes were kicked into overdrive. More muscle loaded into them, albeit a similar size as that in his arms. Thighs thickening, the crus of his legs bulging as his calves grew larger. His legs also grew longer, his height increasing even more and the legs of his pants rising.

He resolves to just stop moving, Matt feeling even more eyes on him. He looks around, a slight look of aggression in his face. "Oi, who y'all lookin' at?! Mind yer own business!"

His outburst seemed to get most people to divert gazes away, although there were still one or two who seemed to watch. Matt didn't care too much at that point though, his own attention drawing to his legs. Shaking his head and blinking, his eyelids flitter a little. "Fuck, something is… nngh…" he squeezes his eyes shut and presses his right hand into his scalp. "N-no, 's fine-"

Despite its numbness he could feel a heavy pressure compressing his left leg and foot, although it seemed more focused in his foot. Within a shoe, the foot was squishing and compacting, flesh, bone, and muscle twisting and squeezing. The associated lower leg was thinning at the same time, atrophying at a rapid pace and going beyond what would be considered human.

His flesh and bone hardened to a cold metal. It wasn't long until his left foot was warped into nothingness, structure fading into a thin and flat tip. At the same time, a yellow spiral coiled around the upper end of the newly created metallic peg leg. The end that connected to his knee bulged out, skin and muscle dislodged and reshaping. His kneecap practically split in half and became a metallic casing as his knee itself became a metallic joint, two massive screw-like connections emerging from it. A silver ring then bulged around the flesh above his knee region, becoming a clean connection to his knee prosthetic leg.

He lifted the new leg out of his shoe and sighed before lifting his head back up. A few eyes were still drawn on him. "Ain't never seen anyone with a… a metal leg before??"

He blinked again. His voice kept fluctuating but to a bystander it was clear it was being overtaken by something decidedly Australian. A few people continued to stay, looking worried, but Matt just lost the ability to care at this point. His new leg clicking against the floor, Matt continues his walk through the convention center, all while drinking some more from his flask.

The toes of his remaining foot curled as he could feel his shoe get smaller. That foot was easily growing in size, steadily getting larger and thicker and pressing up against the cloth of his shoes even more.

His eyes zip around the area of the convention center he was in, Matt's back arching as he was settling into a slouched position. Every so often he'd take a sip from his flask, but his mind kept jumping to weird thoughts he couldn't bat away.

A more chaotic state of mind was seeping into the man's brain. He had already experienced such thoughts earlier but something about this felt overpowering. There was a desire to cause mayhem, to cause some form of destruction- But even then, some part of him still tried to keep such thoughts away, to retain some rationale.

The almost manic smile creeping onto his face was a clear sign rationality wasn't winning.

He runs another hand through his hair, rolling his eyes as his mind continues to descend into a state of chaos. Multiple ripple throughout his face as he walks, the structure and vibe of it shifting into something far from what it used to be.

His broad structure steadily narrows out; lower jaw lengthening and chin sharpening as his skull shape is compressed thinner. Facial features shift and restructure; mouth widening, ears noticeably pushing out, his round nose sharpening to a dull point while a mole formed on the left side of it. The feeling of his face squeezing and shifting felt almost euphoric to him for some reason.

He blinked his eyes, his eyesight seeming to improve drastically. As it does so his irises seem to brighten to a bright greenish-yellow, and his eyes seem to sink into his head slightly. His eyebrows flare out and, starting from the tips and moving down, brighten to a dusty blonde. Brows grow thicker and bushier, the ends styling, spiking, and curling to something almost flame-like.

Speaking of flames, the heat on his head seems to progress until a dull flare enters it. Brown follicles throughout the peak of his head and down slowly burn away in an oddly symmetrical pattern. It's not the most drastic of changes though as what remains of his hair seems to stay in a perpetual flame, those follicles lengthening and sticking out higher. The style shifts from neatly combed to a cataclysmic style of stuck up hair that in itself was reminiscent of a burning fire. At the same time, the color shifts as blonde overtakes browns at a quick pace, and smoldered black enters in certain points as well.

He pulls off his glasses and crushes them in his mechanical hand, letting the fragments and frame clatter to the ground shortly after. "Don't know why I was wearin' those!" He then stopped for a moment as he started to feel his shirt tighten more. "Oohoh what's…" he closes his eyes and moans slightly, smile faltering and voice cracking for a second. "What's going on…"

Something started to push from his back, pulling his shirt to his front at a steadily increasing pressure. More and more this grew, small tears forming and expanding territory to reveal his chest. What looked to be a harness grew visible with each passing second. The back of his shirt was gaining a noticeable circular indent that only seemed to grow as whatever was forming was getting bigger, bigger and bigger.

The faltered smile restores to its manic glory, his eyes widening. "Heh… heheheh- this is feelin' goooood…"

His shirt continues to tear apart over his chest at a constantly increasing rate. Black fabric was easily sloughing away as whatever was pulling at it still got larger. He could feel a weight forming as the size was becoming evident, but the sensation of his constricting clothes being torn away filling him was pure ecstasy. The circular formation in the back of his shirt continues to grow some more before it convulses for a few seconds. A cacophony of tears echoed through the air as one final crescendo, and a loud bwoomph! accompany them from behind him.

The man twitched slightly as he regained his bearings. His head turns slightly to glance at the newly materialized object. A large circular chunk of rubber with metallic spikes sticking out of it. "Ah! My RipTire~"

He can feel the eyes of others on him again. They were accompanied by whispers that he felt were almost judgemental (even though in truth they were of worry). A part of him flares up, wanting to show them a thing or two… He shakes his head. Some sense of rationality still stubbornly remained. He sneers as he walks further down.

More feelings started to run through his body as various final changes ran through it. He felt something appear around his right wrist, a tire-like band appearing before a substance exploded out the top of it and wrapped around his hand and hardened into a leather glove. On his left arm something inked into the flesh of the upper arm, a concise image forming as a skull and crossbones tattoo forms on the skin. At the same time, the fingernails of his remaining hand darkened to black.

A new material soon grazed the skin of his legs as what seemed to be a new set of legwear started forming beneath his current set. Slightly scratchy fabric rubbing up against his skin as it threads itself around each leg. Something about this seemed to cause his current pants to begin to rip, revealing the camo pattern of the new pants.

His current belt buckle then snapped, the button of his pants breaking and zipper descending as a new belt buckle materialized beneath the region and pushed everything out the way. An even greater sight of destruction occurred to the left side of his, a lump forming in that side of his pants before it floomf'd out into a pouch. Slowly, the remains of his old pants start sliding down and making way for his new legwear.

The feeling of bandages wrapping around his right foot ran through that area, followed by the feeling of something else encasing it. Something akin to the top line of a boot slipped around his ankle and rose from the top of the shoe, hinting at the nature of what formed there. His shoe underwent its own pressure as result, the footwear pushing outward being forced to a new limit. The straps snapping, cloth ripping. The shoe couldn't handle it anymore as shortly after the cloth shattered revealing a new, if not ill fitting, boot; black in color and leather in material. He wiggles his toes at the sense of freedom.

Shreds of his former legwear sloughing off more, his new pair of pants seem to fully reveal themselves in their glory of frayed legs, camo coloration, and various patchings stitched around them. With one last drink out of his flask Matt clips it to his belt, content. Although really, is he Matt anymore?

His mind was practically overtaken with an irrational desire to destroy something. The very thought was no longer concerning, but instead rather appealing! It was an intense feeling of mental pandemonium. Of an overpowering desire for causing havoc.

A voice begins to echo through the massive convention hall. “Can Matt, numerical designation 478, head to the HoloDrome sector. We repeat…”

He stopped walking and planted a hand on his head. His voice cracks, likely for one last time, as it shifts into a mix of two voices. "I… that’s my… eheh… heheheh~"

Crazy laughter escaped his throat as his mind finally snapped. His voice settles into a perfect Australian accent, and his mind settles into a perfect manifestation of madness. A truly explosive personality! As a result, a new identity was nestled into his brain.

“Matt? That ain’t my name! The name’s Junkrat…!”

A few more glares are thrown his way but at this point they are no longer lingering. With a frenzied smile he looks around the spot he stands in. He had no recollection of where he was or who any of these people were, but…

He feels a weight push onto his torso, prompting Junkrat to look down at the source. His grenades…

“Heheh, maybe just one…”

His thought pattern is broken when he’s suddenly acknowledged by a set of strangers.

“Nice cosplay, man!” One says, prompting Junkrat to turn around. The one who spoke was a slightly burly looking man, dark skinned man with fake-looking blue armor and an orange scarf. Accompanying him is a woman in some kind of blue and gold dress (or at least that’s what Junkrat thought it to be). She also seemed to have a prosthetic arm (which Junkrat wasn’t aware was fake).

“You’ve got the acting pretty well~” The woman begins to take out her phone. “Mind if we get a picture with you?”

Junkrat raises a brow and smiles. A picture? With him? Such a proposition was stroking his ego. “Sure!”

The duo gather around him, sandwiching him between themselves. The woman holds out her phone and holds up a peace sign and the man smiles. Junkrat smiles as well, although his is more maniacal. After a few seconds a shutter sounds emit from the phone, the picture being taken, and the duo break away.

“Thanks a lot man!” The man said, smiling and walking away. The woman follows behind him, letting out a “Yeah, thanks!” as she departs.

With that dealt with, Junkrat proceeds to turn around and eye the convention hall. With that distraction out the way, he can-

“Can uh… Junkrat? Numerical designation 478, head to the HoloDrome sector.”

Junkrat’s face falls and he rolls his eyes. “The heck’s a HoloDrome…” he whispers to himself. “Eh, whatever, I’m sure it’s not important!”

He begins to clasp a hand on a grenade pinned to his harness, eyeing a good (and preferably not crowded) spot to throw it. Unfortunately for him, he’s interrupted a second time…

A large, thick hand grabs his shoulder, followed by the sound of a deep voice muffled by a mask. No words were spoken, just an elongated guttural grunt.

It takes a few seconds for Junkrat to register the voice, but once he does he somehow slumps more than he already does. “Roadhog! When’d you get here?”

The gas mask they wear is emotionless, but Junkrat practically feels displeasure illuminating from the larger man.

“Uh-huh… well Roadie, I think now’d be a good time to-”

A third announcement rings through the walls of the convention hall, except this time it’s a more feminine voice in a clearly annoyed tone. “Junkrat, numerical designation 478, head to the HoloDrome sector immediately. Precautionary measures will be taken if you do not heed to this announcement. God, this is so FUCKING annoyi-” the announcement then abruptly cuts off.

Junkrat can practically feel Roadhog’s gaze pierce his very form. He turns to Roadhog and smiles nervously. “Heheh, guess we should head there then…?”

Roadhog nods, then lifts an arm and points in the direction forward to him.

Junkrat turns around, vision centering at the outwardly rounded portion of the wall. A large screen that was even visible from where the two were displays a weird circular logo with a bunch of numbers below it. “I guess we’re going there then!”

The two begin to walk towards their destination, garnering gazes from the conventiongoers. A silence settles between then for a second, one that was quickly broken by Junkrat.

“...how do you know that’s where we’re supposed to go?”

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

Even to Junkrat there was an uneasy feeling of artificiality in the location he now was in.

Despite it clearly looking like the outside, the lack of proper heating or fresh air was noticeable. Nonetheless, it looked like the perfect replica of some small village that he had no idea was an actual place or not. He was also apparently put in a team of some kind. Said team was prompted to sit around some weird looking truck. That was a long time ago though. Now he’s just alone, leaning on a wall, fingers itching to cause some destruction. Roadhog had left a few minutes prior, presumably to inspect the area a bit more. The larger man was likely assured he could leave the Aussie alone after Junkrat failed to blow up a wall. He was still seething about that incident, by the way.

He watches the rest of his teammates communicate amongst themselves. There were only six of them including him and Roadhog. He didn’t really get any of their names though. There was some older looking dude in a mask, a dark skinned guy with dreadlocks, an Omnic that was surrounded by gold orbs, and…

A hulking guy in armor walking right towards him.

“Ah! I don’t think I’ve gotten a chance to introduce myself to you…” The man speaks in a deep and boisterous tone with an unfamiliar accent lacing it. His face is shown to be pretty old; weathered with thick graying hair and a beard. “The name’s Reinhardt!” he says loudly, holding out a hand.

Junkrat doesn’t hesitate to grasp it and shake. “Junkrat!”

Reinhardt smiles. “It is nice to meet the both of you! There seems to be quite the colorful cast where we are…”

“I dun even know where we are, big guy. I just have the itch to blow something up…”

“I take it you were the cause of the explosion I heard earlier, then?”

“Yup! Although it didn’ even do any damage! Everythin’ here looks like it’s made of wood and shit, a hole should’ve been blown clean through that wall!”

Reinhardt nods. “This place has some peculiar properties. It’s an odd reminiscent of a place I have… memories of. It fills me with a feeling of uncertainty.”

Junkrat’s eyes just slowly drift sideways, unsure how to respond to that.

“Ough, I apologize. Went a little too personal there. Either way, I’m sure we’ll make a great team here!”

Junkrat just nods. “Yeah. Do you even know what we’re doin’ ‘ere?”

“...no. Not really. I actually kind of woke up…”

Their conversation is abruptly interrupted by an accented, calm, feminine voice ringing through the area. “All participants please move to your stations. We will commence the event in five minutes.”

Reinhardt looks up. “There’s that voice again…”

“I don’t know what stations it wants us to go to, but I have a feelin’ I’ll finally be able to set something ablaze!”

“You’re quite the eccentric one, aren’t you?” Reinhardt says with a deep laugh.

But Junkrat doesn’t respond. A goofy and manic smile forms on his face, the Aussie filling with excitement as the prospect of causing some chaos enters his brain.

This is going to be great…

#character tf #human tf #transformation #tf

7 notes · View notes

wickedsrest-rp · 2 years ago

Text

Name: Johanna "Jo" Rose Kier Species: Human / Werewolf Occupation: Unemployed Age: 27 Years Old Played By: Bee Face Claim: Margaret Qualley

"The upside called and said it was too busy for me to look at it."

Jo blames it all on the wolf. If the wolf had simply done a better job at fucking mauling her, then her life wouldn’t be an absolute dumpster fire.

Johanna Rose Kier was the baby of the family- the whoopsies, if you will. Maggie and Georgia were already in high school and junior high respectively when little Johanna came into the picture. Her sisters were tough acts to follow: both honor roll students juggling extra curriculars, both going off to prestigious universities with scholarships by the time Jo was learning her ABCs or times tables, both landing jobs they loved, and that made Maureen and Jon Kier proud.

It was already a fact that Johanna wanted to do whatever it was that her older sisters were doing, be it sports or music or good grades. But with her career path- well, she couldn’t be just anything. Maggie was going to law school, and Georgia was going to become a Computer Engineer. What would she be? A doctor. She decided when she was in fourth grade, when she wound up stuck at Wicked’s Rest General for hours waiting for her mother to be done with work. She knew she was supposed to be sitting in the break room doing homework, but it was already snowing out, and there were rumors of a rare snow day… so Jo crept around the ER, watching and listening to people who were sick or hurting get the help they needed.

It wasn’t until her junior year of high school that she decided she would be a surgeon. The plan unfolded itself before her in a long but straight path from Valedictorian of her graduating high school class all the way through Harvard Medical’s surgical program and her residency. By 31, she would be a surgeon at some prestigious hospital saving lives. She had her life planned down to the minute.

But fate doesn’t listen to the demands of mere mortals, and it laughs in the faces of plans they make.

She had been home for a week in the summer between her third and forth year of medical school when it happened. Jo had been jogging in the early evening down one of the paths in Lyssa’s Peak- probably the stupidest decision she had made in her entire life. All she really remembers from that night is that she had been headed back in her loop, back towards where her car was waiting, when she heard a growling in the woods. Then nothing.

They found her about a hundred feet off the path, barely holding onto life. Jo didn’t remember being found or getting to the hospital, she didn’t remember the surgeries or the people coming in and out of her room in the ICU at Wicked’s Rest General. Days became weeks became months in a blur of time and pain.

Three months. Three fucking months. Almost four, if she hadn’t started becoming the bane of every nurse and doctor’s existence. It was better than what all the doctors had expected. Her body had been a complete mess after the attack, and yet it seemed to mend itself quicker than it should have considering the extent of the damage. The first thing Jo could really remember was not being able to use her right hand. Nerve damage, they said. The scars started at her neck and trailed down her shoulder, her arm… A miracle the surgeons had saved it, they said. Lucky. Funnily enough, Jo did not feel lucky in any way shape or form.

Her spot had been saved in medical school, but Jo very quickly realized that the straightshot path she had planned for herself was officially lost to her. She had a tremor in her hands she couldn’t shake, and she could hardly handle being in the hospital as a patient. Everything was far too loud and far too bright. And the smell. Fucking hell, the smell alone could cause a migraine. Being a surgeon was officially out of the question. Just like that, Jo’s perfectly planned life shattered into a thousand pieces. Fate laughed.

It took a few months for her to realize something was up- she still doesn’t quite know what it is, but she knows it isn’t normal. The mood swings around the full moon were the worst part. Well, that and the lack of sleep at night and the pitiful looks she got from the majority of her family. Like she was broken. Like she was officially the family failure and disaster. It wasn’t until March, the third month in a row of strange symptoms that she couldn’t blame on the physical or mental trauma, symptoms that revolved around the moon…

Science and reason said werewolves weren’t real. Just stories people made up to scare the shit out of each other or explain the things they didn’t like. So she wasn’t a werewolf…

… Right?

Character Facts:

Personality: Independent, clever, observant, abrasive, sarcastic, disruptive

She is the youngest of three, Maggie being the oldest and still living in Wicked’s Rest with her daughter Violet (who is three years old and Jo’s favorite person in Wicked’s Rest if not the world) and husband; and Georgia, who moved far away to California for some dream tech job that Jo doesn’t pretend to understand.

She is a Wicked’s Rest Born-and-Raised girl. Amazing how she didn’t know about the werewolf population before she got attacked.

The worst of the damage from the attack was done to her right side, specifically her right arm, however, there was damage to the whole of the torso. They assume she tried to escape, which resulted in more injury.

Jo’s most recent partner broke up with her… while she was in the hospital. She couldn’t (or wouldn’t) look at Jo. Kept saying things that pretended like her life hadn’t just blown up before their eyes. And then one day she just… stopped coming. Stopped calling. Jo pretends it doesn’t bother her, and if you ask her she will absolutely tell you where to go and how to get there. She hasn’t dipped her toe in the dating pond since. Why bother? It’s not worth it.

What is worse than getting attacked by a wolf? Having to live with your parents after the fact! And watching them stare at you like you’re something broken! Hooray! Johanna wants to move out and is actively looking for a roommate and a place that she can afford.

She wants a pet dog. Or something. A pet something. Jo thinks after the year she’s had, she deserves a pet.

#mongrel #margaret qualley #retired

11 notes · View notes

wordofyourbroadway · 2 years ago

Text

Interview with the Creators of ‘Dusk : A Bite-Size Love Story’

(AKA... the Twilight Musical)

While surfing Tiktok last month, I stumbled upon a video, promoting a new comedic musical theatre parody of Stephenie Meyer’s famed “Twilight” franchise.

Originally released in 2005, Meyer’s iconic tetralogy of love and action, (and hot werewolf/vampire romantic interests), has been a subject of polarity. Some argue it is a masterpiece that turned them into readers, or got them into the fantasy genre, meanwhile others find it simply hilarious, and love to meme-ify it.

This new musical I discovered, seems to cover the story of Twilight in a way that pleases both sides. Not only is it hilarious and very aware of the silly aspects of the story, it is also clearly full of heart and it is visible that a lot of care and passion went into the creation process.

In March 2023, I posted one of my weekly “Word of Your Broadway” (my musical-theatre centered podcast) episodes, and funnily enough, I mentioned that I would love to see Twilight be turned into a comedic musical, similar to what “Starkid” did, with their infamous “A Very Potter” Musical.

So naturally, when I discovered “Dusk”, I took it as a sign, and I asked them if they would be interested in a written interview, which I can use to launch this blog, and they very kindly accepted!

See below for the Q’s, which were answered by director and writer, Morgan Kennedy (@Mo.Ea.Kennedy), and music composer, Daniel Ruffing (@DanielRuffing)...

1. Morgan, you said in an interview with ErieNewsNow, that ‘Dusk’ is your debut show. What would you say was the biggest lesson you learned during this process as a beginner?

MORGAN: “This entire process has been brand new to me! Every aspect of my life has been chaotically altered by this project. Despite a near 20-year involvement in musical theatre and even longer relationship with story-telling, nothing could have adequately prepared me for the last year-worth of synchronistic pandemonium Dusk has inspired. I hadn’t written for the stage before, so the most practical lesson I’ve learned has probably been standard formatting for musical theatre. The first draft looked like an average script, but the margins and stage directions (I’ve since learned) were a nightmare. This wasn’t initially of consequence, but it’s something I try to stay on top of now (I’m still learning). Dusk began with such impure intentions; I made a joke about writing a jukebox parody musical of Twilight to the director of another project I was working on last April, and she enabled the idea by saying “If you write it, we’ll do it.” Calling her bluff, I promised to have a script ready later that week, not ever intending to actually write one. To my surprise, however, I was struck with inspiration later that same evening and had a first draft together within four hours. That draft read more like a manic satirical retelling of Twilight than the loving critique it has become, and absolutely no effort was put into proper formatting or grammar. Spell check single-handedly made the document legible. My goal in completing it was truthfully just to follow through on the joke. I did not anticipate the excitement it caused or the initial iteration being so well-received. That was the point where I realized we had an opportunity to take the project seriously and that I should probably start learning how to ‘become a playwright.’ On a less practical note, the biggest lesson I’ve learned as a beginner playwright is the amount of collaboration and communication that goes into writing for theatre. It differs greatly, in my experience, from other forms of writing, which tend to be solo endeavors. For a musical, especially, so much goes into the development process that I now believe a strong team is absolutely crucial to your survival, haha. You need to be able to rely on people. This type of work necessitates a lot of trust and vulnerability, which can be overwhelming. I’ve had to navigate a number of personal lessons in that regard while developing Dusk, but I can gratefully say I’ve grown significantly as a result. I’m so thankful for my team; I couldn’t ask for better people to be spending all my time with. It is definitely a unique and intense sort of working relationship, though.”

2. Daniel, As the music composer of the show, do you think it was MORE challenging to compose a musical cast album for a franchise that already has such an iconic soundtrack, as opposed to an original piece, or was it easier because there was more inspiration to work off of?

DANIEL: “I actually found this to be one of the easiest projects in my music composition career! I really love creating musical nods and references in my previous works, so writing this musical involved a lot of that kind of thing. There’s definitely more inspiration to work off of, and it always provides a decent baseline to follow so that you, for example, aren’t making songs too “showtune-y.” One of my favorite writing exercises is to take one or two bars from a song and try to come up with my own song that transforms those bars into something original, and that’s a lot of what we did for this musical, especially with the help of George Meucci, who came up with samples for a few of the songs”

3. Your social media presence is very strong and you make awesome Tiktok videos that keep up with trends and draw in a large audience. How important of a role do you believe social media plays for musicals nowadays in relation to their success?

DANIEL: “It is crucial- so many musicals have had their success start on apps like TikTok, and the same is true for Dusk! With Dusk especially, our target audiences are younger than average theatregoers, so using social media has been integral to getting the musical seen and heard.

MORGAN: Dan is absolutely right! Social media plays a critical role in the growth of almost all concepts and stories these days, and Dusk is no exception. Where our situation differs slightly is that Dusk, as a parody, is a derivative work, which offers somewhat of a built-in fanbase. Twilight had such a global impact that the only way for us to feasibly reach a fragment of our intended audience is by using apps like TikTok and Instagram in hopes that the platforms’ algorithms direct our content to those who want to see it. As a bonus, these platforms allow us to connect directly with viewers of our content, and it’s been a lot of fun getting to interact with everybody commenting and leaving questions! It definitely feels like a special community to be a part of!”

4. I know there have been hints about a proshot being released soon, but personally I’m stoked for a potential cast album--any chance we will be getting one soon?

DANIEL: “There absolutely will be a cast album! We are just in the process of mixing and mastering all of the tracks, so hopefully, we have more information soon, but it will be available on all music streaming platforms!”

5. What are your hopes for the future of this musical?

DANIEL: “We are happy to announce that Dusk has been accepted to Edinburgh Festival Fringe this August, so a lot of our future will be dependent on that, but we’d love to do more performances around the world!”

MORGAN: “Along with bringing the show to more cities (more countries?), our team has talked about future hopes to license the Dusk. Personally, I’d love to see how a variety of creative visions and venue capabilities could impact the design and story-telling of the show. Especially because the inspiring-material is something so many people hold opinions on and feel an attachment towards. I have a suspicion that each company’s production would end up playing like a unique love letter, drawing attention to specific details overlooked by other teams who may be more attached to different elements of the story. I find that idea sweet and rather unprecedented for a parody piece.”

6. I noticed a lot of similarities between one of my favorite comedy musical groups, “Starkid”, and your show. I was wondering if they were an inspiration, and if not, who were some of your biggest inspirations during the process of creating this show?

MORGAN: “I’m embarrassed to admit how little familiarity I have with Starkid. I knew the group existed, but I didn’t know the type of work they produced until I started seeing comments comparing the style of our material to theirs online. What I’ve since seen of their work I’ve thoroughly enjoyed, though! I’ll definitely be checking out more! My primary inspiration to write the show stemmed from a silly critical analysis of Twilight I began building when I was 11. I was a fan of the books and movies as they were coming out, but I did not enjoy the first book in the same way my peers seemed to the first time I read it. I didn’t find myself relating to Bella or investing much into the relationship at all–I actually developed a vendetta against boyfriends who secretly did anything; especially when it involved sneaking through windows–but I was absolutely enchanted by Stephenie Meyer’s subtle worldbuilding. There is an undeniable coziness in her depiction of Forks that made it easy, at 11, to overlook any themes, plotlines, or characters that weren’t made for me. I didn’t become more invested in the story until I read New Moon the following year, which further inspired my critique of the series, but also quickly became a comfort read. It was the first book I encountered that explored themes of mental health–albeit, irresponsibly–which got my attention and encouraged me to read the rest of the series with a more focused critical eye. Going forward, I found myself balancing the themes and tones illustrated in the books against those of the films and landing in a place where I thoroughly enjoyed mocking the characters and their decision-making while also psychoanalyzing them and knowing exactly where those choices came from. And with immortal characters, the depths you can go to with a game like that are endless. Though I believe there’s a lot to be said about some of the unhealthy themes, irresponsible characterization, and marginalizing lore seen in the Twilight Saga, I’ll defend that Stephenie Meyer delivered a captivating story with heart and elements of truth that made an impact. I definitely relied heavily on details from the books when writing Dusk, but the movies and (hilarious) memes were also sources of inspiration. I would say that the plot of the musical was inspired by the books and the tone was inspired by the movies and online discourse. The characters are a happy blend of all three. The show’s development was quite expedited, as far as projects of this sort are concerned, so I didn’t have the time to consider ideas drawn from outside sources when creating the draft used for the workshop performance, which is the version people have been seeing clips from on social media. We are, once again, in the revision process, though, and this time I find myself wanting to incorporate elements of storytelling that aren’t explored in-depth within the Twilight universe but seem to exist in that world. I’m very interested in the dynamics amongst the supporting characters, for example. In that regard, I have been most inspired by Psychology journals, a few other book series’, and—oddly enough—Les Mis?”

7. If you could give any other popular movie or book franchise the “Dusk” treatment, which one would you choose?

DANIEL: “I know this sounds weird, but I’ve thought Interstellar would be an interesting challenge for a musical. Maybe not a parody, but I’ve had tons of ideas for songs, and I think it would be an amazing spectacle on stage. If I’m going the parody route, however, I’d have to say The Lord of the Rings franchise!”

MORGAN: “I have agonized over this question! Haha, this one is so hard! I don’t know! At this point in my ‘career,’ I just want to create the things I wish existed. I’m a huge reader, so I love the thought of focusing on book-to-musical adaptations. That evolution makes a lot of sense to me. I read anything now and imagine the staging, or where songs would fit within chapters, how I would choreograph them, the lyrics I’d use, etc. The dream would be to work with authors, helping them to adapt their works into musical productions while I continue writing my own stories. I know that I’m absolutely DYING to write fantasy for the stage, so I would probably choose to parody something in that genre. I’m not sure where I stand on this idea as a parody, but lately I’ve been making jokes about a musical adaptation of stories from the Sarah J. Maas Universe because I can see that entire show so clearly. The music would be stunning, and the visuals would be breathtaking, the combat: badass, and the banter? So indulgent. That being said, there aren’t plans for any more parodies at the moment. We’re working on developing a few original concepts next. We have some beautiful stories in the works!

(PSA: Despite our current plans, I’d rearrange my whole life several more times to work on an epic book-to-musical adaptation. Authors, hit us up! Haha.)”

----

EXTRA RESOURCES:

{ please check out my audio podcast, “Word of Your Broadway” on Spotify! }

{ Click here for the GoFundMe, to help Dusk out on their journey to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival }

SOCIALS FOR “DUSK”:

Twitter (@DuskMusical)

Instagram: (@Dusk_Musical)

Tiktok: (@Dusk_Musical)

Thank you all for reading, and thank you endlessly to Morgan and Daniel for participating! - Chloe Grace

My Twitter: (@WordOfYourBway)

0 notes

sciencelings-arts · 2 years ago

Photo

Now I have officially drawn all the Links of LU! I wanted to focus on the light/ prism kind of aesthetic and give him a more pastel color scheme. Also it gives him more of a juxtaposition to Shadow that I thought would be cool

#i wanted to pose him specifically so i wouldn't have to do all the embroidery on the front #funnily enough this took me about four hours to complete #i also tried to give him a little more of a baby face #im also so proud of that ear #im always so inconsistent about my elf ears but this one looks good!#linked universe #linked universe art #linked universe four #linked universe fanart #lu four

460 notes · View notes

stressy-enby · 3 years ago

Text

Some Scars aren’t Physical: PART 1

Iida x GN! Reader

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Past abusive relationship (gaslighting, possessiveness, yelling), slight panic attack, swearing

Summery: (Y/N) had a terrible boyfriend in middle school. He was possessive, manipulative, and just plain awful. Since breaking up with Him, (Y/N)’s had pretty bad relationship anxiety. It’s so bad, that it makes them afraid to pursue their new crush: the kind, earnest class rep, Tenya Iida.

Link to Part 2

Masterlist

. . .

It only takes one bad experience to ruin something forever.

Take dating, for instance.

You hadn’t had many friends in middle school. You had Izuku, your friend since elementary school, and the people who sat next to you in class who occasionally talked to you. That was about it, but it never mattered. You were still happy.

Then there was Him.

He had been kind. Flattering. He laughed at your jokes and told you His own. You had been happier than you had ever been when you started dating. You spent long nights on the phone with Him, trying to smother your giddy laughter so not to wake the rest of your house. Then you spent hours recounting every moment of the conversation to Izuku, who always rolled his eyes playfully, remarking “As long as you’re happy, (Y/N).”

Then He changed.

It was a gradual shift. You didn’t even realize that something wasn’t right until a month or so into the relationship. It started with Izuku, funnily enough. He didn’t like how close you were with him. You had tried to calmly explain to Him that you were just friends, and had been friends for several years. He wouldn’t have it, though. He never outright asked you to stop spending time with Izuku, but He made it very clear that He didn’t approve of your friendship.

You didn’t want Him to be angry with you. You didn’t cut Izuku out completely, you couldn’t bear to. You did start to avoid him, though.

It didn’t end with Izuku, though. Next it was the classmates you occasionally hung out with. Next it was anyone He didn’t personally know. Next it was anyone if He wasn’t there.

Then there were the arguments. You were frustrated. You told Him that he couldn’t control you like this. But you couldn’t bring yourself to leave Him. Not when His counterarguments where oh so persuasive.

“Listen, these people don’t really care about you. They’re just going to hurt you. I just want to keep you safe. You trust me, right?”

The hurt look on His face was enough for you to assure Him that yes, of course you trusted Him. You weren’t sure how honest you were being, though.

Four months.

It took four months of loneliness, and anxiety for you to finally end it. It took four months of Izuku pleading with you to leave Him before you actually did it.

He wouldn’t go down without a fight, unfortunately. He went down in the end, albeit kicking and screaming. He had raised his voice at our before, but never like this. He had never screamed directly in your face. You’d never cried in front of Him before. You’d been good at hiding it, but the all the pent up anxiety and frustrations you were feeling spilt out when He shrieked at you like that.

He’d been suspended for two weeks. They were over all too fast.

He hardly talked to you when He got back, but you always felt His eyes. They seemed to follow you wherever you went.

Izuku stuck to you like glue. He was a nervous kid, and he never said anything directly to Him, but he was always there, offering you his silent support.

“Do you think you’ll want to date anyone else?” Izuku asked one day.

“No one from our class,” You rolled your eyes, surveying the middle school classroom.

“What about when we get to high school?”

“I don’t know,” You answered after a moment. “I’d like to be in a good relationship, but…”

Izuku frowned. “But?”

You averted your eyes, feeling His gaze burning a hole in the back of your head. “I thought He seemed good at first. Look how well that went.”

. . .

High school felt like heaven. It might’ve been grueling, and sure, villains showed up every other week, but He wasn’t there. Izuku was, though, plus you both managed to make a few other friends.

Iida was one such friend. The first thing you had noticed about him was that he was loud. You had never liked loud people, especially after what had happened with Him, but Iida was never loud to you directly. He was just loud in general.

A few weeks into your friendship with him, and you realized that he was incredibly earnest. He was dependable, and seemed to be one of the kindest, if also intense people you’d ever met.

He was also handsome.

You spent lunch periods staring at Iida’s large hands, wondering what they’d feel like in your own. You laid awake at night, hugging your pillow and pretending it was him.

One night, as you pictured him holding you, his gentle arms suddenly became tight and constrictive. Suddenly, it wasn’t Iida.

It was Him.

Your breathing became sporadic you threw your pillow onto the floor. You folded in on yourself, rubbing your arms to try to rid yourself of His lingering touch.

“I can’t,” You whimpered. “I can’t,”

You wanted to be with Iida, you really did. But He was still poisoning your mind.

. . .

“(L/N), are you doing anything this weekend?”

You hummed noncommittally at Iida, who was standing at your desk, waiting for you to pack up to go home.

“I don’t think so.” You shrugged. “What about you?”

“Well, a cafe recently opened near my home, I’m thinking of checking it out.” He said casually, eyes darting away. “Perhaps you’d like to come with me?”

“Oh!” You exclaimed, looking up at the boy. “Uh, yeah! That sounds fun. It’d be nice to spend some time with you outside of school.”

“Yes, I-I thought the same thing.” Iida readjusted his glasses, a pink dusting forming on his cheeks. “Is Saturday alright with you?”

About twenty minutes later, when you and Izuku were walking home from the train station, he asked if you wanted to do anything over the weekend.

“On Sunday, maybe.” You kicked an acorn along the sidewalk. “Iida and I are going out on Saturday.”

“Woah, really? Like on a date?”

“I- I don’t- what?�� You froze. You replayed the conversation with Iida in your head. “Is it a date? Shit. I can’t go on a date.”

“Why not?” Izuku furrowed his brows in concern. “Iida’s really nice, I think you’d be happy with him. You’d have a good time.”

“Yeah, well we thought I’d be happy with Him too,”

Izuku flinched, understanding flashing in his eyes. “Okay. (Y/N), Iida is lightyears better than Him. Iida’s a super serious guy, but that makes him transparent. If he had ulterior motives, or even if he just seemed like he’d be a dick, you’d know it. Iida isn’t Him. At least go out with him this one time.”

“But I-”

“It’s one date, not marriage.” Izuku reasoned, placing a hand on your shoulder. “There are no obligations. Go out with him. If it goes well, then great! You can do it again, or, don’t. If it goes poorly, then end it there. You don’t have to tie yourself to Iida just because he’s showing interest in you.”

You raised a pointed eyebrow. “What if I’m not interested in him?”

“(Y/N).” Izuku deadpanned. “You and I both know that you are.”

You snickered a little, the sound coming out breathy and broken. “Ok. One date. We’ll see where it goes from there.”

. . .

Izuku knew you and Iida had it bad for each other. The staring longingly when the other wasn’t looking, the flustered laughing, all the goddamn blushing, there was a lot. It was torture watching you both dance around each other, but he knew it wasn’t easy for you. He had left his mark on you, even if it wasn’t a physical one.

Izuku wasn’t exactly thrilled to push you right back into dating when you obviously were uncomfortable, despite knowing that Iida could be a healing presence in your life if you let him.

So you were going on a date with him.

“It’s one date, not marriage.” He had said, trying to convince himself as well as you. “There are no obligations.”

Izuku knew Iida. He trusted him with his life, he just wasn’t sure if he trusted him with you. You, the closest thing to a sibling Izuku had ever had. You, who had stayed his friend even after you had manifested your quirk and he’d been left quirkless. You, who stayed by his side and defended him against Kacchan and his other middle school bullies.

You, who had been hurt before by someone you had liked.

Izuku groaned, flopping onto his bed. “Iida isn’t Him. Iida isn’t Him. He’s not going to hurt (Y/N). They’re going to be fine.”

It still didn’t stop him from constantly checking his phone, to see if you’d messaged him. Today was your date. He check the time again. 3:21. You should be home by now, or at least on the way. He’d told you to text him when you were home and tell him all about the date, but you might’ve forgotten. Maybe he should text your parents?

No. He was your best friend, not your father. He’d wait to see if you contacted him. If you didn’t, no big deal. He’d see you on Monday at school. Izuku very deliberately placed his phone face down on his bedside table. Deciding to go for a jog to get his mind off it, he began to change into his workout clothes.

Not two minutes later, his phone buzzed. Halfway into his gym shorts, Izuku scrambled back to the table, tripping over his own feet and hitting his head squarely on the bed frame.

“Shit!” He hissed, rubbing his forehead.

“Izuku?” His mother called. “Is everything all right in there?”

“Yeah, I just tripped. I’m okay.” He replied, feeling around for his phone with the hand not cradling his head. Much to Izuku’s disappointment, the text wasn’t from you.

Much to his surprise though, it was from Iida.

Iida: Is (L/N) afraid of me?

“Uh oh,” He murmured, fingers already flying across the keypad.

Izuku: wdym? Did something happen during your date?

Iida: Kind of? It went well, but (L/N) seemed really nervous.

Izuku: And you weren’t? Lol, it’s your first date

Iida: Well, yes of course I was nervous. (L/N) seems more nervous then would be ordinary in that situation, though.

Izuku: What exactly did they do?

Iida: They were very overly jittery. They looked apprehensive and guilty whenever we talked. At one point I put my hand on their arm and they flinched.

“Oh shit,” Izuku whispered. Iida wasn’t done, though.

Iida: The night ended well enough, I suppose. They seemed to have a good time, it just looked like they were too frightened to enjoy it to the full extent, though.

Izuku: You didn’t do anything weird, did you?

Iida: Weird how? All I did was talk to them. I offered to pay for their food, but they declined. I touched their arm, but once they flinched away I didn’t try again. We walked back to the train station together, and I offered to accompany them home, but they shot me down again.

Izuku sighed, rubbing his throbbing temples. It was a delicate situation. It wasn’t really Izuku’s place to tell Iida your business. So how was he going to tell Iida that you had relationship trauma without actually telling him?

Izuku: Ok, I don’t think you did anything wrong. (Y/N) gets nervous at the idea of dating, but I promise it’s not you. They’ve had bad experiences with dating, but they seem to really like you and want to try again.

Izuku: (Y/N)’s story isn’t mine to tell. If they feel comfortable giving you all the details, then they will. All you need to know for now is that their anxiety isn’t your fault. It also doesn’t mean that they don’t like you because I don’t think I’ve ever seen them as happy with someone as they are with you

Iida: I see. Their behavior makes a little more sense now. Thank you for telling me, Midoriya. I’d like to have a relationship with them, so on Monday I’ll talk to them and see if there’s anything I can do or stop doing to make them more comfortable. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am when I’m with them either, in all honesty. I would hate to loose them over a misunderstanding.

Izuku chuckled, smiling warmly at his device. “What was I ever worried about?”

#mha #bnha #iida #tenya #tenya iida #iida x reader #tenya x reader #tenya iida x reader #deku #izuku #midoriya #izuku midoriya #deku x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader

125 notes · View notes

enhyupn · 4 years ago

Text

[6:38] boyfriend!heeseung 𓏲𓏸𓈒ᵕ̈

paring: heeseung x gn!reader

summary: in which your boyfriend tries to convince you he can read your mind. but you, having fun with this, just ended up teasing him.

genre: fluff, light swearing (?), heeseung just wants attention in all honesty

word count: 1k+

a/n this was in my drafts for a while and even though i don’t completely love this i hope you enjoy it a tiny bit!

“no y/n listen to me!” your boyfriend looked incredibly distressed at that moment. however, not for the reasons you would usually think. “i can definitely read your mind!”. you laugh loudly, not taking the boy seriously at all. you felt your stomach tighten due to the fact you were laughing so much.

the whole situation had started when you two played rock, paper, scissors to see who would get out of bed first and make dinner. obviously, considering how competitive the both of you were, the two of you took this simple game very seriously. from the way the rules were laid by you two meant the first to five wins, it had started out like aways.

“paper” you held your hand flat out.

“scissors”

“no fair hee, you didn’t say it at shoot”

“it’s not my fault you’re a sore loser. plus you’re in lead anyways, one more to five” he bitterly let out.

it was until the two of you kept drawing was when heeseung had his suspicions raised. the fact you two kept getting rock at the same time three times, scissors together two times and paper at least four times (yes he counted) meant that one out of you two could do the unthinkable.

“y/n are you reading my mind?”

“ex— excuse me?” a hearty laugh came out of your mouth causing you to trip on your words, suddenly shutting up after seeing the serious look on heeseung’s face. “ummm, no why”.

“if it’s not you...” he looked at you in concern before looking away to think deeper about this situation. “then it’s me? am i reading your mind?”.

“hee what are you talking about...” another laugh coming out of your mouth, in disbelief at the words that had just came out of your boyfriend. “this is so funny please give me a second” you bent your back down in exhaustion from the heavy amounts of laughter you just did.

“no...” a realisation suddenly hitting him, “what if i’m doing it without knowing?”. he brings his hand to his mouth, covering it with his eyes wide open in shock. “no, y/n listen to me!”.

“i’m listening—”

“no... no wait i can guess what you’re thinking now” he interrupted you. you raise your eyebrow at him before clearing your throat.

“okay what number am i thinking about then?” funnily enough you weren’t thinking of a number. the voice in your head repeating the alphabet over and over again just to make sure if he did read your mind, you’d throw him off his track.

“give me a second” he shuts his eyes to concentrate more. what he least expected was for you move you body closer to him, completely making him forget his original plan. “are you distracting me from this?” he opens his eyes when he realised you were suddenly latched onto his arm.

“no but yes, it’s not on purpose though” you close your eyes as you placed your head onto his shoulder. “i thought about something different last minute, it’s not a number”. if you were being honest, as much as you love heeseung you couldn’t let this conversation go on for any longer unless you wanted to bust a lung.

“it’s not?” his face warped into a confused expression.

“yes” you open your eyes. sitting up straight you look into his eyes. having too much fun teasing heeseung, you blurted out “i can read your mind hee, do you wanna know what you’re thinking”. he narrows his eyes at you before moving to the side to look at you in the eyes.

“i actually know what i’m thinking right now” he corrects you, a fresh smile spread across his face. “but hit me with it”.

“you want to...” you pretend to think by placing your finger on your chin. the action making heeseung chuckle before lightly shaking your shoulders in hopes you’d fulfil your statement. “you wanna make dinner”.

“liar” he scoffed, turning his head away from you in disbelief. you lightly hit his shoulder at his gesture, finding humour in his bewilderment. “i definitely did not think that”.

“no, you most definitely did” you laughed between your words. “want me to try again?” a smirk playfully set on your lips.

“only if you believe me when i say i can read your mind”

“that’s it?” you raised your eyebrow in suspicion. “then... i believe you, what am i thinking of?”. you tilted your head in anticipation for his answer.

“hmmm let me see” he paused. you watched as his eyes looked around the room, most likely just delaying his answer to figure out what to say next. “i bet you were thinking about me”.

“you?” the chuckle left your mouth, “yes i was thinking of my amazing boyfriend, who can one hundred percent read my mind” your words were dripping with sarcasm, something heeseung could thankfully catch onto.

“see i’m right” he teased, wrapping his arms around you to bring you into a tight embrace.

“you’re so cheesy” you mutter happily as you felt the both of you recline back into your bed.

turning your head you stared at his features, smiling to yourself happily as you trained your eyes on his lips.

“hey, hee?” you bring your hands closer to his face, the heat making you more giddy than you originally were.

“yes?” his eyes staring back at yours, the look of endearment on his face completely matched yours.

“rock, paper, scissors shoot” out of nowhere the both of you brought your hands out into a fist, shaking it to the rhythm of your words. it was like instinct at this point, the competitive nature of you two shining through.

“rock” you held your fist out with your eyes squeezed.

“scissors” it only took one word from heeseung’s mouth to make you spring out of bed in delight. you were the winner of that evening’s rock, paper, scissors game.

“you can’t just spring that onto me!” he laughed as he got out of the bed, not feeling as serious as his words would make you think. you stuck your tongue out in response playfully.

“you’re just a sore loser” you repeated his words from earlier that hour. your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your mimicking words playfully, all while making his way to the door.

“whatever” he mutters while opening the door. turning his head to you, he tilts his head. “you want ramen right?”.

“yeah!” you beamed at him.

“i’m making it extra spicy” he calls out, one step out of the room already. you roll his eyes at his pettiness before looking down at your bed sheets laughing to yourself as you looked back upon the past twenty minutes.

“read my mind” you joke quietly to yourself. “yeah right”.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen timestamps #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff

193 notes · View notes

batarella · 4 years ago

Text

3 birds 1 stone - BLUE

From a world once so cruel, that never seemed to have granted them the time enough to be together, it’d never built up into anything more perfect.

WORDS: 7785 WARNINGS: Sexual Content

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | RED | YELLOW

-----

Dick:

It was concerning how at the moment he stepped into the narrow elevator, he wasn’t the least bit surprised at the pile of animal shit at the corner. It wasn’t until the doors closed when he noticed it, or rather his nose did, and he had to clog his nostrils just so he doesn’t pass out on the floor.

“Gar!?” he yelled just as the doors opened. No one was there, save for Raven with a book sitting at the couch. She didn’t glance at him. “Gar, I swear if you took a shit in the elevato-“

“That wasn’t me!”

Gar’s voice came from the kitchen, panting and occupied with something unruly. Then he heard plates falling to the floor, breaking, then there was a whimper. Not one that came from a human.

“Then who was it!?”

His question was soon answered, when a dog, a brown-furred mutt, sprinted out into the living room with a strip of bacon lodged in its teeth. “Gar!”

“I told you!”

Gar came out of the kitchen with a leash that had been ripped. “It wasn’t me!”

“You brought a dog into the tower?!”

“It was hungry!”

The mutt had finished off the bacon and headed straight for Raven��s lap. She gave it a scratch under its ear.

“Not on the couch,” Dick said.

“But Dick-“

“You’re not allowed on the couch either,” he told Gar. The boy murmured something Dick couldn’t hear, and after a second, no longer was he a boy but a green parrot. It squealed against Dick’s ear before it flew to Raven’s book.

“Jesus-“ he rubbed his ear. “I’m not in the mood.”

“SQUAWK-,” the parrot said. “WHAT’S UP WITH YOU?”

Having some coherent answer to that would only cement it as some grueling reminder. Hell, even thinking about it hurts more than the coward’s way out of pretending the past year never even happened. But then again, here he was, back in the Titan’s Tower to escape from the love of his life he could never be with and force himself into this infernal damnation of having forever to get over her. Here. Thousands of miles away. Where he’d only have his thoughts to battle and nothing else.

But all he said was: “Nothing.”

Dick should have told her, at least. Given her that kind of closure instead of his current disappearing act without so much as a note or a text or even a notice memo at the manor’s announcement board, which Alfred insisted with there being eight kids around.

But being away will be good. For her. For him. The first step to moving on. And with that, cutting all ties. Make it hurt less for both of them.

Maybe not all ties. He’ll have to go back to Gotham soon enough. But at least he was trying something. Not like the past five, six, seven years. God, has it really been that long?

She was probably over at Tim’s office, or Jason’s apartment doing whatever. Thinking about it won't do him any good. Doesn’t mean he subconsciously won’t.

It was apparent, and out into full consciousness, when he pulled out his phone and saw her name in five missed calls, with voice messages she’s left behind. A whole lot of minutes of them, too, it seems. She’d called while he was on the plane.

He could listen to them. Hear her voice one last time. Let his mind trail away. God, he was pathetic.

Dick put it up to his ear, his other hand stuffed to his pockets as he went out to the tower’s highest balcony so at least the air wasn’t so stuffy and he wouldn’t choke so much.

He wasn’t even nervous when he heard her speak. “Hey, Dick.”

A plane. A helicopter. Some folks over at the apartment building nearby partying it out. At least he’d have something to look at. He was exhausted, too. It was eight am over at Gotham. Shouldn’t have taken the overnight flight.

“You weren’t at the manor. I tried calling there first. I wanted to see you. Call me when you get this?”

He might. After he listens to the four other messages she’d left behind.

“Hey. I know it’s only been an hour. But please call me.”

Another one.

“Dick, where are you? I hope you didn’t change your phone. or I’ll look stupid leaving all these messages behind, which I’m not about to stop doing. Call me. Please. No one knows where you are but no one’s panicking either. It’s worrying me.”

Next one. From another hour after. He’d been gone a little over ten hours since he left. If Bruce didn’t have a tracker on him, they’d have called the police by now. But he highly doubted Bruce would take the time to announce his little trip to the West Coast to everyone in the house.

“Dick, if this is you ignoring me, you’re doing a hell of a good job at it. Did I do something?”

He heard her huff over the phone. No one else seemed to be around her.

“Please, I just wanna talk. Call me.”

The last one. Sent just four hours ago, which meant she’d been awake at four in the morning.

And, on top of that, the last one was five whole minutes long.

A call to tell her she was dating Tim again? Explaining how there are no hard feelings? Catch a movie sometime? An ass of him to think she’d be that cruel, but he was jetlagged and exhausted and the smell of dog shit still hadn’t left, which could be explained because that mutt had made a home just a few feet away from where he stood.

Dick played the message despite all that. Even if she called to tell him she’s getting married. He’d answer it.

“Dick…”

He could hear the rain, sheets shuffling under her feet.

“I’m sorry…” she said. “I… I probably took too long… I guess, if you’re ignoring me, you still deserve to know. I hope you get this message. I’ll tell you now, I guess. So you won't have to respond if you don’t want to.”

Tears. He could hear her wipe them off her skin.

“I kept you waiting for… I wanna say months but it’s a lot longer than that. Years… God, and I didn’t even see it… I took too long trying to figure this all out for myself, and you just kept waiting for me. No one should be worth waiting for that long.”

He was laughing as if it were one of her god-awful jokes. Funnily enough, it was worth it. Even when it sent him nowhere in the end. All that waiting was worth it. Somehow.

“Which is why I don’t blame you. Because you shouldn’t have taken this long. I thought even if I took another few weeks before I’d have enough courage to finally ask you to be mine, you’d still be there waiting for me. Selfish as it is, but I guess that’s your fault, too. Spoiling me and whatnot. Now my expectations for men are out of hand. Sorry.”

She even fucking laughed all the while he could hear her biting back her sobs. If he were there, he’d hold her by the shoulders and squeeze the fucking sense back into her and tell her yes, I did wait for you, and I’d wait for you for a hundred more years if I had to but I know you love someone else and-

Wait.

Backtrack.

What the hell did she just say!?

“I mean, I’m…” she continued, completely ignoring his panic. Was there a rewind on this thing??? “The past two days all I did was read your letter. Over and over again, trying to find something I could have missed. I memorized it by now. I’m a wreck. I’m sorry. I know it’s all so complicated, but I can't stop thinking that if the timing had just been good to us the past few years, all this would have been so different.”

Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT, is she actually saying she-

“I’m so sorry, Dick…” she sighed. “I kept you waiting. But even if… even if you’re not anymore, I already made up my mind. I’ll be here. It’s my turn to wait for you. As long as it takes. I love yo-“

Something hit the back of his knees.

Which, unfortunately, with him not in some defensive stance, caught him in a rather vulnerable position.

And with that, Dick tumbled off his feet, almost fell off the railing, and failed to catch his phone from slipping right off his hands.

“NO!”

“DOWN BOY-SQUAWK!” Gar the parrot cried and followed the obnoxiously unruly dog running around the terrace. “SORRY, DICK!”

The dog kept running around and almost crashed to his feet twice with it being too fast even for Gar's supposedly swift wings, and if he wasn’t so frozen and horrified, watching his phone descend from almost a hundred stories above ground, he would have grabbed that mutt by the neck.

“GAR, I SWEAR TO GOD-“

“I’m sorry!” He turned back into a human and caught the dog. “It was him!”

“My fucking phone just fell over the railing!”

“Want me to go get it-“

A car alarm. He could hear it even from above. Or Gar did. Because he went to look over and caught sight of his phone breaking a car’s windshield below. He scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“I have to…” Dick pulled on his scalp. “I have to go call her.”

“Call who?!”

“Give me your phone!”

“I don’t have a phone!”

“Give me Raven’s phone!”

“She talks to people with her mind,” Gar twirled his finger against his temple. “She doesn’t need a phone!”

“Just get- UGH!”

He stormed back into the building. “Where the hell is everyone else!?”

“They’re all out of town!”

“So it’s just you and Raven in here?! Without adult supervision!?”

“Why do you think we got a dog into the building?!”

Said dog stuck his tongue out at him like it was just so awfully adorable.

“Ok, ok, ok, ok, ok.” He can do this. He can calm down. “I have to go back. Or call her at least.”

“You’re going back to Gotham now?!”

She said she’ll wait. But to hell with keeping her waiting. “Yes. I do. I’m going back now. As soon as I can call her and tell her I’m on my way-“

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Raven didn’t even look up from her book, legs up on the couch as seemingly relaxed as if the whole wreck of a home they lived in wasn’t a mess at all.

“Next flight to Gotham’s in an hour.” She levitated an apple to her mouth and took a bite. “And the one after that’s in two days.”

“Two days!?”

“Airline shutdown. Some strike is happening,” she pointed at the TV playing the news. “I’d hurry if I were you.”

“God fucking dammit-“

“Good luck.” Raven took another bite.

Of course. Of course, this would fucking happen.

But, fuck, he didn’t know if he should just leap out the window to keep up now that everything he’s ever wished for had finally come to be. Because, to his own beliefs up in the clouds, he could probably fly with just the flap of his measly arms.

Y/N chose him.

He left for the elevator, just before Gar stopped him for leaving his wallet, then he was sprinting his way back to the airport.

You:

“I already made up my mind,” you said to your phone as if there were anyone else on the other line. As if he was there, listening to you. And that in a few seconds, he’d respond.

“I’ll be here. It’s my turn to wait for you. As long as it takes. I love you, Dick.”

Quite haunting how easy it was for those words to just roll off your lips, because as much as you thought all this to be so complicated and difficult, it was the easiest thing you’ve ever had to say.

At four am, alone in your studio with all your lights off and your sheets in an unkempt mess. You stuck your knees so close to your chest, trying to conceal at least some kind of warmth against you. But even with it so easy, it didn’t mean it wasn’t hurting.

“I can't,” you stuck your palm to your forehead. “I know things are so hard between us… and this past year is just…”

You breathed, longer than you’d hoped, just to get enough air into your lungs just so you wouldn’t collapse.

“God, I don’t even know what to tell you anymore. It all just… It feels like it’s too late. Everything went so wrong between us and I can't stop but think maybe it’s the world saying we’re just not meant to be,” you swallowed. “And the scary thing is… I don’t even care.”

The blue rose you painted, staring back at you once so bright, but as the passing days of you still wondering if were brave enough to do this at all, it had dried up and was now blank, patronizing even, that maybe it just wasn’t right, even when you wanted it to be.

“I don’t care if it’s so complicated, I want you…”

On the bed, just by your feet, you locked your eyes onto Dick’s beautiful handwriting, some that had been smudged with the sweat from your hands with the paper now crumpled up after all those months of reading and rereading.

You closed your eyes.

“You sent me an awfully painful, heart-breaking letter,” you said. “This is my awfully painful, heart-breaking reply.”

‘I usually just say all this in my head. That’s when I get poetic. Sometimes I write it down. Most of the time, I try to paint them. I think of galaxies and meadows and skies and flowers and all that, metaphors as they are, but I’ll say everything I’ve got. Right now. Because you deserve to know that all those years of you thinking nothing could ever go how you wanted, that it could end being just that.

Dick:

“Hey.”

Hands on the counter, the attendant looked startled at the least.

“I need a ticket for the next flight to Gotham.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, after taking a while to look at Dick’s handsome yet frantically uneasy face. “You just missed it-“

“I know, I know, I missed the last one.” The one that left just five minutes ago because of fucking California traffic. “But I need to get on the next one. Please.”

“All flights from San Francisco after the next hour are canceled I’m afraid.”

“Any connecting flights? Anything that leaves before that?”

“Sir, I-” she stretched her fingers. “I’ll look for something.”

His fingers, tapping onto the counter until the tip of his nails started to hurt.

“The best option’s a connecting flight to Denver, then to New York.”

“New York!?”

“Then there’s the railway transits to Gotham. I can book you a ticket for that, too.”

From a seven-hour flight to a seventeen-hour trip with layovers and a crowded train.

But as soon as he heard best option he pulled out his wallet quicker than when they told him his rent was three months overdue and that if he weren’t to pay the doorman that very instant they’d evict him.

He rushed to the first plane, closed his eyes, and prayed she hadn’t said anything in her voice message too important for him to miss out on.

‘The universe, or whatever it is out there that has a say in all this, they didn’t make it easy for us at all. If they did, we would have met long before we went too far into this mess. We were friends, sure, and you have no idea how much I value our friendship.

But I guess not even that friendship’s strong enough for us to deny what’s really going on. And that’s why it’s all so hard. I can't even look at you without thinking about kissing you, or holding you, or touching you. I can't hold your hand without wanting to never pull away. I can't even be in the same room with you and not stare, even when you’re just reading a book or talking to someone else. You are… you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and you’re just as beautiful within, which is why it was so easy to love you, and so hard to keep it in.’

You:

Morning. Eleven am at that. You slept before the sun was up, at least. But you were up all night.

Nothing. Not a call, not even a text from him.

Everything shattered, and you were still half asleep. The next thing you did, and the next thing to do, was wrap yourself up with the thickest layer of your blanket and hide in the dark, even with it such a lovely day.

Another message wouldn’t be such a good idea if he still hadn’t opened the last five, which seemed highly unlikely with him gone for almost a day now.

A day. It had been a day.

But nothing on GCPD’s notices reported a missing person’s file of an utterly gorgeous, half-Romani hunk of a man in any of their websites. You called the manor, again. Still, there was nothing.

Twelve at noon. All you had for lunch was a bagel from three nights ago. It stuffed you, at least.

You sat at your dining table and stared at your phone.

If there was a moment for so much love to come crashing at once, it would all have been too great for that to be possible.

But the moment you realized it was there at all,

A few weeks ago. Steph’s birthday.

A party at the manor. It wasn’t much. Just a little get together with everyone at the parlor.

Everyone was talking, laughing, and frankly you wished you’d joined them. It looked like fun.

But instead, you were looking out the window, at the gardens white with melted snow and winds strong enough to knock the leaves out the branches. But you couldn’t hear any of that, which made it peaceful. It was the trees that danced, birds instead of planes that hovered over the sky, not a star above but perhaps it was because it was so full of clouds. It looked cold. Cold always looked so beautiful when you were looking out from the warmth of the inside.

Dick walked up to your side, just a reasonable distance away so he wouldn’t touch your shoulder, but close enough that you’d smell the jasmine from his neck.

“You’re just gonna stand out here and watch the glass fog up?”

You remembered laughing, probably at something else he’d said after that.

“It’s pretty when you look hard enough.”

And all the while, he didn’t pull your arm and drag you over at the crowd. He didn’t tell you to join them, to loosen up and have fun or have a drink or in any way stop you from what you were doing.

He just stood there and joined you, instead. Ditched his family. Didn’t even speak much.

He stood there because he wanted to. Because you staring out the window was more interesting to him than a whole crowd of kids doing whatever.

When he balled up his fist, covered it with his sleeve, and wiped the window right in front of you to rid it from the fog so you could see the gardens clearer, you knew you loved him.

Such a small act that was, but it was the finality of everything else that built up to that moment.

Then, you remembered what you told him last night, in a voice message that lasted way too long and sounded far too painful.

‘I don’t regret what I had with Tim… but I do regret not saying anything the past four years when I had the chance. You were there. You were there and I could never have had it any other way. When we’re not trying so hard for everything to be alright, everything’s at its best. I’m not even your girlfriend, and already I think about every minute I spend with you and laugh before I’m off to bed. I think about your jokes way too long than they should ever last. And your smile, god your smile, saying that that it’s all I could ever think about wouldn’t do it any justice. You have drawn out the ugliest laugh out of me that never should have come out of any human in existence. And frankly, I’m glad you do. Because just when I thought I could never smile again, you made me the happiest I could ever be.’

Dick:

Of all days. Of all times.

His survival rate at that point, rushing through Denver Airport with just a fifteen-minute layover period, with his shoelaces undone, probably wasn’t one he should have relied on. He was starving, but he had the appetite of a mammal in hibernation with the horrible airplane food costing a hundred dollars and everything else taking too long to prepare.

With just thirty seconds to spare, he fell to his too-narrow coach seat, shuffled along so his large ass-damn this cursed asset-would fit through the aisle and breathed just as the air hissed into the cabin after they closed the service door.

Head against the back of the seat, eyes up the ceiling, at the smoke that blew in through that gap outside the overhead locker, he ignored his dried skin, his dry mouth, his feet that were close to standing on a thousand knife tips, his eyes so close to just shutting out, his wallet painfully thin with this whole trip costing the equivalent of a round trip to Shanghai, and his whole body about to collapse. He hasn’t slept in twenty-four hours. It didn’t look like he was ever going to sleep at all.

And he hasn’t even called. God, what was she doing at home? Is she okay? Is she eating okay? Is she worried about him, staring at her phone wondering what she did wrong when she was nothing less of a perfect creation of all the gods that existed, an angel the earth didn’t deserve?

He really, really had to call.

Someone just sat next to him. A child. And next to him was his mother, who just put down her phone from a call.

“Excuse me.” Dick put on his award-winning smile, pretended he wasn’t sweating his balls off or that he was in any way close to psychological death, and hoped he looked the part as well.

“Yes?”

“Is it okay if I, uh, borrow your phone? I have to make a call. It’s sort of an emergency.”

“The plane’s about to take off.”

“It won't take long. I promise.”

He probably didn’t look as charming as he’d hoped. His hair was a mess not even a bird would settle into. The woman looked at him quizzically, up and down, and shrugged. Like it was handed to him on a silver plater, she gave him her phone.

The aircraft was about to take off. He only had so long.

He called Y/N’s number that he didn’t even know he memorized and settled back. It started ringing.

“MOM!”

The kid beside him. He was tugging on his mother’s shirt.

“MOM, I’M BORED.”

“We’re in a plane,-“

“I’M BORED. I WANNA PLAY ROBLOX-“

“Not now, we’re in a plane. Sit down.”

“GIVE ME YOUR PHONE-“

“That man has my phone.”

Fuck.

Y/N, fucking pick up.

“HEY, GIVE ME MY MOM’S PHONE BACK-“

“Kid, I hear ya. But you have to give me this one-“

“GIVE ME THE PHONE-“

That kid, a chubby one not older than six, stood up from his chair and was wild enough to grab Dick’s hand away from holding the phone up his ear. If he weren’t so desperate, he would have let him have it.

But god almighty, he’s never been as desperate as a starving man in a desert.

“Kid. Just one minute.”

“NO, GIVE ME!”

The mother put on a sleeping mask and faced the other way.

“KID-“

“GIVE ME MY PHONE-“

Back and forth, both grabbing onto the phone and the kid having the strength he did not at all expect, they ended up wrestling it out in the cramped-up economy seats until the kid was screaming out his ears.

He’s never looked so ridiculous but jokes on everyone else if they thought he could care less.

“Excuse me.”

An attendant, bags under her eyes and giving both of them, not just the kid, a dirty look.

“I’m sorry, sir, but the other passengers have complained about the noise. I’m gonna have to ask you to take your seat.”

“NO!” the kid screamed.

“DID YOU JUST BITE ME!?” Dick cried out.

“GIVE ME THE PHONE!”

“I NEED TO CALL SOMEONE!”

Dick grabbed the phone off his hands, palm to the kid’s face to stop him from reaching out to his outstretched arm. “Don’t you have some kind of coloring book you can give him?”

The attendant smiled, albeit forcefully, and walked back over to the back of the cabin. The kid did not stop trying to grab it off Dick’s arm.

She gave the kid a bag that probably had books and crayons and whatever stuffed inside. It looked so old. It had to have been in storage for the past ten years.

But as if some miracle heard him, the kid shut up, took the bag, and settled on his seat. Then he was as quiet as a mouse.

Fucking finally.

He held the phone up his ear and closed his eyes, fingers easing the tension on the nerve on his forehead.

“And sir?”

The attendant smiled at him. It didn’t look so much of a smile as it was a death threat.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to turn off your mobile device.”

To say he wanted to squeeze the life out of everyone in the whole aircraft, including himself, wouldn’t cut it.

And he didn’t even have it in him to protest.

“Hello?”

Her voice. At the other end of the line. That word was all there is to it, the only thing he heard.

Dick sighed, closed his eyes, counted to three, then ended the call after just two seconds.

The next thing he heard, for the next three hours, would be the screams of the child at his side, kicking on his seat like a fucking soccer ball.

‘That call from a year ago. The one about Kori. Fuck, I don’t even know where to begin. I overreacted. By a mile. Did some stupid shit to make up for that guilt and masked it over as another heartbreak when really, it was me refusing to have to go through all that again. I had to see you with that woman when I was in love with you for three years. Of course, it hurt. But I shouldn’t have an excuse. It was so stupid. Just thinking about it makes me want to break. I’m so sorry about that, Dick. I know we’ve already been over that months ago, but I just want to clear everything while I still can. God, I don’t even know if you’d listen to all this. I’m rambling. I’m sorry. I put all the blame on you when I had my share of mistakes. A whole lot of them. I’m sorry. I love you. And I’m sorry.’

You:

Hung up after two seconds. All you heard on the other end of the line was breathing and huffing, and nothing else. Whoever it was, they’ve been calling the past two minutes, just as you stepped out of the shower. And you almost cracked a rib flying from your bathroom to your kitchen table with just a towel around you, hoping to see his name on the screen. But alas, your luck just wasn’t at its peak.

You put your phone down, still with nothing to do, nothing else you could think of doing, than to just wait on that seat, stare at your phone, and hope Dick hadn’t hurt himself going after some goon alone the night before. Still no missing persons report. Nothing from the rest of the team, either.

Maybe just once more. You could call him. It wouldn’t annoy him too much. It had been hours since the last one.

You called, put the phone up your ear.

No ringing. It went straight to voice mail.

You opened your mouth, thinking you had something to say.

But you didn’t have anything to say. Not anymore. Not after you poured your whole heart out on the last one and now your throat was as dry as your palms were sweating.

You put your phone down, facing away from you, then you sank to your arms, burying your crumbling face away even with no one to see you.

‘That’s why I hate myself for not caring if this was difficult. Because I know, somehow, that’s it’s all still gonna be worth it. With you. Just thinking about the things we’d do, you’ve been the light of my life, the one person I look for not just because I need it, but because being with you makes so much of my day, every day that I see you. I look for you in crowds. I turn to your face when I want to look at something pleasant. I stare at doors, constantly hoping you’d be the one to walk in. I seek out for your voice, call you even when I know it’s a bother, find the most ridiculous excuses and the most stupid questions just so I’d have a reason to stand close to you, to have you talking to me, wanting all that everyday. I’ve never met anyone like you, Dick. I’ll never get used to you, and there’s no way in hell that I’d ever get tired of you. And maybe that’s the price to pay with all this being so hard. As complicated as it is, the troubles aren’t half the worth of the happiness it comes with.’

Two flights, three within the past thirty hours, jet-lagged far beyond a night’s repair, and his stomach in so many knots that even the bag of peanuts from the plane was too much to digest. And it wasn’t from poisoning or hunger or whatever it was. Everything in a whirlwind, one he can't even track.

He got to New York before it was dark, and he wanted to kiss the floor.

But he wasn’t at Gotham yet. This trip wasn’t over.

And if it weren’t for the half a million people crowded over at the airport, he would have been in Gotham right at that second.

Past the crowd, fumbling and running for whatever life he had left that wasn’t a spirit descended into something infinitely better than this, he made it over to the other side of the terminal, with his pits sweating his shirt off and his legs made of cooked chicken drumsticks and dough.

He got to the railway station, over at the attendant behind the counter.

“Excuse me,” he panted, and just like the one at the San Francisco airport, it startled her. Except now, there was no using his charm or his looks when he looked like he crawled out of a swamp.

“To Gotham,” he said.

“Ticket?”

He reached for his wallet, hands shaking so horribly it was worrying if he hadn’t known it came with his mind being as much of a mess as a wrecked ship from the 1800s.

And all the more did they tremble, down to his sorry knees, when he opened every flap there was on his wallet to find every pocket empty.

No.

No. no. no. no. no.

He searched his pockets. His jacket. His pants. His fucking shoes. If he had a hat he’d probably look into that too.

Nothing. Not a stub. A tiny stub that would have easily been blown by so much as a gust from a fan, let alone running a marathon in three airports in a single day.

“I,” he swallowed. “I seemed to have lost my ticket.”

Yeah. He wasn’t getting out of this one. The attendant looked at him and snarled like the annoyance he was.

“All the trains are sold out. And I’m afraid you can't board the train without a ticket.”

“Ma’am, I really, really, have to get to Gotham-“

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to step out of the line.”

Like every force in the universe was out to get him.

“Do you have a phone? A payphone at least? I really need to call someone-“

“Sir, please step out of the line.”

“Please, ma’am, there has to be some way you can squeeze me into one of those trains-“

The attendant waved at someone behind him.

Two security guards were at his side before he could even turn around.

“Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” he huffed. “You guys don’t happen to have a phone I could use?”

Both guards ignored him, set him aside against a pillar.

And, with the excruciating exhaustion finally crashing into this one blow to the face, he stuck his back against the column, head up to the ceiling, then fell on his ass.

God, what does he even say to her after this?

If he actually gets to talk to her, that is.

“Final call for boarding!”

That light. One, single light. Or two, if he focused his eyes. The headlights from outside the revolving doors, from a bus that just opened its doors. It was a light, because it had GOTHAM in bold letters pasted onto its windshield.

And a line of people stepping inside. Kids and adults, old people alike.

He sat up from the floor, hungry, tired, and in pain.

But this was all going to be worth it. Every minute of this.

He just knew, that one last push, after this tormenting, inferno of a day, would all come to an end he’d dreamed about since he first laid eyes on her that day at the Wayne Manor’s library.

Dick got in line outside the bus, told the conductor he’d pay when they get inside. And after he did, he had just a quarter in his wallet to spare. No one sat beside him. The others were at the back. The one across was fast asleep. He couldn’t call her.

He’ll just have to hope, that whatever worries she had waiting for him to come up, that she’d forgive him enough for all this to end the way he hoped it would.

Three hours on a bus.

Didn’t even sound like it was remotely a long time.

The moment he took his seat, the bus doors hissed closed, and the air so silent, so did everything else calm.

He’s waited so long.

But he just had to wait for another three hours. In a bus. Then he’ll see her.

He closed his eyes.

‘I don’t even know why I rambled so much about all this being so complicated.

Because even if I had to walk up to the sky, I know there’s a galaxy waiting for me at the end. You are worth it. You are worth everything. I’ve never been so obsessed with anyone my whole life. You are, with my whole heart, my greatest love. And you are so beautiful that I never want to look at anything else ever again. And I never thought I’d get know beauty the way I do when I talk to you. You are everything I could ever want. And so much more.

And that pain, that hurt we both had to go through after all those years. That pining and waiting, and the heartbreak just because I was too stupid to understand that it didn’t have to be so hard after all, it doesn’t even matter, when at the end, I get to be with you.

I’d go through all that again if it means I can be with you.

You are the man I’ve dreamt about since I could first dream, and I’m lucky enough to have you in my reality. It’s you I want, Dick.

So I’ll wait for you. As long as I have to.

I love you so much.

Please, for the love of God, call me.’

You:

That message.

The longer you stared at your phone, the more you wondered if it was the right thing to do at all.

It was four am. You were tired. And worried.

And it was four am now, a whole day after.

Not a single call.

You’ve done it this time. You tripped at the finish line.

You were selfish enough to keep that man waiting for so long hoping he’d keep going, just as he had been for years.

And now, this is what you get.

You have yourself alone, in your apartment, one you haven’t cleaned in a week, and your heart in the same shatters as it often had been.

Your phone rang. You weren’t so excited to pick it up. Rightfully so when you saw it was just Bruce.

“Hello?” you said, your weight against the table’s surface, also surprised that it hadn’t broken.

“Y/N,” Bruce said. “I heard you were looking for Dick.”

“Mhm?”

“Sorry I haven’t called. Anyways, the last location I can point him to was at the Titans Tower in San Francisco.”

Okay.

You’ve had your heart broken before.

But it wasn’t just that that had broken right then.

Everything else, every bone, every bit of flesh there was, it was this numbing buzz you couldn’t even fight.

“What?”

Just then, someone knocked on your door.

And it wasn’t just a knock. They were pounding against the wood.

The ringing in your ears hadn’t even subsided, and you were breathless, muscles stiff. You just let the pounding go on until you heard Bruce hang up on the other line.

Life didn’t even give you so much as a second to process all that, of what he could be doing there, who he was with.

Your walked to the door, and without looking into the eyehole, you unlatched the lock and opened it.

Some glitch there was if all this were nothing but a simulation.

But it was as if the last five minutes-no-the last two days hadn’t happened at all.

Dick never looked like such a mess.

But, nonetheless, the way you stared at him was as if he was as beautiful as he ever was.

Everything that had broken, the moment you looked into his eyes, had fallen right back into place, into an entity far stronger than any quake could knock it out of.

Dick shut the door behind him.

He grabbed your face.

Then he kissed you. Without words. Without letting so much as a speck of time, however it worked now that it’d stopped, pass and waste away.

Dick:

Whatever she told him in that message he never got to hear, everything she ever had to say, the instant he felt her kiss him back, it was like every word flew out of her lips. How she wanted him. How she chose him. How in love she was with the mess of a human being he could be. How all the trials they’d been forced to go through, all the misunderstandings and the fights and the long months of this troubling, awkward place they wanted nothing more than to climb out of. He got all that with the way her lips molded so wanting and harsh, pressed so hard against his dried, chapped pair that have never witnessed anything more beautiful and so awfully perfect.

No more time to be wasted.

Not another second.

He had her. He finally had her.

He got the girl.

Not a chance that he wasted so much as another second.

He pushed her against the wall and the gasp that came out of her wasn’t at all out of pain, but at the sheer desire that had sparked at such impact that only knocked her into the same place he’d long settled in. And he could just feel, how much she wanted so badly to speak, to tell him what was raging in her head that was as much of a mess as his. But they’ll talk. Eventually. After.

All he wanted, right then, was to have her. Love her. Love her. To send her off to some paradise that long surpassed oceans and mirages and heavens that stood on clouds, to culminate that seemingly endless torture into a reward so great, that to say it would have been worth it would be so much an understatement. To play every instrument there was and let the song resonate into her body, and make it last for the rest of his life for so long as he could touch her. All that, he was going to give her tonight. Tonight. Right then and there.

Grabbing her legs up to his hips, her hands pinned to the wall above her head, it was too much of a flash for him to rush into this beautiful thing that shouldn’t be rushed at all. But he couldn’t slow down if it meant that he lives. Even if he died right after, he just couldn’t hold back.

He was pushing himself into her and the sounds that he earned out his lips were more than any songbird could cry out. After just having her against that wall, he finally got the sense to take it to the bed. It was dark. Not a light was on. And it was raining outside the one window she had near the bed and just the streetlight outside was enough to make him see her face. Dick placed her on top of his lap, on which she enjoyed herself to her own pace. Her hips were like waves, the ocean that rocked about, and the stain on his pants that she’d left behind was just as wet as so.

At that moment even she didn’t want to wait and talk any longer.

He took off her clothes, lied back.

Then he hoisted her up so the sweetest part of her body was just hovering over his mouth, her strong, beautiful legs, one of skin and the other of metal, on either sides of his head.

You:

You were made of gemstones. You were shimmering.

Of diamonds and rubies and emeralds, of the most precious rocks that could be found on every soil on earth.

Everything. That pain. That darkness. All the troubles and hardships, the disputes and every tear you’ve ever had to shed. Gone. Gone when he drew out this wonderful melody of sensations from his sweet, sweet tongue quivering you to every core. You were rocking, shaking, trembling, barely keeping yourself up. Not long after you screamed, and like the skies heard you it screamed back with a thunderous roar.

Then Dick shed his own clothes and moved inside you, rolling your hips with your two bodies now this one, beautiful entity, like you were holding his hand, just as you did right then, as you both ran through the darkness of a cave that has long haunted you, with creatures and bats and ghosts flying about, just to reach the end that was a light so close and so bright, you chased yourselves, chased that very light.

And once you reached it, that blinding, flashing white light that shone with this painful, glorious sting to every bit of your flesh, to say you found that end would be wrong. It wasn’t an end. It was this continuous, tantalizing aroma that would last a lifetime. It was beauty. You felt beauty. And it was in ripples you couldn’t see. A blur you couldn’t comprehend.

You had so much to tell him and ask him about.

But just as that wonderful night showed you, you had the rest of your life to do just that.

Epilogue

Dick:

Life could only ever be so cruel.

But life gives its niceties. Sometimes, to the people so used to it that they take it for granted.

But it’s even more so of a nicety when it’s the people who’ve long deserved it.

Not to say he deserved the world, but it was just that he’d gotten. From a world once so cruel, that never seemed to have granted them the time enough to be together, it’d never built up into anything more perfect.

Watching her from his car’s driver seat, from where he had a perfect view of her looking at the wondrous scenes flash by outside the window. It was even more beautiful, more than ever before, now that he could take just a second off his time from the steering wheel just to kiss her.

Just a little over six months together. Never has there been anything so rewarding in his life. A rainbow, ten of them at least, that filled what was once this depressingly grey sky. He always knew it’d be worth the world. But even he surprised himself.

When they parked the car, got out into this wide, orange field, a farmland just outside of Jersey with a valley at the farthest end, the only thing that battled the brightness of her smile was the sun itself.

“It’s beautiful, Dick.”

Her voice, even more so.

He set up her canvas, all her paint, and her brushes. They found a spot on the grass that was clean enough for them both to sit on. She didn’t use her easel. Instead, they both laid on this plaid red and white sheet over the grassy soil, her using her own knees to hold it up. And Dick sat beside her, watching her as the hours ticked. Without looking away, no longer ashamed when she’d catch him.

Just before the last of the sun had set, he pulled out from his pocket a ring, one with a diamond a shape of a white rose on top.

He got it a week after they got together.

Her face, her lips wide open as she realized what came in front of her, then he asked her to be his. Forever.

She said yes, just as the sun fell.

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | RED | YELLOW

-----

MAIN TAGLIST:

@idkmanicantenglish, @wunderstell, @birdy-bat-writes, @multifandomgirl-us, @icequeen208, @offendedfishnoises, @arkhamtoddler, @elsenthal, @lucy-roo, @loxbbg, @reclusive-chicken-nugget, @l-inkage, @http-cherries, @river9noble, @zphilophobiaz, @annoylinglyaries, @knightfall05x, @hyp-oh-critical, @satan-s-ass, @1-800-starmora, @flowersgirl02, @nahcho, @thatonecroc, @trixie-bb, @daddyissuesmademe, jasonsbitch, @shadowsndaisies @jaybirdbooty @writing2sirvive

SERIES TAGLIST:

@spaceservicestation, @thedeadlythoughts, @vanessafabricius, @pinkforest05

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #tim drake #jason todd #tim drake x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson smut #batboys #batfam #batfamily #3 birds 1 stone #3 birds 1 stone series #batarella #batarella series

226 notes · View notes

wasabito · 4 years ago

Text

had so much fun writing for my baby boy tendou, so here’s my entry for the hqhq sfw server collab! be sure to check out the rest on the masterlist found here! enjoy ✨

words: 3.0k

prompt: “you woke me up at 3am for this?”

synopsis: your neighbor is ridiculous, kind of annoying and little bit on the weird side, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

You had to be the biggest idiot on the planet—an obvious exaggeration, yes, but you were still inclined to believe it was true.

How else could you explain the feeling of being so utterly fed up with one’s actions like this? Were there enough words in the dictionary to describe just how exhausted you were by your own antics, more specifically, your forgetfulness since that’s what had landed you in a world of pain and embarrassment?

The answer was no.

You sat with your back pressed against your front door, head in your hands and chin tucked between your raised knees and chest. At your side was your wallet along with stacks of newspapers, coupons and whatever else had been stuffed in your mailbox, bills probably. Advertisements too. Honestly, it was hard to be happy about a new restaurant opening up down the block when you were currently stuck—locked out of your apartment to be precise.

The landlord of your cheap little complex wasn’t expected to be back for another hour according to the sign posted outside of his office. So until then, you’d remain posted up by your doorstep like some loiterer.

You shifted in place and blew a puff of air from your lips, feeling little pinpricks in your legs. For the fifth time in the last forty-five minutes you felt like kicking yourself, hard.

The sun hung low, nearly touching the distant horizon signifying the end of another day. Even the sky was painted a warm umber, casting dim shadows.

“Locked out, huh?” came a snide, but accented voice.

It took you way longer than necessary to realize that suddenly you weren’t the only person on this floor. God, where was your head at?

A pair of forest green crocs stood before you, complete with a few odd charms and trinkets. A cartoon volleyball, pinned next to a smiley face, a donut and a gaudy “i heart paris” chain dangling from the ankle strap. A person’s shoes could say a lot about who they were...your mother thought so, at least.

Resisting the urge to projectile vomit all over this stranger’s rather questionable taste in footwear, your wary gaze panned upward, glossing over white tube socks and a pair of the longest legs you’ve ever seen on a person—yet another exaggeration. You came face to face with a crooked smile. Curious ruby eyes returned your stare with almost the same amount of scrutiny.

Who the hell was this guy?

Mystery-man easily towered over you, and not only because you were hunched over and sitting. He was tall as hell, all lanky build, gangly arms and legs disguising lithe muscle and a surprisingly sturdy frame. He looked like the i-run-every-morning type; semi-athletic at the very least. His buzzed hair was the color of cinnamon, no that wasn’t right, paprika maybe? Either way, it contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, so much so that you could see the faint blue of the veins in his arms.

“Yoohooo, anybody hooome?” He tilted his head at you.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah, I’m locked out. I forgot my key inside and Mr. Laurent won’t be back until later.”

“Hmm. That sucks...”

“...Um… do I… do I know you or something? You look a little familiar.”

He pinned you with a funny look, before pulling out a set of keys from the back pocket of his shorts.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t~ I mean we are neighbors, after all.” Laughing as if he’d made some sort of joke, he entered his apartment with a twirl and a dramatic wave of his arms.

You stared at his door for a solid minute, only to finally succumb to your urges and facepalm at your own idiocy. Of course he looked familiar, how could he not when he literally lived four feet away.

With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for another hour spent sitting outside your front door. It wasn’t like there was any other place you could go or anyone you could call. The battery icon on your phone blinked red, warning that it was soon to run out of juice. Guess that meant no Among Us or Subway Surfer for you.

Five minutes later, the door next to you opened. It was Mystery-man again, but this time, he sat in front of his door, just like you were. And he did so with a bag of pretzels and a jar of nutella in hand.

“Must be bored out here by yourself.” He crunched on a pretzel before offering you the bag to take some. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya company.”

You weren’t sure why, but there was something about this guy that intrigued you. You half-wondered if it was the funny little curl of his smile, or the wideness of his eyes that made it seem like he was looking at all of you, all at once.

"You must be pretty bored...uh,"

"Satori Tendou, but most people call me Tendou. Miracle boy works just fine too."

"Right... Tendou, as I was saying, you must be incredibly bored to come sit out here with me. You sure you don't have anything important to do?"

Tendou's grinned widened. "Positive! And it costs me nothing to be neighborly, so don't even sweat it."

That was...nice of him?

If sitting outside with you was the way he wanted to spend his late Tuesday afternoon who were you to deny him? And truthfully, you didn't mind the company, at least not really. Provided this guy wasn't some creepy-stalker-weirdo, you were sure there wasn't any harm in getting to know the person who lived one door over.

"So, Tendou, how long have you lived in the area? You don't really look like you're from around here...I could be wrong."

Tendou raised a thin brow at you. "Weeeell, if you're asking about how long I've lived next door, it would be about three maybe four months give or take, but if you're asking how long I've lived in Paris, it would be a year next month. Speaking of, I think Semisemi has a birthday coming up..."

You watched as he pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at the illuminated glass screen. You couldn't help but notice the goofy little anime stickers on his phone case. One in particular caught your attention.

“Is that...Kirara? From Inuyasha??”

“Oho! So, you recognize this?”

Backtracking, you mumble out, “Ah, well…only a little.” Though your face was turned away, the tiny smile on your lips was not hidden from Tendou and he thought you were pretty cute.

Funnily enough, what you had expected to be a rather unnerving and possibly creepy exchange turned out to be anything but. Tendou was incredibly fun to talk to—a bit teasing and a little overwhelming with his superfluous hand movements and gestures. But he was funny and a lot kinder that you would’ve given him credit for.

You learned that he was originally from Japan; it explained his accented French. He had come to Paris right out of high school to study culinary arts in one of the most renowned countries for it. Now he worked as a chocolatier, under the tutelage of a master patisserie in the city, an older man who was both a creative genius and a thorn in Tendou’s side. Tendou spoke of his teacher with equal parts awe and annoyance.

And he got to know you too. How you’d found yourself in Paris, thousands of miles away from home in an effort to rediscover yourself in the city full of rich history and culture.

You didn’t have many friends here, and it truly was a pleasure to make his acquaintance.

Soon, you both heard the telltale sound of jangling keys as your landlord rounded the corner with his clipboard in hand. Once you were able to get your door open, you waved a goodbye to Tendou.

“Thanks for keeping me company, you really didn’t have to.”

“No biggie, it was fun!” He threw a mischievous little grin and a peace-sign over his shoulder and reentered his apartment.

You found yourself wanting to cross paths with him again, and hopefully in better circumstances. But you hadn't known your wishful thinking was soon to manifest as you ambled through grocery store aisles a week later, eyeing down any items with pictures on it.

“Why in the hell is this toilet paper so expensive.” You mumbled.

“So, you complain about the price of toilet paper, but wear sneakers that cost two-thirds our rent.” That voice sounded familiar, and after hearing it for about an hour just days ago, you were a bit surprised you could recognize it so quickly.

Stunned, you looked up to find Satori Tendou, your quirky neighbor with an arm full of pita chips, a milk carton, and baby carrots.

“I never said I made the best choices.” You found yourself smiling despite the previous crease in your brow. “...Dude, get a cart before you drop everything.”

Instead of getting his own, he simply dumped what he had into your cart with a teasing grin. You couldn’t argue with his logic there. Tendou sidled up against you, once again towering over you with a kind of ease that should be criminal. “Need help reading something?”

You wanted to say no. You almost said no. But swallowing your pride, you gave a weak nod. “Yeah, this word right here.” Pointing to the unfamiliar script printed on the label. “What the heck is this?”

“Weeeeell, looks like that brand is scented, ya know, for when ya—”

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence...please.”

You quickly grab what you need and continue on down the aisle with Tendou following closely behind.

Just like when you’d first met him, he made conversation the entire way. By the time you both made it to the cash registers, you’d argued at least three times over french pronunciations and whether cashews were the cousin of peanuts.

And just as last time, he left you with a grin and a peace-sign while you stared after his retreating back, paid groceries in hand.

After an entire day spent baking, you found yourself on Tendou’s doorstep with a tupperware full of baked goodies later the next evening. You had been meaning to thank him for being such a good neighbor to you. It was certainly unexpected, but a welcome gesture nonetheless.

You only had to knock twice before the door was wrenched open and you were greeted with the set of...vanilla? Some pop song played in the background while your neighbor looked at you curiously.

"H-Hey Tendou, I um...I baked you these." You held out the plastic container, hoping he'd simply take it from you without question and you could return to your apartment without somehow embarrassing yourself. "There's a little bit of everything in there, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, macadamia nut—wait you aren't allergic to anything, right?"

"Nooope! Not a thing, thanks neighbor!"

"It was no problem, especially since you've helped me, not once but twice now."

Frowning, you couldn't help but be a little upset with yourself. You'd come to France to prove that you could, in fact, live a normal life outside of your family’s jurisdiction but day by day you were proving to need them more and more.

It was disappointing, to say the least.

"Hmm, what’s with the constipated look on your face. Did the toilet paper not help?” Tendou tilted his head at you with a teasing grin, lips curled at the edges, taunting. You blinked up at him, surprised, and if you were honest, a little annoyed too.

"Hah?!"

"Just thought it was worth a mention, nighty-night~!"

Tendou proceeded to shut the door on you; one hand rested on the frame and the other held on to the cookies. You quickly took a step back lest he chop your entire arm off, ready to trudge off in the direction of your own home but not before sticking your tongue out at him.

Stupid Tendou, always saying stupid shit.

You were on the couch, half asleep when it dawned on you that it had been his own twisted, “Tendou” way of cheering you up.

The rest of the month passed just like that. Occasionally, you would bump into Tendou at the grocery store, or the leasing office, or even the laundromat. And every single time, he’d either make you laugh until your sides hurt or annoyed enough to want to give him a friendly punch. At one point, you two had even exchanged phone numbers, because according to Tendou “it was ridiculous not to have your friends on speedial” which only led to hours spent on Facetime or playing iMessage games.

You knew exchanging numbers would come back to bite you in the ass, it was only a matter of when.

It was clear you weren’t going to any sleep tonight, that was for sure. The incessant buzzing of your cell phone every five minutes was an enemy to your circadian rhythm. You could name on one hand those in your contacts with enough sense to know that you lived in a completely different time zone from them now.

Somehow your neighbor was the very last person you suspected, but it was his contact photo that stared back at you, goofy looking grin and all. You squinted against the brightness of your screen in your otherwise dark bedroom.

you up?

come quick

gotta show ya somethin

come oooon

you're awake, i know you are

It took you less than a minute to shuffle on a pair of slippers, grab your keys (you weren't going to forget them this time) and slip out of your apartment.

You hadn't even knocked twice before the door was pulled open. Tendou looked a mess, more so than usual. Unidentified stains littered the apron looped around his thin waist, streaks of what you hoped were just flour and granulated sugar were all over his hands. You almost wanted to ask if he was baking or dealing dope.

“You woke me up at three in the morning...for this?”

“Yuuup!”

"When I said you could call me at any time, I really didn’t mean any time.” You scratch your side, a contemplative look on your face at the sight of Tendou in what you would assume to be his pajamas. An old volleyball hoodie with the words "Shirazorizawa" printed across the front, and old sweats the were so obviously cut with scissors at the knee.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a curt, “Alright, move aside.”

Tendou ushered you over to his kitchen where several of his cooking supplies laid on the island, along with a tray of some chocolate dessert spread.

“It’s all still in the testing phase, but I think I’m onto something here.”

He was definitely giving off “mad scientist” vibes. You tried not to snort.

Holding a small chocolate cake in his hand, he smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Open wide."

You obeyed, far too tired to argue, and let him pop the treat into your mouth. Tendou watched as you chewed, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. His wide gaze carefully took in every shift in your expression.

"So? Whaddya think?"

"I...," You chewed a bit more. "...It's delicious! Is that—"

"—Pistachio, why yes it is!"

Tendou was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. "It takes the entire thing to a whole new level."

You had to agree with him there. This was probably the best chocolate madeleine you'd ever tasted. "Great work, miracle boy. Will you be introducing this new recipe to Claude?"

Mentioning his teacher seemed to sober him up a bit. "Ehh, maybe? The old man's a bit of traditionalist, so I'll just have to figure out a way to get him to approve."

"Maybe try calling him at three in the morning?"

Tendou stuck his tongue out at you before popping a dessert in his mouth. The pure delight on his face was so contagious, you found yourself smiling just the same. You couldn’t help but admire his passion.

“Hey, Tendou… do you like your job?”

He blinked at you, chewing coming to a slow halt. “Well of course! The pay isn’t the best just yet, but it’s a labor of love. I’m willing to put my all into it at least.”

“Huh… that’s pretty cool.” You wiped your fingers on a nearby rag. “I hope to feel the same one day… if I can figure out what I wanna do.”

“Why not bake? You’re pretty good at it.”

“Oh am I? Last week you said my baking needed some work.”

“Well, duh, but my standards when it comes to confectionaries are impossibly high. Even so, I think you’d be successful as a baker. What’s stopping you from pursuing your labor of love?”

And that was the thing with Tendou. He talked a lot, teased even more, but it was never idle ramblings. Somehow, he always seemed to hit right at the heart of the issue with almost painfully uncomfortable accuracy.

“I don’t really know so…” You looked away, trailing off.

“Either way,” he said and placed a finger under your chin, raising your head until you were looking him in the eye. “I’m rooting for you.”

For a moment, you simply stared, awestruck. It was the first time in a long while someone was actually putting their faith in you, believing in you. He had come blazing into your life unabashed with his easy grins and gaze alight with mischief. His encouraging words, sincerity, sensitivity. Tendou was really incredible.

“Tendou…” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Of course, what are neighbors for.”

BONUS:

Three months later you sat curled up next to Tendou on his sofa, his entire apartment smelled of chocolate cocoa with hints of cinnamon.

Before you was an application. Culinary school.

“You really think I can do this?”

Tendou placed his head on your shoulder with a tiny smirk. “One hundred and twenty percent!”

You pondered for a moment, then decided that if he thought you were up for the challenge then you’d believe him.

“For the record, you probably aren’t supposed to recommend your girlfriend for an interview. You know, conflict of interest and all.”

Tendou laughed and pulled you closer. “Trust me, we’ll be fine, so don’t worry your pretty little head, ‘kay?”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #tendou x reader #tendou satori #satori tendou #satori tendou x reader #tendou satori x reader #sabi.writes

228 notes · View notes

utterlyinevitable · 4 years ago

Note

After seeing ur explanation for that anon i really want to see a fic or a hc of ethan as a dad and becca as mom can u please do it??

omg okay ahhh my babys having babies. this is gonna be long and idk if it’ll make sense bc imma jot down everything i know about domestic e&b.

[just finished and... this is long and broken down into 6 categories........... enjoy!]

Ethan & Becca as Parents

The Pregnancy

They didn’t plan on having children, it just kind of happened. Becca and Ethan took a day for the news to settle before they jumped into excited, expecting parents mode.

The most exciting part was renovating the condo to make the most perfect nursery and shopping for decorations and mentally planning all the traditions and things they’d love to give to their little family.

All of the happiness couldn’t mask the struggles of pregnancy.

Becca hated being pregnant. She was sick and nauseous constantly, and her back and feet always ached.

Throughout the whole thing Ethan doted on her; holding her hair back and learning how to tie it up in the way she likes, rubbing her back, running out to get whatever she was craving.

He even made copious amounts of notes about her eating patterns. Enough to keep two of everything in the condo.

If she was having a restless night, he would too; even if she was restless for non-human-growing reasons.

They were in this together.

And even when she was huddled over a garbage pail, dribble running down her chin, she never looked more beautiful to him.

There was just something about all this that made him feel all weird and fuzzy inside.

When her symptoms barely settled throughout the second trimester she overhauled her entire birthing plan. There was no way she was making it to 42 weeks. She was absolutely miserable. So she made a c-section appointment for 40 weeks.

She had an entire argument with Ethan one evening (she really was only yelling while he nodded his head). Her main points were: “It’s my body and the baby will be fine. I was born 6 weeks early and I turned out fantastic!” and “Once the baby’s out of me I’m still going to have to pee. Omg what if she rips me open!? How am I supposed to use the bathroom without worrying about my stitches?”

All he kept reiterating was: “I love you. I trust you and your instincts.”

Becca felt better as he held her face in his large hands, his calming azure eyes boring into hers and letting her know everything will be alight.

But deep down she spent the next few weeks since making the appointment wondering if she should have given vaginal birth a try. She didn’t want Ethan to resent her for chickening out of her body’s natural function.

The Birth

Becca made it to her c-section appointment. Happily rubbing her large belly and glowing: “I can’t wait to not be pregnant anymore! Never do this to me again.”

All Ethan did was chuckle.

He was happy she was getting color back and that her symptoms finally settled enough for her to spend the last few weeks enjoying their daughters kicks. But oh my god was Ethan Ramsey terrified of being a father.

He wouldn’t tell Becca though. She was emotional and worried enough as is. Any and all his concerns were saved for the short conversations he had with his father. “Don’t overthink it, son. The moment you lay eyes on your daughter you’ll know what to do. It’s instinct. Biology. That was your best subject in school, wasn’t it?” Alan would joke.

The surgery went off without a hitch.

All of Becca’s hatred for the phenomenon of pregnancy vanished the second the nurse placed their daughter on her chest.

Rebecca was in awe. She made that! This little person came out of her! This little pink person that looks like a plucked chicken with a tiny tuft of brown hair was here and she was beautiful. The perfect combination of her and Ethan.

The embodiment of their love.

Dakota Dolores Ramsey was completely unplanned. Unplanned but not unwanted.

The first time Ethan Ramsey held his daughter time froze. The universe needed a minute to process the broad grin and full heart thumping rapidly from this stoic and reserved man.

The earth was about to spin the wrong way but then Dakota opened her eyes.

Everything was the way divinity had planned it.

At Home

Although Ethan and Becca lived a 10 minutes drive from Edenbrook, nearly a straight run, Becca forced him to drive as slow as possible.

Dakota was asleep and she needed to keep it that way.

Due to her stitches, Becca was forced to take things easy. No matter how many times she argued with Ethan that she was capable of menial tasks around the house.

Ethan would not let her lift a finger.

If Dakota needed a change he’d happily do it. if Becca was hungry he’d make her favorite.

“You had her to yourself for nine months. Let me take the next few days.” Becca went to retort, all she wanted was to hold her baby for the rest of eternity. She’d never tire of looking at her scrunched up potato face and watching as her features changed every moment of every day. “I promise to share.” “You better,” she kissed him as he tucked her into bed for a much needed nap.

The only thing he was forced to share with his partner was feeding duty - Becca was adamant on breast feeding. A bottle would not touch their daughters lips for months to come.

That in itself brought its own challenges.

Most nights Ethan laid in bed with Becca curled up at his side in one arm and Dakota resting on his bare chest.

Parenting was weird, but an exhilarating change.

Ethan couldn’t diagnose what he could have possibly have done right in his life to be this wholly happy.

The Second

Once Ethan and Becca had one child they were both itching for a second.

“You know what say: ‘if you have one you have to have two’.” “Is that so?” “You don’t want Dakota to have a sibling?” “I was an only child and look how I turned out.” “Emotionally stunted and certified loner?” she teased.

Truth be told, Ethan wanted another. He’s been thinking of giving his pride and joy a few siblings for weeks now. He just didn’t know how to tell Becca.

Becca complained frequently about how happy she was to not be pregnant, and often about how her scar healed funnily.

All of the signs pointed to her not wanting another. And Ethan was okay with that. He never expected to have one child. He’d cherish every moment of what’s been placed right in his fingertips.

He’ll let his soon-to-be wife choose their path. She’s dictated everything else thus far. Ethan was elated she chose him to be along for the ride.

After Dakota’s first birthday, when they made the decision to have another, they tried desperately to conceive.

“I really don’t want to have to deal with diapers for five years,” was Becca’s main reason for keeping the kids close in age. “We can try surrogacy.” Ethan offered, knowing how much she hated pregnancy. He didn’t want to push her into anything. “No. I have to do it. I’ll do it for our kids. But you owe me big time.”

And 14 months later Caroline Marie Ramsey made her grand appearance.

And Becca got her first push present.

The Last

It’s fitting that four years later Ethan and Becca were blessed with another surprise.

Her pregnancy with James Jonah was the smoothest of them all.

Of course that meant something had to go wrong.

At 34 weeks Becca went into premature vaginal labor.

Within six hours their baby boy arrived. 5lbs 2oz and looking like an alien.

Ethan almost lost them both after the fact.

Becca lost too much blood with the placenta and JJ was so tiny.

But the Lao’s were fighters and they pulled through. Ethan cried at her bedside once the harrowing 24 hours were up.

Becca stayed at the hospital for a week, Ethan and Alan bringing the girls to visit every single day.

JJ had to stay a few days longer and Becca refused to leave until she could bring her son home.

She went through her first experience with postpartum depression. Becca didn’t think anything could be worse than the mental toll her abortion had on her years earlier. But she was wrong.

She was so wrong.

All their friends chipped in to help take care of the kids while Ethan devoted his time to helping his wife. The couple went to therapy, sometimes together, other times Ethan sat in the waiting room as Becca worked through her emotions.

Months later, the parents were sitting at home. Ethan held their son and their daughters were curled on their laps: He muttered into his wife’s hair, “I’d like to have one more.” “Not with me you’re not,” she scoffed. “We’re outnumbered as is.”

JJ began to cry and the girls stirred. Dakota mumbling, “Tell the baby to shut up, I’m sleeping here.”

They couldn’t help but laugh and pull apart to put their whole world to bed.

Old and graying and spending more time at home with his kids, Ethan wanted just one more baby. Four was a strong, even number. He could have a whole daycare full of them - each one the best variations of him and Becca.

Becca had spent a large portion of her 30s childrearing and she’s done. Done with diapers and formula, especially. She loves her children more than anything but they’re exhausting. She can’t wait for them to be in school full time and she can have some more alone time with her husband. It’s been so long since it’s been just them too.

“Don’t hate me...” “I could never hate you,” Ethan said as he brushed a few strands of hair from his wife’s face. She swallowed and confidently said, “I want you to get a vasectomy.”

He agreed without further consideration. She made a very compelling argument.

Parenting

Ethan is the doting helicopter dad and Becca is doctor drill sergeant. The kids get away with nothing under their mother’s watch.

Ethan is very soft and adores his children. The grumpy attending could have a whole gaggle of them. He spoils his daughters rotten, picking up the newest doll and toy they’re obsessed with, and making them promise not to tell mommy.

The women in Ethan’s life get away with everything and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

When the girls were born, Ethan stepped back at work letting the better Dr. Ramsey have her career defining moments.

He took half days to pick the girls up from preschool and would bring them to the park or museums. He’d even try to teach them to cook their favorite recipes on cold, rainy days. He’d tire them out so that he and mom could tuck them in after dinner.

Ethan’s afraid of his son. He’s afraid the tot is going to turn out exactly like him - he’s the spitting image, except that his hair curls like his mother’s.

Instead of putting JJ in fulltime daycare, Ethan chose part time preschool. The girls were in primary school now and he’s taken a bigger step back from the hospital after the baby was born.

He devotes all his free time to teaching his son about all he knows and learning all he doesn’t.

Becca complains about the state of her vagina and stomach all the time. Never in front of the children but often enough Ethan knows the look on her face right before she says the same two lines.

Her favorite activity is building forts and taking the kids to the beach.

The holidays have never felt more alive with the full house. Ethan even became a Christmas and Valentines Day lover.

Becca loved watching him change over the years. Every new first they celebrated with each child, every one of their kids passions, Ethan would adopt them all and make it his mission to be a connoisseur of every facet.

Dakota sat her parents down one day with a serious topic of conversation: “Mommy, Daddy. I’m going to be a fashion designer.” “Will you?” “Yes. And I need to dress myself.” “As long as it’s weather appropriate, consider it done.” “And we need to get supplies.”

The conversation went on for 15 minutes with Ethan and Becca asking questions and Dakota making demands. Once they’ve settled on an agreement on how to make their daughter’s dream happen, Ethan retired to his office. He taught himself the basics of sewing.

Even with all the struggles of raising three children in a suburb of Boston while balancing very demanding medical careers, Ethan and Becca wouldn’t have it any other way. The life they carved out of all their complications was worth it.

All of this was inevitable.

And they wouldn’t take a moment for granted.

________________________________________

Um... this became bigger than intended... If you made it this far, thank you ♥

Masterlist

Perma:

@rookiemarsswiftie @lucy-268 @binny1985 @thegreentwin @queencarb @danijimenezv @starrystarrytrouble e @terrm9 @interobanginyourmom @adrex04 @maurine07 @mercury84choices @schnitzelbutterfingers @theeccentricbibliophile @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @kaavyaethanramsey @mvalentine @rookie-ramsey @drariellevalentine @lifeaskim @otherworldlypresents @therookie @aylaramseycarrera @angela8754 @fireycookie @stateofgracious

Ethan:

@udishaman @honeyandsunfl0wers @hutchereverlark23 @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @blossomanarchy @claredal424 @caseyvalentineramsey @rookieoh @openheartthot @senseofduties @lilyvalentine @tsrookie @kalogh @aworldoffandoms @takemyopenheart t @casey-v @ramseyandrys @peaceinmidstofchaos

#Anonymous #asked #this was a lot of word vomit #did not edit at all #don't let this flop #reblog for the 3 kids ethan and becca need to support #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart fanfic

111 notes · View notes

wulfies-kpop-fanfics · 3 years ago

Text

One Photo → Mark Lee [9] [END]

↳ Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader

↳ AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.

↳ Warning: angst if you squint

↳ Word count: 2,857

↳ Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | You Are Here!

⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TUESDAY - 9

Day by day, things got steadily worse. Your body was constantly giving out, you had trouble breathing, and whenever you ate something, you always managed to throw it back up. The weight loss and iron deficiency you had developed after the last periods you’ve had led to four clinic visits and one hospital scare. You tried to play it off to your boss, but enough was enough and you knew you were going to be let go.

It took a lot of thinking, but you had finally decided to do what you had to. So, there you stood, taping the last box closed. You had sold your final possession besides your bed and your oldest camera, handing the sealed box to the buyer who had been standing in your kitchen. “Thank you,” he said, smiling gently at you. “This is gonna make my daughter really happy. I…” he cleared his throat awkwardly; “I hope that you get better soon.”

You nodded, holding your breath for a moment to avoid coughing in his direction. “Of course. I hope she uses that camera well, it helped me a lot when I started college.”

After he left, you looked over the bare-boned atmosphere of your apartment. Your coffee table was gone, your bookshelf, your easel. Your little television, table and chair, and nearly all of your glassware and cutlery had been sold as well. Walking into your room, the only things that were left were your tote of movies with all of Mark’s cards and letters tucked inside, and a backpack with a second outfit, toiletries and your camera stuffed in it. Even your bed was stripped just to the bottom sheet, the summer hot enough and your fever high enough that you didn’t need blankets anyway. Today was finally the day you had finally procured enough money for a plane ticket, a one-way trip that hopefully would relieve the pain in your heart and the crushing pressure in your head.

While you lay in your bed, waiting for the night to pass, your phone, one of the last things you had to keep with you, buzzed. Rhiannon: How are you doing

You: I can never tell anymore

Rhiannon: Johnny, Hyuckie and I are going to meet you at the airport tomorrow. Mark’s getting pretty bad

Worry filled your chest, and you frowned at your screen.

You: Is he going to be okay? Rhiannon: we don’t know. He’s completely bedridden, I just hope that you don’t end up that way before your flight. I’m worried that they might not even let you on.

You: I have to try

Rhiannon: I know…

Rhiannon: I’ll see you soon, okay? I miss you

You: I miss you too.

At this point, getting onto your flight was the least of your worries. After putting down your phone, you mad managed to get about ten minutes of rest before you had to run to your bathroom to throw up the measly dinner you had put together with the small food budget you had set for yourself. Once you were sure your stomach had settled, you went back into your backpack and pulled out your toothbrush, returning to the bathroom to clean out your mouth.

Looking into the mirror above your sink, you noticed how bad you had really gotten. Your cheeks were hollow, your skin pale and underneath your sunken eyes were the works dark circles you’ve ever had. You brushed as slowly as you could, hoping that you wouldn’t start to feel nauseous again. After spitting and rinsing out the sink, you decided that maybe it would be better to just get up and go to the airport now.

You left your house key for the landlord on your kitchen counter with a note about where the spare was, stepping outside and locking the house with the spare, hiding it under your doormat before heading toward the elevator and beginning your journey.

Occasionally you’d lose your footing, your balance off and your legs weak. You would grab onto the wall to steady yourself, hoping that you wouldn’t pass out. About an hour of subway and streetcar riding, you finally made it to the airport. It was chilling to see so many eyes on you. You knew that coming in this condition would get you multiple looks and passing disgusted faces, but you felt like you were passed feeling embarrassed. The teller looked at you sympathetically when you asked for the Delta non-stop flight to Incheon.

“Soulmate?” She asked, tilting her head curiously when you slid her your ID and your debit card, all of the money you had from selling your things on it. Just enough to pay for your ticket.

“Yeah. Almost two years since I’ve seen him.” “My God,” she gasped, typing away on her keyboard. “It’s good you’re going now, I could never survive being away from my soulmate for that long. I was away from mine for a month when he was on a business trip and I was hospitalized!”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you rasp, watching her smile sadly in your direction. “I hope things go well for you. Have a safe flight to South Korea.” She slid your ticket, debit card, ID and itinerary over her desk, watching you slowly reach out to grab it. “Get lots of rest when you land.” “Thank you, I’ll try.” Feeling a little more pleasant after being wished well, you continued on your way. Through customs, the security check and the passport check, you did your best to keep back any coughing and the creeping feeling of nausea that was beginning to overwhelm you. Finally, you arrived in the boarding area, taking a seat with your bag on the floor, in between your knees. It was still a while before your plane would even arrive, so you plugged in your phone and decided to watch a movie.

Night crept over the lounge, the windows displaying a slowly setting sun. After your movie ended you kept yourself occupied by watching the planes come and go until the tarmac was lit up with guiding lights that looked like stars.

‘Flight from Toronto to Incheon nonstop now boarding.’

Finally.

You stumbled along and waited in your line, looking at your seat number. It was near the back of the plane, which would be loud, but at least it was close to the bathroom. The boarding attendant gave you a look with squinted eyes, but he still scanned your ticket, looked at your passport and let you go through.

Down the hallway, your legs gave out and your body clattered to the floor. “Hey, are you alright!?” Someone behind you came running up, gently taking your arm and helping you off the floor. “Jeez, you just toppled over!” She observed you, holding you steady. “You’re nothing but skin and bones…” “Sorry,” you apologize, hoping that you’d stay upright when she let your arm go. “I haven’t been doing the best lately.” “That’s okay,” she assured you. “Don’t you worry one bit.” Cautiously, she began walking with you, holding out her hands as if she was expecting you to fall again. “Why are you here and not at home, resting?”

“I, well... this is soulmate sickness,” you explain cautiously. “My soulmate is doing worse than I am, and I decided to sell everything I own to buy a one-way ticket. I’m going to see him.”

“Man,” she breathed, “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

You let out a small, hollow laugh. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.” “What seat are you?” “39-A.”

“Oh,” she smiled at you, just as the plane entrance was coming into view. “I’m 39-B! I’ll help you put your backpack up, okay?”

“Thank you,”

She smiled at you. “My pleasure.”

The hostess greeted you both when your new friend helped you board, watching with stunned eyes as you passed her. You both made your way to the back of the plane. You slipped off your backpack and she put both hers and your carry on into the compartment above you. “Do you want the window seat, or will that make you nauseous?” She asked, tilting her head to the side with an empathetic smile. “Would you be okay with switching? I’m supposed to have the window, but..”

“Yeah, I’m totally fine with it! Here, sit down with me.” Once you both were seated, she held your hand. “So, what’s your name?”

“It’s (Y/N),” you answer slowly, giving her a smile when you feel her hand take yours. It had been so long since someone had given you any physical affection. “I’m Nia,” she grinned. “It’s nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you, too.”

After the plane took off, Nia did everything she could for you. She made sure you had a blanket, water, and she even had wipes in her purse that she kept on your forehead to make sure your fever stayed down. Nia talked with you about her boyfriend, showing you part of her scar that was on the back of her neck. She told the story about the last time she was in Korea, lost and out of her depth. Wonseo, her soulmate, had bumped into her, not paying enough attention to avoid her when she stopped to try and read a street sign. She, in turn, had a scar on her back and on her scalp, while his, funnily enough, was on the top part of his chest and his nose.

When you told her about meeting Mark and your own scar, her happy grin only seemed to grow wider. “I’m a fan,” she admitted, “and I’m guessing you haven’t been keeping up with media because before he stopped his activities, he started wearing that Star Wars sweater everywhere. Everyone knew it was from you since the first time he ever had it with him was in Pearson two years ago. I knew I recognized you, but dang, girl. You look terrible compared to then.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I tend to stay away from it all now, it just stresses me out.” She nodded understandingly. “Have you thought about the Gold Ceremony? Wonseo and I are actually in the process of planning ours, and I’m on my way home from meeting a bridesmaid that still lives in Canada.”

“I haven’t really thought about that yet,” you answer honestly. “It’s all so nerve-wracking, don’t you think?”

Nia shrugged. “I suppose your situation is a little different from everyone else’s, so I understand the aversion. I love the romance of it all, you know? Gold coating your scars so that everyone can see it as a sign of your commitment? Ah, it’s so exciting!”

“Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to ask him,” you say quietly, smiling at Nia.

“Only if you’re comfortable, girl. Having your entire chest exposed to everyone around you may be a little weird even if you are getting married, y’know?”

You chuckle. “Yeah, that’s true.”

You kept little conversations going, occasionally stopping to take small naps. The two of you also exchanged numbers, and you felt happy that you had made a new friend. Eventually, daylight began to peek through the windows of the plane, signalling the time change and that you would soon arrive in Korea.

Truthfully, no matter what Nia did for you, you only felt worse. You smiled and held back your nausea, but you could feel that as every moment passed, you declined further and further into your sickness. When the flight landed, you were happy that the sense of vertigo was gone, but you weren’t sure how long you would last without passing out. “Want me to help you through customs?” Nia asked once the seatbelt sign was turned off. She helped you stand, taking down your backpack for you and securing it on your shoulders. “I don’t want to be a burden on you,” you said quickly, grasping the seats as you made your way up to exit the plane.

“You’re far from that,” Nia reassured. “I won’t be able to stay with you the whole time, I just want to make sure that you make it to the people waiting for you okay. You said three of your friends were coming to meet you?” “Yeah,” you nod, thanking the hostess quietly as you pass her. “Thank you, Nia.” “Anything for a friend.” Slowly but surely, Nia helped you through the check-in and declaration stations, leading you through each step. Once you both got your passports checked, she turned and smiled at you. “I have to go get my suitcase now. Be safe and keep in touch, okay?” Nia hugged you ever so gently, before waving and taking her lead in the opposite direction you were to go, making her way to grab her suitcase off the conveyer.

“See you,” you called behind her, steeling your nerve. You could make it. While you could barely read the directions with your now blurring vision, you managed to make it to the meeting area. Just barely in your line of sight were Rhiannon, Donghyuck and Johnny, holding up a rainbow sign with your name on it. You felt your chest flare-up, and if it was due to your sickness or your happiness you couldn’t tell, but you still began making your way toward them, smiling and waving.

That was until your body finally gave in. ~ “(Y/N)!” Rhiannon immediately dropped the sign and made a beeline for you as you toppled to the ground, Johnny and Donghyuck not far behind. She grit her teeth, doing her best to turn you over and hold you.

Donghyuck reached into his pocket to pull out his phone, ready to call an emergency number if Rhiannon couldn’t determine that you were breathing. He sighed with relief, luckily the airport was mostly empty and nobody would crowd you. “Is she okay?” Johnny knelt down beside her, looking on with worry. Rhiannon quickly checked your pulse and held her hand above your mouth. “Seems like she just passed out, she’s still breathing.” She breathed a sigh of relief, placing a hand over her chest.

Johnny breathed a sigh of relief. “We should get her home, then. I’ll carry her, you grab her backpack.”

Rhiannon nodded and slowly took your backpack off while Johnny picked you up. “Let’s go.”

Everyone was waiting in the living room for Johnny and Rhiannon to return with you, after hearing them explain what happened when Taeyong called to check-in. They knew they couldn’t tell Mark about what happened since his condition was not much better. He was in his room, nearly unaware of everyone sitting and waiting with bated breath. Yuta and Jungwoo stood up quickly when the door handle turned and opened, revealing Rhiannon and Donghuck. Johnny followed in close behind, you in his arms, barely conscious.

“Hi, everyone,” you rasped, smiling as best you could, with lidded eyes.

“(Y/N),” Doyoung stood. “We’ve all missed you.”

“Yeah,” Jungwoo agreed. “We’re glad you’re home.”

“Thank you,” your words were soft, laboured. “Where’s Mark?” You looked up at Johnny tiredly. Johnny smiled gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll take you to him. Let’s go.”

You did your best to stay awake, suddenly beginning to feel a little better. Soon you both came across a door, the door slightly ajar. Johnny pushed it open gently with his foot.

“Guess who’s here?” He called into the room, and as soon as you lay eyes on Mark, you felt both simultaneously happy and guilty. Mark was skin and bones like you were, hollow cheeks and dark circles under his eyes. He was shivering as he struggled to sit up, large and thick blankets slowly shifting as he moved. “(Y/N),” he said, his lips forming the most endearing smile. “(Y/N), you’re here,”

“Yeah, I’m here.” Johnny carried you to Mark’s bed, gently placing you down next to him in the spot where he had just barely pulled back the blankets. You had your head laying on Mark’s chest as soon as Johnny put you down, Mark’s arm immediately wrapping around you. You both breathed in a deep sigh of relief, and you felt your nose beginning to clear up. “You could probably use some water. I’ll be back.” Johnny quietly left the room, and as soon as the door shut, you couldn’t think of anything to say.

You felt life coming back to you, but the long flight and the months of hardship still weighed heavy on you. You knew that this was your condition because you were struggling, and you had just sacrificed everything to be here. Now, on top of being sick, you were dirt poor. But, at least you were with your soulmate, and at least you were with all of your friends. At least you finally felt like you weren’t dying. “You can sleep,” you hear Mark whisper as he moved his other arm to touch your face. “I can tell you’re tired.”

You smiled weakly. “Okay, as long as you sleep too.” Mark laughed softly. “Agreed.”

Not long after, the door creaked open once again. Johnny had come back with a glass of water, followed by Rhiannon. Johnny placed the glass of water on the nightstand next to your bed, while Rhiannon watched you and Mark sleep for a moment, holding the small framed photo in her hands, the one that started it all. She placed it next to the glass of water, adjusting it so you would see it when you woke up.

“Sleep well.”

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #nct #nct127 #nctu #nct scenarios #nct imagines #reader insert #fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

30 notes · View notes

ateezmakemeweep · 5 years ago

Text

the 5 times you want mingi to stay + the 1 time he does

fuckbuddy!au

word count: 14k

angst, fluff, smut

funnily enough, the arrangement started on valentine's day.

you and mingi both happened to be at a bar with your friends that night, your separate groups wallowing in self pity in the form of overpriced tequila and body-shots.

meanwhile the both of you sat just two stools away from each other, miserable not because of your relationship status but from the company that came with alcohol and obnoxious, drunken rambles.

those drunk ramblings were, in fact, what sparked everything.

"y/n," your friend had loudly whined, breath reeking of liquor, "it's valentine's day, it's the peeeeerfect day to finally get yourself laid!"

"shhh!" you said, putting your hand over her mouth, "i'd rather the entire bar not hear about my lack of a sex life, if you wouldn't mind."

"oh ple-ease, they can just smell the pent up sexual frustration on you," she said and your cheeks flamed red. you didn't even have any time to chastise her before she sauntered over to the tall, dark-haired boy a few seats away and started talking animatedly.

mingi was minding his own business when a girl stumbled up to him, her slurred words telling him that she had a friend who was very much so in much need of a "valentine's day fuck" and he would've laughed if she didn't point you out, looking so embarrassed and shy and ready to bolt.

girls had been coming up to him all night, batting their eyelashes and offering him drinks while he all but sneered at them before they finally got the hint and fucked off.

but you. he liked the pureness, liked that you looked like you didn't belong here and especially liked that maybe you could be his distraction tonight.

and a distraction you were. you two talked for the four hours your friends stayed at the bar and got inebriated, two of them coincidently hooking up in the bathroom and then getting an uber home together.

you discussed everything and nothing, talking and laughing and smiling the entire time.

he played the nice boy for most of the night, told you about how hard he works at his job, how his friends could be obnoxious assholes but he loves them like family, how he secretly enjoys just lounging around the house and watching movies.

he also seemed interested in you, asking about your interests and schooling and childhood and it really seemed as if he was intrigued, watching you talk with soft, attentive eyes and a pretty, contagious laugh.

(of course he failed to tell you how easily he moved on from girl to girl, straight up about his intentions but kissing and licking and fucking every part of them so well that they were always left begging for more).

when you saw your friends were winding down towards the end of the night, getting a last round of waters and calling for ubers, you swallowed the nervous knot in your throat and asked him for his number.

you knew you shouldn't have, knew he was actually bad news by the way his eyes would occasionally roam over you, how his tongue would slowly lick his lips when he watched you speak and how he so openly joked that he would take your friend's offer in a second if you were willing.

you also knew, positively knew, you shouldn't have when he took your face in his giant hand and mumbled, "you had me on my best behavior tonight, y/n. but any other night... you should know i only answer for one thing."

and when those words left his mouth, something burned deep inside you. something longing and yearning and enticed enough for you to smile up at him and put your number in his outreached phone.

he smirked at you before standing up, leaning over to place a peck on your cheek.

"hope to hear from you soon, little one," he said before gathering his herd of loud friends and heading out the door without a single glance back.

1. 03/04/19

the first time you texted mingi, you feared he wouldn't remember who you were nor recall the offer your friend so graciously handed to him on valentine's day that served as your lousy opening message.

but to your surprise, and utter delight, he did. even answered with a short response of:

about time, y/n. address?

he walked in your apartment a few hours later looking just as attractive and tall as you remembered. you already felt your heart start to race and palms start to sweat but you wanted this.

you hadn't been able to stop thinking about much you wanted him, hadn't been able to get his face or his voice or his entire being out of your mind since valentine's day.

and so you finally caved. after one particularly rough week of drama with friends, stressful school work and, frankly, just getting tired of the burning in your core, you texted him.

you guys were making out on your couch, the movie now just noise in the background when his hand slipped under your t-shirt. he hummed against your lips at your bare chest, skin soft and warm and inviting.

"no bra?" he mumbles in your ear, voice deep and teasing, "you were just waiting here all ready for me, weren't you?"

his thumb brushes over your nipple and you bite into your lower lip, a strangled moan slipping out that has his cock hardening in his pants.

"a moan just from that, baby? when was the last time you were fucked, huh?"

he feels you stiffen underneath him and he pulls back immediately, hand still resting on you while he looks down at you questioningly. he sees the hesitance in your eyes, maybe even a twinge of shyness or embarrassment, and his hand leaves from your under your shirt.

"little one, have you been fucked?"

the nickname has you squeezing your legs together and he tries so hard to ignore it, finding himself now torn because he knows you deserve better for your first time. deserve someone who could properly love and cherish and take care of you, not someone like him whose desire is heightening from the mere fact that he'll be the first man you're with. that from here on out, you'll only have him to compare others to.

with a little shake of your head, he licks his dry lips and stares down at you intensely, taking a deep breath before asking if you're sure you still wanna do this with him.

"of course, it's not a big deal," you tell him softly, "i just...it should've happened by now and i just...i want to..." you stutter before confessing, "i'm more than ready to get it over with."

because the whole idea that your first time has to be special and magical kind of goes out the window when you're a legal adult in the presence of a man like this.

he thinks, if he were a better person, he would've asked one more time if you were absolutely sure but because he is who he is, and you're looking up at him the way you are with arousal and heat in your eyes, he picks you up and carries you toward the bedroom.

he lays you out, strips you from the rest of your clothes and works his fingers and tongue on your clit for what feels like hours. alternating from long licks to small circles with his thumb to his tongue lapping so skillfully against your slit until he's easily sliding two fingers in you. he watches you come apart for the first time, hot mouth right between your legs as he continues to pound his fingers in and out of you.

your mouth hangs open, fingers threading through his hair and trembling legs on either side of his head as you feel the deep knot in your lower stomach start to quickly unravel. you come with a moan and then more and more when he enters you inch by inch, so so slowly because he doesn't wanna hurt you and taint your first time even more but you're just so tight around him and he's gonna lose his mind at the feeling of your clenching.

"you're so fucking tight, baby," his low voice says in your ear as he barely starts to pick up his slowed pace, "this pussy's been waiting for me, hasn't it? you've just been waiting to be fucked by me."

you can only moan louder as a response because you're too embarrassed and out of your element but also so turned on and shaking.

as his pace picks up, as he fucks into you and hits a spot deep inside you, rubbing his finger back over your clit, he grits out "this is my pussy from here on out, do you hear me?"

you simply moan again but he slows his pace, taking his finger off you and you shoot your head up to look at him in distress.

"answer me," he growls, "this is my pussy now, right?"

"yes," you yelp out and you would've responded the same way if he said the sky was green because you just don't want him to stop.

"yes what?" he says, thrusting a tad faster but refusing to touch your aching clit.

"yes, this is your...your pussy," you say and even fucked out, the words feel awkward and foreign leaving your mouth. but you have to say them because the pleasure he's giving you outweighs your virgin politics and inexperience.

"that's a good baby," he says and he puts his finger back on your clit, still refusing to move it, just holds it there tauntingly and you let out a whine that doesn't sound familiar to your pounding ears.

"if you're in the mood to fuck, you call me. do you understand?"

"yes," you moan out.

"no one else fucks this pussy. only me," he says sternly and he can't believe his own ears. he's never the type to do this, never the type to initiate a second hookup let alone completely ban someone else from sleeping with anyone but him.

but he could tell the second he saw you, you were gonna affect him differently.

"yes, just you. you're...you're the only one that's gonna fuck me," you say, breathy and whiney and responsive so he's finally fucking into you again, pace sped up and thumb rubbing over your clit until you're both moaning each other's names, pussy clenching and cock leaking and then he crashes on top of you, boneless and tired but so relieved.

he rolls over onto his back, trying to catch his breath as he feels your sweaty forearms grazing together. the room is silent for a few minutes, heavy breathing and the scent of sex in the air surrounding both of you.

you let out a shaky breath before sitting up, hair tousled over your shoulder with flushed cheeks and he can't help the small smile that covers his face.

"you good?" he mumbles because he's not a complete asshole and that was a hell of a first time for you.

"yeah, i-i think so," you tell him quietly, "that was..."

the smirk creeping onto his face tells you he knows, his eyes moving down to your bare chest and shyness overtakes you as you grab the sheet to cover yourself.

"yeah, better cover up, not like that tight pussy of yours was just in my face or anything," he says sarcastically and your mouth drops open at his vulgarity.

"oh my, god! stop!" you yelp mortified, cheeks now bright red as you grip the cotton tighter.

a tiny chuckle leaves his mouth as he sits up, moving the strand of sweaty hair off your forehead and he feels himself ready to bolt.

because he's never had an interest in staying afterwards, had no desire to fake being interested in bare minimum aftercare or awkward one-word conversations during a post sex meal.

but with how you're looking at him, still so shy and pure after you were just ruined by him, eyes wide and sparkling at him, he's not about to risk his chances of messing up the system in an effort to not get attached to you.

though he supposes he ruined that when he made you promise not to have sex with anyone else.

but that's different, he tries to convince himself as he stands up to shrug on his boxers and pants, looking around for his shirt as you watch him with furrowed eyebrows.

you didn't think he was gonna stay but you also didn't think he was gonna run out of here five minutes after.

"i'm...i'm probably gonna order chinese if you wanna stay for some," you tell him softly because you'd be lying if you said you didn't want him to be next to you for just a little bit longer.

"i'm good, thank you though," he says while tugging on his shirt, "it's getting late and i gotta be up early tomorrow."

you check to see it's almost 11:00 at night and you nod your head in understanding, trying to banish the sinking feeling in your stomach.

"oh...right, yeah, okay," you stutter out and he smiles at you, trying to understand why there's a painful shooting through his chest.

he walks around the bed to sit next to you, his hand moving to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as he looks down at you.

he licks his dry lips, eyes burning into yours as his voice drops.

"you remember what i said? about only calling me?"

your eyebrow raises and a part of you wonders if he's gonna be out having sex with whoever he pleases when he's here putting these restrictions on you.

you're about to say something of the sorts when his hand brushes over your cheek, slow and soft and gentle and you're embarrassed that something as simple as that has words meant for establishing fairness and rules dying in your throat.

instead, you say "yes, mingi," and his eyes darken, his face bending down to place his lips on yours. they immediately part so his tongue can slip in your mouth, caressing your own as his teeth sink down into your lip so he can dominate you one more time.

he pulls back, looking over your flushed face and sloppily kissing your pink cheek as his hot breath fans across you.

"i'll see you soon, little one."

2. 5/10/19

you knew the second mingi arrived, he wasn't himself. even the way he texted you that night was unusual.

his message pinged through asking if you were home followed by a knocking on your door ten minutes later that had him barreling through your apartment. his hands immediately grabbed your cheeks, lips attacking yours as he kicks the door shut and slams you against it.

he shoved his tongue in your mouth, grabbing your wrists and pinning them against your head roughly before dragging his mouth down to your neck. he sucked it to the point of pain, teeth sinking into the sensitive skin and you let out the smallest of whimpers.

he pulls back and you see the fire behind his eyes, pent up stress and anger so raw that you find yourself swallowing from both fear and arousal.

because usually he was fun and playful during foreplay, the both of you giggly and teasing for hours before he finally took you into the bedroom and became this mingi.

but now he's only been here for two minutes and your neck is already marked up, wrists red and cramped from his hold and he looks just about ready to destroy you.

"i need you to be good for me tonight," he says, "please, baby, i need you so bad." his voice is desperate and deep and begging and you know something had to have happened.

so you're on your knees in seconds, his body now against the door as you pull his pants and boxers down to his ankles and work your hand around his dick to get him painfully hard. you hear a quiet bump from above you, his head thrown back against the wood and then a quiet groan leaving his mouth when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

you swirl your tongue around the tip before hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head up and down, hands holding him down by his hips and you hear his choked out grunts of expletives.

"look at me," he then says and your eyes raise to his ever so slightly. you take him out of your mouth, running your tongue along the underside of his cock as your eyes bore into his and they're so dark looking down at you.

you spit on the tip, lips wet and red and just grazing his most sensitive part that he's nearly bucking his hips into your mouth.

"stop playing and suck," he growls and you obey immediately, taking him in your mouth to start bobbing your head again. your tongue swirls around the tip ever now and then, lapping in circles before engulfing his cock and his hands are pulling at your hair to create a makeshift ponytail.

your hand starts to jerk him and the feel of your wet, hot mouth around him has deep groans leaving his mouth.

his hips start twitching again and he bucks his hips into your mouth, his large length hitting the back of your throat and a muffled gag leaves your throat.

a strangled chuckle leaves his mouth as he pulls you off his dick by your hair. you wince at the sharp pain before he pushes you backwards causing you to fall on to your butt.

you're shocked at first and then your heart speeds up when he's looming over you, reaching down with his hands to get you completely on your back. he meets you on the ground, body over yours as his hand comes up to your throat.

"gagging on my cock? i forgot you were just a sweet little virgin when we met," he tells you, eyes hot and dark and intensely staring into yours like a mad man, "but i've really made you into my little whore, haven't i?"

he's never talked to you like this before, never degraded you in the slightest and you didn't think you'd be into it but the wetness seeping into your thong is saying otherwise.

"and you're still only my whore, right?" he asks, tightening his hold around your neck.

you nod your head, swallowing nervously because you're not used to this tight a grip.

"i had such a bad fucking day, so many people getting on my nerves and fucking things up," he confesses to you while he tears your shirt off over your head. "but you. you always help, little one," he continues, ripping down your shorts and thong as his breath fans right between your legs, "you and this sweet little pussy reserved for me always help."

you squirm when more wetness pools between your bare legs and he smirks, licking over your wet thighs and then to down to your hole before moving to your clit. he puts one finger in you, licking and sucking and playing with you before another finger slams into you.

you moan at the feeling and it only causes him to suck your clit again, fingers angled up to hit that spot deep inside you.

he looks up at you and slowly licks up and down when he sees you've been watching him through half lidded eyes.

"you like watching me baby? like watching me eat your pretty pussy?" he asks, fingers ripped from you as he shoves them in your mouth in an effort to make you gag again.

you cry out and moan against his fingers because he's making you feel so good but also empty, his tongue not enough to satisfy your dripping pussy.

you twitch in his hold, moving your hips back and fourth almost uncontrollably and he smirks, pulling his mouth back to see you splayed out on your living room floor with your legs spread and face twinged with arousal and frustration.

"you just want my cock, don't you?" he muses, "want me to fuck you over and over until you're screaming my name."

you nod your head, a tiny whine of "yes, please" leaving your mouth and you cry out just seconds later when his cock slams into your wetness.

he pounds into you like he's never done before, your body moving against the floor as he grunts and groans and grinds himself into you.

your feet wrap around his waist, his pants still by his ankles and he lifts your hips up so his thrusts can hit you deeper.

you let out a loud moan, slapping your hand over your mouth because your downstairs neighbor is already probably pretty pissed off.

but mingi doesn't care.

he rips your hand away from your mouth, taking both of them and holding your arms above your head.

"don't even fucking try it," he growls in your ear, steadying out his pace, "i'm treating this pussy so well and you don't want me to hear you scream my name?"

your eyes roll back when he hits that deep spot in you again, his hand tightening on your wrists as the other one roughly plays with your hard nipple. you let out a moan, throwing your head back and attempting to grind your hips to match his speed.

he feels you clench around him and he pounds into you again, fast and hard and deep and you let a tiny, pleasurable scream as the knot starts to unravel.

"you've been getting so fucking greedy, coming whenever you want," he growls at you, "you think because you have this tight little pussy, you can just-" his loud, abrupt moan cuts off his sentence as he comes in you, filling you up with frantic thrusts. it's warm and wet and pulsating and your moans are bouncing off the walls in harmony.

he's sweating over you as you try to catch your breath, chest heaving up and down and you finally feel his grip around your wrists loosen.

you pull them back, cracking and stretching them and you see the red marks and bruises already start to adorn them. he looks down at you and you see despite what just happened, he's still tense. considerably less tense but still tense.

which is why you fuck three more times that night.

once right on the same spot again, just ten minutes after, the floor sweaty and probably permanently stained with fluids.

the second time, you made it to the couch and he took you from behind, hips slapping against yours loudly as he dug his fingers into your waist.

and the third time you somehow ended up on the dining room table, your body laid out on the cold surface as he ate your pussy for what you believe was 40 minutes, the overstimulation from the three rounds prior almost making it impossible for you to reach an orgasm.

but once you finally came, he sat you on his cock as he slammed your hips into him on your (now broken) dining room chair.

"i'll pay for that, i promise," he says breathlessly as he walks you over to the couch, still inside you before dropping you down on the chaise. he hovers above you, observing your flushed cheeks, bruised neck and legs that were still trembling from the five orgasms that ripped through you tonight.

"it's fine," you laughed out breathily and because you're used to this, you know in about three minutes he's gonna start looking for his clothes scattered across your apartment.

you don't know why it bothered you, why he never stayed for more than ten minutes after you guys do what you do. you've accepted it, somewhat, after all of these months.

but it doesn't slightly hurt any less.

and tonight seems different. he was so obviously bothered and tense, so much pent up aggravation and anger and annoyance that he took out on your body.

and not that you were complaining....but you also think it might be helpful for him to talk about it.

"oh well if that's the case then, we might as well break the other three, right?" he jokes. or at least attempts too. because it doesn't reach his eyes.

you giggle, shaking your head at him but he sees you looking at him with this wary look of concern.

"what?" he asks and you lick your lips in hesitation.

"are...are you okay?" you squeak out, "that was...a lot."

"you didn't seem to mind," he says cockily, pulling his boxers and pants over himself again.

you squint your eyes at him slightly because true but not a real answer.

"i didn't, i just wanna make sure you're okay, that's all," you tell him.

there's a few beats of silence because he's trying to get out of his own head. but work was just such a nightmare, all of the guys fighting and having differing opinions and being put through a 3 hour meeting just for nothing but more confusion to be added to the pot.

and then he comes here, knowing that you deserve better than him but not being able to help coming back to see your smile and laugh and hear your moans of pleasure from him fucking into you.

he wants to stop, for your sake, but he's selfish and even though it pisses him off, he can't stop.

"i'm fine," he says shortly and you recoil from his tone.

it hurts his chest when he notices. and then hurts even more when despite his attitude, you try again.

"maybe you wanna eat something before you go?" you, say softly, timidly because you know it's a risk, "i could heat up some of my food from-"

"i said i'm fine, y/n," he says shortly before asking "now where's my shirt?"

hurt is swirling in you because after all of that, he's still gonna be an asshole to you.

"i don't know," you tell him shortly and he snaps his head to look at you.

"what, now you're seriously mad?" he asks in disbelief, "sorry i'm not fucking hungry."

"no, i just don't know where it is," you say quitely, padding over to your own pile of clothes and throwing on your shirt.

you spot his a few inches away and grab it, bunching it up and throwing it to him.

"here," you say, wincing when you walk back to the couch because the soreness is already present between your legs.

he deeply inhales, watching your expression twist into one of discomfort and he walks into the kitchen as he puts his shirt on.

you're flipping through the channels quietly when he suddenly hands you an ice pack wrapped in a paper towel, holding it out until you take it with a sigh.

because he's so hot and cold like this all the time. only texting you when he wants to fuck, leaving right after you use each other bodies but sometimes doing little things that leave your hurting heart warm and fluttery.

"thank you," you mumble, looking at him before training your eyes back to the tv.

you hear him sigh and he just stands there for a few moments, watching as you ice between your legs and he hates that he is who he is.

hates that before you can ask him again if he's sure he doesn't wanna stay, he wishes you a goodnight and leaves you alone in that apartment yet again.

3. 7/26/19

mingi's phone blares in his ear, awakening him from his slumber and he looks with half open eyes at the bright screen. he's sees your name and assumes it's gonna be a 1 am booty call, so he probably shouldn't answer because he has work tomorrow and is so damn tired and did just see you a few days ago.

but then he's sliding his phone open anyway because apparently he has no control over his own body when it comes to seeing you.

"hey little one," his deep, sleepy voice mumbles.

"mingi!" he hears you screech into the phone, "mingi, mingi, mingi, can you pleeeease come over when I ge-et home," you stutter and he smiles at your drunken voice.

"for you, i think i can manage," he teases, "where are you now?" he sits up in his bed because he's done with sleep now knowing you're intoxicated AND horny out in public.

"i'm at-omg i'm at the bar we met at!" you squeal, stumbling over your feet and leaning up against a tree, "do you remember that? on valentine's day, cherry still in tact!"

he tries not to burst out laughing, phone against his ear as his slips on his shoes, "now how could i forget that?"

you giggle against the tree and you think it's as tall as mingi. you tell him so.

"i doubt that," he says, "what are you doing against a tree?"

"i...perhaps am a little drunk and dizzy so i'm gonna call an-an uber after i confirm this di-ck appointment," you say through hiccups.

"don't call for an uber, i'm coming now," he tells you, grabbing his key and trying not to lose his shit at the term dick appointment leaving your mouth.

"oh...really?" you ask him, tone light and airy and you sound so happy that it makes his heart soar, "thank you, mingi."

"i'll be there soon, little one, stay against that tree and don't go near the street."

"sir yes sir!" you respond to his command before adding, "mingi?"

"y/n?"

"i like when you call me that."

he can't help the chuckle that leaves his mouth now, walking out the door and to his car with a smile on his face.

"i know you do, baby. i'm coming for you now."

"not yeeet, you're not," you sing-song to him before ending the call with a giggle and if he speeds a little bit to get there, no one's around to notice.

he's helping you stumble up the stairs to your apartment twenty minutes later, arm around your shoulders as you kick your high heels off your aching feet.

he couldn't help the way his eyes raked over your body, tight jeans and a crop top accentuating his favorite parts of you that only his eyes have seen. or at least he hopes so.

(something burns in him at the prospect that it still doesn't hold true).

"you have fun tonight?" he asks as he watches you grab a water bottle out of the fridge. you tip your head back and gulp it, the faded hickeys he gave you the other night visible as you swallow the cold liquid.

"yes!" you squeak out, "we just wanted to dance and the dj was so good! and i had three shots!" you tell him, holding up and wiggling three fingers.

"yeah?" he says, "who'd you dance with?"

even a little tipsy, you know what he's hinting at.

"my friends," you tell him and then you get a teasing glint in your eye before adding, "and this one guy. hot but not as hot as you," you tell him, running your finger along his chest.

he squints down at you, stepping closer to you and you feel yourself already getting heated.

"oh?"

"yeah," you tell him, taking the collar of his shirt in your hand and pulling him down so your mouth is by his ear, "you're even a better kisser too."

something flares through him immediately, a growl leaving his mouth as he drags you by the arm and pushes you down on the couch, water bottle flinging across the room.

"you better be joking," he warns and you smile up at him so teasingly he just wants to-

"i'm not, you really are," you tell him and he leans over so his big frame covers you completely.

"y/n," he says seriously and a tiny pout covers your lips.

"not little one?" you say, eyes wide as you look up at him and deepen your voice when you use the nickname.

"stop fucking around," he growls and he's getting angry now but you can only giggle softly at him.

"i'm kidding, mingi, gosh," you tell him, pulling him down by his collar again so your lips meet.

but he doesn't kiss you back and you furrow your eyebrows at him.

"kiss me," you whine and he looks down at you with hard eyes.

"watch yourself," he tells you before taking your chin in his hand and placing a kiss on your awaiting mouth.

you make out until your lips are sore and red, overlapping tongues and teeth sinking into each other as quiet groans and mumbles fill the room. you grind against his bulge and throw your head back with a moan, rubbing down harder and harder.

"it's so big, mingi," you breathe out, "your cock is so big and fills me so well."

he mumbles out the quietest, gruffest "shit" because he's never heard you talk like that on your own. you've become more talkative, moans of yes and curses and repeating back what he asks of you; but never have words that dirty left your mouth.

it causes him to grow harder against you, ripping off your shirt and unclasping your bra so he can dip his head and take your nipple in his mouth. he swirls his tongue around it, your hand coming to hold the back of his head as you thread your fingers through his hair.

you whine his name and his teeth graze you ever so slightly.

he moves to the other nipple as your moans ring out and you push him off to shimmy out of your jeans and soaked thong. you then turn to face him, his hair messy and lips swollen as he watches you undress. you crawl over to him, sliding off his sweatpants and you're thrilled to see he's not wearing any boxers, cock previously hard and straining right against the black material under you.

"mmm," you moan out, licking your lips at the sight of it raging and exposed before adding "take off your shirt," and he's surprised by how easily he listens to you.

when his shirt is still over his head, he feels your hot wet mouth around his dick and he hisses, quickly throwing it over the couch and meeting your eyes that are already burning into his.

he watches your head move and tongue swirl around him in a lustful daze before you pull his dick out and slap it against your lips as you catch your breath.

"my favorite cock," you tell him and he feels paralyzed by you. by your eyes and your words and the way you look with his dick slapping against your pretty wet lips.

"my favorite cock and my only cock," you clarify, "do you like that?"

"yes, baby," he moans out and he can't take his eyes off you, "i like that a lot."

"it tastes so good," you whine to him, circling the tip with your tongue again before pulling him by his shoulders and sitting him up to sit on his lap.

"but am i your only pussy?" you suddenly ask him, head turned to the side questioningly as your arms wrap around his broad shoulders. his mouth drops because you really just asked him that and he wasn't at all expecting it.

"wha-what?" he stutters, brain already fuzzy from arousal as he now stares at you.

"well...you say i can't fuck anyone else so i was just curious if the same went for you," you tell him, voice sweet and airy but your drunken self with darker motives.

you're straddling his core, your wet heat right on his raging cock and he can barely hold himself together, can barely form a sentence.

"why aren't you saying anything?" you mumble before standing, your pussy leveled with his mouth and you pull him slightly forward so he's only inches away from you.

"answer me," you demand and he moans against you at your forcefulness, slowly licking at you and circling your clit agonizingly slow before carefully moving down to your slit and wet hole.

but you pull his face away despite the immense pleasure because you need an answer before you give in to him.

"y/n..." he whines, so close to your heat that he just wants to bury his face in between your legs and taste you over and over.

"tell me," you growl, not at all used to being like this, "am i your only pussy?"

"yes baby," he says, his face moving closer to you but you pull him back by his hair.

"you're lying," you spit at him, moving so you're right above his lips and then pulling back when his tongue tries to lick you.

"i'm not, little one, i swear," he moans out, "how could i when you taste like this...i don't...want anyone else's" he whines, eyes looking up into yours and you can tell he's being sincere.

"how do i taste?" you ask him, rubbing yourself back on his face and he grabs your hips to eat and suck and lick every part of you, like his very life depends on it. like he's trying to prove you're the only one.

moans leave your mouth and your legs wobble above him, hand tangling in his hair when he finally speaks after devouring you.

"so fucking sweet, little one," he says against you, lips glistening, "so so sweet," and before he can continue licking against your slit, the back of his head is pulled upwards, forcing him back to your clit and he smiles against your wetness.

"i love when you eat my pussy," you tell him, voice breathy and strangled and your mission is long forgotten, "you make me feel so go-" a moan cuts off your sentence when he sucks your clit into his mouth at your praises, "good, so fucking good."

he's about to really go back in, about to grab you by your ass and slam you into his mouth when you pull away and squat down to sit on his cock.

"but..." you tell him, hand back on his veiny skin as you guide him inside you,"i've been wanting to ride your cock since you first fucked me."

because it's true.

and even when you're on top, he's the one controlling you, moving you by gripping on to your waist or rocking your hips into him.

which is fine for you on any other day.

but today, you can't hold back anymore. you were secretly so fed up and annoyed at yourself tonight. because you really couldn't even think about hooking up with someone at the bar.

all because of this man.

the man who refuses to stay with you or cuddle or see you outside of this apartment.

the man who you think likes you a little bit as a person but likes what your pussy and mouth do even more.

so you drank and drank until your low tolerance said enough and then you naturally felt the need to see him. but you figured now would be the time to assert yourself in some way, with liquid courage and your ever present need for him to find out if his little rule went both ways.

"i wanna do it myself," you tell him as your wet, hot core hovers over his rock hard cock, "will you let me do that? let me ride you all by myself?"

he swallows thickly because he wants to just thrust up into you and take your tight pussy the way he always does. but you're so sweet and polite and ready for him that he can only nod his head.

"let's see what you got, little one."

and right as the words leave his mouth, you sink down onto him. you both moan at the sensation, not used to this deep angle as you rock into him slowly, experimentally and his hands are already at your hips ready to guide you.

but you grab them and hold them, placing them on your chest because you figure he won't move them off when he's got your hard nipples to play with.

"no, mingi," you scold, rolling your hips slowly as you trail kisses down his neck, "don't move your hands, mmkay?" you mumble against his skin.

he doesn't answer, just kneads your boobs with his large hands and you sink down on his cock again, causing a sharp exhale to leave his nose.

"okay?"

he shakes his head at you because you're so cute and pure but also so fucking bold and demanding tonight.

"who do you think you are," he says, almost as if he's talking to himself and it's all the motivation you need to start bouncing up and down on him.

you throw your head back at the feeling, your boobs rocking in his hands as his legs spread out underneath you.

"fuck," you hear him grunt out but you barely hear him because you're so wet and he's so big, filling you up like you're a perfect fit. you clench around him because he's so thick around your tightness, your bouncing and rolling steady with him inside you.

"oh..oh my god," you moan out, head thrown back as you get yourself off on him. you grip his broad shoulders as your legs start to burn and you've never heard this many deep groans leave his mouth.

but he can't help it, watching you take control and ride him with your face so blissed out by his cock.

"holyshit baby," he grunts again and he tries to put his hands on your waist but you grab them, shoving them back to your chest.

"don't," you whine out and you find your pace again. grinding and bouncing and rolling, his moans and groans and curses filling the air and they only fuel you to roll your hips more.

that and your own immense pleasure coursing through your veins.

"this...feels so fucking good, oh my god," you whine, "your cock is so-" a loud moan rips through you, your clit stimulated from the position and your nipples erect from mingi's hands rubbing mercilessly at them.

"my cock is so what little one?" he asks, his voice strained as he looks down at you with sweat glistening on your face and chest.

"it's so fucking big and it," a moan slips out of your mouth before you continue, "fucks me so good," you cry out and the tightening in your core you're so familiar with hits you. "oh my go-god, i'm gonna...mingi, come, please," you beg, frantically rolling your hips so you get him to release first.

"i'm close, baby," he grunts out, taking your nipple in his mouth and licking over it; you nearly come on the spot and you think that's why he does it.

"please, please, please, mingi," you're all but screaming now, "come in me, i want you to come in my pussy. it's all yours, it's all yours so please-"

you feel a hot burst in your core followed by his loud grunts in your ear and you're finally able to rub out your own orgasm.

the clenching of your core, his hot release, your moans filling the air is almost all becoming too much as you collapse against him. your face is in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily against him and his hands finally make their way to your waist.

he squeezes it softly, rubbing over the smooth skin with his thumbs before picking you up and laying you on the couch gently. he leans over you, wiping the sweat off your face with his hand before plopping down next to you.

your mind is fuzzy from the alcohol and post orgasm daze, leg stretching out and falling into his naked lap. you both sit there for what feels like hours, hearts slowing and breaths evening out until your leg falls off his lap when he stands.

your stomach plummets because you know it's that time of the night and you blink back the emotional tears you're just gonna blame the alcohol on.

"are you leaving?" you ask him quietly, laying on your side as he puts on his sweatpants.

he bends down in front of the couch so you're at eye level, his hand raking through your sweaty hair.

"you know i am," he says quietly, eyes roaming your face that falls into the most heartbreaking frown.

"why do you always leave," your voice comes out in a mumble, "you always leave so fast and it hurts my feelings."

your mind is so fuzzy with tiredness, eyes fighting to stay open so you don't notice how sad your confession makes him.

"i don't mean to, little one," he says softly, "it's just...what i do." what i have to do.

it's a lousy excuse, lousy excuse for what used to be him being inconsiderate and uncaring and then morphing into something he does now to protect himself.

because he knows if he holds you, if he gets one taste of anything other than sex with you, it's over. he's over and you'll have the power to completely ruin him.

"well i wish you wouldn't," you whine before asking, "can you at least...bring me to bed?

he licks his dry lips, looking down at you and nodding after a quiet, "please," leaves your mouth, eyes wide and glossy. he picks you up bridal style, your head against his bare chest as he carries you into your bedroom.

he pulls back the comforter and places you down before covering you with it, watching as you snuggle further into your bed with a content sigh.

"this is nice..." you mumble and your eyes pop open to look at him. they look even more teary in your dimly lit room and he's hoping that maybe his own eyes are just playing tricks on him.

"you good now?" his eyes roam over your sleepy face one more time before he turns to leave.

"wait," you mumble, eyes feeling so heavy as you struggle to keep them open before you ask, "can you please stay with me?"

"y/n..." he whispers into the dark, voice strained and shaky and he feels his heart breaking but your quiet, sleepy voice continues.

"i know you won't...but i wish you would, just once," you mumble and then five seconds later, your breaths turn even and you're fast asleep.

4. 9/18/19

"ah shit, i left my wallet at home," the boy across from you says and you sharply inhale because you didn't think this date could go any worse. but of course here's the universe just continuously proving you wrong, about to send you into a downward spiral.

"oh," you say quietly, looking at the total of $65.31 and swallowing your pride because you never wanna see this guy again. "it's fine, i'll just pay it."

"you sure?" he asks and you quickly slide your card in the bill pocket before flagging over the waitress.

"yeah, no worries. it happens," you say before thanking the lady who looks at you sympathetically.

she watched the whole date unravel into a disaster of the night: from him being 30 minutes late to cutting you off so he could order your food and then proceeding to boast about himself and his six figure job for 45 minutes.

"thanks, babe." you swallow down the queasiness fighting it's way up your throat, "maybe i can pay you back some other way. like at my place?" he suggests, eyes staring at you like they're supposed to be seductive and alluring when he's really just appearing cross-eyed.

"uh..i don't think so," you tell him, smiling at the waitress before you sign and quickly stand up, "it's getting late so i'm...i should probably go."

he scoffs at you, like you were somehow the one wasting his time and conning him into a free meal.

"nice meeting you," you lie through your teeth and he mumbles something that sounds like "yeah, whatever" before you scurry out to your car.

the whole drive home, you hold back frustrated tears because what the fuck.

this was your 4th first date in three weeks, curtesy of your friends' incessant need to hook you up with their coworkers or friends of friends and you've had enough.

had enough of the rejection and bad dates or the "you're really nice but..." and without fail, every single dinner ending with the obvious inclination they're just doing this to get laid.

and it's not like in the back of your mind, you're refusing for any other reason than the men being so boring and self-absorbed and just plain awful.

so that's how you find yourself texting mingi the second you park your car, running upstairs to shower some of tenseness out of your muscles while hoping the rest will be fucked out.

you're still in your towel when he knocks on the door and you let him in, eyes roaming your body and a smirk crosses his face.

"well, this is awfully convenient," he says and you roll your eyes with a chuckle, dropping your towel and pulling him in your bedroom by his shirt.

"hey, you're gonna stretch it," he whines and it's not like he actually cares when you're pushing him down on your bed.

"too bad."

you straddle his hips, bending down to kiss him and you two start doing what you always do. it's so natural at this point, the way your lips and tongues collide against one another.

his hands come around to grip your bare ass, grinding you into his growing bulge and you bite down on his lip before soothing it with your tongue.

the more you make out, the more clothes he sheds off until you're both pressed up against each other's naked bodies, the sounds of sloppy kisses and muffled moans filling your small bedroom.

you're about to pepper kisses down his neck, mark him up like he always does to you, when he suddenly grabs your thighs harshly and spins you around until you're sitting on his face. his tongue delves into your wet opening as you let out a high pitched whine at the sudden feeling.

"shit," you moan out and you feel him smirk against your pussy until he commands, "suck."

you lean down, grinding yourself on his face in the process before taking his dick in your mouth. you suck him off, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue as your hand joins to jerk him off. a moan falls from your lips as he sucks your clit into his warm mouth and it vibrates against his cock. there's something about the way you're moaning around him, muffled and silenced and full that has you dripping over his mouth.

you feel his finger make its way into you and you bob your head faster after spitting over the tip of his dick, sucking it slowly, and his hips start jerking into your mouth.

you're matching each other's pace, trying to get the other to come first and you feel an orgasm coming on already. desperate to come but even more desperate to win, you slide yourself off his mouth and sit on his dick backwards, ass in his face as you start to ride him.

you know you're gonna be victorious because he's groaning and cursing and slapping your ass, squeezing one of your cheeks as he throws his head back into one of the pillows.

"jesus christ, baby," he says, voice strangled and wobbly, "keep going."

your arms fall out in front of you to ground you, hips rolling and twisting and then bouncing and you moan out into the sticky air.

"so big," you whine out because this angle could be borderline painful if you move the wrong way, his cock feeling like it's lodged in your lower stomach and puncturing vital organs.

"so good," he praises, gripping your ass and you know it's gonna have bright red finger marks, "so fucking good."

"come for me, mingi," you whine, "come for me if i'm so good to you," and 3 seconds later, you listen in utter delight as he's grunting and groaning above you, his hot come releasing into you as you roll your hips slowly to drag out his orgasm.

but you barely have time to celebrate because he pulls you up and off him, fingers on your clit and mouth around your nipple as he brings you to your own orgasm shortly after.

he watches as you try to catch your breath below him, eyes shut and arms splayed out as your stress and annoyance vanishes and is instantly replaced with sadness and disappointment.

because you can distract yourself all you want, drown yourself in the pleasure of mingi's cock and mouth, but the high will wear off and the realization that no one wants you will sink in. not the assholes you go on dates with and especially not the asshole who's about to bolt out of here in five minutes.

he sees your eyes are twinged with sadness, glassy and staring off into space and he bites his lip because he doesn't know what to make of it.

"what happened little one?" he asks, thumb wiping over your lower lip, "upset you didn't get to come on my tongue? the night is still young."

you know he's joking and being light-hearted, eyes bright and peering down at you expectantly for another round or three but you can't stop yourself from snapping.

"oh is it? i thought for sure you'd be rushing out of here by now."

his face drops at your tone and his eyebrows furrow, unsure of what to even say to you. because there's nothing he can say.

but he also doesn't know where that came from.

"what?"

"maybe you can tell me" you suddenly blurt out, "why no one sticks around, not even for a second fucking date since, you know, you're so well rehearsed in leaving."

now he knows he's definitely missing something but can only watch as you start to have a breakdown, his own chest bubbling up with guilt and confusion and anger.

his eyes are dark and narrowed when he spits, "why are being like this right now?"

"because i'm so tired of feeling alone," you tell him and maybe it was a deeper answer than he was expecting because he looks taken back. "i'm so tired of looking like a fucking idiot when my friends keep setting me up on stupid dates and i have to tell them what a shitshow it was."

"so you're taking it out on me because you had a bad date?" he snaps, "i'm struggling to see how that's my fault."

"but then there's you, mingi," you say, sitting up and throwing him a harsh look, "i give you everything because, well, how the fuck can i not and you still fly out that door, still don't fucking want me and only come back because of my pussy."

he reaches over and grabs you by the jaw roughly, staring down at you with dark, fiery eyes. "stop." i want you too much, that's the problem.

you pull your face away, "you stop. it's true and you know it."

tears prick behind your eyes and you feel so stupid for doing this. you should've never invited him over in the first place because you knew you were gonna end up having a pity party.

his hand makes its way back to your jaw, thumb rubbing over your soft skin and forcing your eyes to meet his.

"you don't know anything," he mumbles so quietly you can barely make out the words. but you can only advert your eyes from him because you feel so shitty and sad and pathetic.

but then he's moving your face again, looking right at you when he softly asks, "what do you want me to do?" and you feel a tear slip down your face.

he peers down at you and his heart is breaking because he can tell you're hurting tonight, can tell you're truly upset and he doesn't want you to feel like you're ruining anything between you two.

but he's also being mindful of himself and his heart, attempting to find a happy medium inside of him.

"little one, why are you crying?" and you don't know if it's the name or his soft tone that causes the tears to pour from your eyes, pushing him back and turning away from him.

you want to tell him you want him to hold you, to please stay with you so you can burrow yourself into his chest and surround yourself in his warmth and fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

but if you outright ask him and he still denies you, your tears will never stop tonight.

so you mumble out "please just go," but you can feel him still sitting beside you minutes later.

his heart is torn in two trying to decide what to do, decide whether to stay and wipe your tears and put you to bed or do what he always does and be a cowardly asshole.

"y/n, i'm trying to help," he says, placing his hand on your bare back and rubbing his thumb back and forth ever so slightly, "i hate seeing you like this," he mumbles softly and he's not even sure if you hear him.

because he only hears your quiet crying, breathing erratic and shoulders shaking and he just wants to throw himself around you and force you to talk out your feelings with him.

"then leave," you tell him, "i...i shouldn't have asked you to come tonight when i'm like this."

but i want to be here for you.

and if speaking the truth were that easy, those words would've left his mouth and maybe resolved the issue. but, because he's mingi and because the truth is often too hard to say, he places a lingering kiss on your head, one of the first chaste kisses he's ever given you, before putting on his clothes and leaving you to cry yourself to sleep.

5. 11/30/19

"did i mention that i missed this pussy," mingi mumbles against your thigh and you instinctively widen your legs because apparently not getting laid for the two weeks you were abroad really did a number on the both of you.

"only about 50 times," you quip because you've honestly lost count of how many times you guys have had sex today.

he spits between your legs at your tone, using his finger to swirl it around the sensitive area before lapping at your clit. you're so overstimulated and raw, voice scratchy from your screams and wrists sore from your hands currently being bound by his tie on your headboard.

but you can't stop the pleasurable moans that rip through you, your hands flailing against the tightly tied knot and you would've gone away sooner if you had known this was a form of punishment.

"can't believe you made me go that long without it," he says, his finger running teasingly up and down your slit, "you know how many times i had to get off with my own hand. had to think of you and this pussy just so i could come."

"but it's such a nice hand," you whine sarcastically and he halts all movement down there, pulling his face and fingers away and now you're about to pay dearly for your attitude.

"you came back a little fucking brat," he spits, tightening the tie around your hands, "now you're not coming."

but you're still stimulated and dripping and desperate to come, crying out and begging and pleading. but he only sits next to you so he's by your head, yanking your face down to his cock and shoving it in your mouth.

you gag at the sudden intrusion, jaw still aching from the last three times you blew him but you persist, licking and sucking and drooling on him as he thrusts into your mouth.

you moan around him the more he talks to you, the more he curses at you and tells you "this should fucking shut you up."

your hands are pulling against the tie because you want to touch him, want to stroke the parts of him your mouth can't reach and tease the tip of his dick but it only starts to chafe your skin.

"so...close," he moans out and his stamina is something to be commended, "your mouth is so- i'm gonna-" and you promptly hear him moan again. luckily there's not too much of a taste, his cock completely drained empty but what does make it past you make a show out of enjoying because you have to be good now.

a tiny noise leaves the back of your throat, a mix between a pant and a whine, as you lick your lips, eyes shut like you're savoring the taste of him and you bite your bottom lip when your gaze meets his.

"you taste so good," you say, voice breathy and eyes rolling back and you're resisting the urge to smirk when his mouth dives in and his tongue finishes you off between your legs.

you come with one last scream, borderline painful from how sensitive you are and you push his head away with your hands.

"i'm gonna fucking die if i come again," you mumble a few moments later, laid out on your back with your knees bent and drenched hair splayed away from your sticky body.

"agreed," mingi says, reaching over to untie your wrists and you had forgotten they were even bounded. he cringes when he sees the skin is red and chafed, deep indentions and he rubs his thumb over them gently.

"jesus christ, little one, we might have to start using a safe word," he says, examining them thoroughly, "do they hurt?"

you pull them back to stretch them and you wince, rubbing your own hand over one of them. "a little bit...but it's okay....i liked it," you admit, cheeks flushed and voice quiet and he lets out a small laugh next to you.

"still so shy after being such a cockslut, huh," he teases, his face leaning in close to yours and you push him away with a giggle.

"don't use that word!" you squeal and he smiles down at you because fuck did he miss you.

"really though, are you good," he asks, "because that was like a 6 hour sex marathon."

"oh, i know," you tell him because you can absolutely feel the soreness coming on, "you're completely empty, bud."

his head snaps to look at you and you give him an innocent smile, stretching your body before rolling over with a groan.

"i'm okay though, just very tired now," you mumble, closing your eyes and his roam over your face. because he notices that he always does that, takes in every part of your face when your eyes are closed and tries to stop the fluttering in his chest, stop his body from reaching out to touch your hair or wrap his arms around you.

and if he wasn't already sure that he really liked you, the time apart made it obvious.

"would i be able to shower quick before i go?" he asks, shaking himself from his thoughts, "my hot water isn't working and i definitely don't need a cold one after tonight."

you giggle sleepily against your pillow, mumbling a "sure," and then you pull the blanket over yourself and succumb to your exhaustion.

he watches with a smile as you lose yourself to sleep before padding off to your bathroom. the hot water pelts his sweaty body as he stands under it, eyes shut as his exhausted body relaxes under the heat.

he squeezes a bit of shampoo in his hand, bringing his hand up to his nose to smell it and there's something strange about using your soap; almost as if the lavender vanilla scent should only belong to you. but it's nice, being surrounded by the smell he associates with you. it does something to his chest, his heart tugging in a way he's been trying to avoid for months now.

but it's getting harder to ignore. getting harder to leave you here alone and act as if you're not way way more than a friends with benefit.

he tries to push you out of his thoughts because he's not gone yet. he's still here with you, still gets to look at you and touch you and smell you. and that very thought has him speeding up the shower, lathering his body with soap before washing it off and enjoying the heat for a few more moments.

he peeks into the bedroom, towel wrapped around his waist, to see your body is still and assumes you're still sleeping. he quietly tiptoes around the sea of clothes to find his, slipping on his pants before he hears a little whine.

he looks over, seeing your eyes are still shut but face now slightly pinched together. he keeps his gaze on you for a few seconds before searching for his shirt and throwing it over his head.

it's within those moments you start silently thrashing, legs twitching and arms flailing until he hears a broken "stop" leave your lips.

"y/n?" he says softly, waking over to peer down at you in bed.

your brows furrow even more, eyes scrunched tightly and face in a grimace as you start shaking your head side to side.

"no, no, no," you weakly mumble out, "stop. please stop!"

"y/n," he says louder, placing his hand on your cheek. but your thrashing quickly pushes it off and he moves it to your shoulder.

"wake up, baby," he coos, shaking your body, "c'mon."

a loud groan rips through your mouth, almost resembling a cry and he shakes you one more time before your eyes pop open.

you don't even know why you're crying, heart racing and brain fuzzy as you try to piece together what just happened.

"what the hell happened," mingi asks you, his hand back on your cheek as he wipes your tears off with his thumb.

"i don't-i don't even know," you stutter breathlessly, "i just heard your voice and then i-" it's so hard to breathe so you try to catch your breath, in your nose, out your mouth, and he pulls you into his body on instinct.

he mimics your breathing in your ear, in and out as he holds the back of your head with his hand and he doesn't think he'll be able to leave you tonight. doesn't want to leave you like this and is willing to put his stupid selfish feelings aside for a night to give you the comfort you need and deserve.

you hesitantly move your head to his chest, shakily breathing out and your body visibly relaxes when he allows your touch, welcomes it even when he puts his arm around you and hums again your hair.

"does that happen a lot?" he asks.

"mmm, not really," you tell him even though your sleeping habits have always been questionable, " but when it does, i always wake up so upset and...i never know why, can never remember," you explain softly, eyes feeling heavy because he's warm and big and you've wanted this with him for so long.

his lips brush against your head, arm tightening around you protectively. "i'm sorry, baby," he says softly and the affection in his tone has you a blushing mess, stomach churning and heart pounding.

his heart warms when you snuggle further into his chest as you both lay there silently, your hand making its way to draw shapes on his chest.

you're so tired and calm, so content with the current position that you don't even realize you're mumbling a few moments later, "are you gonna stay?"

his usual reaction would be to bolt, to stutter out some lame excuse and deal with his sinking heart.

but he's admitting defeat, admitting that he can't leave you tonight and probably fell in love with you somewhere along the way and has been way too scared to deal with it.

he's about to breathe out a yes when his phone blares in his sweatshirt pocket on the floor and he huffs because really, what god fucking awful timing.

you kisses your head in apology and you hold back a sigh when he moves you off him, going over to pick up his phone.

"what?" you hear him snap and a frantic male voice on the phone is speaking a mile a minute. you watch his face morph into one of shock and annoyance and then disappointment as his gaze moves to you and a tiny pout covers his lips.

"i'll be there in 10," he grumbles out, hanging up the phone with a huff and making his way over to you. he kneels down, hands running over your hair gently as his soft eyes stare at you.

"i gotta go, little one, i'm so sorry," he says and you can hear the genuine sincerity in his voice, "are you okay? i can...i can come back after if you need."

your own hand moves to his cheek, rubbing your thumb over the soft skin and you shake your head even though your heart is soaring at the gesture.

"it's okay, i'm good now," you tell him, "i hope everything's okay."

he nods before bending down to press his lips to your forehead. "it's fine, my friend's are just drunk assholes and need someone responsible," he tells you with a chuckle and you roll your eyes.

"and they called you?" you tease and he can't even pretend to be mad when you're smiling at him like that.

"sh, don't be a brat," he tells you, trailing his lips down to meet yours in a peck, "or else you know what'll happen next time."

+1: 1/10/20

it's like you guys came full circle, sitting side by side at the bar stools you first met almost a year.

"now, see, it was a good thing i embarrassed you after all!" your friend remarks while ordering a round of shots, "if i hadn't, who knows how bad those cobwebs would've gotten in your-"

"shut up!" you screech, covering her mouth with your hand as mingi chuckles next to you.

"i mean...she's not wrong," he teases, looking at your flushed cheeks and remembering your first night together, "because you were waiting for me, weren't you, little one?"

you feel yourself burning, squinting your eyes at his hushed words because you know exactly what he's thinking about.

"you shut up, too," you growl as your friend shoves two shots in your hands.

"to a valentine's day fuck!" your friend screams, her and mingi clinking their glasses together as you sit there completely unamused.

you take down the liquor with a sneer, your throat burning and you nearly vomit all over the bar. but then twenty minutes later, with the alcohol coursing through your veins and music blasting, you and your friends are dancing in the middle of the bar.

it's crowded tonight and there's far too many sweaty people but it's still fun. laughing with your friends as you spin and grind and jump around with no care in the world.

and for half that night, that's how it goes. just fun and carefree and tame until you feel a hand on your ass that you know isn't the one you're so used to because of it's size.

you snap your head back to see a short, stocky guy attempting to grind his hips on you. he's wobbling because you can tell he's absolutely gone, eyes glossy and forehead sweaty and you move closer to your friend who yells a slur of curses in his face.

"fuck off, i want your friend," he snaps at her and you give him a little shove.

"well, i'm not interested," you tell him, smacking his hand off before turning around to face your friend. "do you wanna get another-"

your words get cut off when your arm is nearly pulled from the socket, trapped between the wall and the man you just rejected.

"c'mon, babe, you're so pretty," he coos, running a clammy finger down your face and neck, about to circle your little bit of cleavage exposed, "i'll treat you-"

he's on the floor and away from you in a second, mingi putting himself between you both as he stands over the groaning boy. you can feel the anger radiating off of him, fists clenched and jaw ticking as he kicks him once in the stomach.

"don't fucking touch her," he growls, "i should break your god damn hand, you know that?"

he turns around to survey you, hand on your waist and concerned eyes roaming over your face.

"are you okay?" he asks and you see the fire behind his eyes.

"i'm fine," you say even though your racing heart has finally slowed and you still feel sick to your stomach at those intrusive hands on you, "just a drunk asshole."

"it doesn't matter," is all he spits, "he shouldn't have touched you."

and then he quickly turns back around, the man slowly getting up so he's not at all prepared for the punch the connects right into his nose.

"mingi, stop," you whine, "it's fine, you're gonna get us kicked out."

"so what, he can't just touch what's mine," he blurts out and your eyebrows shoot up because he's usually only saying that in his dominant sex crazed state.

but then you think you're letting your own feelings fill you with false hope, reading way more into this than you should. you let out a sigh, pulling him closer to you and looking up at him.

"it's fine now, you're here," you say softly because you just want him to calm down, "let's dance."

he bites his lip because he never dances in public but also can't risk someone else touching you against your will.

so that's exactly how you two find yourselves in a corner, grinding to the beat and forgetting that you're in a bar full of people.

your arms are looped around his neck, hands playing with his hair and his hands squeezing your hips lightly. your head falls against his chest when you feel him growing hard under you.

"big," you stupidly mumble out and he chuckles lowly, hand worming over a few inches below the button your jeans.

"for you, little one." his hips press further into yours, rubbing more purposefully against you, "always for you," he mumbles and you make the quietest moan in the back of your throat.

his hips and his voice and that god damn nickname have you dragging him into the bathroom, locking the single stall and pulling him down to crash your lips together.

he smiles against them because finally before picking you up, pressing you against the wall as you intertwine your legs around his hips.

both a little tipsy, it goes a lot sloppier than intended. he nearly stumbles over his feet and you slam your head against the concrete but you guys never break the kiss, tongues and teeth clashing as you moan loudly into one another's mouths.

"please fuck me," you whine into his ear, moving against him as you lick down his neck. he walks you over to the sink counter, quickly pulling down your pants and thong as you lean back and spread your legs for him to get a better look.

"that pussy," he groans as he pulls down his own pants, giving you his hand to spit on so he can wet his cock. he jerks it off a few times staring at your wetness, eyes finally moving to yours where he sees you sitting back patiently with glossy, dilated pupils and your teeth in your lip.

"please," you groan again and he rips you off the sink to put you on his cock, back up against the cold wall again and you tighten your hold around him.

it's fast and dirty and hard, skin slapping on skin that echoes throughout the tiny bathroom.

"oh, my god," you moan out loudly and he thrusts up once, deep into you.

"don't be so loud, i don't want anyone hearing you," he grunts out, "don't want anyone hearing what's mine."

even tipsy and horny and in the middle of being fucked out, you noticed he used that word again.

"i'm yours," you repeat quietly and he growls, fingers digging into your hips as he stills inside of you.

"what the fuck," you whine out, rocking your own hips against him but he's just staring into your eyes, chest heaving up and down like he's trying so hard to control himself.

"be mine," is what he grunts out and your eyes widen. despite the shock and confusion and your rapid heart picking up its pace, you still clench around him.

"what?"

"be mine. completely mine, officially," he says and you can't believe he's doing this now, with his cock buried inside you in a dirty public bathroom.

and as sick as it is, your answer is immediate. you don't even have to think about it.

"i always was, you idiot," you say, rocking yourself into him more, "now just fuck me."

and he has to meet your demands so the tears threatening to sting his eyes don't surface and make a mockery out of his reputation.

but it doesn't stop him from praising you, asking you to repeat if you're really his over and over again until you're both moaning in unison at your releases.

you lean your head against the wall, his resting on your shoulder as he's still inside you while you try to catch your breath. he takes you off his cock, pulling up your clothes before his own and looking down at you.

"did you really mean that?" is the first thing he asks and you furrow your eyebrows because is he that stupid?

"yes," you tell him and it's so matter of fact he finds himself wanting to blurt his next words out.

but he waits. waits until you guys leave the bathroom and say your goodbyes, waits while you guys hold hands in the uber and stumble in your apartment together.

and then when you both lay out on your couch, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply on the lips.

"i love you," he says, so soft and sincere and genuinely that tears almost spring to your eyes. "i love you and i'm so sorry it took me this long to realize."

you look at him in shock because you never would have dreamed this confession would be happening between the two of you. never would have dreamed of him looking at you with watery eyes and a terrified expression as he shows you his most vulnerable side.

"i know i've been stupid and obnoxious and sometimes just a fucking asshole but i promise if you let me explain-"

"i love you too," you say, cutting him off because it's as simple as that, "i thought it was fairly obvious but..."

and that's when the first tiny tear falls from his eye and his natural instinct is to quickly wipe at it because he's not used to crying in front of anyone.

but he wants to let that guard down, show you it's always been more than just sex and pleasure.

"y/n..." he says and you shake your head at him, softly smiling as tiny tears continue to leak from his eyes.

"you're an ugly crier," you tease, scooting over so you can wipe his wet face before pulling him into a hug. you're almost positive he doesn't let you go for a half hour, arms tight and warm around you as his head rests in the crook of your neck.

but you relish in the feeling because he's finally letting you see this side of him and while you love fucking his brains out, you also want to see him break down and show you any sort of deeper emotion.

"can i just ask you one thing?" you ask when he pulls back and he nods his head.

"anything, baby."

"why wouldn't you ever stay over?" you squeak out and the question alone causes anxiety to bubble up in you, "why would you always leave so soon after?"

he swallows the lump in his throat and intertwines your fingers together, thumb brushing over hand.

"because i knew this would happen, i knew you were it for me and that scared me," he tells you, "i knew if i held you and stayed with you and spent more time...i was gonna fall in love because how couldn't i," he muses and he's being so honest and raw that it's hurting your heart in the best possible way.

"i'm sorry that it hurt you, baby, i'm sorry for how much i hurt you and that i made you feel...shitty sometimes," he say, "but i promise i'm gonna be the best boyfriend i can be, okay? please-"

you cut him off with a kiss, pushing him back and jumping into his lap. it's like all your other kisses but also something incredibly new, passionate and loving and so so sweet that you have to rip yourselves off each other for air.

"I know you will," you tell him, pecking both of his cheek sweetly and smiling when you see a blush on his cheeks.

"look at that, you're a boyfriend for one whole minute and you're already blushing!" you squeal and then he really goes and giggles and you're shocked this giant baby ever had you so fooled.

he squints his eyes playfully at you, pushing you down on your back so he's holding himself above you and dipping down to meet your lips again.

"we'll see who's blushing in ten minutes, little one," he says and it's safe to say boyfriend mingi is just as talented as friends with benefits mingi.

except this time afterwards, he carries you in the bedroom and does all that aftercare nonsense he swore was annoying and stupid but is actually making him so stupidly happy. cleaning you up between your legs and taking off your runny makeup, worming his way to litter tiny pecks all over your clean face as you giggle against him before finally pulling you into his chest and smiling when you cuddle your:self deeper into him.

you fall asleep to a mantra of "i love you"'s, his hand trailing up and down your shoulder until the smell of burning food wakes you hours later.

and it's something you grow incredibly used to because only two weeks after that do you open your door to find mingi in the hallway, holding five boxes stacked on top of each other with the stupidest smile on his face.

"what's all this?" you ask him, standing on your tippy toes to grab two of them and placing it down in your living room.

"the rest of my stuff is in the car," he tells you matter of factly, pecking your nose with a kiss before looking at your confused expression.

"did i forget to mention i'm moving in?"

#mingi #mingi smut #mingi angst #mingi fluff #ateez #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #mingi fic #ateez fic

1K notes · View notes

bohemianrequiem · 3 years ago

Text

Here’s my Codeswapped gift for @nemesisadraste ! I had so much fun writing for Sam and expanding upon her relationship with Odd and the other Lyoko Warriors. I hope you have just as much fun reading it!

Prompt - Sam becomes a Lyoko Warrior

If you had told Sam earlier today that her evening would be taking a turn for the unexpected, she wouldn’t have doubted it-

Things were always that way when Odd was around and that was how she liked it. The unpredictability of their dates as a simple plan for dinner would turn into an hours long romp through the market district of town, both of them perusing clothes neither one could afford, was just another part of the fun of their relationship. Funnily enough, she had come to begin expecting these little pleasant surprises the more time they spent together. However, there was another trend that Sam was beginning to develop over the last few weeks.

First, Odd’s phone would ring and would with his nonchalant greeting of “What’s up,”followed by the name of one of his various friends from Kadic. Usually Jeremy or Ulrich, sometimes Yumi, and very rarely a strange girl named Aelita would be on the other end. After a moment, Odd’s brow would furrow, his jaw would set, and an uncharacteristic seriousness would envelop his entire person. “For real? Yeah, I’ve got it. On my way.” He would then flip his cell shut and turn his gaze towards Sam, his features slowly softening to the goofy boy she’d come to care so much for.

“Sam, I know what you’re gonna say-“ He placed his hands up in mock surrender, a worried chuckle already slipping past his lips before he could even finish his sentence.

“Let me guess, you’ve gotta go?” Sam sighed, more out of habit than any actual disappointment. Like she’d said, this was becoming a frequent portion of their date nights. At least this time they’d actually got to enjoy a movie together and make it halfway through dinner. Her burger half eaten and now being laid down on a plastic red tray, she shrugged. “Do what you gotta do, man. Text me when you get back to the dorms for the night?”

Odd blinked once, then twice. “A-Are you sure?” Obviously surprised at her lack of frustration at his need to preemptively end their date. Sam just waved her hand in dismissal, as if pushing the worry out of existence.

“Yeah, Dude. I know Kadic’s got you guys doing hella group projects this semester. Go help your friends.” At least, that was the excuse Odd had used before. She might have believed it the first time or two, even if schoolwork wasn’t usually that high up on Odd’s list of priorities, but something about his behavior recently had clued her into the fact that this was about something much bigger than school. “So, go on. I’ll be fine making it back to my place.”

Odd took his bottom lip between his front teeth, a habit that Sam had long since stopped trying to break him of, then nodded. “Thanks, Sam. You’re the best.” He gave a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek, then dashed off down the sidewalk. “I’ll text you later, okay?!” He called out over his shoulder as he rounded the first corner.

Another thing Sam had come to accept about Odd was that he was a terrible liar. Case in point, he had literally just ran off in the opposite direction of his school. After a couples minutes of anxious internal debate, she began to follow.

~~~

When Sam arrived at the old factory on the outskirts of the river that cut through town, she had initially worried that she’d lost Odd’s trail and accidentally followed someone else’s. After all, what would Odd be doing at some old place like this?

However, maybe this place wasn’t quite as abandoned as she thought. Despite the paint having chipped off the walls decades ago and piles of scrap iron cropping up throughout the interior, the floor looked relatively clear of dust and other small debris. Somebody, or maybe a groups of somebodies, had obviously been coming through here quite frequently to keep the dust and other objects from settling. That and the ropes hanging from the ceiling, one of which was still gently swaying from side to side as if it had just been handled, clued her into things not being quite what they appeared.

Deciding not to trust the rickety old elevator, which likely didn’t even run anymore, Sam followed one such dust-free path from the main floor of the factory down to another area full of old machines. They looked like the ones used in car factories to put heavy pieces of metal on the chassis of vehicles together, but had obviously been in a state of disuse just as long as much of the factory.

From this room, a winding trail that many times lead Sam to various dead-ends finally culminated in her opening a door into a spacious computer room, complete with some type of projection emanating from the center of the room. A few steps in and she could hear the frantic clicking and clacking of a keyboard across the room. Hidden by the sizable monitor in front of his face, a young boy spoke little.

“Okay, Odd. You should be able to see the construct now.....Yes, I know it’s huge, but you need to get inside of it and regroup with Yumi and Ulrich. I’ve lost contact with them for exactly-“ He checked his watch. “Ten minutes now. And communication with Aelita is spotty, at best. It’s up to you to....to uh....” His eyes lifted from his watch’s face to see Sam standing just a handful of steps into the room.

“Yo,” She put her hand in the area in a tentative wave. “Jeremy, right? I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say this isn’t your social studies project, is it?”

Sam swore she could see a vein in Jeremy’s forehead pulse as he slowly sat backwards and readjusted a microphone attached to his earpiece. “Odd? Were you aware that your girlfriend is here at the factory?”

“Hey! I’m right here!” Was he seriously just going to ignore her and act like they weren’t even in the same room together? “Is that really Odd on the other end? Let me talk to him.” She took a number of determined steps towards Jeremy, the boy defensively putting his hands up around his earpiece.

“No, no, I don’t think she’s infected, but she does look awfully upset. What’d you do to her this time, Romeo?” He stood up and put his hands out placatingly. “Samantha, please-“

“It’s Sam,” She interrupted as her march came to a standstill in front of Jeremy, placing her hands on her hips and impatiently tapping her foot. “Never Samantha.”

“Sam. Right.” He nervously adjusted his glasses. “I know this is gonna be difficult to understand, but you can’t talk to Odd right now. He’s on a very important mission right now. Odd’s still here at the factory with us, at least technically, but you’re not going to be able to see him until he’s finished.”

A mission? Was this some kind of code or was this dude seriously losing his marbles? “What do you mean he’s here but he’s not? Why can’t Odd just tell me all this himself, without all the lying and hiding?”

“He’s not hiding, Sam, he’s doing something extremely important. Come look.” Jeremy motioned her over to the computer monitor behind him. As she took in the many blinking lights and constantly changing lines of code, Jeremy sat down and relaxed. “See? He’s right here, located outside of this massive structure the geography of which I’ve been mapping for days now. The only problem is that I can’t quite figure out what’s inside of it. That’s where Odd and the others come in.”

“The others? You mean Yumi, Ulrich, and Canada girl, right?” Sam shook her head. “Wait, wait, so you expect me to believe that Odd’s inside there? Inside the computer?”

Jeremy nodded. “Exactly.”

Sam had come to accept a lot of things about Odd: from his personality, to his hobbies, but this went beyond all of that completely. Just as she was about to voice her disbelief again, a frantic beeping came from the computer. She watched over Jeremy’s shoulder as he began typing with near reckless abandon and spoke into his microphone again.

“Odd, bad news. You’ve got hostile hornets inbound. Four of them by the looks of it.” Four red dots appeared on screen, worryingly close to a blue dot indicating Odd’s location. The hornets zipped around the screen, surrounding Odd and barraging him attacks that Sam couldn’t see. From the way Jeremy’s face contorted with worry, though, she didn’t need to see the attack to know things were bad.

“This isn’t good. The hornets shouldn’t be able to move that fast. It’s like being inside the construct has super charged them or something.” A dull beep sounded and Jeremy tsked. “Odd, you’ve just lost fifteen life points. Be careful!” Sam could barely hear her boyfriend’s voice over the other end and desperately wished she could reach out and answer.

“What happens when he hits zero?” She asked, the quietness of her voice surprising her in the moment.

“What?” Jeremy was busy typing away on the keyboard as he tried to discover the source of the hornets’ sudden power-up.

“I asked you what happens when Odd hits zero life points. You said he already lost fifteen, so what happens to him when he hits zero?”

Jeremy pursed his lips. “He’ll be devirtualized. Right now, he’s inside the computer program, but if he loses all of his life points when he’ll be ousted and return to being here in the factory with us.” He added under his breath with added frustration. “At least, that’s what’s supposed to happen....”

“And what does that mean?” Sam was beginning to lose her patience with Jeremy’s infuriating tendency to under-explain what was going on.

“It means, well, that they aren’t coming back like they’re supposed to.” He leaned back and breathed out a deep sigh. “Yumi and Ulrich have already lost all of their life points, and yet haven’t devirtualized. I can only guess as to why, but their shared code must be stuck in some kind of feedback loop within the simulation. To put it simply...” He looked up to her. “I can’t get them out.”

Sam nearly slammed her hand down on the computer keyboard, but fearing damaging Odd, settled for simply unleashing a verbal tirade onto Jeremy. “And you just sent Odd in there to deal with it by himself? I thought you guys were supposed to be his friends!”

“Of course we are!” Jeremy shouted back. “Odd knows the risk, so do Yumi and Ulrich. He’s not alone though, he has Aelita inside Lyoko to help him and he has me out here to provide support. Ever since we’ve met, we’ve all always had each other’s backs and that’s not going to stop now.”

“Then...” Sam’s gaze turned from Jeremy and settled on the computer screen. Her anger slowly ebbing away and revealing the worry underneath. “What are we going to do now? What can we do to help Odd and the others?”

Jeremy bent over the keyboard. She could practically hear the gears turning inside of his mind - there was a reason his friends all called him Einstein - until he snapped his fingers. “If we could temporarily overload the construct with some bad data, then that should be enough to slow down the hornets and put Odd at a greater advantage.” A flurry of keystrokes filled the air. “But, ah, it’s no use. I have no dominion inside the construction, no access to any towers, and I can’t directly send anything to Aelita in order to sabotage the hornets. If we went that route, I would have had to given the bad data to Odd right as he was being virtualized. But it’s too late now-“

“So give it to me.” Sam cut in. “If you can’t give it to anyone else to make the enemies easier to destroy, then upload the data with me and I can take it to Odd and Aelita.”

“It’s not that simple, Sam.” Jeremy was about to launch into a deep explanation of the danger of a first timer launching themselves into an already precarious situation, before Sam put her hands on the arms of his chair and gently swiveled it around to face her.

“You said you care about Odd, well so do I. I don’t care about what might happen to me, I just want to chance to help.” Her voice was quiet, but sincere. A bit of insincerity slipped in with her next words. “ ‘Sides, I wasn’t asking, Pointdexter. Now put me in before I start keyboard smashing this thing.”

Jeremy thought for a long moment, then another, before slowly nodding. He could see why Odd was so crazy about this girl. “Fine. Head downstairs to the transporters and I’ll guide you from over the speakers. I can’t follow, but I can get you where you need to go from here.”

~~~

It was like a rush of electricity moving up her spine, before spreading throughout her entire body. The next thing she knew, Sam was staggering to the ground and could barely catch herself before falling face first. In her ear, Jeremy’s voice spoke.

“A little rougher than the usual, but not bad for your first time. I kind of had to rush your Lyoko avatar, but it should suffice for the time being. Most of it was procedurally generated anyways so-“

“Dude, c’mon, mission at hand before we start talking technical?” Sam shook her head as if clearing out his voice.

“Right, right, of course. You should be able to see the construct before you, it’s geometry is marginally different from the surrounding sector.” True to his word, her dark eyes scanned upwards and eyed the pale stone fortress before her. It’s coloring clashes drastically with the surrounding fog and light lavender rock of the Mountain Sector.

“The entrance is wide open. Isn’t this usually the part of the game where you have to defeat some kind of gatekeeper or something to get further into the dungeon?” Sam remarked as she swiftly passed into the threshold of the construct fortress.

“This isn’t a game, Sam. This is a matter of whether or not XANA can gain a new foothold within the Lyoko program, thus giving him greater power in the real world.” Jeremy pauses for a moment. “And, uh, Yumi and Ulrich already took care of the krabs guarding the entrance earlier....so there’s that.”

“I knew there had to be a gatekeeper!” Sam yelled triumphantly as she trekked further in. Hard, angular edges formed from what looked like polished stone walls guided her deeper and deeper into the otherworldly building. “So, speaking of mobs, what kind of weapons do I have?”

Jeremy audibly pressed a few buttons on his end and Sam could hear the sound of metal clinking together on her belt. “Like I was saying, I didn’t have much time to code anything too fancy. These digital shurikins should help if you encounter any ranged enemies and this-“ A weight suddenly appeared on her back. “-Is a copy of one of Ulrich’s katanas. I’d suppose you know how to use these?”

“Of course.” Sam chirped. “Sharp end towards the bad guys, then throw and stab, right?” On the other end, Jeremy groaned uncertainly. “Kidding, kidding. I think I can make these work. Now, what about this thing?” She motioned towards the metal gauntlet that encased her right forearm.

“In addition to being armor, it acts the as the containment module for the bad data I need you to inject. Once you engage the enemy, all you have to do is get within striking distance with the gauntlet and then-“

“Uh, Jeremy? I think the enemy’s already here.” After turning a particularly sharp corner, the narrow hallway Sam had been traveling down opened up into a room with high ceilings and expansive flooring. Towards the center, Odd pushed a very weary looking Aelita out of the way of a hornet’s well placed laser blast.

“Get behind me, Princess, these bozos are stronger than they look!” He fire a quick barrage of laser arrows towards the trio hornets, but their impressive speed allowed them to easily dodge each blast.

“No, Odd! Here!” Aelita kneeled down and bowed her head. Within a moment, a rock-like structure the same color as the rocks from the Mountain Sector appeared overhead. It shielded them from the hornet’s blasts, but shuddered with each and everything strike.

Within Sam’s ear, Jeremy voice came to life. “Aelita can’t maintain that barrier forever. And once it breaks, they’ll be totally defenseless. It’s up to you now.” Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Sam removed one of the shurikins from her belt. As the hornets were completely focused on breaking Aelita’s barrier, they all but ignored Sam as she quietly slipped closer towards the enemy.

Angling her shot towards the wall, Sam let one of her bladed weapons fly. The shurikin gained speed as it bounced off the wall and hit it’s mark on the broad side of one of the hornets. The virtual insect fell to the ground, dazed from the sudden damage it had taken.

“Now! Sam!” Jeremy leaned forward in his seat, eyes glued to the screen.

“Already on it, Pointdexter!” She ran forward and, with a small leap, descended upon the hornet. “Slow!” Out of the wrist of her gauntlet popped two bladed prongs, that soon became buried deep into the hornet’s body. It shuddered for a moment as it’s virtual body was pumped full of problematic data manufactured by Jeremy. Sam pulled the prongs out of the hornet’s body and threw up a hand to cover her face as the creature exploded.

Above her, the other hornets shuddered and jerked midflight before falling to the ground. “You’ve done it! The hornets are down for the count, and the rest of the construct’s data steam has been disrupted too.” A few keystrokes pass. “And Ulrich and Yumi are being devirtualized now!”

“So, now what? Do we keep going further in or...?”

“No way. Everyone’s life points are way too low, not to mention you and I are going to have some explaining to do to the others.” Sam nodded her head as Jeremy’s voice left her ear. Before she could ask anymore questions, Odd practically slammed into her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and picked Sam straight up into the air.

“Sam! You were so cool! You were like ‘pew’, ‘shing’, ‘stab’, ‘jab’, and then you-“ Sam groaned out-loud.

“Dude, cool it! You’re gonna strangle me to death after I literally just saved your life! Put me down!” Odd loosened his near death grip around his girlfriend and slowly lowered her to the ground. He gave a sheepish laugh. Beside him, Aelita giggled at his bashfulness in front of Sam.

“Right, sorry. For real, how did you get here? Did Einstein call you or something?”

“Not exactly. I, kinda-sorta, followed you here from our date. Then when I saw you guys needed help, I had Jeremy virtualize me.” Sam looked Odd up and down for a moment. “Why...Why are you a cat boy?”

Aelita put a hand over her mouth to stop from laughing, but failed to contain her amusement as tiny snickers slipped past. “Yeah, Odd. What is with the cat get-up?”

Odd’s cheeks flushed with color. “W-Well, it’s kind of a long story. I sorta showed up here like this the first time and since then I’ve just learned to roll with it. But what about you? You look awesome!” His eyes ran over the black jumpsuit with satisfying white lines going down the lengths of her covered arms and legs, accented by an indigo crop top overlaying the outfit.

“Jeremy told me he was using Yumi and Aelita’s outfits as a basis for mine, but most of it was generated automatically when I first got here, I guess.” Sam looked at Aelita and her gaze was instantly drawn to her point eyes and face markings. “I guess between you two, I’m kinda the odd one out. No cats ears, no elf ears, just plain ol’ human ones.”

“Hey, you guys.” Jeremy spoke to all of them through his computer’s microphone. “As much as I’d love to continue this conversation on fashion, we really should get you three back home. Ulrich and Yumi are already here, so I’ll start the devirtualization process. You first, Aelita.”

As Aelita began to disappear into unraveling strands of code, Odd put a hand on the back of his neck. “Sam, I’m sorry you had to find out this way about what I’m always doing with my friends. I wanted to tell you, and I didn’t like lying to you, but trying to explain all this to you always just seemed so...impossible.”

“Odd, if you had told me about all of this, I probably would have thought your brains had finally melted out of your ears from playing so many video games. I’m not angry or anything, more like amazed really. I almost still can’t believe anything like this even exists. I’m glad you’re safe though. Aelita and the others too, of course.” She kicks the ground with her shoe. “So, uh, does this mean I’m like part of the team now or what?”

Odd shrugged his shoulders. “If you want to be. I’m sure the others would agree that you’ve already more than proven yourself, but there’s still a lot we would need to talk about first. What Lyoko is, what we’re fighting, where Aelita really comes from...”

“I knew she wasn’t from Canada!” Sam yelled, before laughter overtook both her and Odd.

“It was the best we could come up with on such short notice. You’re telling me people from Canada don’t naturally have pink hair?”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure nobody from anywhere is a natural pink, dork.” Sam flicks his nose with her index finger as the devirtualization process begins to take her. “I’ll see you back topside, alright?”

Odd nodded. “Yeah, see you back in the factory, dork-kisser.”

#code lyoko #code: swap #odd della robbia #jeremy belpois #Sam King

15 notes · View notes

amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Camila//this is our place, we make the rules

Request: Camila mendes x reader where they get Madeleine (readers sister) with Vanessa mad they have a double movie date at their house and when r and mads fall asleep V and cami talk about how much they really fell for them

hey! i hope you like this! its gay, fun and fluffy!! also, i don’t know if anybody knows but i l o v e taylor swift, so a good portion of requests will be named after lyrics from her songs, sorry, i don’t make the rules. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ this one is from ‘lover’ by the way (i was heavily influenced by the song and i was feeling soft). anyway, have a good day/night! stay safe, be gay!

The universe works in mysterious ways. Everyone knows that, its like the universes’s thing. Some people are funny, some people are smart, and some people like to control life every aspect of life in weird ways. When they are actually people, they’re sociopaths, but when its all of space and time, its just one of its cute little quirks.

People can be connected by something as small as a name, but it can lead to something so big. An invisible tether connecting you to these people, and its something that you don’t even know about until years later when you’re talking about that funny story from ages ago and the other person is like ‘oh, i used to go there all the time’ or ‘how weird, my aunt lives right around the corner of your childhood home and we never met once’.

And it doesn’t have to be that type of connection. A serious of fortunate (or unfortunate) events can lead you to a whole load of new people. You could walk into the wrong classroom in a new school and meet your best friend, or find a new coffee shop after your usual is closed for the day and meet the love of your life.

There’s so many ways that you can be connected to people, you never know when you’re going to meet a friend, and enemy, or something more.

Its both magical and terrifying at the same time. A story waiting to be told, you just have to stand on the right butterfly or tempt just the right amount of fate.

For you and your sister, Madelaine, you both did exactly that. And thankfully the universe seemed to be on your side.

One day, she gets a job on the CW’s newest show, and then a few years later, both of you end up with girlfriends from the same show. And while you and Camila may have been fast to get together (within a few months of actually meeting), it took a little longer (and a lot of sisterly teasing) to get Madelaine to admit that she was head over heels for her on-screen girlfriend.

It was a long and sometimes tedious road for all four of you. Madelaine complaining to you, Vanessa complaining to Camila and then the two of you complaining to each other. You eventually locked them in a room together, something you haven’t done since you were a teenager, and they thankfully got together.

While Madelaine and Vanessa were playing ‘will they, won’t they?’, you had your own things going on. You and Camila had finally made the step to move in together. And after months of searching for the right house (and one that you could afford), you finally found it. A cute little place tucked into a side street of LA.

“I think thats everything.” You smile and look around the large living room. Its been a long few months. But they’ve been fun though. When you were younger, you never thought you would actually be here, buying a home with a girl you loved more than anything and who loved you back.

You and Madelaine would spend hours talking about how you would decorate your own houses. They would be right next door to each other (much to her dismay), with a gate in the back garden so you could come and see each other anytime (again...dismay). Your house would be bright, filled with things you’d collected over the years, flowers and plants would decorate every room, pictures on every wall, and right in the centre, you...with her.

At the time you had no idea who she was. You just knew she would be there. You would be happy and in love and you wouldn’t care who knew. You wouldn’t be scared, or try to hide. You’d just be you, she’d be her, and the two of you would be together.

And thats exactly what you got. Funnily enough though, when you think back you’re pretty sure whoever she was, kinda looked a bit like Camila.

Madelaine’s house is a little different from how she planned when she was 13. Yes, she had the large house and the dogs. But instead of the man, she got the woman instead (much better in your opinion). Which is something it took her a while to get her head around.

She watched you grow up, figure yourself out and then come out to the world. She saw your struggles and your victories. She wiped your tears when someone was mean, and laughed with you at your first pride together.

She watched as Camila went through the same struggle after meeting you. She listened to her while she went through every possible scenario that could happen if people found out.

And she watched Vanessa play this badass bisexual on screen, but struggle with the possibility of liking girls behind closed doors.

Three of her favourite women in all the world, all going through the same experiences. Having the same fears. And then she did the same. Thankfully, all four of you came out the other end stronger and a lot happier.

You and Camila got together five months after the first time meeting and that was almost three years ago. Madelaine finally admitted how much she really liked Vanessa, due to the looming threat of you telling her yourself if she didn’t, and today marks their six month anniversary.

That, mixed with your new home is the reason all four of you are hanging out tonight. Its a double movie date, that will definitely end in all of you falling asleep in the living room, slightly drunk.

“No more boxes?” Camila asks and wraps an arm around your waist. You lean into her touch, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close.

“I think so. I think we’ve officially unpacked everything.” You grin and her expression mirrors yours. She stares at your for a few seconds, just taking everything in, before letting out a content sigh.

“So we’ve officially moved in?”

“Yep...we’re home owners.” You press a soft kiss to her lips and the world blurs around you for a few seconds. Thats until the doorbell rings and you have to reluctantly pull yourself away from her.

“If I’m to go into crippling debt with anybody, its always going to be.” She says sweetly and you giggle before opening the door.

“Y/N!!” Madelaine shouts and hugs you tightly. You groan, but it just makes her grip tighten as you struggle against her.

“Hi V.” Camila appears behind you, completely ignoring you and Madelaine, she learnt the day she met you, don’t get in the middle of a Petsch argument...it won’t end well.

So she starts talking to Vanessa, the two of them having a small catch up, while you struggle away from Madelaine. You huff loudly and straighten your clothes out while she sends you a sarcastic smile.

“I feel like we haven’t seen each other in weeks.” She says, pushing past you and into the living room. Vanessa passes you, whispering a ‘sorry’ as she follows her girlfriend.

“Thats not accidental.” You send her a sweet smile and she rolls her eyes at you.

“Here.” Vanessa interrupts and hands you a small gift bag. “Its a housewarming gift.”

“Aww.” Camila makes her way over to where you’re stood and the two of you quickly open the bag, revealing a picture of the two of you from the first day you met. You’re stood next to each other, shy smiles and soft blushes barely noticeable to anybody else. But you see them and they make you smile brightly at each other.

“Thank you.” Camila says and the four of you hug.

“So.” Madelaine is the first to pull away, now looking around. “My baby sister actually has her own house. Have you drawn all over the walls yet.” She teases and you shove her.

“Everybody knows it was you that drew on the walls and then you would blame me.”

“And mom and dad still believe me!” She smiles triumphantly.

“Yet, I’m still the favourite.”

“Who knows why, I was definitely the cutest.” She argues.

“You keep telling yourself that...potato face.” You reply and she sends you a scowl in return.

“At least I didn’t look like a ham when I was a baby.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and she looks exactly the same as she did when you would steal her toys.

“At least I don’t look like a ham now.” You retort and she gasps, offended. You send her a small smile, happy that you’ve won this round and she continues to glare at you.

“Aw, its just so nice watching how they love each other isn’t it?” Camila whispers to Vanessa and she stifles a laugh as the two of them watch you insult each other.

“Tell me about it.” She groans.

“Do you want a drink?” She asks, motioning to the kitchen. Vanessa looks at the two of you, now actually physically fighting before taking a deep breath and turning back to Camila.

“...please.”

----

“Mads! When you’re finished snooping, the movie’s about to start!” You shout into the kitchen.

You and Cami are cuddled together on one of the sofa’s, while Vanessa waits for Madelaine to come back with the snacks on the other. The empty take out cartons are scattered on the coffee table, and the three of you wait in anticipation for whatever Madelaine brings back, all of you chatting about work.

“Please tell me someone other than you has chosen it.” Madelaine asks as she walks in. Her hands full of food and drinks and Vanessa quickly stands to help carry them.

“Cami chose it.” You reply and smile at your girlfriend, reaching out to hold her hand and she gives it a light squeeze, the two of you momentarily forgetting that you have company. You’ve both been dreaming of this night for months, the first proper night in your finished home and now its here you can’t quite believe it.

“Oh, thank god. You have an atrocious taste in films.” Madelaine says and you’re moment is gone. Your soft expression reserved only for Cami, has now turned into a scowl as you stare at you sister.

“Well, I watch everything with you in so maybe thats more on you than me.” You say casually and a grin takes over her appearance as she sits down beside Vanessa.

“Aw, you watch the movies I’m in?”

“Yeah, the very few that there is.” You snide and she looks at you offended.

“How many movies are you in?”

“How many CW shows that are well written are you in?” You reply and its followed by a chorus of offended ‘heys!’

“Sorry babe, and V.”

“And?” Madelaine asks impatiently. You look at her confused for a few seconds before she tuts and looks at the tv. “Why couldn’t mom and dad have just gotten a dog?” She mutters making Vanessa laugh softly.

“I’m sure they thought the same thing when they found out about you.” You reply. “A dog would certainly have been a lot cuter, and well behaved...and maybe a little more talented to-OW!”

You’re interrupted by a cushion smacking you square in the face, followed by loud laughter from Madelaine and Vanessa. Cami stifles a laugh beside you and you pout at her for a few seconds.

“Its a good job you’re cute.” You mumble and cross your arms over your chest, still pouting at Cami and she presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. You reach for the cushion thats fallen on the floor, but before you can throw it at a now distracted Madelaine, Cami grabs it from you and throws it gently to V who puts it back.

“Don’t even think about it. Those pillows are new.” She scolds.

“Is everyone ready?” Vanessa asks and you all hum in reply.

“Wait!” Madelaine shouts.

“Play the damn movie V.” You say before she has the chance to say anything else.

“Happily.” She laughs while Madelaine pouts beside her.

Silence settles over the room as the opening titles start. You and Cami cuddle even closer than before and a content sigh slips past your lips. She presses a soft kiss to your forehead while her fingers draw lazy patterns on an exposed part of your arm.

“Can we always be this close?” She whispers and a blush settles on your cheeks.

“Forever.”

“Get a room!” Madelaine groans and Cami throws a pillow at her.

“I didn’t think it was possible for me to love you more but I do.” You grin and kiss her quickly while Madelaine complains.

“I thought these were new.” She mocks and the two of you roll your eyes.

“They are, but this is our house so we make the rules.”

“And our first rule is for you to shut up.”

“Thats not a rule, thats an order.” She grumbles to herself and Vanessa pats her shoulder sympathetically.

“Its okay babe. When we get a house together our first rule can be that they’re not allowed inside.” She mumbles making a small smile appear on her lips.

----

“Cami.” Vanessa whispers, stretching to kick her gently. She pulls her gaze away from the tv, now nearing the end of the movie, to look at her friend. Vanessa doesn’t say anything, just gestures to Madelaine and then over to you, both of you fast asleep and curled up in exactly the same positions.

“As much as they annoy the hell out of each, they are literally exact the same.” She laughs as the two of you snore softly.

“Does Y/n refuse to believe she snores too.”

“God yes.” Cami snorts a laugh and the two of you stir slightly. Vanessa and Cami continue to laugh as quietly as possible at the two of you, your snoring seemingly getting louder with each breath and it sounds like the two of you are competing with each other.

“The first time Mads stayed the night, I thought someone was doing road works outside.” Vanessa whispers making Cami wheeze with laughter.

“Stop it.” She waves an arm around while holding her stomach with the other one. “I’m gonna pee.”

“Don’t get me started on the peeing. I swear she gets up about three times a night to go. And she turns-”

“Every single light on!” Camila adds and the two of them laugh loudly again.

“Yes!”

“I wake up at 2am thinking its early afternoon because its that bright.”

“We really fell for them though didn’t we?” Vanessa asks, her tone a lot softer as she glances at her sleeping girlfriend.

“Yeah...I suppose we did.” Camila replies, brushing a piece of hair from your face.

“Life works in weird ways doesn’t it?”

“Definitely.” She nods. “If you’d have told me four years that I’d be a homeowner at 26 with my girlfriend of three years...I honestly would have cried.” She admits making Vanessa frown. “Not for that reason...obviously.” She glances at you. “Its just, I never thought I could be this happy with somebody. But I am. I’m so, unbelievably happy that sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

“If she was awake I don’t know if she would say ‘aw’ or ‘ew’.” Vanessa laughs.

“Probably a mix of both.”

“I forgot to ask earlier.” Vanessa starts and Cami reluctantly pulls her gaze away from you. “Does this place feel like a home yet?”

“Anywhere with her is my home.”

#camila mendes #camila mendes x reader #camila mendes imagine #camila mendes x you #riverdale #riverdale imagine #riverdale cast

87 notes · View notes

her-story6 · 4 years ago

Text

“5 times Cathy calls Lina ‘mum’ and 1 time Lina calls Cathy her daughter”

aka, my most recent procrastination project. I promise I’ll get to the other fics, y’all, I swear. Thank you for being so patient.

Note- I don’t usually hc Cathy as calling Lina ‘mum’ but it was fun to explore for one fic.

No one could ever figure out how Cathy was always the last one to get sick when a bug went through the house. It was just how it was, every time.

Funnily enough, every time, she would do the same old routine. The others don’t think she noticed the pattern, but it was blatantly obvious to them, and it would be annoying if it wasn’t so endearing.

First, she would try and deny it, but once they made it to the theater, she couldn’t hide it for very long before she was frog marched back home and into bed. From there someone, usually Catalina, would stay by her side for a few days until she had either become less stubborn or more lucid. Either way, she would eventually give in and agree to rest. Finally, she would come back around and pretend like nothing ever happened.

Honestly, this cycle happened in some form or another for all the Queens, so no one said anything. They all had their own reactions to illness that more or less stemmed from past trauma, and none of them desired to relive anything like that.

The most recent illness was no different.

To no one's surprise, Cathy had been driven home by Catalina between the afternoon and evening performances, and the elder were currently in the process of trying to get her goddaughter into bed without physical injury.

“Look, Cathy, love, just let me help you,” Lina tried again as Cathy just barely caught herself on the kitchen counter instead of tumbling to the floor.

“I got it, Ari,” the sixth Queen huffed, face scrunching in concentration. She was probably trying to sound determined and intimidating, but Catalina would have laughed if she wasn't so exasperated

“Mija, you barely made it inside without cracking your skull on the ice. I'm begging you, just let me hold your arm when you go up the steps.”

Cathy, who had been taking a short break on a stool, glanced slowly between the aforementioned steps and her godmother, clearly thinking carefully (or as carefully as she could in her half-lucid state) before sighing.

“Fine. But just to get you off my back.”

“Fair enough, querida.” Catalina smirked before sliding forward and linking arms with the smaller woman. Cathy struggled to stand for a moment, before allowing Lina to lead her to the steps.

The first Queen would have been very worried about her goddaughter’s sudden lack of basic motor skills, except it was already a miracle she had managed to survive one show without passing out. This specific illness had caused even Anna, the most composed of all of them, to slide magnificently down the theater staircase before telling Jane all sorts of embarrassing secrets..

They had all been so tired and so out of it that they had practically blacked out for three days, and with the hazy mind came awkward conversations and hours laying in bed.

By the time they reached the top of two flights of stairs, Catalina was supporting basically all of Cathy’s weight. She regarded this as a good thing, though, as it meant that the girl would put up little fight in going to bed.

“Lina, don't we have a show?” Cathy broke the silence that had formed when they reached her door, rolling her head to look at her godmother.

“Not right now, Cath. It's time for bed.” Catalina noted the shift in tone and adapted accordingly, lowering her tone and slowing her speech.

“It's bedtime?”

“Exactly, querida,” Catalina chuckled. “Do you want to change clothes?”

Cathy let out a long, almost dramatic groan as she glanced between the dresser and the bed, before shaking her head.

“No. I wanna sleep.”

“Alright, then. Come on.”

The older woman led Cathy to the bed and helped her get situated under the covers. While she burrowed deeply so was barely distinguishable under the blankets, Catalina turned to close the curtains and set down the water bottle she had slipped under her arm on the way up here.

After said tasks were done, she sat down on the edge of the bed and reached over to brush a lock of hair out of her goddaughter’s eyes.

“Sweet dreams, mi hija. I'll be right downstairs if you need me.”

“Mhmmm” Cathy hummed in acknowledgment, pushing slightly into the touch as she shifted in bed. Catalina smiled softly at her for a moment, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, mi hermosa hija,” she whispered softly as she rose from the bed and walked towards the door. Just as she was about to slip through it, though, a quiet mutter from Cathy stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Love you too, mum.”

Catalina didn't mention that night to anyone.

She didn't mention how her heart skipped a beat, and then she couldn’t stop smiling all night.

She didn’t tell the other Queens of the slip-up, because she could imagine their amused and slightly concerned expressions now.

She most certainly didn’t say anything to Cathy, because honestly- she didn’t want to know whether she meant it or not, or if she would be ashamed or proud, or if she truly felt that way.

As such, the first Queen tried her best to continue life as normal. Pushing the incident to the back of her mind, she was almost able to act completely normal around her goddaughter again.

Until, of course, she said something that was arguably even more heart-stopping.

“Querida, I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s very reasonable,” Catalina tried to reason as the two faced off in the kitchen. The other four were lounging in the living room and trying very hard to not be seen listening in.

“Come on, Catty, just think about it, I mean-”

“No, Cathy. That’s just not realistic. I’m sorry, love.”

“But, madrina-” the sixth Queen whined, leaning dramatically over the counter. Catalina, who had been digging around in the fridge for ingredients (as Cathy had interrupted her while she was fixing dinner), turned around much faster than she meant to and stared at her goddaughter open-mouthed.

“What did you just say?”

“I- oh, I’m so sorry,” Cathy began to stutter as she sat back and looked down, “I didn’t mean, I mean, I did, but if you’re not alright with it, then I’ll never say it again, of course, I’m sorry, I-”

“No!” Catalina exclaimed, then immediately composed herself. “No, it’s fine. It’s great actually.”

“Really?”

“Yes, of course. It’s only fair, if I call you hija then why can’t you call me madrina?” Catalina smiled, reaching across the counter to squeeze Cathy’s arm gently. The younger woman gave her a hesitant smile, then nodded.

“Alright, good.”

“Good,” Catalina echoed. She watched her goddaughter for a few more moments, pretending not to feel Jane’s amused gaze on them, then took a step back. “The answer’s still no, though, mija.”

“Ughhhhhhh,” Cathy groaned dramatically, lowering her forehead onto the counter. “Fiinneeee”

Catalina could do nothing but chuckle.

III

It had been a few weeks and Catalina was just about used to hearing the word ‘madrina’ from her goddaughter’s mouth and every time, she couldn’t help but beam. The proud look on Cathy’s face when she noticed was almost enough to give her a heart attack.

What really did give her a heart attack, though, was when she received a call from the hospital, telling her that Cathy had been in an accident.

This certainly wasn’t the first time one of them had ended up in an ambulance.

Anne, of course, had taken multiple trips, but there was also the time Jane sprained her wrist and when Anna had taken a wrong step on her morning jog and ended up in an ankle cast for the next two months.

As such, after the doctors assured her that Cathy was all fine and they just needed someone to pick her up because the car was not drivable, the panic wore off and she was more relieved than worried.

When she arrived at the hospital, the nurses led her outside a sitting room where she could see Cathy sitting, holding her purse close to her chest and bouncing her leg restlessly. The nurse peaked her head into the room, gesturing for Lina to stay put, and said-

“Catherine, your mother’s here to pick you up. You have all the forms settled, so you’re free to go.”

Before Catalina could say anything, the nurse disappeared around a corner as Cathy slipped through the door.

“Heyyyy,” Cathy started, shifting her purse so it was over her shoulder and looking up at her godmother. “Sorry about that, they didn’t seem to like my idea of just getting a taxi home.”

Catalina was relieved to see that Cathy was more embarrassed than nervous, so she decided to ignore the elephant in the room as the two started walking to the exit.

“No problem, mija. I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“Yeah, me too,” she chuckled. “It wasn’t my fault, by the way. The other guy took full responsibility and his insurance will pay for everything.”

“That’s good.” Catalina nodded, holding the door open as they went outside. Cathy shivered slightly against the nipping wind, but said nothing else on the walk to the car.

Once they were back on the road, though, Catalina grew tired of the awkward silence.

“So,” she started, and out of her peripherals she could see Cathy shift, “mother, huh?” Catalina tried to keep her tone light and amused, and was grateful when her goddaughter let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah, sorry about that. It was all so rushed and I didn’t want to make it more complicated than it had to be by explaining our relationship. They wouldn’t even let me call you.”

“No worries, I was just wondering. Our relationship is pretty hard to explain.”

“You can say that again,” Cathy agreed, and the two laughed as the conversation easily shifted to a more lighthearted topic.

“Oh, come on Catherine! Do you really have to be so uptight all the time?”

The room suddenly became silent at Cathy’s outburst, all heads, which had previously been focused on a heated argument between Anne and Catalina, turning to the sixth Queen. Cathy took this as permission to continue.

“I’m sorry, but you really need to lighten up some times! Anne just wants to go out with Kat and I for a night, what’s the big deal?”

Catalina was taken aback, unaware that her goddaughter was even involved in the issue, but didn’t back down.

“The big deal is that it’s not safe. I’m not letting you stay out all night in the middle of winter, especially with the roads like they are. We are already down one vehicle, we can’t lose the other one too.” The first Queen tried to keep her voice even, but the look of anger in Cathy’s eyes caused her to waver on the last few words.

“Why do you even get a say? We’re all adults in this situation and it’s really none of your business,” Cathy countered. Anne had taken a step back and was now more of a spectator than a participant. Arguments between Cathy and Lina were rare, and when it happened, they all knew not to get involved.

“First of all because it’s my name on the car registration,” Lina started, quickly losing patience. “Secondly because I don’t want any of you getting hurt when I can stop it.”

“You wouldn’t stop Anna or Jane from going!” Cathy exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “It’s just because you don’t trust us.”

“That is not true at all and you know it, Catherine Parr.” Catalina’s voice had lowered dangerously, and Anna and Kitty took an actual step back.

“Do I?! How would you know how I think?”

“You need to calm down. It’s been a long week and we all need a break,” Catalina once again tried to reason calmly, having caught herself before she could make the conversation spiral further.

“Come on, mom! You can’t control us forever.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but I think you should-,” Catalina stopped dead when her brain registered what Cathy had said. “Wait, what?!”

“I-” Cathy’s voice suddenly returned to its normal pitch as she came to the same realization. The room was frozen for a solid minute, all eyes back on Cathy, as her eyes grew wide and her face contorted in confusion. “Whatever.” She finally scoffed, then immediately disappeared up the steps.

Catalina watched after her, mouth wide open and blinking comically. Only the sudden cackling laughter from Jane brought her out of a stupor.

“Oh my god!” Jane said through laughter. “That was beautiful.”

“Jane-” Anna warned, but there was a clear amused smirk on her face as well.

“You all heard that too, right?” Catalina turned to them, still reeling.

“Oh, yeah!” Jane beamed widely, reaching forward to pat her friend’s arm. “Good luck with that, love.”

“Oh, thanks,” Catalina said sarcastically, rolling her eyes even as she tried to process the last few minutes.

“So.....” Anne interjected after a few moments of silence, the word clearly a question.

“No, Anne,” Jane answered her question before it could be asked. “It was a stupid idea in the first place and I think Cathy’s out for the night anyway.” Catalina sent the third Queen a grateful look for taking the question.

“Ughhhh, fine,” Anne huffed dramatically. “It’s probably for the better anyway. Now Kit and I can finish our movie marathon.”

It was quite a statement on Catalina’s mental state when she said nothing to try and discourage the cousins from pulling (another) all-nighter, and the two took the momentary lapse to disappear up the steps. This hesitation was also noticed by Jane and Anna, who glanced at each other in concern.

“You alright, Lina?”

“I-” she started, then paused and leaned back against the fridge with a sigh, “This is going to be a really awkward conversation, isn’t it?”

Jane chuckled softly, nodding. “Yeah, probably. Kitty called me ‘mum’ once and she didn’t look me in the eye again for a week.”

“That’s just the thing, though. This isn’t the first time.”

“It isn’t?” Anna joined in the conversation now, sliding onto a stool across from the other two women.

“I mean, we all know she calls me ‘madrina’, which is different, but still. But she was really sick one night and right before she fell asleep, she, uh... she said ‘love you too mum’”

“Awwwww” Jane cooed, smiling cheekily.

“Not helpful, Jane,” Catalina bit back, without any real force behind it.

“Sorry, sorry, I know. But seriously, do you have a problem with it?”

“No! I mean, I don’t want to make it a normal thing, obviously, but it’s nice to know that she thinks of me like that.”

“Then what’s the issue?” Anna asked, leaning her chin her hand and tilting her head.

“I just don’t want her to feel weird about it. We’ve had.... conversations. About her mother and my Mary and not replacing them and the like, and I just.... I don’t know, it just feels weird.”

“That makes sense. I suggest you let it rest for now. Wait for her to come to you, maybe.”

“You’re right, Jane, I know,” Catalina shook her head, sighing once more. “There’s nothing I can do for now. Thank you, ladies.”

“No problem, Ari.” Anna smiled, and Jane nodded in agreement. “Go get some sleep.”

“That’s exactly the plan. Maybe I’ll stop by Anne’s room on the way and apologize. Good night, Queens.” Catalina nodded politely at them, then slipped up the stairs.

“Good night,” they echoed, sending each other one last amused look before carrying on with their nightly routine.

It had been two days, and Catalina was trying her best to be patient, but Cathy had yet to initiate any conversation with her, let alone one about the topic that was very clearly weighing heavily on both of their minds.

It was painfully clear that they were avoiding each other, and based on Jane’s annoyed sighs and Anna’s pointed glances, the others had noticed as well.

Eventually, though, to everyone’s surprise, it was Cathy who broke the silence.

“Lina, can you help me fix dinner?”

Alright, so it wasn’t what she was hoping to hear, but at least it was something. Catalina, of course, accepted immediately and the two soon found themselves alone in the kitchen, once again surrounded by an uncomfortable silence.

It wasn’t until the meal was in the oven that the first Queen decided enough was enough.

“Cathy, I think we need to-” Catalina started, setting down the bowl she had been washing.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Ari. Can’t we just pretend it never happened? Please?”

The sincerity in her goddaughter's voice almost caused Catalina to give in, but she shook her head and stood her ground.

“You know we can’t, querida. Let’s just get it over with, huh?”

Cathy looked ready to object, but after a quick internal battle, she sighed and nodded, turning the faucet off and jumping up on the counter. Catalina watched her carefully, then followed suit, setting down her washcloth and leaning against the fridge.

“First of all,” Cathy started, shifting so her feet were tucked under her. Lina held back a comment about dirty shoes on the counter as her goddaughter composed her thoughts. “I just wanted to apologize for the argument in the first place. It was stupid and I didn’t mean anything that I said.”

Catalina nodded slowly, mulling over her words, before asking simply- “Anything?”

Cathy hesitated, knowing exactly what she was referring to. “I-,” she paused, swallowing hard. “I honestly don’t know. I was worried at first that you would be uncomfortable, that I had crossed a boundary, and of course I don’t plan on... on calling you that on a regular basis or anything, but....... I dunno.”

Catalina nodded once more, then allowed herself to hesitate, set on thinking out her thoughts before saying them.

“I completely understand. As we’re being honest, I also have to say that I could not tell you all my feelings about it. I think- I think that if it became a habit, I might not be very comfortable with that, but I would never be upset about a slip-up. And every so often, if it comes out... less on accident, I don’t think I would protest too hard.”

“No, yeah, I get it.” Cathy nodded, visibly relaxing as the tension seeped away. “What had me so confused was the difference between ‘madrina’ and ‘mom’. Two completely different connotations, but I have no way of putting the specifics in words.”

“Yeah! Yeah, that was exactly what I was thinking.” Catalina nodded, a smile forming on her face. “It’s actually really nice, to know that you see me like that, because I completely reciprocate that feeling. It’s very clearly not a traditional relationship, but we don’t have to explain it to anyone else if we don’t want to.”

“The word ‘traditional’ doesn’t apply to anything in this house, it seems,” Cathy joked, and then smirked slightly. “You know, that wasn’t the first time I had made that mistake.”

“Oh, I know,” said Catalina simply. Cathy seemed surprised for only a moment before she just shook her head and chuckled softly.

“So we’re good?”

“Of course, mija.” Catalina nodded, reaching to squeeze her goddaughter’s leg. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring this up earlier. I was just nervous you would say something I didn’t want to hear.”

“Oh, me too. But I’m glad we got it all sorted.”

The two stared at each other for a few more moments, just smiling and allowing themselves to appreciate the moment.

‘The moment’, however, was cut off with a shrill beep from the stove, which caused Catalina to jump and bump her side on the fridge handle.

“Ow!”

“Oh, careful, madrina.” Cathy smiled cheekily, “Don’t want to break those fragile old bones of yours.”

“I’ll have you know, mija,” Catalina retorted, as they both set to work on taking out the pans and setting them out on the counter, “These bones are barely a year old. I think I’ll be fine.”

“If anything, that’s more concerning! These bones materialized out of thin air!”

“Oh, please querida, don’t give me an existential crisis right now, I can’t handle it.”

“Your old lady brain struggling to keep up?” Cathy asked, barely containing a laugh.

“Why, you-!”

And when the others came down to the duo ignoring the still beeping oven as they bickered, they didn’t say anything, too relieved to see that they were speaking again.

The Queens didn’t go out to bars together very much anymore, after numerous bad experiences their first few months, but every so often, when a large celebration was in order, they made an exception for Anne and allowed the second Queen to bring them around to her favorite establishments.

By this point in the night, there had already been multiple counts of harassment amongst the six of them, and no one was really reacting anymore. Even Lina, who was above only Cathy in the ‘most likely to get catcalled’ list, had been forced to get a little snippy when a man wouldn’t leave her alone.

Cathy, of course, was blissfully unaware of most of this.

The others had tried to explain to her multiple times why she wasn’t harassed nearly as much as the others.

(‘It’s because you look like a twelve year old’ Anne had suggested, and then Anna had shaken her head and said ‘No, it’s just because you look like you would kill anyone who touched you. That’s a compliment, by the way’.)

That wasn’t to say she was completely unharmed, for she had of course had her fair share of bad experiences. They were just rarer.

This, apparently, was just one of those nights, though, because as Catalina made her way back from the bathroom at their most recent (and final, accordion to Jane) bar, she just barely caught her goddaughter’s curly hair peeking out from behind a large muscular man leaning over her on the other side of the room.

Immediately, the first Queen changed her route and pushed through the throng, trying to gauge the situation before interrupting. As she grew closer, she began to catch snippets of their conversation.

“Come on, beautiful,” the man sneered, leaning cockily against the wall and effectively cutting off Cathy’s escape route.

“I already said no, I’m sorry,” Cathy responded, much calmer than Lina had worried. “Look, I just want to go back to my friends, please.”

Something in the man’s expression changed, and Catalina had no desire to see what happened next (it could have been fine, but she wasn’t going to take that chance) so she sped up and covered the last remaining ground in seconds, before sliding seamlessly between her goddaughter and the man.

“Kindly leave my daughter alone, sir,” Catalina tried to be as civil as possible, crossing her arms and drawing herself up to her full height.

“Your daughter?” the man questioned, scoffing slightly. He leaned around Lina to peer at Cathy. “You come to bars with your mom?”

“Actually I come to bars with my daughter, but that’s really none of your business. Please just leave her alone.”

He looked ready to argue, but with one raised eyebrow from Lina, he decided it wasn’t worth it and turned on his heel, walking away while muttering something under his breath.

“Thank you, but I really didn’t need your help. It was more amusing than anything.” Cathy rolled her eyes, stepping out and following her godmother through the crowd back to their table.

“I know, I just thought it was better to be safe than sorry.”

“Fair enough.” Cathy nodded, then hesitated. “‘Your daughter’, huh?”

Catalina let out a barking laugh, then cocked her head in thought, pulling Cathy to a stop. Cathy tilted her head in curiosity, glancing back at her godmother. Finally, Catalina simply nodded and said, now completely serious-

“You heard me.”

#six the musical #fanfiction #six the musical fanfiction #my writing

35 notes · View notes