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bunni-v1 · 1 year ago

Note

Heyyaaa

May I request dorm leaders finding out you’re a girl please? If it’s too much u can make a part 2

Dorm Leaders Find Out You're a Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

TW: Mentions of transphobia (nothing awful, just literally dropping the word lol); Idia is creepy

Info: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Reader (Platonic or Romantic); Fluff, Comedy(?)

🍓This one is gonna be long, like 5.3k words long. I love writing the dorm leaders so damn much <3 Besides, there’s been a long wait for this one, so I hope I make it worth it! You might see some favoritism shine through, but I did my best to keep it even. Hope you all enjoy!

Tags: @kierancaz @danchann33 @arashrita @the-ace-reader @akiyamasmizuki @kitsun369 @bloomstruck (I think I got all of you)

First Years

Ortho Sebek

Second Years

Third Years

-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?

-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.

-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.

-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)

-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)

-So how do you two do it?

-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.

-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.

-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)

-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.

-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part.

-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.

-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.

-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.

-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!

-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.

-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…

-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.

-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).

-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.

-So… how do they find out?

Riddle

-Riddle is the last student in Heartslabyul to find out.

-It’s not like he did anything to you for you to hold off on telling him (you know, other than the whole almost killing you that one time thing), it’s just that you don’t feel inclined to tell him.

-Simple as that.

-He also really has no reason to question your gender.

-Riddle didn’t have must interaction with people his own age until he came to night raven college, he doesn’t have the same social ideologies as other people do.

-Nightraven college is really his first touch with society outside of his mothers very watchful, conservative eye.

-So, excuse him for not picking up on stupid little gendered norms that the other students do.

-In his eyes, you dress like a man, you act (sort of) like the other male students, and you prefer he/him pronouns.

-There’s nothing more to it then, right? If you identify as a man, he has no reason not to treat you as such - nor should he suspect you would hide your gender like that.

-Besides, this is an all boys school! Crowley wouldn’t allow you to attend here unless you were also a boy… right?

-He is aware there are exceptions — and you are already QUITE the exception, but surely Crowley wouldn’t be so cruel as to force a young woman to attend an all boys academy.

-Ah, sweet Riddle, ever in denial.

-He isn’t STUPID though. He notices how brotherly Trey is to you. He knows (and has heard) your many “secret sleepovers” with Cater.

-He ignores these things and doesn’t comment on them simply because, well, he likes you!

-He helps to tutor you sometimes, and he’s gotten to know you through that, and he really does come around on enjoying your presence.

-So, he ignores Trey and Cater’s odd behaviors for your sake.

-You keep him and his dorm members in high spirits, why would he want to shoo something like that away?

-He doesn’t really questionthings until he… overhears a conversation between Deuce and Ace. (A rather loud one, for how supposedly secret this topic was meant to be).

-One of them had gotten in trouble with a professor, and he was going to give them a stern scolding when he overheard what they were talking about.

-“Deuce, dude, you’re gonna want to sit down for this one.��

“What is it, I’m busy trying to finish my potionology homework.”

“Seriously this one is crazy, you’re not ready for for it.”

“Ace, if you’re just messing with me I’m going to leave.”

“Dude, the prefect is a girl.”

“…What?”

-Riddle did not bother the two after that. In fact, he just walked back to his room to sit and think about what he just overheard.

-It DID make sense. You didn’t quite fit in with everyone else for reasons outside of your otherworldly origin.

-You acted differently than the typical guy here at NRC, and you seemed to get along with the peers that were more ‘traditionally feminine’ best.

-It would explain Trey’s coddling and Cater’s secretiveness.

-Still, he didn’t want to assume. This was Ace and Deuce, and Ace could just be messing around with Deuce.

-So, at your next tutoring session, he broaches the subject as politely as possible.

-“So, prefect, I have… overheard something that I wanted to ask you about.”

“Oh no, am I in trouble because of Ace and Deuce again.”

“Not… technically… I did, however, overhear them talking about… you being a woman.”

“…I’m gonna kill them.”

“I could collar them for you, if that would help.”

-The confirmation was reassuring for Riddle in multiple ways.

-1) Ace isn’t as terrible of a person as the thought he was.

-2) He wasn’t crazy in noticing the slight differences in you and your other peers.

-Now, you and Riddle aren’t exactly super close by any means, so your interactions with each other are limited to when you’re either being tutored or with friends in Heartslabyul.

-However, he is notably more nervous than he usually is.

-He doesn’t have some super secret crush on your all of the sudden, he just… never really had a chance to interact with women before.

-His mom kept him very sheltered from the opposite gender, so he has little to no experience with them.

-On top of that, because of his mother, he does have a slight fear of women. He’s afraid he’s going to upset you and you’ll blow a fuse on him or something.

-You have to assure him that you don’t bite and you won’t suddenly start screaming at him for no reason, and then he begins to relax a bit.

-Still, he’s very sweet and gentlemanly to you.

-If you need help with anyone around campus, you should come to him and he will have them dealt with accordingly.

Leona

-Leona “Respects Women” Kingscholar.

-Leona has SLIGHTLY worse smell than Ruggie, but he also knew immediately upon your arrival that you were a girl.

-In fact, he knew you weren’t a trans man, because they smell distinctly different from the typical woman.

-There aren’t many trans people in the Savannah though, so Ruggie not being able to pick up on that doesn’t really shock him.

-Leona, however, has smelled and seen plenty of trans people in his life time — you aren’t one of them.

-He won’t lie, he’s definitely interested in you. Women where he comes from are big and strong and proud, you’re just kind of plain.

-He keeps his ever curious eye on you though, because he’s interested in how you might navigate this whole thing.

-Now don’t get it twisted, he doesn’t care about you, he’s curious about you.

-If you were to ask him for help on something, he wouldn’t offer it. (Not that you would, you seem particularly averse to him).

-However, if he were to see some creep trying to… well… creep on you, he’d chase them away without ever having you know he did.

-He was your secret bodyguard who wouldn’t admit it even if you held a knife to his throat.

-Still, he stayed out of your way and you stayed out of his.

-A symbiotic relationship that you weren’t even aware existed… until you got in his way.

-Like Ruggie, when you start getting a little too involved in his ahem business, he gets pretty damn annoyed.

-You’re not exactly a threat to start, but you are a little trouble maker. If you find out what he’s up to, you’ll ruin his plans completely, and he can’t have that.

-However, he’s not exactly comfortable “taking care of you” like he is his male peers.

-He respects women, okay, you can’t blame him for not wanting to purposefully hurt you. (If his mom and brother found out, he’d never hear the damn end of it)

-He sends out Ruggie to scare you off, explicitly telling him he can’t hurt you on purpose.

-He knows Ruggie already has an idea of what’s going on, so he doesn’t have any qualms with telling him to be careful with you.

-Still, despite all this, he doesn’t really broach the topic until he’s forced to.

-He’s made it known to you, at this point, that he knows your secret.

-He hasn’t caused you any extra trouble since his overblot, and he keeps his dorm members off your back, so you have no reason to interact with him… until, again, you get yourself into trouble.

-This time it’s YOU dragging him into your mess, despite him wanting nothing to do with it.

-You are convincing, though, so he gives and allows you to stay in his dorm room — rent free! Isn’t he so nice.

-Jack offers himself for protection if you need it, but you can see that Ruggie is quite bemused with the whole situation, so you decide to turn him down.

-Leona hasn’t tried anything yet, and he really could if he wanted to.

-You decide you can trust him. (You have to trust him).

-Then presents the issue of sharing a bed.

-Leona isn’t a weird pervert, okay. He isn’t absolutely leaping at the idea to be in bed with you — he’s so sorry.

-Honestly, it makes him a bit… uncomfortable.

-Sharing a bed is something you do with family or someone you’re involved with, not the weird magic-less kid who’s at least three years too young for you.

-So, Leona, ever the women’s rights activist, approaches you with a proposition.

-“Listen, I know you’re a woman and I know you know that. We’re not sharing a bed, there ain’t no way that’s happening.”

“Oh, so would you like the poor helpless homeless woman to sleep on the floor? How cruel can you be Leona.”

“Shut up, I’m not gonna do that to you. Listen, you can have the bed all to yourself and I’ll sleep on the couch, so long as you promise not to tell a single soul about this.”

“I promise.”

-You immediately tell Ruggie the next morning, and he is sure to make sure Leona never forgets it.

-Living with Leona for the short period of time that you do is very insightful!

-He’s actually pretty funny, much smarter than he lets on, and almost brotherly to you. Which does not fit the M.O. you built of him in your head.

-He’s gruff and pushy, but he does it out of genuineness.

-You end up getting really close to him because of it.

-His quiet and laid-back demeanor are a break from the chaos of everyone else on campus, and he doesn’t make a big deal out of anything so you can just complain and he nods along unbothered.

-Only thing you notice that upsets him is when you bring up guys who bother you.

-Those guys tend to stop bothering you shortly after. How strange…

Azul

-Azul is hands down the last person on campus you want knowing about this.

-Riddle, Ruggie, Trey, Cater and pretty much everyone with half a brain tell you to stay as far away from him as possible.

-You see him in the halls sometimes, and he doesn’t look to bad. Unapproachable, sure, but he’s a rather pretty guy. Well put together and seemingly very smart from what you’ve been told.

-He helped to subdue Grim in the opening ceremony, so you know he’s magically capable. He’s also a house warden, so that goes unspoken, I suppose.

-He seems interested in you, from what you can tell. He always waves at you when he does see you in a sort of fake friendly kind of way.

-You’ve seen him and his little (large, very large) goonies admiring ramshackle before.

-You’ve also politely asked them to not do that when you moved in, because it freaks you out a lot. To which they all gave you very eerie smiles and walked away.

-They remind you of a very small mafia, and you decided to heed your friends warnings because of that.

-You do so successfully for a long time too. Other than the few previously stated interactions, Azul seems un-inclined to bother you, and you don’t want to catch his leering eyes.

-Little do you know, Azul has a much more watchful eye on you that you initially thought.

-Sure, you don’t have much to offer him magic wise, but you have ramshackle. Oh, how he wants ramshackle.

-You are key to obtaining it, he just… has to find something on you first.

-You’re so painfully average. Perhaps a little more pretty in the face than his other peers, but you sacrifice that with the atrociousness of your uniform.

-Truly, nothing about you is different.

-He almost gives up until Grim delivers him an opportunity in a pretty little bow.

-You agree to his contract out of the goodness of your heart, just like he knew you would. So sweet and kind are you, to practically hand him the deed to ramshackle on a silver platter.

-He notices, however, that Jade grows a very… sudden fascination with you.

-Sure, he told both Jade and Floyd to keep and eye on you and keep you in like, but for Jade to be so interested… very odd.

-Then, shortly after, Floyd’s own interest is piqued. Alright… less odd than Jade, but to have both of their eyes on you must mean he’s missing something. (I know I previously said that Floyd found out after Azul, but I was stupid and wrong and you should never listen to me when I’m talking about Floyd).

-He tries to get it out of them by any means, Asking, blackmailing, manipulation. He really does try, but their lips are sealed tight.

-It frustrates him to no end that they know something he doesn’t, and that he can’t figure out this very big secret.

-It stumps him for so long, because he’s looking in all the wrong places for the answer.

-Meanwhile, you know that Jade and Floyd know and you are TERRIFIED waiting for Azul to use this against you.

-The suspense starts killing you and making you anxious enough that its affecting sleep, so you decide to bite the bullet and arrange a meeting with him.

-Azul is honestly delighted, because he was just going to outright force the truth from you at this point.

-“I’m glad you set up this meeting, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“I know… I’ve been pretty nervous about it since Jade and Floyd started pestering me.”

“Before I talk about what I want to, I’d like to hear what you have to say. I’m a good listener after all.”

“Too good, if you ask me. Uhm, anyway, so I know that Jade and Floyd to you that I’m a girl already, but I’m really hoping you would just leave me be. You owe me after all.”

“…You’re a girl?”

“Did they not tell you…?”

-what. What? WHAT?!?!?!

-How could he not tell, he feel so incredibly stupid. Its so obvious now that he thinks about it.

-No wonder Jade and Floyd wouldn’t stop teasing him about it.

-He agrees not to let the secret out — he DOES owe you his life, after all. This is a minor trade.

-However, he does not mentally recover from this revelation for a while.

-He doesn’t treat you very different, I suppose. He’s more gentlemanly with you, and is generally more friendly, but those things come from saving a persons life regardless.

-He is, surprisingly, willing to ensure your whole gender thing doesn’t get out so long as you work a few hours at the monster lounge.

-Probably the best at keeping it to himself and making sure it doesn’t get out. You wouldn’t expect any less with Azul, though.

Kalim

-You and Kalim don’t really have much of a chance to interact.

-He seems sweet enough, and you know he’s much kinder than the rest of the dorm leaders, but you don’t really have any reason to interact with him.

-Kalim also doesn’t think too much of you.

-You caused a ruckus at the entrance ceremony, that’s for sure, but you kinda blend into the background.

-Besides he’s a party animal — constantly hosting these huge parties at his dorm just because he can.

-As someone trying to keep out of trouble and hide such a huge secret… yeah, parties aren’t exactly your forte.

-So, when you get roped in to coming to Scarabia over winter break, Kalim is pleasantly surprised!

-He’s always excited to make a new friend, and you’re pretty infamous around school, so he’s extra excited to get to know you.

-Kalim has no reason to question anything about you, like most other people would.

-However, he isn’t stupid. He has plenty of younger sisters, and he picks up on social queues better than you’d expect.

-He definitely suspects something is off, but he figures you would tell him if something was up.

-You actually find him quite easy to be around. He’s someone who makes it easy to let your walls down and just relax with.

-Despite his sudden mood shifts, he always makes sure that you’re happy and healthy and doing the best you can be in your position.

-However, you run out of the magical potion that deepens your voice pretty quickly, and you have to go back to dramatically straining your voice.

-You sound sick, honestly, and it makes Kalim worry.

-He figures that you’re forcing yourself to deepen your voice so you’re still perceived as a man.

-Instead of asking you directly, as Kalim does, he goes to Jamil.

-“Jamil…”

“What do you need, Kalim?”

“Don’t you think somethings… off with the prefect?”

“Off? What are you talking about, nothings off with them.”

“No, I mean… do you think they might be… a girl?”

“…Kalim, that’s very rude to say. You need to be more respectful.”

“…You’re right, I’m sorry. Could we get him something to soothe his voice though, it sounds rough.”

-Kalim is a lot more watchful of you after that. He just… knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t want to be rude.

-It’s actually you who comes to him when no one is around for help.

-“Kalim, uhm, I need your help.”

“Sure, what’s up?”

“So, I’m pretty sure you know, but I’m not a guy… I’m a girl, and I really need help hiding it. The longer I’ve been here, the harder it’s been on me.”

-Sweetheart he is, he promises to both help you and keep your secret to himself — and he does both surprisingly well!

-He offers his private bathroom to you so you can shower in peace.

-It’s honestly the best bath you’ve ever had with all his sweet smelling oils. Your skin feels so smooth and renewed.

-Still, even with this, you still don’t feel safe with anyone else — plus the fact that Kalim has random and horrifying mood shifts. You have to flee.

-And yet you still get dragged into more trouble with the octatrio. You still get exposed to the whole dorm by a crazed Jamil, and now have to deal with the horror that they’ll tell everyone.

-Kalim feels awful, and thus shows his forgiveness in the best way he can: giving gifts.

-You get tons of apology gifts from him in the coming months. Baskets of the best shower stuff you’ve ever had; a new, better fitted but still innocuous uniform; enough tuna to keep grim satisfied for years (and sweets that you happily keep to yourself).

-It’s so nice, but you start to feel bad. It feels like you’re taking advantage of his guilt, when you’re not really upset at anyone involved anymore.

-You’re welcome at Scarabia any time. None of his dorm members will ever cause you any trouble, and you can dress and act and sound however you want within Scarabia’s walls.

Vil

-Miss beauty queen himself. We love Vil, we Stan Vil, we adore Vil…

-Oh my god he’s a pain in the ass though, especially for you.

-He sees through you in an instant.

-Truly, Vil finds you to be more of a little pest than anything.

-You are constantly in trouble, you are magic less, and you decided to needlessly hide your gender.

-The last one is the worst offense in his eyes.

-Vil is someone who does not value gender, but expression. Your gender does not matter as much as your expression, therefore you hiding your expression irks him.

-He’s understanding enough in the fact that he knows you might be doing this to protect yourself, but he finds it stupid and useless, because you’re easy to see through.

-He avoids you, and you avoid him. Simple as that.

-Unfortunately for Vil, you’ve caught Rook’s eye, which means he must sit through many hours of Rook rambling on about his “findings” about you.

-When you tried out for the VDC, he was simply going to turn you and Grim away, but Rook convinced him to give you a chance.

-Rook wanted him to help your reveal your “inner beauty”, though Vil wasn’t sure if you had any of that.

-You wore baggy, horrifically ugly clothing up until winter break. Your hair was constantly a mess. Your skin was poorly taken care of, and the bags under your eyes were as dark as night.

-It almost made him feel bad for you… so despite his better judgement, he decided to invest time in you.

-Vil makes it very clear that he knows what your whole secret is.

-“I am aware of the fact that you are a woman, however, I will continue to use your preferred pronouns since it seems to bring you comfort.”

-He’s very insistent that you allow him to do your skincare AND your makeup whenever you give him the chance.

-Especially when he moves into ramshackle temporarily, he’s very insistent on maintaining your skincare routine.

-He essentially makes your entire nightly routine himself, and is right there over your shoulder making sure you do it right.

-Despite how overbearing it is, you actually make good friends with him through this.

-Being stuck alone in a room with no one but him to talk to forces you two to talk.

-You get to learn why he cares so much about appearances, and he gets to know why you hide to protect yourself.

-“It’s just… easier to pretend, because guys will bother me less that way.”

“I can’t understand why they would bother you. You’ve done nothing to them, so why would they want to do anything to you.”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know either. I just know it’s scary, and I don’t want to deal with it.”

-You move him, honestly. You’re strong even though you’re scared, and that’s beautiful. Thats what true beauty is.

-He helps you embrace your inner self and express that, while still helping you to hide your gender in a way that feels safe.

-You are always welcome at Pomefiore, and you can come to either him or Rook if you have any issues at all.

-It’s like having a big sister, almost.

Idia

-Idia has eyes everywhere.

-Every inch of that campus is (illegally) being monitored by his watchful eyes.

-When he’s bored in class, he flicks through the cameras to amuse himself — maybe he’ll see someone slip and fall on their ass. That would be funny.

-He’s not really interested in you in particular.

-In fact, he’d like to keep a very far distance between the two of you.

-You’re… intimidating. You’ve fought some of the most powerful mages on campus and won.

-Total final boss energy, not something Idia is interested in being around.

-What he IS interested in is that wittle kitty you’ve got following you around.

-When he’s bored in class, he goes searching for Grim, and where Grim is you are sure to be.

-So, despite his aversion to you, he ends up spending a lot of time watching you.

-He starts to notice… things about you.

-He notices that you seem to put on a tough guy persona around… well… other guys in your class.

-When it’s just you and Grim though? You’re the softest softie he’s ever seen.

-It’s top tier cringe watching you try to being all macho, so he much prefers your more quiet and relaxed self you show in private.

-Seriously though, you’re a TOTALLY DIFFERENT PERSON when you’re alone with certain people.

-EVEN YOUR VOICE CHANGES!!!

-It’s so uber creepy, it’s like a jumpscare every time you drop that fake deep voice.

-If he’s being real, you’ve got a pretty voice. Honestly, you’re really pretty period. Too pretty to be a guy honestly.

-…

-….

-…..HOLY SHIT!!!

-He has to check your medical files to be sure — which he obviously has access to, thanks to having access to everything Ortho has access to.

-Blah blah blah allergies, blah blah blah horrific injuries from overblots, blah blah blah- AH HAH!

-Next to gender you are listed as… transgender man.

-He doesn’t wanna be that weird transphobic incel, but from what he’s seen? He highly doubts that.

-From what he’s seen in his (invasive) watching, you’re definitely doing the troupe of hiding your gender to better fit in.

-He feels like he’s in an anime or something.

-He doesn’t really want to bother you about it — but from watching you, you seem like someone he’d really enjoy being around.

-Ortho also insists that he’d get along with you very well!

-…It’s worth a shot right.

-He tries several times to “bump” into you, which always ends in him skittering away in fear.

-He psyches himself out every time. “They wouldn’t even wanna hang out with a loser like me.” “They’re way too cool for someone as lame as me.”

-It’s not until you invite yourself to one of tabletop club’s meetings that he’s forced to interact with you.

-He’s really banking on the fact that you’ll be too busy talking with Azul to notice him, but then Azul leaves and its just you and him.

-Him and you…

-Both of you… in total and complete silence.

-…yep…

-“Uhm, Idia…?”

“yES!?”

“I came here cause I wanted to talk to you, sorry for being so underhanded about it, I just couldn’t get you alone without you running off.”

“AH— I mean, ahem, okay. My bad.”

-You totally cornered him like an evil villain.

-All because you wanted to… be his friend?

-Is he dreaming, going insane perhaps, did HE get isekaied into an alternate universe where he was likable???

-Nope, Ortho just talks him up a lot, and you think his hair is cool. Huh. Kinda lame compared to what he was thinking.

-You guys talk a LOT after that. You exchange numbers and you text him about all sorts of stuff — and he’s actually interested in it!

-You learn that he’s been watching you and Grim for a long time, and while you scold him.

-You think it’s pretty funny that he’s embarrassed about his love for cute things.

-“If you’ve been keeping your eye on me for so long, you must’ve figured out that I’m a girl, right?”

“Yeah, you’re not great at hiding it. That macho guy act is suuuuper lame, you look like a noob lol.”

“Hey! I’m just copying what Deuce told me to do!”

-You guys don’t really see each other face to face very often, but like I said you text a lot.

-Sometimes he’ll text you shit like ‘I saw that, saved it for blackmail.’ After you biffed your shit on the pavement or something.

-When Idia gets more comfortable, you two spend hours on call whenever you get the chance.

-He lends you some of his precious manga, and even gives you an older TV he had laying around so you can watch stuff at ramshackle.

-Sometimes he invites you over to play video games with him and Ortho, and he gets all cocky and proud when you gush about how cool all his tech is.

-And, yeah, Idia definitely forms a little crush on you — but he would do that regardless of your gender.

-He just likes you a lot, and you can feel safe on campus knowing he’s watching over you when you need it. (Mostly watching Grim, tbh.)

Malleus

-We know that Malleus enjoys… creeping outside of Ramshackle.

-He spends quite a lot of time on your front lawn, therefore, he’s usually in proximity of you.

-However, he is very intimidating!

-As a young woman in a magical world that you are not from, a very tall man with horns is the exact opposite of what you want to be around.

-Besides, you’ve heard the rumors about him — how powerful he is, and how scary he is.

-Malleus, on the other hand, is admittedly curious about you.

-He finds humans in their own right incredibly interesting, but you are not just a regular human.

-You are a human who has no magic and is from another world entirely.

-You are something he has never once seen in his whole life, so excuse his childish curiosity.

-Still, you’re sort of cleverly avoiding him at every chance you get, and he just can’t quite find the time to talk to you.

-Until one night, you come back rather late and you find him in your yard… again.

-You send Grim in by himself and decide to confront him by yourself, because you are tired of being afraid to fall asleep at night.

-“Hey, you, could you maybe not stare at my house in the middle of the night!”

-Oh. You are quite feisty, and very bold to approach Malleus Draconia with such an aggressive tone.

-“I’m unsure what you mean, I’m simply admiring the architecture.”

“I don’t care WHAT you’re doing, you’re freaking me out! I know you’re supposedly some big scary monster guy, but I need you to STOP being weird outside my house.”

“…My apologies…”

-Malleus is pleasantly surprised at your spunk — he’s never been spoken to like that, he’s excited by it.

-After you yell at him, you let him explain himself, and you realize he is just… really, really bad at socializing.

-He wasn’t watching you, he just really enjoys silence and ramshackle is the quietest place on campus — even with you living in it.

-So, you give him the benefit of the doubt, because he really does just seem like he’s lost on everything around him 90% of the time.

-You don’t hang out with him during the day, but if you happen to see him on your lawn (as he usually is), you go out and hang out with him for a while.

-It makes Malleus happy, because you treat him like a friend. You give him cute nicknames, and you invite him inside for snacks, and you go out of your way to say hello to him when you pass him in the halls.

-He also gets to know more about you, and his curiosities about you and your world get quelled.

-He doesn’t really question anything about you, especially not your gender.

-Gender is hardly important for fae, and you seem confident in your expression, so he has no reason to wonder. Besides, there are far more thrilling things about you than your sex.

-So, you and Malleus start to grow close. So close, in fact, that you can confidently say that he’s one of your closest friends.

-At this point, almost everyone who you want to know about your gender knows. Everyone but Malleus.

-Initially you kept it a secret because you didn’t know how good he was at not talking, but now…

-Now, well, you don’t really have a reason.

-People usually question you at this point, or at least seem suspicious, but Malleus?

-Malleus shows not a hint that he thinks something is up. It’s odd to you, isn’t he supposed to be super smart or something. Maybe he’s just too respectful.

-Regardless, you decided to talk to him about it the next time you see him staring at the gargoyles around campus.

-“Hey Tsunotaro, what’re you up to?”

“Just admiring these gargoyles here, aren’t they fascinating? They were the first few installed in the school, if my memory serves me correctly.”

“They are very cool, but could I ask you something not gargoyle related?”

“What is it, child of man?”

“You know that I’m, uhm, a girl right?”

“Oh. I did not know that, how interesting.”

-He doesn’t understand why you would hide that, but it doesn’t really perturb him that much.

-The most you got was an eyebrow raise, and then he was back to his gargoyles.

-You were pretty satisfied with that, so you figured he wouldn’t tell anyone… and then you hear him loudly talking about it with his friends in Diasomania.

-Sigh… he means well, but he just doesn’t get the social stuff.

-You’re not mad, because pretty much everyone knows at this point, but it still sucks that he’s such a loudmouth.

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sound-of-scoups · 26 days ago

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Moth To A Flame | JJK & KMG | 01

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female!Reader x Kim Mingyu Genre|tags: Idol!au, series, established relationship, infidelity, love triangle, lots of angst, lots of drama, smut, fluff. Word count: 9.2k+ Rating: Explicit adult content (MINORS DNI). Chapter warnings: A LOT of angst and tension, explicit language, sexual innuendos, kissing. Lemme know if there's more. A/N: I’m so happy it’s finally out!!! Just a few notes: I don't want to specify an exact date, but the events take place mostly during the second half of 2022, during the PROOF and Face the Sun/SECTOR 17 eras. Also, I'm not exactly sure how many chapters this fic will have, but possibly around 10 to 15 (if i can help it). That’s it! Enjoy the reading and let me know what you think!! Tags: @cherrylovescheol, @lovingkoalaface, @whoa-jo, @marihoneywk

Summary: Four years ago, you crossed paths with a charming member of the K-pop group Seventeen during their tour stop in Osaka. The two of you shared three intense, unforgettable days before life took you in different directions. It was painful for both of you, but you knew you couldn’t take things any further and had to say goodbye. Now, back in Seoul for good, you’re in a new relationship with another idol: Jeon Jungkook—whose charm and stability make him everything you thought you wanted. You are very much in love with him, and as your connection deepens, it feels like your life is finally falling into place. That is, until you meet one of your boyfriend’s best friends and are stunned to discover it’s the same man you fell for in Osaka all those years ago. As buried emotions resurface and secrets begin to unravel, you find yourself torn between these two men, caught in a whirlwind of love and conflict, testing the boundaries of loyalty and the choices that could change everything.

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Your phone buzzed on the dresser as you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the strap of your dress for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. You knew it was a message from Jungkook, probably wondering where you were since it was half past nine and you were already late.

Nice way to make a good first impression, you thought to yourself, staring back at your reflection in the mirror, a mix of excitement and nerves creeping in your chest.

Jungkook had chosen the dress himself. It was simple yet elegant, a mid red velvet dress—his favorite color on you—with a slight sheen and floral embossed details. The dress has a V-neckline and it’s fitted to the body, creating an elegant and sophisticated fit, perfect for the night. Over the dress, you chose to threw a black leather jacket, which added a cool touch to the look, contrasting with the delicacy of the dress and looking very chic overall.

You took a step back, after applying a final coat of the deep red shade lipstick, smoothing the fabric of the dress one last time as you studied your reflection in the mirror once more.

If you were being honest with yourself, you had spent more time getting ready than usual, wanting everything to be perfect.

Tonight marks six months since you and Jungkook started dating, a milestone you both had eagerly awaited. From the moment you met while temporarily working for HYBE as a stylist for BTS’s PTD on Stage first show in Seoul, back in october, you knew it was meant to be. When he started shamelessly flirting while you tried to adjust his clothes, you knew you were a goner. And in the 182 days since he kissed you at 2 a.m. by the Han River, the two of you have been through so much together.

You’ve already done almost everything and anything, absolutely ignoring when everyone said not to rush into things, since you’re both so young. Plans for the far future, matching tattoos, and considering how much time you spent at his place, basically living together. You can name it and find out what you've already done. HYBE already knew about your relationship, and you spent ninety percent of your time together, except when you were both working. He already knew your family and closest friends, and you also knew his mom, dad and brother, his members and most of his friends from school and the industry.

Well, all except the infamous 97 line. Which basically was your task for tonight.

You had never met them before, or at least not all of them. However, tonight that would change, as Jungkook had arranged a dinner and drinks to introduce you to them. And from the moment everything was agreed upon, the thought of making a good impression had your stomach in knots. Jungkook was everything to you, and all you wanted was to be perfect for him—to be the woman who would fit seamlessly into his world.

You really did love him. It was a thought that both comforted and anchored you all day, keeping you steady despite the nervous feeling creeping in your stomach as you finished getting ready. During the time you’ve been together, you've fallen hard for Jungkook, his kindness, his humor, the way he made you feel safe and cherished. He became your world. He’s kind and thoughtful manners, the way he treated you like you were the most important person in his life.

Jungkook had been nothing short of amazing and you loved him deeply.

But that was not the only thing on your mind tonight. There was something else, something you hadn’t been able to push away no matter how hard you tried. Or rather, someone.

Of course you knew the guys who were part of 97 line—you didn’t live under a rock. For Christ’s sake, you also work for the entertainment industry; it’s basically part of your job to know who they are. And even if they weren’t who they are, Jungkook never stops talking about him specifically. He’s already shown you dozens of photos of the two of them and their adventures during Seoul’s nights.

It had been months since you realized that Mingyu from Osaka was also Jungkook’s Mingyu.

The worst part, however, was that you hadn’t had the heart to tell him. You knew how angry he would be, how fiercely he loved you, and how much he disliked the idea of sharing anything, especially you; what was his was his only. So, yes, you were terrified of what would happen if he found out. You simply couldn’t bear the thought of losing him, not when you loved him so much, and not when what you had together was the best thing that had happened to you since you set foot in Seoul again.

That’s the only reason you had kept it to yourself this entire time, knowing this moment would come eventually and you would have no way to escape it, only hoping you could get through the night without Mingyu causing any trouble. You knew he was a discreet guy, and it wasn’t like you were going to see each other every single day anyway from now on.

Your phone buzzed on the dresser one more time, pulling you out of your thoughts. As you have guessed before, it was another text from Jungkook.

You smiled, the warmth of his words soothing your nerves, if only a little. Jungkook was the reason you were doing this, the reason you face tonight despite the anxiety gnawing at you. And tonight was about him, and you were determined to make it nice and easy.

So you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you muttered to yourself, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It's just one night.”

Grabbing your purse, you took one last look in the mirror, and headed out the door. Even though it's not that far from your house, the cab ride to the restaurant felt shorter than you expected, your anticipation growing with each passing minute.

Earlier in the day, Jungkook had insisted on picking you up, but you refused. You ended up working late—your temporary job as an editorial stylist for Elle Magazine had taken more of your time than expected—and you didn’t want to make him late as well. So, you told him you’d take a taxi and assured him it would be fine. But even so, you could tell he wasn’t completely convinced. He'd texted you several times throughout the evening, double-checking that you were okay and reminding you to let him know once you were on your way.

When you arrived, you spotted Jungkook immediately, staging outside the entrance with a wide grin on his face. He looked effortlessly handsome in his dark gray Calvin Klein shirt and dark jeans, his dark hair tousled in that way you loved.

As soon as he sees you getting out of the cab, his entire face lights up.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he greeted you, bunny smile on full display as he pulled you into his arms to a warm hug, nose immediately dragging against the column of your neck, “I missed you.”

“Hi, handsome,” you replied, a teasing smile on your lips, nerves easing slightly with his touch as you melted completely into his embrace. “It's only been eight hours, babe.”

He shrugs. "What can I say? I don’t think I can last much longer without you, babe." Taking his face from the crook of your neck, Jungkook smiles, leaning down to kiss you softly. You sunk into the kiss, his familiar warmth making you feel safe and more at ease. “Happy six months.”

“Happy six months, baby,” you replied between kisses.

When you finally pulled away, he kept you close, both hands on each side of your hips, an amused smirk pulling up at the corner of his lips. “You look incredible. Can’t wait to take this dress off of you.”

Your arms rested on his shoulders, circling his neck. “Mhmm… you don’t look so bad yourself.” He smelled really nice too, a wood and ocean scent that was distinctly his. “I have a surprise for you underneath this.”

"Don’t do this to me, doll,” he groaned in complaint, his voice almost sounding like a whimper. “I’d ditch those guys for you in a second.”

His lips met your jaw, trailing a path down to your neck. “And I wouldn't complain.”

You heard someone clear their throat, noticing a lady on the sidewalk staring at you with an unfriendly expression. You giggled, finally pulling away but staying close enough for him to drape his arm around your waist.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I can’t wait for you to meet them,” he sounded way too excited, his doe eyes sparkling with joy. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you said with a nervous laugh, trying to shake off the lingering jitters.

“They’re going to adore you, I promise,” he said, squeezing your waist reassuringly.

Jungkook led you into the restaurant, his hand gently resting on the small of your back. The place was cozy and intimate, with soft lighting casting a warm glow over the tables—the exact kind of spot you’d expect idols to gather for this kind of get-together. You could hear the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses as you made your way to the back of the room toward a large table where a group of eight guys were already seated and chatting animatedly.

As you weaved through the maze of tables, your nerves began creeping back in, your heart pounding in your chest as you approached the table. You forced yourself to focus on Jungkook, on the fact that he was here with you, and that tonight was more about him than anything else. But as your eyes scanned the faces at the table, you couldn't help but search for the one you were dreading most.

“They’re just over here,” Jungkook said, bringing you out of your thoughts as you approached the group.

And then you saw him.

Heart skipping a beat and breath caught in your throat as your eyes landed on the man sitting at the far end of the table, his eyes downcast as he filled his glass with a cabernet liquid.

The man you never expected to see again in your life.

Kim Mingyu.

The sight of him was like a punch to the gut, the air in the room suddenly feeling too thick, too heavy. The world around you blurred, your vision narrowing to just him—the man who had occupied your thoughts for so long after Osaka four years ago, the one you had tried and failed to forget.

It felt like slow motion as all eyes turned to you, and Mingyu slowly looked up from his drink, following suit with the rest of the guys.

Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes locked with his. A flicker of recognition crossed his gaze, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly masked his surprise with a neutral expression. Even though you knew he would be there, nothing could have prepared you for the rush of emotions that surged the moment your eyes met.

It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving you breathless and frozen in place. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, the noise of the restaurant fading into the background, and all you could hear was the rapid beating of your heart.

Mingyu held your gaze, a slow, knowing smile curving his lips. In that moment, a jolt of electricity shot through your body—a mix of fear, guilt, and something else, something you didn’t want to name.

“Everyone,” Jungkook’s voice cut through the haze in your mind, pulling you back to the present. “This is Y/N, the amazing woman I’ve been telling you all about, and the love of my life.”

Jungkook’s tone was joyful and proud as he kissed your cheek. You tore your eyes away from Mingyu, forcing a smile and trying to steady your breathing. Meeting the gazes of the guys around the table, you spoke, your voice steadier than you felt. “Hi, it’s so nice to finally meet you all.”

“Babe, this is Yugyeom, Bambam, Chan, Eunwoo, Jaehyun, Seokmin, Minghao… and Mingyu,” Jungkook introduced, oblivious to the tension simmering beneath the surface.

Mingyu stood up almost immediately, one of his long legs hitting the edge of the table, causing the silverware to rattle. He offered you a polite smile, but you noticed the tightness in his jaw, the way his eyes avoided yours as he reached out to shake your hand across the table.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N,” he said, his voice calm and measured, as though nothing was out of the ordinary, giving nothing away.

Your hand trembled slightly as you shook his, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through your body that you desperately tried to ignore. Heart racing, you managed to reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you forced a smile, “You too, Mingyu.”

Clenching your teeth, you fought against the shiver that coursed through your body, your nipples hardening despite your will. Memories flooded back in flashes, like a kaleidoscope of moments—the way his fingers felt inside you, on you, touching and caressing, guiding you to most the earth-shattering nights of your life.

Your hands lingered together for just a moment, you mind racing as you tried to gauge his reaction. Was he going to say something? Did he really remember you?

The rest of the introductions faded into a blur. As everyone took their seats, you found yourself sitting directly across from Mingyu, the small proximity only heightened your awareness of him. You could feel his gaze on you, even though he was careful not to let it linger too long.

Jungkook sat beside you, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh under the table—a gesture that usually made you feel secure. But tonight, it felt like a reminder of the terrible situation you had suddenly found yourself in.

You now hated yourself for not saying something to Jungkook before tonight.

Of course, you hadn’t known Jungkook when Mingyu came into your life, but now that you knew both of them, shouldn't you have said something?

And what would you even say?

That his best friend had once stirred feelings in you so intense that they haunted you? That you spent years trying to erase the memory of his touch? That all those years ago, it was as if Mingyu hadn’t just claimed your body but your soul?

A wave of nausea hit you suddenly, and you swallowed hard, trying to push it down.

As the conversation flowed around, you tried to focus on the others, to be present in the moment. You had to keep yourself occupied, or your sanity would begin to fray. And the other boys were more than happy to help you with that. They were very kind, funny and welcoming, and despite your tension, you found yourself slowly warming up to them.

Jaehyun was charming and amusing; Seokmin was full of energy, making you feel more at ease with his laid-back attitude; Eunwoo was sweet but a little shy; Chan was outgoing and warm-hearted; Yugyeom was bubbly, relentlessly teasing Jungkook throughout dinner, while Bambam was clearly the life of the group—loud, hilarious, and making you laugh with his playful banter and jokes, easing some of the tension you’d been carrying since you arrived. Minghao, on the other hand, was more subdued but quick-witted, throwing in sarcastic comments and showing a genuine interest in you.

They all seemed genuinely happy to meet you, and you found yourself laughing at their stories, trying to relax.

“So, what do you do for a living?” Bambam asked. “We gotta know if you’re doing something cooler than us.”

You chuckled softly. “Right now I'm between jobs. I mainly work as a tour stylist, but recently I’ve started getting into some editorial work too, for Elle Magazine.”

"Oh, so you know Chaeyoung?" Eunwoo asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Chaeyoung?" you echoed, unsure.

"Rosé, babe," Jungkook leaned in and whispered.

"Oh, right! Yeah, I was responsible for her outfits in the Elle June issue. We spent the whole day together—she’s really sweet."

"She's part of our group too," Jungkook explained with a grin, "but you'll meet the girls another day."

"They're a separate event," Jaehyun joked and you laughed.

“What do you like more? Touring or editorial?” Yugyeom asked, looking genuinely interested.

“Touring, definitely,” you replied, your face lighting up as you spoke about your job. "It’s incredible, and I get to do the other thing I love most—traveling."

“Wow,” Seokmin outed, sounding genuinely impressed. “What do you do when artists go on tour?”

“The months prior to a tour I coordinate the designers and do the talks with brands for custom pieces or partnerships," you began to explain. “During the tour, I oversee the team of dresses who help with costume changes and ensure costumes are functional for performances.”

“She’s so much cooler than you, Jungkook-ah.” Bambam said, pointing at Jungkook, who just shrugged.

“I can't argue with that.”

“What artists have you worked with?” Chan piped in, eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Mostly westerners. Little Mix, Dua Lipa, Ariana Gran—”

“So how did you two meet?” The question came up suddenly from the far end of the table, interrupting what you were saying and making your breath catch.

You shifted your gaze toward Mingyu, who leaned across the table with his eyebrows arched, head resting in the palm of his hand. Curiosity—and something more—sparkled in his eyes. Until that moment, he had been the picture of composure, engaging in conversation easily, his voice smooth and confident as he chatted with Jungkook and the other guys, but never with you.

Right now, however, you could see the tension in his jaw and the way the muscles in his forearm flexed, fingers tightened around his wine glass as he said, “Jungkook’s been pretty quiet about it, keeping us all in suspense.”

You hesitated for a moment, his tone sharp and unsettling, the bluntness of his question throwing you off balance. It was exactly the conversation you'd been avoiding, knowing it could lead to Mingyu prying into things you weren’t ready to share in his presence.

You glanced at Jungkook, who smiled encouragingly and gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze under the table.

“Well, we actually met when I was working temporarily with BTS during the PTD on Stage shows here in the city," you said, keeping your voice steady, though inside you were bracing yourself. You turned your attention to your boyfriend’s face, forcing yourself not to let Mingyu's presence intimidate you, though it was becoming harder with every passing second. "It was supposed to be just for those shows, but I ended up staying with them until PTD in Las Vegas.”

“HYBE really loved her work, but I think I loved it more than anyone,” Jungkook said with a big smile, his hand gently caressing the inside of your thigh. His eyes met yours, and you exchanged a warm smile. “We got to talk one night after one of the concerts in LA, and…”

“It just felt right,” you concluded, smiling at the man on your left.

“Wow,” Yugyeom said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You couldn’t help but notice how similar his smile was to Jungkook’s—very bunny-like. “That sounds like something out of a drama.”

“Doesn’t it?” Jungkook said rhetorically, his eyes never leaving your face.

You laughed softly, feeling the warmth in his gaze. “I guess it does. Life has a funny way of writing its own scripts.”

Tonight was the greatest proof of that, you thought, as Mingyu's gaze seared into the left side of your face.

You stole a glance in his direction, catching him watching you closely. His expression was unreadable, but the tense set of his jaw gave you all the confirmation you needed—his own question had backfired, and this conversation was clearly affecting him, and not in the "I’m-happy-for-my-best-friend" kind of way.

Then he abruptly turned his attention away when Minghao leaned in to whisper something in his ear.

"She’s got a point," Jungkook said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk as he pointed at Eunwoo. "You’ve probably started enough dramas to know how this plays out, huh?"

The man chuckled. "To be honest, it does sound like fate.”

Jungkook glanced at you with a smile that made your heart flutter even more. But before you could respond to Eunwoo, Mingyu’s voice cut in, accompanied by a wry smirk. “Real cinematic. Almost too good to be true, right?”

“It really was kind of perfect,” Jungkook said, smiling down at you again and completely oblivious to his friend's ironic tone."Fate or not, I’m just glad it happened."

The boys instantly started imitating Jungkook’s voice, making obnoxious noises and exaggerated smooching sounds. You forced a smile, trying to ignore the way Mingyu’s words lingered above you, heavy with unspoken meaning.

His eyes remained fixed on you, but he leaned back in his chair, feigning casual interest. “I see. Well, it’s surprising that you didn’t run into us at the concert here in Seoul, too, since we were there. I guess fate decided to keep things interesting.”

Once again, his words were tinged with irony, and though he didn’t directly address it, the implication was clear as the day for you. Your heart raced as you fought to maintain your composure.

“Yeah, I guess.”

Just then, Jaehyun flashed you a warm smile and asked, “So, Y/N, are you from around here?”

You shook your head. “No, actually. I’m originally from Gwangju, but I lived in the UK for almost my entire life before deciding to move back here.”

“Really?” Jaehyun said, clearly intrigued. “What brought you back?”

“Just felt like the right time,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “Sometimes you need a change of pace, you know?”

Jaehyun nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. It’s nice to have a fresh start every now and then.”

"How many countries have you visited while working?” Yugyeom asked, taking your focus off Jaehyun. “Must be nice traveling to so many places."

"Oh, it is. There are so many places that I couldn't name them all at once. The last time I was in Brazil with–”

“Have you ever been to Osaka, Y/N?” Sensing an opening, Mingyu threw the question at you, his eyebrows raised, your name rolling out of his tongue slowly. His smirk didn’t waver as he leaned forward slightly, eyes gleaming with the kind of knowledge only the two of you shared. “Osaka is really nice.”

You winced at the chill in his words, desperately searching his eyes for the tenderness that once resided in those brown depths. But all you found were dark, empty eyes that swiftly brought back memories of your time together.

Suddenly, your heart skipped a beat, the memory of those three days in Osaka flashing through your mind like a neon sign in the dark. He didn’t mention it—he wouldn’t—but the way he phrased the question made it clear what was hovering between the two of you. You didn’t know what game Mingyu wanted to play tonight, but it was suddenly driving you crazy.

Everyone at the table turned their eyes to him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, since he brought up Osaka out of nowhere.

It was Bambam who voiced the question. “Osaka? She just said she was in Brazil, and you're stuck in Osaka?” he laughed. “You’ve been to Osaka hundreds of times, bro. Let’s hear about Brazil, please.”

Throughout the rest of the dinner, conversation and laughter filled the air. You tried your best to focus, to be present and engaged, but it didn’t matter how hard you tried, it was difficult to concentrate. Your mind kept drifting back to Mingyu, the tension between you palpable, even though neither of you acknowledged it. The others made you feel at ease, but Mingyu’s presence cast a shadow over your excitement.

And as if his mere presence wasn’t enough to overwhelm you, his smooth gestures and deep, husky laughter stirred memories you were desperately trying to forget.

You couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes burning into you, now and then. Every so often, you would catch Mingyu looking at you, his gaze lingering just a little too long before he looked away. And every time your eyes met across the table, it sent a jolt through your system; your heart skipped a beat again and again, your mind a whirlwind of emotions, a jumbled mess of past and present. You couldn’t believe this was happening—of all the people in the world, Mingyu had to be Jungkook’s best friend.

It was so obvious that you weren’t the only one affected by this. You could see the tension in Mingyu’s shoulders, the way he kept his responses short, his attention drifting elsewhere. He was as shaken by this unexpected reunion as you were, and knowing that only made you feel more unsettled.

You loved Jungkook so much, you reminded yourself over and over. You were with him now, and that was all that mattered.

“Jungkook’s been so happy since you two got together,” Eunwoo leaned in closer, lowering his voice beneath the hum of conversation. His warm gaze focused on you as he whispered, grounding you again. “It’s really nice to see.”

A lump rose in your throat, the warmth of Eunwoo’s words a sharp contrast to the cold tension swirling inside you. Forcing a smile, you replied, “He makes me really happy too. The happiest, actually.”

It was true—you knew that. But right now, it felt like you were trying to convince yourself more than reaffirm it, and you hated yourself for it.

As the night went on, the tension in your chest never eased. It felt like guilt was eating you alive. Maybe you were overreacting—after all, it wasn’t like you had any feelings for Mingyu anyway. Maybe you should have told Jungkook from the start. Maybe he wouldn’t have reacted the way you feared, and everything would have been fine. The two of you would have laughed at the coincidence, and life would have gone on.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But now it was too late, you thought to yourself—you were already here. You and Mingyu had already spent most of the night pretending you didn’t know each other, as if nothing extraordinary had happened four years ago. There was no way Jungkook wouldn’t find the situation strange.

Did that make you a cheater? You had wrestled with the question through the night, guilt gnawing at you, even if there was no betrayal in the technical sense.

This wasn’t the kind of thing you could confess without destroying everything. It wasn’t something you could admit even to yourself without breaking. But the memory clung to you, no matter how hard you tried to bury it. And the weight of it was unbearable now, sitting in a room with both of them, feeling like you were betraying Jungkook just by being reminded of a past you could never speak of.

Not with him, anyway.

Sitting among your boyfriend's friends in silence, you felt like the worst person in the world. Although the rest of dinner flowed with lighthearted conversation, your heart raced every time Jungkook brought up something about your relationship that could give Mingyu space for interrogation.

And that continued until the conversation suddenly shifted.

“So, Mingyu, you still haven’t spilled the details about what went down between you and Sanghee," Yugyeom said, turning all eyes toward his friend. “Spill, already.”

"Who’s Sanghee?" Bambam mumbled through a mouthful of rice.

“She’s that friend I set him up with on a blind date about three weeks ago," Yugyeom explained and all of a sudden, it seemed like the whole table had remembered a very important topic to be discussed: Mingyu’s love life. “She’s a dancer for YG.”

You took a long sip of your wine, trying to drown the strange knot tightening in your stomach. A confusing mix of warmth and bittersweet unease creeping through your veins, leaving you momentarily disoriented.

Jealousy? Seriously?

The thought hit you like a wave, catching you off guard. You had no reason to feel this way, but the unsettling twinge in your chest was undeniable. You shook your head, trying to push the feeling aside. You didn’t even know him anymore. It wasn’t fair to you or him to be feeling this way. But most of all, it wasn’t fair to Jungkook. Yet the thought of Mingyu being with someone else had every muscle in your body tensing, rejecting the idea completely in a crazy possessive way.

"Wait, you're dating again?" Jungkook asked, genuinely surprised and you lowered your gaze to your plate, trying to tune out the conversation, even though a part of you wondered what he meant with again. "I had no idea, man. That's good for you!"

Mingyu’s tone was sharp, clearly meant as a jab, as he replied to your boyfriend. "Well, of course you wouldn't know. We’ve barely seen you these past six months."

"But for a good reason, so you're off the hook," Seokmin said with a wink in your and Jungkook’s direction, quickly easing the tension. "Anyway, it's awesome that Mingyu's getting back into dating. Four years is a long time."

You froze, a chill running through you. That couldn't be right. You must've misheard.

Slowly, you lifted your head, just in time to catch Minghao wrapping an arm around Mingyu, as if offering quiet support. "He had to move on eventually, you know."

"Seriously, dude," Eunwoo chimed in, shaking his head. "I’m starting to think that girl you met in Osaka is a figment of your imagination. No way you’d stay hung up for four years over someone you only spent three days with."

Mingyu’s face flushed, and it was obvious he knew you were staring—he avoided your gaze, and for the first time tonight, he was looking everywhere but at you. Still, you couldn’t help but watch him from beneath your lowered lashes, struggling to make sense of your feelings right now.

To your surprise, he glanced your way for just a second before turning his attention back to the guys.

"Could you all shut up for a moment?" His gaze landed on Jungkook, then Yugyeom. "And no, I'm not dating again. Sanghee was a little annoying, to be honest. She only wanted to talk about things that didn't interest me”

Yugyeom let out an exasperated sigh, throwing his head back. "You’re way too damn picky, man. Seriously, just choose someone and date them already!"

"I'm not picky, I just know what I want." He leaned back in his chair with a casual shrug and turned his gaze to you. You quickly looked away, but he pressed on. "I've already said it: I'm looking for someone I can genuinely connect with. Someone kind-hearted and easy-going."

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like the girl from Osaka."

Mingyu shrugged. "Exactly like her."

You swallowed hard, leaning your head against your boyfriend's shoulder, using him as support to try to erase the thoughts racing through your mind at full speed.

What the fuck was going on and why was he saying all these things?

"Mingyu met a girl in Osaka, like, five years ago? And he's never shut up about her since," Jungkook whispered, trying to include you in their conversation. "He hardly ever dates anyone because of her, so it’s always a reason to celebrate."

You forced a smile, bringing the glass to your lips as you replied, "She seems like a special girl."

Jungkook smiled softly at you, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "I bet she is.

The conversation went on and then shifted, turning to the new drama Eunwoo was preparing to film over the summer. When dessert was served, you excused yourself to the bathroom, needing a moment to collect your thoughts and breathe. You slipped quietly out of your chair, walking down the dimly lit hallway outside the restroom, your heart still racing as you closed the door behind you.

You immediately leaned against the sink, gripping its edge tightly as you stared at your reflection, your pulse thrumming in your ears as you cursed loudly. “Fuck.”

What the hell was going on? Why was Mingyu trying to confuse you with all these things, after everything that happened the morning he left Osaka? What did he stand to gain from this? He was the one who set the boundary, who made it clear that the past needed to stay buried. So why now, of all times, was he stirring it all back up? None of it made sense, and the more you tried to piece it together, the more it felt like the ground was shifting beneath your feet.

You loved Jungkook. You knew that. You were in love with him, with the life you had begun to build together. The perfect bubble you had created around yourselves, one that no one seemed able to burst. You’d spent six months like this—entwined in each other as if your very lives depended on it—and even now, you were still eager to celebrate this milestone by yourselfs the moment you step out of here.

Yet, seeing Mingyu tonight took a toll on you.

There had always been something about him, something intangible that tugged at your soul in ways you could never fully explain. Now, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t quite remember what it was. It was maddening; the way the memory of him from four years ago slipped through your fingers all night, yet still sent your mind spinning uncontrollably. Deep down, you knew it was the same force that had once made your heart surrender so easily, the same pull that left you defenseless all those years ago.

You splashed water on your face, hoping to wash away your thoughts, trying desperately to clear your mind and come to your senses. But no matter how cold the water was, the anxious feelings remained, stubborn and unshakable.

Drying your face with a towel, you tossed it into the basket and took a deep breath. Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to pull yourself together before heading back out there to face the rest of the evening with nothing but a big, stupid smile on your face, doing what you seemed so good at: pretending.

You stayed in the bathroom a few more minutes, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the flush that had risen as you steadied your breathing. You needed to get back to Jungkook as soon as possible—back to the reality you had chosen, back to celebrating your six-month anniversary together with his friends.

But as soon as you rounded the corner, you almost collided with a solid figure.

“Whoa!” you exclaimed, stumbling back slightly before steadying yourself. “I’m sorry, I—”

You stopped talking immediately when you looked up and met the one person you least wanted to see right now. Panic coursed through you, and you instinctively dodged, forcing yourself to start walking again without saying a word.

But you were quickly halted when a hand landed on your forearm. The sudden touch sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of surprise and an unwanted spark of familiarity that you couldn't shake off. It was the faintest brush against your arm, but the sensation lingered, sending your pulse into a wild rhythm.

How could such a small touch feel so electric?

You quickly pulled your arm away, but didn’t take a step, frozen in place with him just behind you.

“Y/N,” Mingyu whispered, his voice husky in urgency. “Can we talk?”

Your heart sank. The last thing you wanted was to be cornered right now, especially after everything that had been said at the table just a couple of minutes ago.

Slowly, you turned to face him, heart racing as a flood of emotions threatened to overwhelm you just by a single touch. In that moment, all the thoughts you had tried to suppress tonight came rushing back, and you found yourself caught between the instinct to flee and the magnetic pull of his presence.

“I… I really can’t,” you replied, voice firm but slightly wavering.

“Please,” he said, stepping closer, the intensity of his gaze making it hard for you to breathe. “I just need a moment. Just to talk.”

You shook your head no, mind fighting with all the reasons why this was a terrible idea. “Mingyu, it’s not a good time. I’m with Jungkook, and—”

“I know you’re with him,” he interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “But that’s not what this is about. It’s about us.”

“What happened is in the past,” you stated, feeling a rush of frustration. “This won't change just because we ran into each other.”

His expression softened, a mixture of regret and longing. “It’s not that simple, and you know it. We…”

He stopped talking for a moment and for a second, just stood there, his gaze fixed on your face with intensity. He didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you it was as if he hadn’t really seen you until this moment. His eyes roamed over your face, down to the way the red dress clung to your body, and back up again, like he was memorizing every inch of you, like you was something he couldn’t quite believe was real.

Your pulse thumped loudly in your ears. The proximity between you was unbearable. He was too close, his scent too familiar, the memories flooding back with every breath taken as if the ones that haunted you through this night weren't enough.

It had been four years, but suddenly it felt like it had all happened yesterday.

Mingyu stepped closer, so close now that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Your breath caught in your throat, your pulse thudding wildly as his eyes met yours once again. There was something in his gaze, something raw and unspoken, that made the air between you hum with electricity. He was looking at you like he’d been waiting all night just to get this close, like being in the same room hadn’t been enough until now.

“You…” Mingyu’s voice was rough, almost strained, his eyes never leaving yours. “You look… different.”

“Mingyu…” you started, but your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say.

You knew what he meant. It wasn’t about the dress or the fact that your hair had grown long since the last time you had seen each other. He meant something deeper, something you both felt but neither could acknowledge. As you met his gaze, the weight of that understanding settled over you.

“You… look good,” he said, his voice quieter than before, but it still carried the same roughness that sent a shiver down your spine.

You smiled softly, tilting your head to the side. You wanted to say so many things to him, but all that could come out of your lips was, “Thank you. You look good too.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy with everything you couldn’t say. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the flicker of hope clouded by the reality of your lives now.

“Mingyu,” you started, unsure of how to express the conflict inside you. “Listen, I…”

But before you could finish, somebody turned around the corner, interrupting your moment, making you jump slightly. Your heart started racing again, the reality of your situation crashing back down on you. Anticipation clenched in your stomach. You had to get out of here.

“Minghao. Hi.”

Minghao smiled at both of you immediately, stopping in his tracks, his curious gaze locking onto yours. “Sorry about that,” he said with a chuckle, stepping aside to let you pass. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine.” You said, mirroring his smile. “No worries.”

Then you made a move to walk past him, eager to return to the safety of the dinner table, to Jungkook, but Minghao didn’t let you go so easily. His eyes narrowed slightly as he asked, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just needed to freshen up.” You replied, glancing toward the dining area of the restaurant where you could hear Jungkook’s voice and the others still laughing, still blissfully unaware of the storm that had just brewed in your mind.

“Are you two okay?” Minghao asked, glancing between you with a raised eyebrow.

You nodded quickly. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

He didn't look convinced. “Did I interrupt something?”

“We’re just catching up,” Mingyu replied, his expression shifting, the vulnerability from moments ago replaced by a guarded look. The casualness in his voice stood in stark contrast to the heaviness that had hung between you seconds earlier. “I had to know if she passed the test to be Jungkookie's girlfriend.”

Mingyu let out a light laugh as he spoke and Minghao nodded, though he didn’t seem convinced. There was a curious glint in his eyes, as if he were trying to piece something together. He studied your face intently, his brows furrowing in thought, like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve.

“You know,” he started, his voice thoughtful, “you look really familiar. Have we met before?”

Your breath caught in your throat, heart skipping a beat for what it felt like the hundredth time this evening. The way he said it, the way his eyes held yours—it sent a chill down your spine. The distant familiarity in his eyes unsettled you all of a sudden, and you felt a knot tighten in your stomach.

You quickly glanced at Mingyu, then back at Minghao, swallowing hard, the weight of his gaze suddenly becoming too much for you to handle, because you knew exactly where he recognized you from.

That day at the airport, the very last day, four years ago. The day you had said goodbye to Mingyu, heart in pieces, believing you’d probably never see him ever again. Minghao had been there, along with the other members of Seventeen. Far away, but there. He had probably seen it. He probably knew.

Panic bubbled in your chest, but you fought to keep your expression neutral. You forced a laugh, shaking your head as you carefully replied, "I don’t think so. I think I’d remember."

“You’d be surprised,” Minghao’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if your reaction to his question had only deepened his suspicion. He chuckled softly, but his eyes stayed on yours, sharp with thought. “I’m terrible with names, but faces? I never forget a face.”

He looked like he was going to say something else, but then he tilted his head, studying your face a little bit more. He glanced at Mingyu slightly and there was a beat of silence between the three of you. All of sudden, you felt your pulse quickening again. This night looked like it would be one that would land you in the hospital with the onset of a cardiac arrest.

“Maybe we’ve crossed paths somewhere,” you said, trying to sound as casual as possible. “But I don’t think we’ve officially met before tonight.”

“Hmm, maybe,” he mused, glancing past you for a second before returning his focus back to your face. There was something knowing in it, something that made you feel sick. This couldn’t be happening. Then Minghao’s expression shifted, as if a light had just switched on in his mind. “Japan! Ha! Have you ever been to Japan?”

“I, uh…” you stammered slightly, trying to keep your cool. “Yeah, I’ve been. For work.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. You had met Mingyu during your time off while the singer you worked for was on tour.

He nodded slowly, like he was piecing something together. “Right.”

Minghao's eyes lingered on yours, and you had the distinct feeling that he was seeing right through your attempt at casual conversation.

But to your relief, he didn’t press the subject further. Instead, he just shrugged. “Well, I’m sure it’ll come to me eventually,” he said, his tone hinting at something unspoken. He smiled as he stepped aside, gesturing toward the dining room. “Anyway, I’ll let you get back to Jungkook. Enjoy the rest of your night, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Minghao.” You mumble quickly, as he stepped into the men’s restroom after lightly touching Mingyu's shoulder and smiling at his friend. You took a deep breath, eyes meeting Mingyu’s again. “I should go,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I really need to—”

“Wait,” he interrupted you, his tone suddenly serious. “Can we… can we talk later? Somewhere private?”

You hesitated, the conflict within you flaring up again. Minghao's words and gaze had completely thrown you off balance. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please,” Mingyu said, his voice dropping to a whisper, a plea that struck deep within you. “I just need to see you again. Just to talk.”

“I’ll think about it,” you replied, taking one last look at him before you walked back toward the table.

Every step felt heavy, your mind racing with thoughts you wished you could push away as you made your way back to Jungkook. Did Minghao know? Was he just playing with you, or had he already connected the dots? Has he really recognized you? Was it possible that he had seen you in the airport with Mingyu?

You simply couldn’t afford to think about that right now. Not with Jungkook looking so happy, waiting for you at the table, surrounded by his closest friends. For now, you had to push everything aside, pretend like the past hadn’t crashed into your life tonight.

As you neared the dining area of the restaurant, the sound of laughter greeted you, and for a moment, the weight on your chest lightened. Jungkook spotted you immediately, his face lighting up as he waved you over.

You observed that boys had spread out. Seokmin, Bambam and Yugyeom were huddled around the karaoke machine, laughing and dancing to the soft ballad playing in the background. Eunwoo, Jaehyun and Chan sat nearby Jungkook, deep in conversation, while there was no sign of Mingyu coming behind you.

When you reached the table, Jungkook turned fully toward you, flashing that familiar boyish smile, the one that always made your heart swell. It was effortless, the way he could make you feel safe with just a look, as if the entire world faded away and it was only the two of you.

He extended his hands, pulling you close to seat on his lap, his voice soft and affectionate as he murmured, “There you are. I was starting to miss you.”

You genuinely smiled, the sound of his voice grounding you in the presente, exactly where you should be. You had to focus on him. On your six-month anniversary. On the life you had built together, even if ghosts from your past were insisting on creeping back in.

He wrapped his arms around you, drawing you as close as he could. “You okay?”

The warmth of his embrace and the tenderness in his words wrapped around you like a protective shield, momentarily easing the tension inside you. You melted into his embrace, resting your head against his shoulder and allowing yourself to sink into the comfort he always provided you, grateful for his touch on your skin. “Never been better.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Jungkook whispered, his words filled with sincerity as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of your head. “You make everything better, you know?”

You smiled at him again, though this time it felt fragile, like it could shatter at any moment.

“I’m glad too.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I love you.”

He smiled big. “I love you more.”

You shook your head, tears suddenly welling up, pushing against your resolve. "No," you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought to hold them back. You couldn't tell what it was. Whether it was the events of tonight that had left you feeling so overwhelmed, or if it was simply because you loved this man with every fiber of your being that it couldn't be possible for there to be a love greater than that. "It’s not possible."

Everything inside you felt tangled—love, guilt, confusion—blurring the lines between what was real and what you were trying to push away.

“Yes, it is,” he said, head tilted to the side as he examined your face, his eyes and voice soft with concern, while you sank deeper into his shoulder. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

"Nothing," you whispered, forcing a small smile as you blinked away the tears. "They're tears of happiness, I promise. I'm just happy that we're here and together."

“Babe, this has been the happiest six months of my life.”

Your heart clenched. Six months. It was supposed to feel like a celebration, but all you felt right now was guilt weighing on you.

“Mine too,” you whispered back, mind far from settled.

Jungkook pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You laughed, despite the sincerity in his voice, burying more of your face in his neck and closing your eyes to inhale the scent you loved—his. “Are you drunk right now, mister?”

“Just a little bit,” he chuckled. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

“I feel the same way, baby,” you said, hoping the words would steady you.

He leaned closer, moving your hair away from the back of your neck to leave a trail of kisses there, voice a little rough. “And the way you look in this dress? Absolutely perfect and mesmerizing. I’d say you’re turning heads tonight.”

Your heart raced with joy at his compliment, heat rising to your cheeks. “You’re not too shabby yourself,” you teased, letting your gaze linger on him. “So handsome,” You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt soft beneath your lips. “So hot. It’s no wonder Calvin Klein wants you as their new brand ambassador.”

He chuckled, a low, playful sound that sent a thrill through you. “Careful, babe. If you keep complimenting and kissing me like this, I might have to take you somewhere else.” His tone was flirtatious and tinged with mischief, causing a flutter deep within you at the thought.

You bit your lip, lifting your head from his neck as your hands caressed his face, fingers tracing the outline of his jaw and lip ring. Leaning in closer, you raised an eyebrow, your voice soft and teasing. “Is that a promise?”

“Mhmm…”

Your faces were inches apart, the warmth of his breath sending pleasurable shivers down your spine. There was electricity in the air, a palpable tension that danced between you, wrapping around you like a silken thread. In that brief moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the room, the rest of the world fading away.

You swept his hair back, savoring every detail—the curve of his lips, the intensity in his eyes, the magnetic pull of his gaze. The urge to lose yourself in him was always so powerful. With a teasing flick of your tongue, you traced his lips, biting his lip ring, and he parted them willingly. A smile played at your mouth as you pulled back provocatively, but his lips chased yours immediately, hands slipping to the back of your neck, pulling you close. This time, you surrendered to him completely, feeling his smirk press against your mouth as you gave in.

Your eyes fluttered shut, breath catching as his soft lips pressed into yours, stealing the air right from your lungs. As you moved in, your tongue met his in a playful, lingering dance. The warmth of the kiss sparked something deep inside, each gentle caress a silent promise to savor every second together.

Still seated on his lap, your hands pressed to his chest, fingertips grazing over the firm planes beneath, as each languid pull of his lips melted you further .Jungkook’s hands squeezed your hips, urging you even tighter against him. The cool touch of his lip ring sent a thrill through you with every brush, a tantalizing contrast to the heat building between you.

Your hands slid up, fingers lacing behind his neck as your nails grazed his skin, slipping into his hair with a gentle tug. But just as you were close to getting more lost in each other, a piece of bread sailed through the air, smacking Jungkook on the head. You both broke the kiss, turning quickly to see where the unexpected interruption had come from.

Eunwoo, Jaehyun and Chan observed you with amused expressions, joined by the others on the other side of the room.

Crossing his arms over his chest, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he stared at you, Jaehyun said, “Aren’t you two awfully cozy over there?”

“Seriously, get a room!” Yugyeom shouted across the nearly empty restaurant.

“And don’t forget we’re still here, please.” Chan spoke, raising an eyebrow and grinning.

The others joined in with laughter, their teasing breaking the intimate bubble you and Jungkook had momentarily created. Your cheeks warmed even more as you buried your face in Jungkook’s shoulder again, caught between embarrassment and amusement.

“Yeah, okay, okay!” Jungkook said, laughing as he pulled back slightly, still holding you on his lap. “Can’t blame us for trying to celebrate our anniversary!”

“Right, right,” Eunwoo said, smirking. “Just don’t do it with us watching, yeah?”

As laughter filled the air, you felt the warmth of Jungkook’s arm around your waist, anchoring you to him amidst the joyful chaos.

But just then, you couldn’t help but let your gaze drift across the table. Drawn by an invisible thread, your eyes locked onto Mingyu’s. He was there again, clearly forcing a laugh as he stared at you. Your heart raced, the laughter around you fading into a distant murmur. Mingyu’s expression was unreadable yet charged, a blend of warmth and something profound swirling between you, and suddenly the light atmosphere seemed to shift again.

“Babe?” Jungkook’s voice pulled you back, concern etched across his features as he noticed your distraction. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked, forcing yourself to focus on him again, the affection in his eyes steadying you again. And then you lie, feeling like the worst person in the world again. “Nothing.”

“Are you sure?” Jungkook pressed, his brow furrowing. ”You're not uncomfortable, are you?”

“No. Really, I’m okay.” you insisted, the words slipping out a little too quickly as your eyes met his.

Eventually, as the night wore on, your head nestled against Jungkook’s shoulder, the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat started to lull you into a sleeping state. He turned to you, a gentle smile on his face. “So, what do you say we call it a night? I think we’ve celebrated enough for one evening.”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you replied, your heart swelling with affection.

Jungkook pulled you close, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “Let’s get you home.”

If you liked this feel free to let me know with a like, reblog, comment, whatever you prefer! ❤️

★ TAGLIST

#jungkook x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu fanfic #jungkook fanfic #seventeen fic #bts fanfic #97 line

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ethanmorales · 1 year ago

Text

Misconceptions

Part 1

Part Two - Frost

Pairing: Ethan Morales x fem reader 1.2k words Tags: @arij3lly @hitoshislut @bjrmaybank @ghostfaceorgirlfriend Warning: swearing

Ethan's POV

Miss u

He hesitated, phone in hand, over the send icon. Then shook his head.

still avoiding me?

He held the back button until it was gone.

hey stranger

Nope. He sighed audibly.

After deliberating for a few seconds, he gave up.

"Fuck this," he threw his phone on the bed and walked away from it.

He couldn't figure out why it was so damn hard to send this girl a stupid text. He didn't know why he wanted to text her in the first place.

They hadn't spoken in over a week and whenever he saw her, she would quickly walk in a different direction, steering clear of him. He kept telling himself the only reason it upset him is because he's not used to girls dodging him. It was always the opposite. He would be the one that ghosted them as soon as they got all clingy and emotional. But Y/N hadn't said anything to him, she just stopped talking to him and stayed away.

It was driving him crazy. He hadn't kissed her since that night outside his window. That was the last time they spoke as well. He knew she had been upset that night, but she never told him why. If he hadn't been upset as well, he would have pushed her harder for an answer. Though in all fairness, he was afraid of what the reason was. Y/N had a way with words. She was blunt. Always honest. Most times when she dared throw some of those truths in his direction, it would rile him up.

She noticed things nobody else did, so he tried damn hard to not show her much.

Thoughts of Y/N halted as he heard the familiar shouting outside his bedroom door. His parents were at it again. He rolled his eyes and walked over to his desk, grabbing his earbuds. Then he went back to his phone and opened Spotify; played all his music on shuffle. He fell back on his bed and closed his eyes.

He was on the third song when he heard a crashing noise cut through his music. He took his earbuds out and rolled off his bed, ran to his door and stepped out.

Another crashing noise; broken glass.

"Gooddammit," he muttered under his breath. He ran down the hallway and took a right to get to the kitchen.

Glass pieces scattered the kitchen floor. The flowers that had resided in the now broken vase lay on the bare tiles as well. He saw his parents in the corner. A broken plate on the counter next to them. His mom held a saucepan in her hands, her grip so tight her knuckles turned pale. His father stood less than 3 feet away, hands clenched. He had no doubt that he was the one that threw the vase.

"Are you guys done?" Ethan's voice was eerily calm.

Both his parents turned to him; their faces etched with surprise as they didn't notice him there before he spoke.

His mother scrambled around the frozen statue that was his father and walked carefully around the glass, reaching for him.

"Oh honey, I thought you were out. You're never here on Saturdays." She placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him away from the scene.

"I wonder why..." he mumbled, low enough to not be heard.

"What was that hun?"

"Nothing, ma. I'm leaving now. Can you guys not kill each other while I'm gone?" He looked her in the eye, saw the sadness, but mostly, how tired she looked. She smiled through it.

"We're fine, baby. Just a little disagreement." Her voice was light, but her words were tight.

Ethan sighed. "Call me if you need me."

She had guided him back to his room, so he was able to pick up his phone from its place on the bed.

"I'll be fine. You know he's not going to cross that line." She was trying to reassure him... or herself. Ethan wasn't sure.

He nodded and placed a kiss on her cheek. As he was walking out the door, he spoke loudly, making sure his father would hear.

"If he ever hurts you again, I'll kill him."

Once outside his home, he looks back to the front door for a moment, then sighs.

There was a time he would never have left while they were like that. Hell, there was a time he was afraid of even going to school because he thought he would come back to some tragic crime scene.

He would skip classes often to come home to check on them. His grades dipped. But his reputation had suffered more. Teachers took a strong dislike to him for being late often, being "irresponsible" and always missing important tests and assignments. They didn't know that his life revolved around making sure his parents didn't kill each other. Nobody knew. So before long, he decided to own what people thought of him. It made him feel like at least he was in control of something.

He was good at it too; being an asshole. He had no problem screwing around with anyone or with screwing anyone over. Most times, he could convince himself that he enjoyed it. Being this way. But when he was this person with y/n, well, it made him feel like a piece of shit.

That's why he wanted to see her, talk to her, kiss her. Just be around her in any way that he could.

Because it's been a long time since he was around someone that made him feel anything remotely positive. Or anything at all.

He unlocked his phone and typed in the text box.

Meet at our place?

Read. He waited a few seconds, but she didn't respond.

He typed again.

pls?

He smiled.

Y/N POV

I've been avoiding him for at least a week. The idea of having any kind of conversation with him was nerve-wracking. The sun was setting on the horizon; the sky turning into what appeared to be a watercolor painting, still all I could do was fret.

I stood under the robust oak tree that resided at old Woodridge Park. No one really comes here anymore, not since they built the new park two streets down. Aside from this tree, there wasn't anything remarkable about this place. It had long been since it was considered a park at all.

After five minutes, I spotted him in the distance. One hand shading his eyes from the sun as he looks around for me. I open my mouth to call for him at the same time as his eyes find me. He waves with his free hand. I slowly lifted my hand to wave at him, confused.

He seemed happy to see me, if the huge smile across his face was any indication. He even jogged over to reach me quicker. I frown at this.

“Hi.” he says as he reaches me, stepping under the shade of the big tree with me. Before I have a chance to reply, he pushes me forward, caging me with his body against the tree trunk. I gasped in surprise.

“What are you d-” He cuts me off with a quick kiss.

I gawk at him, even more confused than before.

“We haven’t spoken since last week,” I say.

“I know," is his response and then smiles, "I missed you.”

I roll my eyes. “You always say that".

“I always mean it.”

To be continued...

___________________

A/N: You are all awesome for reading and supporting part 1 of this and showing me that you liked it. It means more than you will ever know. Like I said before, I have not written in so long, so I was very insecure about writing again. So thank you for giving me the confidence to keep writing more of this. See you on the next one! xx

#ethanmorales #ethanmorales fanfic #ethan morales x reader #ethan morales fanfic #never have i ever season 4 #never have i ever #nhie s4 #nhie #michael cimino #michael cimino fanfic #ethan morales #ben gross #paxton hall yoshida #devi vishwakumar

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marty-parties · 2 months ago

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Happy September 15th! Which, if you didn't know, is 'leave a comment day.' I could be wrong though, since my source is a poll i took on my other blog - either way, i've come up with a fun idea.

In honour of ‘leave a comment day’ i’ve made a list of all of my favourite fanfics/authors that I can think of atm, and I wanna leave a nice little note about them and their work! This isn’t in any particular order, tbh it’s mostly me going through my AO3 bookmarks and re-reading all of my fav fanfic, haha.

I honestly had no idea 'leave a comment day’ was a thing, and if you didn’t either, show your favourite authors that you appreciate them! Anything from a heart emoji, or a key smash, or an insightful/heartfelt comment will do wonders in terms of showing/being appreciated.

A lot of these fics below have influenced me in some way, big or small, into how/what I write today. I guess I wanted to give thanks where I could. (It’s also just really sick to make a doc full of your favourite things,and I highly implore you to do it too, even if you don’t wanna post it. (That's totally fair, no pressure.) I keep going over in my mind what I like about each fic and ‘oh, this fic is different from that, but it’s still fantastic, oh and this fic, too,’ etc. it’s such a fun little snowball effect of positivity, i definitely recommend you do this if you have time and need a pick me up, haha.)

Little note, here, If you’ve seen that I’ve read your fic, but found you’re not on the list - it’s not that I don’t like you/or work! I probably very well did enjoy it! I found as I was making this list it was taking a lot of my free time. (Free time that i’d rather like to use writing or reading more, haha.) And, I feel like this list is already so wickedly long ‘cause I can't shut my mouth to save my life, to add more might be a little bit much to read all in one go. 😅

So, please don’t be upset if that’s the case! ily *mwah*

Also, there’s a few nsfw fics mention at the end, so if you’re a minor, pls buzz off, that content isn’t for you! I also recommend you check the links on some of these fics. I think I’ve included warnings where I think they’re due, but you know yourself better than i do. And, who knows, I might’ve accidentally missed a tag or two - So, please take care of yourself out there!

You’ll notice i’ve either included a source for either the authors tumbr, or AO3. I originally was going to try and do both, but i lost steam. Each story is linked to their author, on some site, promise.

Last thing, most of these fics are in the undertale fandom, tbh. It’s been my ride or die since highschool, so i’ve got a lot of love and things to say. You won’t find any frans or foncest here, i’m a reader insert girlie, simply put, and I don't care much for those tags on the fics i read.

Quick legend here:

Complete = complete work

Ongoing = still updating / i think they’re still update

Incomplete = either hiatus, or just incomplete

So, without further ado-

Road Side Attraction (Ongoing, teen+ rating) and Dirty Laundry (Complete, teen+ rating)

By Popatochisp (AO3) / popattochisp (Tumbr)

I’m going to be grouping together fics by author. Usually when I find one I really like, i really lurk around their tumblr/AO3 for others, haha.

–AND because I can’t think of one fic without the other. I find myself going back to read them both quite frequently, usually on rotation, they’re my little bedtime stories i keep on repeat in my mind, lol.

I mean, if you’re in the undertale fandom how can you not know about pop? For me, them (and luluwrites, among a few others i can’t remember rn,) –were really impactful to me growing up, as I think it was to a lot of people. (Tbh they’re still impactful, actually. I find myself going back even pretty often to read the same fics I read in high school.) They’re like the one piece of media you read in English class in high school that sticks with you throughout your adult life. (Looking at you, monkey’s paw.)

Pop has like 1,000 different au’s to choose from, all with fantastic and deep characterizations and lore.( I don’t know how they do it, i’m only writing a/b ONE skeleton rn, and i feel like a hamster on a wheel trying to get his characterization right. I couldn’t imagine doing that for every single au they have. God damn.)

I especially love Roadside Attraction, because of how easily i can relate to it? I’m deep in the sticks, a town more populated by livestock and people. When I read this, I can really put myself i MC’s shoes - b/c i’ve been there! (Hah, maybe not the dating skeletons part, granted, lol.) But it’s such a fantastic read, I love any and all media that has a vibe that it could take place in like a rural Montana. (think scenes in Twilight. Tall spruce/pine trees, misty morning, the possibility of seeing bigfoot, that sorta thing.)

And Dirty Laundry? Come on, dude. What a love letter to the swapfell universe, truly. If you haven't read it, you gotta. The world building, and the changing POV’s are so damn good, that every chapter feels crisp, and like you’ve got a really good inside scoop of each character. You can’t knock the characterization in this one, fellas. All the dynamics are so dead on - how Sans and Papyrus interact, how Sans and Alphys – dude, even how Sans and Toriel interact read so deeply in character. Everyone’s motives and ideas make sense to each character and the conflict that it brings. Big fan. 10/10, will definitely read again and again. (There’s also a ‘Menswear addition, where the reader has he/him pronouns if that’s your cup of tea!)

Bones Picked Clean (Incomplete, teen+ rating) and) Apéritifs (Ongoing, Mature rating)

By Skelezbian (tumblr) / luluwrites (on AO3)

Woof, where do I start?? I think Bones Picked Clean is another one of the first fics I remember being a really impactful piece of undertale fanwork that stuck with me. I know they’re not the one who created the whole ‘lodge’ scenario, (if you know, you know. Thank you @Tyrant_Tortoise, we’ll be seeing you next,) but they put a spin on it that is so interesting to see. The problems feel very realistic, like something that can easily happen in a house full of busy bodies with not enough communication. And, ohmygod the MC. My first love, truly. You get to see each set of skeleton brother’s, and watch how MC’s befriends them all. Granted, they have a track record of putting themselves in dangerous situations, for reasons revealed in the fic, but they’ve got a heart of gold, and a PHD in being a sweetheart.

The horrortale boys really shine here. I haven’t read much horrortale centric fanfics, but I really like the soft horrorale’ spin. The healing after the damage, the sunshine after the storm, watching the fauna overgrow, etc. I love watching characters grow when love is shown, and here, you can really see it here. I love domesticity, and using food as a love language– which is something this fic has in spades!

(I also love love swapfell characterization in this fic, chapter 13 does a REALLY good job of walking you through the mindspace of sf pap. But in terms of favourties, i’d have to say that would be Chapter 18. You get to see sf pap’s relationship with his brother! You really see/understand their dynamic, and how they really act as brothers behind closed doors. The other reason it’s a favourite is the inherit domesticity! Maybe I’m a sucker for the normie, slice of life, but how MC and sans chit chat at the start of the chapter is so cute! )

Warning: mention of past cannibalism, past murder, past abuse? I think that’s it, maybe check the tags to be sure. They sound scary, but I promise it’s a very sweet story.

Ohh, Apéritifs. First of all, what a clever name! I’m a sucker for word play, and this title alone really did it for me, haha. (if you don’t get it, please google ‘define Apéritifs’, and you’ll be just as jazzed as me.) They’re three stand alone one-shots featuring a different skeleton each chapter. I will say, I think chapter 3 is my fav. It’s actually heavily inspired me to make one of my one shots - it’s that good! I love the world building in it, as well. Really, you can’t go wrong. (Lulu really knows how to nail flirty dialogue, in very funny ways. ‘“so, you a fan of spare ribs, or just mine?”’ (ch. 3 – Apéritifs) KILLS ME, oh my god, what a funny flirty little one-liner.

Skeleton Squatters and The LandLady (Incomplete, teen+ rating)

By Tyrant_Tortoise (AO3) tyranttortoise (Tumblr)

Man– SSLL walked so we all could run. The amount of ‘lodge’ type fanfic dynamic i’ve seen, BECAUSE of this fic is wild. I might be wrong in saying this, but I think they were the one who came up with the whole ‘lodge’ type scenario, like all the reverse harems with all the au’s.

I haven’t read anything of theirs in a long time, but I wanna pay my respects where respects are due. Tyrant made one hell of an influential fanfic, enough so, that I’m pretty sure if I had a timeline of fandom evolution on undertale alone– I think there would be a noticeable difference in the before and after SSLL. Which, is so sick!! To have influenced a whole fandom with a concept that we’re still seeing it years later? (I get that trends sorta tend to last longer in fandoms than they do irl, but isn’t that such a neat thing to think about?)

I’m going to age myself (and maybe you, reading this a bit, but–) the first chapter was posted in 2017. 2017! Isn’t that nuts to think about? I was literally 17 at the time. No WONDER it stuck with me, my teenage brain was looking for all the serotonin it could get from fandoms. (wow. Things haven't changed all that much for me, haha.

Skeleton Ex Machina (Incomplete, teen+ rating)

By Cryptid_jack (AO3)

Ohh, okay, for all the SSLL fans out there, you probably already know who cryptid_jack is. And if not, I'll gladly tell you!

They’ve made this cool ass AI AU (it’s a LOT cooler than it sounds, I promise!) in their words, ‘a fanfic of a fanfic’ that’s actually in Skeleton Squatters and The LandLady (see above.) I’d recommend reading SSLL to fully understand this - although, if you’re good at picking up context clues, or maybe don’t mind missing some context, I don’t necessarily think you’d have to, since jack does a really good job of showing the reader everything that’s going on. (although, i really recommend you do.)

I think this au is so cool, it’s literally tagged as ‘Quarantine Sans’ (which, i’ll be the first to say, that maybe that name didn’t hold up too well, with recent 2020 events, an’ all that. Pandemic aside, it’s a cool name for an AU!)

It’s also really fun to see two friends in the fandom interact with each other's works like this. Even reading the note at the start of the fic, you can just feel the camaraderie and care that went into paying each other's proper respects.

Big big ups, hats off to proper manners and friendship!

All’s Fair In Love and (Prank) War (Incomplete, teen+ rating)

By torrikor (AO3)

Ohh, this is a short and sweet 2 chapter read. I don’t the author is going to circle back to it, but i suggest you read it anyways! the idea is so so good! In essence, MC and sf sans are roommates, and MC starts a prank war. I love love love their dynamic, their bickering is a real treat to read, that, coupled with their size difference? Sign me up!

My Favorite Thing (Complete, teen+ rating) and A Conversation Starter ( Complete, teen+ rating)

By peachwhimzy (AO3) peachwhimzy-things (Tumblr)

I’m a slut for their characterization of sf pap here, oh my god. Both are so so good, and i know i must sound like a broken record by saying I love how this author interpreted his character - but i can’t help it! So many people have good ideas and ways to showcase a character! Sue me.

A Conversation Starter is another one that’s inspired me to write a little one-shot. It’s so fantastically written, sf Papyrus and MC are at a bus station, both the first human and monster either have met. The world building is subtle, but wonderfully done. MC is so damn cute in this, and so is Papyrus, who’s really just trying to keep the conversation going, lol. There’s a delightful slice of life aspect to this.

Honestly, a lot of of Peach’s work feel very domestic, and sweet, and romantic. Sorta like i’m reading a studio Ghibli movie. Do yourself a favour and go check em out!

Late Night Shift Romance (Complete, teen+ rating)

By Inumaru12 (AO3)

The one fic on here that’s not a romance,how about that. (I guess that’s not technically true. There's possibly something budding, if you squint. I always read it as platonic friendship- it’s fanfic! Read it with whatever context you’d like!)

Burgerpants and MC are at the same convenient store late at night, and there’s a robbery. Friendship ensues. I love seeing the background character of undertale, and honestly, who doesn't relate to Burgerpants? Perpetually working shitty minimum wage jobs, trying to chase his dreams - that’s rough. I appreciate a character who can give a nod to class solidarity.. I think Inmuaru12 did so well writing his character, it feels like he was plucked out of the game himself, haha.

My Dearly Detested Delivery Man, (Complete, teen+ rating) and Black Coffee (Complete, general audiences rating)

By Little_old_lady (AO3)

Lol yet another set of swap fics, haha. (Yet another great example of different interpretations of the swapfell au!)

My Dearly Detested Delivery man is so fun, I love an ‘enemies to friends to lovers’ type of fic. I love the dialogue, it’s so funny! Like almost sitcom-esk with how good the one liners are. I think my favourite thing about writing fanfic is the dialogue- but reading what other authors have cooked up is such a treat, too. I love seeing authors with a certain brand of wit/cleverness they think the character would have, and seeing their own comedy bleed through, too sometimes. Little_old_lady does a good job showing the reader what you can gleam from the characters with how they talk to each other, in a way that sets the tone for their relationship. (whether it’s platonic, romantic, etc.) There’s so many ways you can show friendship, but I think the “passion” (lmao I don’t know what else to call it!) that’s at the heart of any argument is what can create the difference between friends arguing, vs two people who could be more. (Better put, I think what I like about two characters arguing is the sorta obvious chemistry it can create.)

Black Coffee does a good job about that too! I’ll be the first and last to say that I love any characters whose love language is ‘argue’ (lol even though irl I wouldn’t last long in any relationship like that, haha. ) I can be hit or miss with a soulmate au, but there’s another layer that I think undertale adds another level to in a soulmate au-since the game established that monsters and magic are real— that it almost feels a little more plausible of an au, than say, a soulmate AU of parks and rec? (no hate on the au or parks and rec, haha. I guess it just feels more “realistic” being that undertale is already a world made of magic, that magical soulmates, is one more step into weird that also makes sense?) I also love the bro-ship mc has with pap, in this one. Coming from someone who’s constantly worked retail/with customers one-on-one, somedays you want to go ape shit, so it’s nice to see an MC who can.

Half Your Age Plus Seven (Complete, teen+ rating)

By KassyKins

Ohhh, what a little treat this was to read. Tragedy! Romance! Love-rivalry! (NOT a love triangle!) People just Trying to do their best, they’ve got it all! This is another MC i’m in love with. They know what they love, and what they’re passionate about, but when push comes to shove, they’ll choose their family over themselves every single time. I think it’s a very admirable trait to have, integrity, and the ability to self-sacrifice. I think those two tropes/characteristics can really lead a story in so many interesting directions - weather it be an MC who’s too self-sacrificing, giving parts of themselves to everyone, leaving nothing for themselves, or an MC who’s pushing themselves through the ringer trying to do what they think is right according to their integrity, burning them up in the process. In this particular case, it’s maybe a little bit of both, coupled with (sad) a slice of life meet cute, with a healthy dose of growing pains.

There’s something about it that always hits extra hard to me, the ‘thrust into the lime light, or power, or a position they have no business being in. But, they’ve got people on the line, their people to take care of, so by god they’ll try.’ There’s something so tragic and poetic about it – but who knows, maybe I'm waxing poetic about the eldest daughter trope.

This fic really nicely written, and there’s so many fun hijinks and shenanigans in there to make you chuckle. Featuring another MC who’s able to shout at their boss and get away with it- big ups from me, lets goooooo working class!

Fair warning, this is a notable age gap from MC and swapfell gold sans. It is talked about in the story as well. I personally don’t mind it too much, but if that’s a no-go from you, you’ve been warned. (Maybe just check the tags on this one, (spoilers!) I know someone gets pregnant later. But, I know that can freak some folks out, so, heads up.)

There’s some smut mentioned, but it doesn’t go into detail about it, so i’ll leave it above the NSFW section. Just fair warning! (Maybe not a story for minors? I don’t know, read at your own discretion if you are?)

For the smut mention, be warned that I couldn’t find any age in their bio, do with that what you will.

And Now It’s Crystal Clear(Complete, teen+ rating)

By nighttimelights (AO3)

Oh, man. What another banger read.

Fun fact- i read this in . . . highschool? But i forgot the name of the fic,and it took me FOREVER, im talking YEARS before I found it again. I actually gave up the hunt, and just found it again one day– what an utter joy that was for me to rediscover it. I felt like I ran into my highschool sweetheart at the grocery store after not thinking about them in years.

It’s really cool concept on the whole ‘machine gaster’ situation. I respect someone so damn much who incorporates a bit of sci-sfi in their fics, I have no idea how to write it, but I love to read it/see it in media. So to see it, and understand it, and how it’s relevant to the plot is a real treat!

I also love the ending. :)

Wish Bone (Ongoing, Explicit rating)

By timeofjuly

I could not, in good conscience make this list without including my bestie, the OG and probably the reason why I'm actually posting what I'm writing today. I really can’t sing their praises high enough – but for the sake of comment day, I sure can try, haha.

July really does a good job of creating a wicked atmosphere in her works. The stark difference between Wish Bone (a political romance drama) and Resisting the Currents (reverse harem, but the gf likes you too. It's linked in the nsfw section, please check it out if you can.) is so incredible – they’re really an author that can do both, haha. Even though both fics are so different, what they have in common is their ability to get you right in your feelings, in whichever way the story calls for.

In Wishbone – Flint (the MC) has a bad case of being a massive asshole, that’s verging on becoming chronic. Their paranoia has caused their head to permanently be a swivel, and they’ve developed a taste for their own brand of Justice (however malicious as it is.) That sounds like the start of a vigilante story, but in all truth, Flint is a dick. Which, is another thing July is great at! Writing MC’s who are assholes! You love to hate them, you hate that you love them!

This is a MC x sf Pap, and later X sf Sans as well, If you’re hoping for a sappy romance, you’ve come to the wrong place. This is a reluctant soulmate AU fic, a fantastic spin on the traditionally very romantic au, a meet ugly, sort of vibe. If you love arguing, political drama, fantastic world building, and a very, sad, broken MC – you’re going to love this. Hell, even if how I described it doesn’t sound appealing to you – I implore you to check it out anyways. July will absolutely knock you on your ass with her writing. By god, there’s themes, motifs and symbolism that I'm not smart enough to analyse, let alone talk about. Whether July intentionally put them there or not, I have no idea, but they’re there and it adds another layer of depth in a delightfully, painful soul crushing way.

Go, see what I mean for yourself!

Tbh, i feel like I could go on forever about what I love about their fics, and my little personal theories on them – but I feel like I already look pretty unhinged. For the sake of my ego, i’ve gotta move on.

In terms of warnings, I think I sorta covered them? There's Plenty of anger, and hatred, ummm monster phobia? There might be some sorta nsfw stuff down the line, thus the rating, but as it stands now it’s smut free! Just a heads up, I suppose.

In Two weeks time and Red is my favorite color

By who_wants_a_muffin (AO3)

My other current ongoing fav, in two weeks time! Another swapfell sans one, to the surprise of absolute of no one, haha.

This MC is a dude! A man! Which is a refreshing change up, I don’t think there’s many many fics out there with a male leaning/male dominant MC’s. The characterization of MC is very good,

is so so good, it’s and X sf sans, and he’s got the exact right amount of snark and sass to keep you coming back, haha. (Or, I guess in this case, he keeps coming back. MC works at the pool he frequents.) Their banter is really fun to read, bordering on bickering, really. They’re almost like a little old married couple, haha. Which is to say, you can really feel the chemistry they have even though they’re basically strangers.

sf Papyrus is such a little shit in this one, i love it. He’s perpetually the youngest brother, and how Muffin writes him is so snarky and funny, and very endearing.

The chapters are short and sweet, enough so that you can read it a few times in the same day and still enjoy it, even though his updating schedule is crazy fast! I don’t know how he does it, but they’re just motoring along, haha. I get excited whenever I get an email saying Muffin updated. It’s like a little treat to brighten your week.

I’ve been reading a bit of his other stuff, and he just gets it! Like the dynamic between MC and fell sans in Red in my favorite color, is just perfect. I love the soft!underfell au, and he does a really good job of capturing how underfell sans straddles the line between being a bad boy, and a boy that's not all that bad.

I also love the notes he writes, ‘Hello gays and other assorted sillies!’ (from Chapter 2 in Red in my favorite color,) Like COME ON, that’s so funny!

– Undertale related

Bonley Hearts Club (Demo available, Ongoing, teen+ rating)

Bonely Hearts Club (tumblr)

owl-bones (tumblr) is the Developer and Director and (self proclaimed! I’m not being mean!) Lead Nerd. Here is a link to their cast, although it might not be fully updated. (It’s \a big one, so I'm going to leave it as a link.)

I don’t even know how to begin to explain my love for Bonely Hearts Club. It’s a fanmade game, made entirely of love, which you can tell, even before you play it. The sprites are so cute, and fantastic, and the writing is so in character and on point, do not get me started on the voice acting - which is also incredible. I’m not kidding, when I first played the demo, I immediately followed the voice actors on tumblr after, haha.

This is the kinda piece of art that you just stand back and look at it, and just go ‘wow’. It’s such a big undertaking! I know very little about game development, but from what i vault remember from my comp sci class - is that is’s hard. Mad respect from me to Owl, and everyone a part of the team/process.

This is off topic, but I wonder if Toby Fox has read any of these fics, or played the demo of this dating sim, like in the same way Alex Hursh has played a bit of Swooning Over Stans: A Grunkle Dating Sim. I’d pay serious money to have Toby play the dating sim demo. God, could you imagine the energy in that livestream? It would be goddamn electric.

[ Soul Redacted ] (Completed, teen rating) and The Great Noodle Jape (Completed, teen rating)

By nighttimepixels (game jolt) nighttimepixels (tumblr)

// active twitter lethalhoopla

//active tumblr lethalhoopla

Good god, talk about a . . .what, triple, quadruple threat? There’s nothing nighttimepixels can’t do. They write, they make art, they’ve made two complete games, (and the beginning of another,) and they animate!! Like oh my god! Another love letter to the fandom, everything they do is so so good.

[Soul Redacted] is a very cool rpg sidescroller explorer/mystery, and i’d say a touche of sci-fi in there, too. It has fantastic writing, and features Q! (from Cryptid_jack au, in Skeleton Squatters and The LandLady fromTyrant_Tortoise fic! see above for all!) Truth be told, I got a little scared playing this. Granted, I played it at like 2 am in the dark - and I am a coward lol. I don’t think the average person will get scared, but fair warning anyways, haha.

They’re not into the undertale fandom anymore, I don't think. Which is sad to hear, but also understandable. It’s not fun making art and other creations if you’ve lost that spark there. However, if you’re a mass effect fan, they’re making a bunch of art on their other bog. I personally really love their art style, so i’ll gladly keep checking back. Also, there’s so much undertale content on their blog that you’ll be good for a long while. And if not, you can always go back and look again! If you can’t experience it for the first time, the next best thing is to experience it again.

Warning: I think there’s some flashing lights at some point? Maybe double check the tags on that one if that’s a concern for you.

The Great Noodle Jape is so damn cute. As night put it, ‘a visnov style silly whodunit’, which I think it captures it perfectly. The writing is so fun, all the characters feel very well written/in character, and i love how they all interact with each other. As well, the sprites are so fantastic! Night has that kind of art style where you just know it's theirs without needing to confirm.

No warnings that I could think of, other than you’ll be wishing for the experience of playing it for the first time once you’re done.

– non-Undertale related fics -

Cult of the Lamb—

The Rehabilitation of Death

By bamsara (AO3) / bamsara (Tumblr)

WOOF. I am an ‘happy ending angst’ lover, and a ‘energies to lovers slow burn,’ and this fic takes the cake on both regards. Truly, who could pine better than a god, who’s named literally ‘The One Who Waits’? What an aptly named character for one of the major troupes in the fic, haha.

But for all you freaks out there (lol me) who don’t mind horror some of the time, I recommend reading it! Even if you’re not into CoTL, the pining is so goddamn good! (Considering it’s about gods, they’ve been pining for hundreds of years without even knowing it– the slowest of burns, like oh my GOD.) Bam also is known to post longer chapters- so if you like a read that lasts a couple days, PLEASE do yourself a favour and check it out. I don’t wanna spoil anything, but they’re getting to the part where the main couple is starting to be nice to each other, plus, the subplot B couple is starting to sorta shack up too. There are so many good, funny dynamics that are in this fic, that I don’t have enough words to properly explain them.

They also make fantastic artwork and sketches for just about each scene in their fics - which for all you visual girlies out there (myself, haha.) I think you’d appreciate it! I wish I was that type of triple threat, but I think i’d burn out too quickly if I was also drawing scenes of my fics – which is why I think it’s so impressive when other authors/artists do it!

They do art streams pretty frequently, too, and they make stickers too! A true triple threat,

Just, fair warning- like Cult of the Lamb (the game the fic is based off,) this fic mentions a lot about gore, and death, and mention of cults and religion. So if any of that is a turn off, or something you don’t like to read about, this might not be your cup of tea.

Non-fanfic Undertale fandom related material–

FNAF—

Solar Lunacy (Incomplete, Mature)

By BamSara

(I kept these two separate on the account they’re different fandoms, lol)

I was very briefly into the FNAF fandom, I only read a handful of fics— but Solar Lunacy really stuck with me!

Robots with trauma! An overly curious MC! I think what I like most about this, is how driven mc is? Usually it gets them into trouble, haha, but I love that troupe where the MC really puts themselves through the wringer looking for answers. (I.e like ford and bill from gravity falls.)

What’s not to love? For all you robot fans out there, it’s pretty sick! I’m sure if you dig deep enough on Bam’s tumblr you’ll find all their old DCA fanart, and draw parts from this fic.

Fair warning! Scary robots, the regular tags of the fnaf fandom (past child abuse/past child murder), robots don’t understand boundaries, maybe check the tags on this one, just in case.

Sleuth Jesters (Series!) (Complete, teen+ and mature ratings, depending on which fic in the series you’re reading.)

By naffeclipse (AO3)

This was the other FNAF fanfic that really stuck with me when I had the robot bug. (lol) I’ll be the first one to admit that I’m not overly into the whole ‘mafia boss’ side of self-ships, but if I had to choose one to read for the rest of time – it would definitely be this one. It’s like a detective noir, where mc is the vigilante who’s only law they follow is their grey moral code - but usually it’s for the good! So you can’t really feel to bad about that, haha.

Tbh it’s almost hard to verbalise what I like about it, it’s one of those fics that give you a feeling you can’t name, and it’s so frustrating to have this unnamed feeling you can’t quite pinpoint! (PLEASE tell me some of ya’ll know what i’m talking about!)

I feel so tragically for the MC, if that makes sense? They’re constantly putting themselves in harm's way for answers, and for others. They’re selfless, yet selfish, and they never let anyone too close, except for when they do. There’s some heavy themes and very toxic relationships, but there’s a happy ending!

Ahh warning for a very possessive, toxic robot, and kidnapping in later fics - i suggest you read the tags just in case! Bam is really good at tagging triggers accordingly,

Fair warning: blood and injury, very possessive character, toxic relationships (one sided), mention of injury, violence, kidnapping, guns, gunshot wounds, shootouts, broken bone- probably some more. I recommend checking the tags on this one as well, just to be on the safe side.

NSFW Below – Minors get out of here pls!

A quick mention, before I get into this–

I tried to check and make sure all the authors below are all well over 18, i’ve indicated which link has their age posted in their bio’s if you’d like to check for yourself. If I couldn’t find it, I made sure to be clear that I don't know.

Just doing some light housekeeping, here. You should also check the tags on each fic for what kinda . . . stuff it has, lol.

Play With Me (Incomplete, explicit rating)

By grimrester (AO3) / grimrester (tumblr/ age in bio here.)

Oh my god. Oh my god! For all you queers on the ace/aromatic spectrum just like me, this is the fic for you!

I could easily go back and read this again and again - tbh I already do. It’s plot with porn, and then it turns into porn with plot, but emotional! love the relationship between MC and Sans. There's something about their intimacy that’s so casual (maybe not the right word for what I mean,) but vulnerable, and realistic, but very enthusiastic and personal? I don’t think I even have the right words to properly and fully describe what all I like about this fic, but what I do know is that I like it a lot, haha.

I like that it shows sex and intimacy in a different way. I know it’s pretty common for undertale smut to have some kind of ecto junk involved - this one doesn’t. I personally, like the creativity involved in thinking different ways a person can get off that isn’t just penetration. (Don’t get me wrong, that’s in here too, but that comes a little bit later.)

I’m also s Big Fan of the sf sans interpretation here. It’s like a soft swapfell, one of my favourite version of him. I said it already, but there’s so many ways a person can go with his character, and I really really like the worldbuilding. It’s a nice subtle nod told through the characters. I love his relationship he has with Alphys, it all feels so incredibly in line with the character, even though he’s a swapfell version, he still does have some sort of friendship with her – even if to him it’s under a guise. To me, it’s one of those things that you can see the core traits that make him a sans, and that’s a hard needle to thread! Just an all around great character study.

ALSO, I think I have a particular penchant for MC’s with oddly specific niche jobs?? In my heart of hearts, Pixy’s (the name of the arcade MC owns in Play with Me) is like right next door to Faunas (the name of the pot store my MC owns in Into The Weeds.)

Warnings: i’m pretty sure this one is tagged accordingly on AO3, so i’m not going to tag it all here, just know there’s smut.

Something Good (Ongoing, Mature)

By skeletonlvr22 (AO3)

WARNING: No age in bio that I could find. This fic isn’t at the smut yet - but becuase of the 'eventual smut' tag, and for the sake of transparency, i’m letting you know. (I’m like 90% sure this person is an adult though, since there’s a tag thanking their husband for their help.) Do what you will with this info, you’ve been warned.

This is another one of my current reading obsessions lately!

I think i’m realizing I have a particular penchant for some of the lesser known au’s? (niche, I suppose?) Fellswap Gold Pap sets out on his own in only his trusty bus, to explore the surface above, away from the (over-) protective eyes of his brother.

This is the escape fantasy of my dreams. A stray skeleton on the adventure of his lifetime, seeing the sights and the city lights. The romance portion in the later chapters is so damn cute too, it’s very much the ‘first love’, type of romance that’s very sweet and charming. (also, c’mon, who doesn't love a coming of age story?) Love love seeing a Fellswap Gold fic, and a Papyrus based one, too! People are so damn creative, I never would've ever thought of this plot for a fic, but now that I know it’s real, I love it!I I’m really not kidding when I say it’s prime escape fantasy material - I think it would be the cats ass to have a van and travel across north america, thanks skeletonlv22 for letting me vicariously live through Pap in your fic. :)

Warning: Only the ones i’ve given at the top! It’s a very cute story. I put it in the NSFW section b/c of the eventual smut, there’s none in it now – although, they certainly are starting to get flirty.

Resisting the Currents (Ongoing, Explicit)

By timeofjuly (AO3) timeofjuly (Tumblr)

WARNING: No age in bio that I could find, but I’ve been chit-chatting with July for months now and i’m 99.99% sure they’re well above 18. It’s not my info to give out, and i’m trying to be transparent on my end, do with this info what you will!

Edit: age confirmed in the tags!

This is easily another fav of mine for sure.

Resisting the Currents is a reverse harem fic (with all the au’s!) but with a twist - the gf likes you too! It’s a refreshing take on the ‘reverse harem’ tag you see often in the undertale fandom - and holy shit, truly ‘only love can hurt like this.’ The relationship they have with the MC is so painful, verging on devastating. There’s love there! There is! But there’s also hurt, and a lot of it, the kind that doesn’t just go away, not on its own, anyway. I’m trying not to spoil too much, because I truly think you should read it for yourself.

But, Oh My God, their MC? Holyshit- I have a(n aforementioned) weakness for impressionable MC’s, oftentimes, I end up loving them more than the love interest in the fics. I can’t help it! The electrician is personable, relatable, and funny! They’re a lovable goofball with a rough past, with a history of doing the wrong things.They're recovering/recovered? (I’m not too sure which is the correct term, here,) drug addict, and they’ve come a long way! They’ve changed a lot, and I love love love to see that kind of realism in an MC.

If you’re reading RtC (which you should be,) you can 100% see me going apeshit in the comments trying to figure out what the elections and Quinn’s deal is. (ESPECIALLY chapter 11!

(Sorry if they’re not coherent, at one point, those theories made sense in my head, but looking back on them, I think they’re more so like the crazed ramblings of a conspiracy theorist, haha.)

This fic is in the NSFW section b/c it does have a chapter where two characters get it on, but i can’t say that’s what the whole story is about. I put it down here to be safe rather than sorry, haha.

Ahh, fair warning, there is past drug mention, and past abuse child abuse I think? Plus, a bit of mention of religion and the negative effects that can have on a person. Read the tags just to be safe!

Shark Teeth (Complete, Mature rating)

By luluwrites (AO3) skelezbian (Tumblr)

Warning: No age in bio that I could find. If it makes you feel any better, they joined AO3 in 2012, while I joined in 2016 and i’m 24 currently. I’m not good at math, but I think we’re all in the clear here. But like always, do with this info what you will!

I will say, this isn’t full on smut - it’s saucy, but I’m trying to keep anything suggestive, kinda together?

Not to divulge myself too furiously here, but uh–There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about Shark teeth. C’mon. Y'all get it, right? It’s just a funny, saucy little number! A funny moment that happens between couples that we get to see. There’s so many different interpretations on the fellswaps, (I know i’ve said it a lot,) but Lulu’s just happens to be one of my favourites interpretations!! Sf Sans is a very precarious character, and I think Lulu does a good job showing that the swaps can be written in a multitude of ways, he doesn’t just have to be the dickhead all the time, lmao. They really do a good job showing how he shines, y’know?

Warning: teeth and/or biting? Not full on smut, or anything, but it is saucy. So, take that into consideration.

The Fulfilling Ordeal of Being Known (Complete, explicit)

By nighttimepixels (tumblr) / // active on twitter lethalhoopla (age mention in bio here)

Ohhh, for all my sapphics out there – you’re going to love this.

Blade (fem horrortale sans, who’s apart of her ‘Lillytale’ au, a sapphic take on all the au’s,) and MC settling down for a nice night in, MC playing breath of the wild (BIG UPPS, great game, lol) while Blade plays some games of their own - hopefully you get the picture.

Just some great lady-lovin’ smut! Size difference! If you love the pillow princess treatment, this is the fic for you.

Warnings: (Lesbians? Queers?) really going to town on each other, def NSFW. Check the tags before reading, it’s nothing Dead Dove, or anything - just want you to be aware.

mothiepixie (tumblr / age in bio here)

mothiepixie (twitter, age in bio here too)

No fic to tag, but their art? AHHHHH. They’re more active on twitter than tumblr since The Ban, but ohhh their art is very, very good. Very great if you like fictional hunky men, and beautiful shapely ladies.

Warnings: tasteful (shameless) smut, you’ve been warned, lol

Woof. That was a lot of typing. If you made it this far, circle back to one of the recommendations above and get to reading!

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stormingfrost · 1 month ago

Text

Wonders of the Invisible World

Tags: Body horror, major character death, Implied/Referenced child abuse, original characters, pitch/sandy

summary:

Through hundreds of years of strange things happening all over the world, finally someone sees. The Bennett family is now at the forefront of every children's tale - except, now, they learn that these tales are not only real, but much, much darker than they first thought.

For @rotg-halloween day four: castle

Read it on AO3

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

chapter four: Castle

under cut

“So Santa is a giant Lovecraftian creature?”

Jamie nodded. Uncle Andy sighed. Aunt Vivian looked at his mom, nudging her.

“You alright?” Mom nodded, giving her a look that meant they would talk later. She held her new present, the one that Santa gave her last minute, close to her. It was still unwrapped

“He said he loved the children of the world,” Jamie said. The way those giant hands cupped him and Sophie… gentle and nothing short of caring. He was wondrous and terrifying.

Jamie looked down at the baby tooth in his hand.

The what-ifs were racing in his head. He saw the boogeyman. He talked to Santa. What if the tooth fairy visited him? He knew his mom was also wondering the same thing. She kept glancing at him, a worried look on her face as she looked at the gap in his mouth.

“What was the thing in the woods?” Jamie asked. Vivian froze.

“I’m not sure,” Andy said. “Some sort of zombie? He was a boy. I saw his grave. He was fourteen when he died. We took him to the colonial cemetery, and he showed us his grave and then told us to…” Andy sighed, grief weighing him down.

“He wanted us to end his suffering,” Vivian finished. “We buried him.”

Jamie looked down.

Not a monster. Instead, the monster was actually just a poor, suffering undead creature.

It had calmed him but also made him feel a bit guilty. He was scared of the poor boy.

They were spending the night at Grandma’s. Sophie and Jamie got their own rooms, and so did Mom, but Andy and Vivian had to sleep in one, on two different beds that were perpendicular to each other. Jamie guessed that Mom’s room would’ve sat empty if she never married as well, but since it was given to her, they didn’t take it away after the divorce.

He still remembered being angry at his grandparents. They didn’t support the divorce and nearly stopped talking to his Mom. They only started talking when they realized they wouldn’t see him or Sophie again.

He sat the tooth under his pillow. He heard Vivian and Mom whispering.

“What if she’s real? What if she takes the tooth?”

“I’m not sure.”

Jamie lay down, staring up at the ceiling. Ordinarily, he’d stay awake for as long as he could, waiting to catch the tooth fairy. After seeing a zombie, the boogeyman, and Santa, he was sure she was real.

But did he want to see her? A little bit. He was sure she wouldn’t be anything like he expected.

He turned on his side, staring at the door. Light drifted in from the hallway.

A strong, unnatural drowsiness fell over him. He blinked his eyes open. The lull of sleep washed over him.

And then he was awake again. It was dark.

There was someone in the room with him, whispering. It wasn’t a familiar voice.

“Left central incisor. Look at how he flossed!”

Jamie grabbed his flashlight, pointing it at the voice.

The woman looked towards him, a look of surprise on her face. She was mostly a bird-like creature, with legs like a bird and feathers covering her body. Her arms and face were the only human features Jamie could make out. Her wings flapped.

“Hello,” he said. The woman shook herself.

“Greetings.”

“I knew you’d come.” The woman smiled at that.

“Of course! You’ve got wonderful teeth. Shame about the memories though.”

“Memories?”

The woman nodded and hummed, and then Jamie remembered his father. He shivered.

“See? They are bad. Wouldn’t it be better if you didn’t remember the bad things?”

“I don’t know…” Jamie debated. “It’s a big part of my life.”

The Tooth fairy dismissed Jamie’s words.

“But it hurts you. Don’t you want to be happy? I wish I could go back and stop him. But I am not a creature of time. However, I am the ruler of memories. I can make you forget and remember anything I please. I control your perception of time and life.”

Jamie suddenly regretted waking up.

“Don’t mess with my head,” he snapped. The Tooth fairy clicked her tongue.

“Foolish children shouldn’t talk to me like that. Now you’ve forced my hand.”

Jamie got up.

“No! Give my tooth back!”

Then his mind went blank.

“What would you like to remember?” Her voice whispered.

“The names of planets? Your mother’s name? Your native language?”

He couldn’t recall his own name. He looked at her in alarm.

“Stop.”

“You should know better, after all you’ve seen. Don’t talk to me like that.”

Memories flooded him. His mother. His name. His sister. His friends. The names of his teachers. The answer to the math problem that he forgot on the latest quiz. The details of the silver locket his mom always wore. The one time he gave a book report and tipped over his shoelaces.

He slumped over, exhausted.

“A pain-free memory is best, Jamie. Don’t worry. I’ll keep your memories safe. I have a palace where I keep them. They will be guarded and protected.”

With that, she was gone. Jamie looked around.

Then he grabbed the pillow, looking under it. He got twenty dollars from her.

He looked back to where she was.

Why was he angry at her? He couldn’t recall.

Morning came, and he shuffled upstairs, to where there were warm pancakes and the smell of coffee. His mom smiled at him.

“She’s real,” he said, holding up the twenty. “I talked to her.”

“Did… anything happen?” Jamie struggled to remember their conversation.

“She said I have nice teeth and I floss well.”

“You got a twenty from her?” Andy said. “Right on, little dude!” Jamie shrugged. He still had that feeling. Like he was forgetting something important. But he couldn’t remember what it was.

“Good morning, Jamie!” Grandpa said, coming up behind him. Jamie nodded, distracted.

“What do you say?” Grandpa nudged him.

“Dad!” His mom scolded. “Be nice.”

“Well, we don’t want him to end up like his father, now, don’t we?” Mom got up in an instant, dragging Grandpa out of the dining room.

“Wow,” Andy said. “That’s a new low for him. I’d be surprised if she talks to him again.”

Jamie looked up.

“What does he mean?” Andy sighed.

“Your dad wasn’t nice. He was comparing you not verbally answering him to your dad’s abuse.”

Jamie’s eyebrows scrunched together.

“I… I don’t remember my dad.”

Andy looked down. He looked at the twenty-dollar bill in Jamie’s hand.

“Did the Tooth fairy do something to you?” He asked urgently. Jamie shrugged.

“I dunno. I don’t remember a lot of the conversation.”

Andy frowned.

“Joyce,” he called. “Something’s wrong.”

#rotghalloween2024 #rise of the guardians #rotg #toothiana #jamie bennett #my fanfic #I love the idea of dark! Tooth

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alpaca-clouds · 3 months ago

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German Solarpunk - Did I Mess This Up?

A bit ago, I was doing the thing I will do from time to time: Go through book releases on Amazon (yeah I know Amazon sucks, but what can I do? I literally do not even have a small bookstore around) and putting Solarpunk-stuff on my wishlist (hint: My birthday is in a month). However, doing so I realized one thing: There is a surprising number of German novels that are listed as Solarpunk... With only one issue: None of them are punk. Or even much solar. And I cannot help but wonder: Is this my fault?

Now, this question might seem presumptuous, or even narcissistic, until I tell you something else: Solarpunk was very much a non-topic in German Scifi/Fantasy writing until 2021. Looking through google it was mentioned in like two or three blogs, and there was one group in Hamburg, who was promoting the movement-part of Solarpunk. But writing wise? Yeah, not really a thing.

And then, during the pandemic, in summer of 2021 I made a thread on twitter about the genre. And somehow that thread went viral. People loved it. They loved the idea of Solarpunk. And especially in the pandemic, it just seemed the time was rife for this. I got a chance to write essays on the topic and the genre for several fantasy publications in Germany between summer 2021 and summer 2022.

And those books that I found on Amazon tagged as Solarpunk? Yeah, they released between 2022 and today. Which is why I have to wonder: Did I mess this up? Did I not communicate it well enough?

I did indeed never talk about the punk factor. Mostly because back then I assumed it was a given. Sure, I knew that Germans were not that big on doing the whole punk aspect with Cyberpunk either. I just thought, well...

I am not going to name names. But let me just go through some of the stuff I found.

A trilogy releasing between 2022 and 2024 about an AI taking over a world. Very much a Cyberpunk setting, though not with particularly strong anticapitalist themes. There is not even a lot of environmental or renewable stuff in this story. No fucking clue why it was tagged as Solarpunk.

A fantasy trilogy that started releasing early 2023 (and is not yet released in full), which only thing that might imply Solar-anything is that it features a sun goddess as an important character.

A game with its own short story collection, which is simply a fantasy post-apocalyptic setting, though at the very least it does have some environmental themes.

A scifi novel about slavery - that very much also has a Cyberpunk setting.

Another scifi series about people in Cyberspace. This one I know was originally just tagged Cyberpunk and when Solarpunk started to get hyped, the author just added the tag to it.

A fantasy fairytale retelling, in which I know for a fact not even a single environmental theme is featured.

And I am honestly just wondering: What is happening here? Do people not understand what Solarpunk is? Do they not understand that it is more than an aesthetic? I definitely made that one quite clear. Or do they just use the tag because right now it definitely is a very hyped topic in Germany. I mean, like fuck. The news made a segment about Solarpunk earlier this year! The bloody main news show we have in our country. A variety of news papers also wrote about it during the last two years.

Or to put it differently: Given the genre gets hyped here right now, there is a good chance that you might actually be abled to push something onto one of the big publishers by tagging it with Solarpunk.

And I... I mostly feel frustrated. Because people really do just ignore what the genre is about. Hell, half of the stuff does even ignore the aesthetic and just goes... Well, I don't bloody know what the people are thinking.

But a part of me wonders, whether I should have made more of an effort in communicating the punk aspects. Sure, I talked about how it is anti-capitalist and all that, but... Yeah, honestly. I don't know.

#solarpunk #lunarpunk #germany #german solarpunk #german novels #scifi #clifi #science fiction #climate fiction #punk

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starshineandbooks · 6 months ago

Text

Bottom of the river (long way down) chapter two

Pairings: Grimmons, Tuckington, Docnut

Rating: T

Summary: Some of the Sim troopers decide to talk with the kids. Shockingly, the kids have some feelings about this mess. Unfortunately, between Kai arriving and Simmons putting his foot in the mouth, there's a lot to deal with.

Warnings: cursing, timetravel, canon divergence, implied/referenced child abuse, Simmons Fucks Up

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know

If you would like to be tagged on the next part let me know

Word count: 3,647

Masterpost / previous chapter

-------

Grif prides himself on sleeping in. Which is what got him in trouble today when he nearly missed breakfast, and Simmons lectured him.

But he's not feeling it today, so as soon as he's shown up to enough things for Simmons to leave him alone, he goes to hide.

As he settles in his bed, he applauds himself on his hiding. If he's missing, who would think he'd hide in his room?

Just as he's really settling in, he hears a knock at the door.

Shit.

Grif stays quiet.

"Dad. I know you're in there. I just want to talk." Lani calls through the door.

Oh. Well, at least it's not a job.

Grif considers his options. But he figures any kid he raised will probably just do what they want.

"I'm coming in." She warns before coming into the room. She shuts the door behind her, though.

How polite.

"Hey." Grif says from his spot on his bed.

"Papa's looking for you." Lani inform him.

Grif groans. This must be Simmons's new tactic. Sending their daughter to get him to do work. "I'm not going."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm not a snitch. I wanted to talk to someone who's calm and ask what the hells are going on."

"Huh."

"What?"

"You're not freaking out. I dunno, seems like you might be after time-traveling backward and meeting your nervous wreck of a father." Grif shrugs. Though he can't help looking the teen over and wondering if she's hiding something.

"Nah, I had my freak out last night. Then I remembered it could be way fucking worse."

"Yeah, probably."

"I fully expect Kai to show up sooner or later, by the way. She had that look."

"The "I'm going to fuck shit up by trying to help" look?"

"That's the one."

"Fuck."

Lani laughs, moving to sit on Simmon's bed. She's wearing a kevlar undersuit this time.

Good. Those kids should probably have armor. Active warzone and all.

"So, what the fuck is going on?" She asks.

Grif laughs, looking to the ceiling. "Too much man. We got split up thanks to the Feds. Everyone not at the meeting yesterday is with the enemy."

"Yikes my dude."

"Right?"

Lani gives a lazy smile. Crossing her legs at the ankles. "Is papa avoiding me?"

"What?"

"He leaves anywhere he can when I'm around."

"Oh. Uh- Simmons dosen’t do well with change. Or girls.."

"Fuck he's weird."

Grif ignores the urge to defend Simmons. Which is stupid, because Simmons is weird. And it's not like Grif is in a position to defend him.

"He can be." Grif says as he glances to Lani.

She's got a fond look on her face, mostly.

"Hey dad," She says, "do you know anything about Felix?"

"Not really. He's some mercenary."

"Ew."

"Right?"

"I miss my kitchen." Lani frowns, "They won't let me use theirs."

"Why not?"

"They're homophobic? I don't know."

"What dicks."

Lani laughs again, "I also miss self care nights."

"Damn kid, is there anything you don't miss?"

Lani thinks for a moment and then grins. "I don't miss school. Like at all.

"Good I won't raise a fucking nerd."

"Do you know anyone who can help me get contraband?"

Grif looks at her, curious as he asks, "What do you want?"

"Face masks and nail stuff. "

"I guess I can ask around."

She smiles, "Thanks dad!"

Grif has a sinking feeling that he spoils the fuck out of his kid and that she can play him like a cheap kazoo. But that's for later.

Right now he has to figure out how to get the things she asked for help with.

He should also probably try to get Simmons to suck it up and talk to their kid but that's a goal for later. He needs more sleep before that.

"Hey dad?" Lani asks.

"Yeah kid?"

"Any advice on timetravel?"

"Say fuck it and live your life?"

"Yeah... of fucking course." Lani frowns, looking at her lap. "You're right."

Grif sighs. He knows that look.

The way her eyes fall to he lap. The furrow of her brow.

"What's wrong, kid?" Grif asks.

Lani startles, "What the hell makes you think something is wrong?!"

"Lani."

"I-" Lani stops and looks at him. He looks serious, like he cares. "Fuck. Fine. Just give me a second to get my words."

"No rush, kid."

Lani gives a slow breath. Her energy seems to recede. but she looks to her dad and she's not good at lying to him. She never has been.

She hates lying to him.

"I'm scared. I don't want to ruin the future... I'm scared I'm going to fucking loose someone... I'm just scared, dad."

"Oh... kid."

"And papa can't even look at me! I get that none of you have had us, or expected us. Okay? But it's bullshit that everyone else's adults aren't running away and mine can't fucking look at me!"

Grif realizes a few things in the span of seconds.

One, his daughter may have an attitude and confidence, but she's vulnerable to those she loves.

Two, Simmons has really hurt this poor kid by running away. Which is not okay.

Three, despite not having had a child yet he is already attached more than he expected.

And lastly number four, his daughter is scared. To fix this he's going to do everything he can.

Grif hopes his future self does everything he can for his kid. The girl seems wonderful.

"Lani... you know none of this is your fault, right kid?"

She laughs softly. Disbelieving. "Yes it fucking is. I'm the one who touched that stupid machine. They tried to pull me back and we all ended up here."

"Did you do it to end up here?"

"No."

"Not your fault. Sarge should have done a better job putting it away."

"I guess."

"Give me a few hours and we'll have a self care night."

"Promise?"

"Yeah kid, I promise."

Lani looks at him skeptically. And despite it all, there's trust there.

"Your friends really followed you?" Grif asks.

"Yeah... I'm really lucky with them." She admits softly.

Grif sends a message to his hookup for contraband to look for the self care night stuff.

When he turns his attention back to his daughter, he says, "Tell me about them.

So, Lani does.

She tells him how Ben is a guitar player and lead singer in the band and how the boy is loyal despite being a little dense.

She tells Grif about how smart Zach is and how he's practically the group mom froend.

Lani tells her dad about Cassie and how the girl plays bass, how protective she is of her friends... how Cassie is one of her two best friends that she'd do anything for.

Lani tells him about Aspen, who is camer than most of them, loyal and patient, intelligent ... how Aspen is her other best friend who is always there to listen.

She tells him about Violet, who plays drums in the band and softball, how creative the girl is.

And Grif just listens. He takes in all the information he can about the people his daughter obviously cares for deeply. He's grateful she's not alone, that she has friends who would follow her through time.

He's definitely interested in meeting the others, though, specifically Aspen and Cassie. The way her tone goes all soft when she talks about them compared to the others is- something.

-------

Tucker is not having a good day. Between trying to get things handled for his squad, his friends, and a hopeful rescue plan, he's very busy.

It's not until evening that he has any time to go check on the future kids. Mostly, he's going for his own kid, but he doubts that Caboose, Grif, or Simmons have really checked in and connected with the kids.

He knocks on their door, which has since had stickers put on it.

Huh. Where did they even get stickers?

After a moment, the door opens to Zach, whose long hair is in twin French braids.

"Oh, hey Tucker. What's going on?" The tall boy asks.

"Tell whoever that is to go away. We're busy!" Ben calls from behind Zach.

"I can come back."

"No, come in. It's a self care night."

"Okay?"

Tucker comes into the room and is taken aback. The sight before him is something else.

Sitting on the unclaimed bottom bunk is Lani and Ben, who have Clay face masks on. Between them is an impressive hoard of nailpolish and supplies.

Grif is in Lani's bed above the two teens, passed out with a clay mask and cucumber on his face. His hair is also braided.

Tucker wants to know how they got Grif involved but won't ask. Not right now, at least.

"Want a mask?" Zach asks as he shuts the door.

"Where did you guys even get this?"

"I asked dad real nice to help get it." Lani says. She dosen’t bring up the fact that she broke down a little. That's really not anyone's buissness.

"And he helped?" Tucker blinks, thoroughly disbelieving.

He'd asked Grif to help get extra jerky and was turned down because the other was tired.

"You wouldn't believe the favoritism." Ben chimes in.

"It's not my fault I know how the fuck to ask for things in a way that gets what I want." Lani says evenly, though she seems tired and like she might like a nap.

Zach dosen’t comment on that but the soft way they smile betrays that Lani might be exaggerating.

"Did you want a mask of not, pops?" Ben calls again.

"Sure. Why not." Tucker says, trying not to laugh.

Of course, Lani was able to convince her dad to do this. Why not?

Ben stands, "Come on."

He leads Tucker to the other bottom bunk, holding a clay mask jar.

Tucker pulls off his helmet and sits down.

Zach goes to sit with Lani, the two picking up a conversation about true crime podcasts. Both critique the murderes, which seems kind of weird.

Ben just sits down by his father. Opening the jar in his hands.

"You look tired." Ben says.

"I really fucking am, kid."

"Wanna hear about Junior in the future?"

"Fuck yeah!"

Ben pulls some clay mask onto his fingers and starts spreading it across Tucker's face.

"Well, Junior is pretty awesome. He writes home a lot, he graduated with honors."

"That my little man!"

Ben laughs. "He's not so little when I know him, pops. He's almost as tall as Caboose."

"Really?"

"I'll show you pictures later."

"Good. You better."

Ben just rolls his eyes playfully. He's smiling now. "Dad says you were always sentimental."

"Who's your dad?"

"Wash."

"What?!"

"You didn't know?"

"No. What the fuck?!"

Ben laughs, finishing the clay mask on his father's face. He looks genuinely amused.

"Keep it down, dad's sleeping." Lani calls over.

"That man can sleep through anything he'll live." Ben calls back.

"I had kids with Wash?!"

"Pops. What the fuck are you on? Who did you think my other dad was?"

"I don't know!"

"Oh my god." Ben groans, shutting the mask jar and wiping his hands on a stray piece of paper.

Tucker dosen’t know what to say. He had kids with Wash?

What the fuck?

"Did you break him?" Zach asks from the other bed.

"I don't know!"

Lani gives a low whistle, "Hot damn, Benny, what'd you even tell him?"

"That Wash is my dad."

Zach sighs, "Why?"

"I thought he knew!"

Lani just mutters something while Zach sighs slowly.

Ben misses not feeling stupid.

-------

Kai pushes herself off the floor with a low groan, vision blurry as she tries to figure out what is going on. Ugh.

She looks around and finds everything to be sanitized shades fit for a hospital. She hears beeping.

She's in a fucking hospital isn't she?

"Oh! Hi!" A feminine voice calls happily.

Kai pushes to her feet and looks to the woman. "Hi?"

"You aren't in armor."

"No."

"Are you from the same time as the kids?"

"Probably which kids?" Kai has her glare leveled, suspicious as fuck of this woman.

"Cassie Tucker, Aspen Church, and Violet Dufranse!"

"God damn it, why couldn't I be with my baby niece?!" Kai groans loudly.

All she wanted was to be with her niece. Well, that and to get to show off the thousands of pictures from the course of her baby niece's life!

Her favorites include one from a makeover Lani gave Grif when the girl was eight, homecoming where Simmons threatened the girl's date with Sarge as back up, and Grif asleep with Simmons and Lani on him when the girl was a baby.

"That's a greater question! I'm Doctor Emily Grey."

"Kai." The woman says, deciding she'll just show off the pictures later. Maybe she can subject Sarge to it?

"Let's get you checked out. Then we can get you reunited with those kids."

"A checkup?"

"Yes, of course!"

Kai dosen’t care and just starts stripping.

"Whoah- ypu don't have to strip this is not that kind of check up!"

"Oh. Really? Fucking weird." Kai shrugs, pulling her shirt back on.

Dr. Grey does the body scans and asks the usual questions about drug usage and sexual activity. It's not even in the top ten most fun checkups Kai has had. But that's okay.

Kai isn't surprised when Aspen comes in as the check-up is winding down. They are always on top of things.

It's really no wonder her niece likes Aspen so much.

"Hello, Kai." Aspen says as they come in.

"Hey bitch!" Kai grins.

Aspen just looks the older woman over. Their gaze dosen’t betray much of anything. They seem to he looking for an answer.

"You followed us," Aspen frowns, "Why?"

"My little Leilani was who knows where! I was obviously gonna follow your asses."

"Of course." Aspen says, sounding a little too fond for their own good.

Kai grins again, "Are you so pumped?!"

"I'm not sure yet." Aspen admits.

Unfortunately, this ends in a small trash fire, but that's not that bad. Thankfully, Aspen just hears Kai away. Wondering why they ended up with the woman.

They also mourn that Lani isn't here, their friend the only one who can fully handle Kai.

-------

Washington has done his best to avoid the future teens while still being a Good Commanding Officer. Which isn't that mature, but he has no idea what to do.

Teenagers are terrifying.

Unfortunately, his plan is ruined when someone bangs on his door at three in the morning.

Wash opens the door, thankful he dosen’t sleep much.

At the door stands all three teens, and an older woman who bears a resemblance to Grif.

"Why the hell did you bring me to a cop?!" The woman demands loudly.

Fuck. Wash can't help but wonder why the hell Kai is here.

"Holy shit." Wash manages.

"I need an adultier adult." Aspen says evenly.

"I'm not talking to a cop!"

"Kai. You know he isn't a cop." Cassie says.

"Future Wash isn't a cop, this one is!"

"Please help." Violet says.

Wash sighs slowly. He wonders what he did to God for God to hate him so much.

"I want a lawyer!"

"I'll be your lawyer. Just stop yelling." Cassie says firmly.

Kai looks to the shortest of the teens, considering the offer. But it seems to work because she grins, "You're hired."

"Great. Tell Wash the truth. You haven't committed any crimes, so there's nothing to hide." Cassie says quickly.

"You sure?"

"What would Lano tell you?"

"Wash ain't a fucking cop and if he was being difficult can get me arrested?"

"Yeah."

"I still want my lawyer present."

"I'm right here." Cassie says.

Wash wonders is Cassie has any knowledge on law. And does it matter? She's saving him a headache.

"Where are the other kids?" Kai asks after a moment.

"We don't know."

"You lost my fucking niece?!"

"She was never here."

"You're a really bad cop."

Wash wants to scream.

"It's fine. We're pretty sure she ended up woth her parents."

"Oh. Okay " Kai says. Almost immediately calmer.

"Okay?"

"Those two are dumb as hell and probably pining, but they'll keep my baby niece safe."

"Uh, great." Wash manages. He feels significantly less sure of things than he had ten minutes ago. And he wasn't sure of much then.

"I'm going to take Kai to our room." Violet giggles,"Aspen?"

"Sure thing."

Aspen and Violet lead Kai away. Ditching their friend with her father.

"Thanks for the help." Washington says after a moment.

Cassie just shrugs, "It needed to be done."

"How did you know that'd work?"

"Lani. She's uh- pretty fucking cool and she does that."

"Lani, huh?"

The way Cassie looks away even as she gives a lazy shrug is interesting.

Wash glances around, wondering what he's supposed to do here. He doesn't know this kid, like at all. But she seems to know him.

"Dad?" Cassie asks.

"Yes?"

"Do you know anything about the rebels?"

Wash blinks, trying to figure out what this kid is really aasking. Because he knows there's more.

"Not enough."

"Okay."

"Are you- adjusting okay, Cassie?"

Cassie laughs, and she sounds a lot like Tucker there. "What's to adjust too, shit is weird, and you guys are loud."

"You seem... okay? Like oddly well adjutsd."

"I'm just not dealing with distress, thanks. My method is to ignore distress and solve problems."

"That sounds- unhealthy."

"You're ignoring your mega crush on papa so you don't get to talk. "

"I- what?"

"Anyway, I have to go try to get ahold of the others now. Wish me luck!"

"What?"

Cassie just smiles too wide.

Wash sighs. "Cassie, come in here and talk."

"I'd rather not."

"Are you sure?"

"Look, dad, my brother, and two of my friends are God knows where. Hopefully they're with the rest of our adults. So I'm trying to hold it together."

"You don't have to. Your friends are here and... I mean, I don't know you, but I'm here too?"

Cassie just blinks at him, looking more than a little confused.

Wash dosen’t blame her, he dosen’t know who let him talk. He made it awkward. Of course he did.

Ignoring all his feelings about Tucker being the other father of his children, Washington wishes the man were here. The other is so good with kids.

A slow smile spreads across Cassie's face. "You're a huge fucking dork, dad."

"I know." Wash says, because it's easier than anything else.

She rolls her eyes, but she dosen’t snap at him or anything. Not that she's been too moddy latley but you never know with teenagers.

Wash wonders how he ended up with this kid. She seems like the best thing to happen to him right after apparently having a kid with Tucker.

"Hey... dad?" Cassie asks.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks.. for - treating us like people."

"You are people, though?"

Cassie just shrugs, "You know Sarge, and Donut is always trying to baby us."

"Oh."

-------

Simmons is not having a good day, and he is grateful Grif isn't in their room when he comes in after everything. All he's heard is his father's voice in his head running commentary on every minute detail and failure.

He knows he's avoiding his daughter, but he can't face her either. She's so much like Grif it hurts.

And he doubts he was a good father. He could never be a good father after what his own was like.

He can't face Lani knowing he hurt her.

But oh- how Simmons thanks any God who will listen that she has Grif's confidence and attitude. That she isn't a pushover that can be easily used.

He strips his armor off, settling to exist in only his kevlar undersuit.

Unfortunately his peace is ruined when the door opens.

Simmons groans, turning to see who's there.

In the door way is Zach who's carrying Grif, and Lani. He can hear Tucker and Ben bidding farewell.

Grif is asleep in Zach's arms.

"I could have carried him." Lani says.

"I know. You're exhausted, though." Zach says gently.

"Oh- hey papa." Lani says, eyes landing on Simmons.

"Hey." Simmons manages.

Zach moves forward, dropping Grif lightly into the older man's bed.

"I should head the fuck to bed, tell dad I say thanks again." Lani smiles.

"Uh. Sure?"

"Thanks, Simmons." Zach says, putting a hand on Lani's shoulder.

"Thanks papa."

"I'm not your dad. I'm -" Simmons starts but falls silent.

"Oh. Uh- yeah. I guess you're fucking not." Lani says, voice hardening even as her eyes look broken.

"I didn't- Lani I just- I'm not parent material. I'm not even your dad yet." Simmons says, trying to soften it, to make it better.

"Just say you don't want me, asshole."

"Leilani." Zach says, soft as he squeezes her shoulder.

Simmons is struck by how pretty bis daughter's name is. It must have been picked by Grif.

He frowns, "Lani I do-"

"Don't bother. You're not my dad, I fucking get it. I'm a big girl. I won't call you papa. Have a great fucking night, asshole." Lani seethes, but the way her eyes are glossy betray her. She's not mad. She's hurt.

Simmons watches his daughter storm out and is grateful that Zach follows her immediately.

He's really fucked up.

He hurt his daughter.

He does want her! He just- wants to be a good dad. And bases on what just happened, he isn't.

Grif is going to kill him. And he'll deserve it.

Simmons can't help the way his eyes burn with shame as he falls face first onto his bed. He wants to follow his daughter but he can't.

He knows he will make it worse.

-------

Tags: @the-team-sucks @dynamitelad

#ssb writes #red vs blue #red vs blue fic #rvb #dick simmons #dexter grif #rvb sister #franklin delano donut #rvb doc #rvb sarge #lavernius tucker #michael j caboose #red vs blue oc #Bottom of the river (long way down)

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wolverton · 1 year ago

Text

Blackness isn't black. It is the last degree of reds. The secret blood of reds.

(Hélène Cixous, from Stigmata: Escaping Texts; "Bathsheba, Interior Bible")

BLOOD, DRYING

by wolverton

M | Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter | WIP | 7/16 & 28.5k

SUMMARY

Molly tasted faintly of mint and mostly of the eggs she had already taken a forkful of right there in the kitchen. Will wondered whether she could taste Hannibal inside his own mouth the way he did. If she could, she did not say. She never did say anything, really. (Enjoy a front row seat to the shitshow of epic proportions that is Will Graham's short-lived marital life. Sit back and relax as he navigates the complexities of love lost, betrayal, and the passage of time. Observe his total inability to escape memories which haunt relentlessly, unforgiving flashbacks, and—to top it all off—an unceremonious and wildly ill-timed comeback of his whilom tendencies to see and hear things which aren't really there. Or are they?)

(NOTABLE) TAGS:

Missing Scene(s), Hallucinations, Mental Instability, Mental Anguish, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Cannibalistic Thoughts (see ao3 for more!)

Note #1: No set posting schedule, but updates fairly frequently (approx. once every ten days or so). There'll be a very short hiatus after chapter 7, as it'll round off the first half of the fic (considering the division into two acts). The posting of the second half will commence when I outline/plan it out in its entirety.

Note #2: The posting of the second half has commenced.

↓ CHAPTER SNIPPETS / TEASERS ↓

ACT ONE

CHAPTER 01: Scarlet

Leaned against a counter, Will cradled a warm mug in his hands, savoring the rich scent and the steam that gently caressed his face. Eyes open, eyes closed, slow blinks matching the deep, steady intakes of breath. His chest expanded, trapping a little bit more warmth each time; warmth emanating from the coffee, from the stove, from the pan sizzling atop it, from the single ray of sunlight seeping through the tiny window above the fridge pleasantly warming the upper part of his left cheek. He could almost ignore the deafening buzz of blood rushing past his ears. Could almost ignore the bitter bile in the back of his throat. (It mingled disgustingly with the aftertaste of some obnoxious brand of activated charcoal toothpaste with a dash of mint that Molly had bought in a vain attempt to undo the effects of coffee overconsumption and decades-long nicotine addiction.) Yes. A lot of things could be almost-ignored for a few rare moments; Will would take what he could get.

CHAPTER 02: Vermilion

The shirt was borderline blindingly white as he put it on, sliding each arm into its sleeve, shrugging it on, and buttoning it up. It made him look even paler, fucking fluorescent (just like those lights he’d feared facing), and it was… utterly unflattering. Yes, maybe most of his old ‘white’ shirts have gone a little eggshell, a little merino, but at least they didn’t make him look as ghostly as he generally tended to feel. Maybe most of what he’d consider his Nice Clothing was a little worn and frayed around the edges—but at least they didn’t make him look as though somebody put a bow on the rattiest mutt in the pound and tried to pass it off as a show dog. God, he sounded just like daddy. Will smiled wryly at the thought of what Will Graham Sr. might as about this. Some choice words, no doubt; he’d work himself into sweat at the thought of purchasing a replacement for something that didn’t even have a hole in it. (And even then, he knew how to mend; taught his boy, too.) But, daddy would never get out of the habit of going through life with a single suitcase-worth of personal possessions, even after so many years that he’s been decidedly less nomadic and with a roof over his head. In fact, Will expected that the suitcase in question would remain unpacked—or packed ahead of time, depending on how one decided to look at it—forevermore. Will did have a terrible habit of following in his old man’s footsteps—but, not today.

CHAPTER 03: Crimson

Hannibal considered this for a moment. “You must understand that I know only as much as you know. If I had to take a crack at it, as you might put it, I am an external manifestation of an inner conflict.” He looked pleased with that deduction. “You must look inward for answers, Will. Deep, should it be deemed necessary—I know not how hard you have worked to bury me.” Will felt, suddenly and perhaps unrightfully so, slighted. Perhaps less so slighted and more so deeply shaken and thus almost offended by the way Hannibal carelessly peeled away the layers of skin and deflection and suppression he’d worked so hard to pile on, to blot so much shit out in attempt to remain sane, to gain the ability to start anew, to survive (and how well was that going for him?) He had to remind himself that this Hannibal was in fact Not-Hannibal, incredibly fake actually and totally not real, still entirely in Will’s head despite appearances (appearances being that he’d escaped the confines of Will’s skull.) He paced, as he was really good at that, and he took deep breaths, at which he was only decent, and glared at the man-shaped nightmare with the hatred of a thousand suns, privately hoping all that derision packed into a single look would cause the other to combust, or perhaps melt away. This did not happen. Hannibal only appeared vaguely amused, judging by the slight quirk of his lips. Could he read Will’s mind? He couldn’t, could he? He was inside Will’s mind, which was a cause for worry, and Will only prayed that Mind-Hannibal had limitations.

CHAPTER 04: Amaranth

“Trouble sleeping, hm?” Katie hummed thoughtfully, “Mind keeping you awake?” Will hesitated. Instincts told him (screamed at him) to be mindful of the trap; it would have been a trap most certainly, once upon a time. It would have marked him unstable, again. It would have sown mistrust of his thoughts and actions in those around him, it would have had Jack disturbed and Alana pitying, would have had Price and Zeller leaving between them and him a slightly wider berth. It would have been a flashing neon sign above his head, shouting: THIS MAN HAS TOTALLY REGRESSED, GUYS. TREAD WITH CAUTION. Will’s lip curled in distaste at the fleeting imagery. Was he unstable, again? He felt stable, he thought, for the most part. Mostly stable, yeah, save for those few hours here and there. Stable like a horse. Ha. (God, maybe he was losing the plot.)

CHAPTER 05: Ruby

Hannibal had the gall to chuckle. “Are you calling me rude, Will?” Will tilted his head, a mirroring and a mockery, as though taking his turn to assess the other. “Do you think you’re not?” A beat. “What fate would you have me suffer for it?” “You invite retribution?” “I do so hope borrowing from your own vocabulary is acceptable,” Hannibal leaned back once more, at ease when he shouldn’t be (when Will didn’t want him to be), “Not retribution, no. Merely tit for tat.” Will’s lips stretched into a sneer, all derision. “Tit for tat? Well, then, your fate would seem crystal clear to me.”

CHAPTER 06: Carmine

A movement in the corner of the room caught his attention. Hannibal, perched on the windowsill, gazing outside. He looked thoughtful, as though his mind were adrift in contemplation. Somehow, Will doubted that. Will’s doubts were, indeed, confirmed. The moment he shifted on the couch, Hannibal’s head turned, eyes landing on him. It felt like a blow. “You ought to head home.” Will, getting up, was far too tired and far too hungover to enter another crisis about this very disturbing turn of events. “Fuck off,” he muttered, without heat. He wandered around like a headless fly for a hot second, attempting to locate his shoes. They were by the front door (shocker.) “Like you’re one to talk. Last time I checked, we’re not in Baltimore. You’re further from home than I am.” “Am I?” Will didn’t say anything to that.

CHAPTER 07: Maroon

“Florence seems so long ago.” Will inclined his head, “We were different men then.” “Is that what you think?” “It’s what I know,” he shrugged, casting a look out the window, locking eyes with the moon again. “I think I loved you then.”

CHAPTER 08: INTERLUDE

Her unfaithful husband walked through the door. Her unfaithful husband kicked off his shoes, took off his jacket. Her unfaithful husband came into the kitchen. Her unfaithful husband’s hands landed on her hips. Her unfaithful husband kissed her. Molly forgot her anger. Her husband took her to bed.

MORE TO BE ADDED!

#hannigram fanfiction #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal lecter #will graham #wip #blood drying #hannigram #murder husbands

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enbyboiwonder · 11 months ago

Note

any combo of these for the fic writers ask? ❤️👻🏷👓😎💛💌 (also, hope you're doing well!)

I think I’m doing probably so-so (though I was doing better before this disgrace of a website reloaded the tab when I was 95% finished answering this and I had to restart from scratch—I am salty). I dunno how long it’ll last, especially since it’s not simply a periodic downswing, but oh well. I think playing Neverwinter Nights (and fantasizing about if not always writing Hero/Tomi fic) might be helping though, or at any rate, it ain’t hurting.

Send me fanfic author questions!

❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?

The reason it took me so long to answer this—at least, before this sorry excuse of a website decided to delete everything I’d written because apparently autosaving to drafts is a thing for every type of post except ask responses—was that I had to go back and reread all (well, almost all; some of them I’d rather like to pretend don’t exist and either A. I’m still undecided on whether to orphan or not, or B. I can’t orphan them because they’re part of a series) the fics on my account. Is it weird that my fics don’t really stick in my head that long? Even when I don’t all but block them out. Anyway, it might be…

He feels safe—god, he feels like home.

from Don’t Tell Me Where the Road Ends (MacGyver 2016, macdalton). It’s not anything fancy or eloquent or anything, but idk, I still like it.

Or maybe…

He watches with poorly concealed amusement as Chika seems to work his way through all five stages of grief and back in the span of about two seconds.

from The Shape of Soup (2.43, yunichika)

(Yeah, I had difficulty choosing, so the rest—and the rest of the questions—will be going under the cut for length vvv)

Or even…

Somewhere along the way, his admiration has turned from jealousy to want—from wanting to be him to just wanting him.

the line that birthed not to remain as just a wish (2.43, odaoki)

Or possibly, since I feel like I should have one that is imagery-type/more poetic/(would it be conceited to call it eloquent?)…

His whole body is alight with the fizz of cider close beneath the surface of his skin, overflowed from the cavity of his chest to spill down his limbs and climb up his throat, pooling and sparking in all the places that Mao touched him like senkou hanabi, like miniature fireworks all their own, the brightest of all where Mao's fingers are still tangled with his, and it's wonderful and overwhelming at once.

from candy-apple red (Girls Blue, kisaragi/mao)

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

I don’t think I have any tbh? My headcanons all tend to be more the run-of-the-mill type and/or generally accepted fanon and/or stuff extrapolated from them being clearly ADHD and/or autistic. They’re small things, like Yuni liking spicy foods but being unable to handle sour stuff while Chika loves both, or Nao liking space but not particularly caring for sci-fi, even sci-fi that’s set in space. In fact, both of those I came up with while writing the fics they show up in lmao (Lemon Squash and 流星群, respectively. Though, technically, Chika liking lemons—with the sort-of implication that Yuni doesn’t—showed up in The Shape of Soup, but that was just lemons.)

🏷️ Is there a tag you like to search for when looking for fanfics to read?

I don’t think I’ve ever gone into a content tag outside of when I was trying to see how to do something while attempting to write smut. It’s never really worked out. Even when I think I’ve figured something out, it all flew out of my head as soon as I opened my own fic. At least I prefer writing non-smutty fics, or this would be a much bigger problem than it is lmao

No, usually what I’ll do is just go into a ship (or character) tag and filter out any tag I come across that I don’t want to read.

👓 What helps you focus when you write?

Music, though that’s also just a general thing. Typically I’ll just listen to whatever I’m already listening to (which for the past few years has mostly been the 2.43 OST), but if I’ve got a specific song or set of songs in mind for a fic, I’ll generally listen to that instead. Sometimes when I’m rewriting a canon scene or writing something that includes one, I’ll just leave the show playing in the background once I’m done with it. (That’s actually how one of my 2.43 rewatches happened lmao, though I guess it only half counts.)

Of course, sometimes my brain will focus on that instead…

Yeah, I haven’t figured out how to reliably hack my ADHD. Mostly I just hope I’ll slip into hyperfocus (and then hope I’ll manage to finish it while I am, but that only very, very rarely happens. Normally I’ll come out of my daze to find I’ve added like 1600 words and I’ve got no idea how to write the missing bits).

😎 What fics do you prefer on a scale of canon compliant to wildly original?

It depends on my mood tbh. Also how much I hate canon (though it can make for some delicious angst, depending on why I hate it). But most of my fics end up being canon compliant, or at least not canon uncompliant, so I guess when it comes to writing, it would be that? Though I do also accumulate my fair share of AUs (but then, most of those are Canon AUs of one sort or another…)

💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?

I’m not so sure I’ve learned anything, and certainly not anything impactful, except that I have zero idea how to describe emotions. That, and it’s obnoxious af when people use epithets for the POV character. I can’t believe I used to do that. It makes me what to crawl into a hole and die in shame. Like, what someone/something is referred to in the narrative is how your POV character thinks of them! Your MC can’t be “the other man”—he’s the man! Everyone else is “the other” in reference to him! (That’s probably also why I’ve gravitated more consistently toward referring to the POV character by their given name, though I’ll still use surnames sometimes—and not just when we never learned their given name.)

💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?

I tend to prefer writing Pre-Relationship/Feelings Realization/Getting Together/First Kiss stuff over Established Relationship stuff, but I’m not so sure any of those are tropes. Wait, what does count as a trope. Cuz I also love Fluff (particularly the sappy stuff—I’ve had several turn out way sappier than originally intended) and Angst and Hurt/Comfort about equally, but I feel like those are closer to genres than tropes…

Hmm, well, I do love Character x Their Significant Annoyance (A finds B annoying/frustrating/exasperating/baffling/etc. but is still inexplicably fond of them anyway), and I feel like a lot of the fics I’ve written are for pairings with that dynamic, so let’s just go with that, shall we?

I’m also a sucker for tropes in the Fake Dating to Real Dating/Didn’t Realize They Were Dating/Practice Kissing area, though I haven’t finished very many of those, and I also love Crossdressing (particularly sticking unfeminine men in women’s clothing and/or guys just casually wearing women’s clothes), but I haven’t finished any of those, either. Granted, some of those involve smut, which could explain it, but it’s not like all of them do. Half or less.

Plus there’s The Italicized Oh, and I love sticking those sorts of moments into my pre-relationship fics, even if there is no actual italicized “oh.” Just—the yearning. I’m an absolute sucker.

#answered #thx for the ask!#ebw.op

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 2 years ago

Text

Unavailable - Part 3! Sneak Peek!

We're going to make Harry a little simp again. It's my new addiction 😏

Read Part 1 & Part 2

The holidays were lonely and cold. She mostly slept on the actual days as she was not working and then got back to her schedule as soon as the festive days were done. Harry wouldn’t be coming back until the 8th so she would need to endure the solitude for a bit longer. This particular day seemed to be dragging on and as she briefly looked through TikTok on her break a great majority of the posts were about wellness or fitness and she took that as her sign to go to the gym after work.

She and Harry liked to take walks in the evenings but as soon as it started cooling down he would drag her to the gym with him instead - he even added her to his membership. And while he would go off and do his thing she would do her half-assed exercises before sitting in the sauna with him for a while. It was amusing to go to the gym with Harry; Y/N very quickly noticed that most of the girls at the gym would ogle him. He seemed to be everyone’s gym crush. She also started to notice that when these women would see him make his way towards her they would shoot her odd or jealous looks and she would always tell him and he’d make a full on show of grabbing her hand or hugging her close with a very mischievous smirk. It was a fun little game they played and she would definitely miss it at her session today.

Other than those playful interactions things had stayed extremely platonic between the two. There was obvious tension at times, but they never acted on it with each other at least. That had been her biggest concern with staying with him, but he was very respectful of her space which was so wonderful of him and she didn’t intend on getting tangled up with him while she healed from all the crap in her life. Sure, if they hooked up it seemed like an ideal situation for them if they wanted consistency, but that also meant that things could get complicated quickly and fall apart and she really didn’t want that to happen with him.

*************

Y/N was not feeling tired after her session at the gym today, if anything she felt more energized, maybe it was because she skipped out on the sauna, but she didn’t feel comfortable going in without Harry. It was always full of dudes who were less than discrete when they looked over her, but they were a lot less ballsy with Harry around. Either way, she was making her way past the reception desk when someone’s voice caught her attention.

“Hey, where’s your boyfriend?” She didn’t think it was directed towards her but then she heard more specificity, “I’m talking to you in the pink shirt!” The voice said and she stopped and turned around and was met with quite a handsome looking guy behind the desk who was offering her a smile.

“Are you talking to me?” She asked pointing to herself and he chuckled.

“Yes, I don’t see anyone else in a pink shirt.” He said with a friendly smile and she giggled.

“True.” She pointed out as she approached the desk.

“I was just wondering about your man because he usually comes in religiously and I haven’t seen either of you over the last few weeks.” He explained.

“Oh yeah, well just to clarify he’s not my man, which is why I didn’t respond to the boyfriend thing.” She informed with a flirty smile, “And he hasn’t come in because he went home to England for the holidays.” She explained and he hummed in understanding.

“And what’s your excuse?” He asked with a teasing grin and she narrowed her eyes playfully at him and then read over his name tag that said Aaron.

“Well Aaron, if you must know, I hate working out and my roommate bribes me with Chipotle for dinner if I join him.” Y/N explained and this made Aaron laugh and she giggled at his reaction.

“I see. So why did you come in today? Did you bribe yourself with Chipotle?” He teased with a smirk and she giggled.

“Actually, my TikTok feed was showing me fitness videos for like ten videos straight and I took it as a sign from the universe to not waste away my evening.” She confessed and he laughed again, she liked that he found her funny and he was cute and his laugh was also nice, it made her giggle along with him.

“You’re funny and I’m glad you decided to come in.” He said flirtatiously but in a very subtle way and she smiled and nodded.

“Thank you, me too.”

“Well maybe I’ll see you around if you come in again, this time is usually towards the end of my shift.” He informed her and she bit her lip to suppress her smile and nodded.

“Yeah, maybe.” She said as she started to step back to leave.

“What’s your name?” He asked her before she turned around fully to head out.

“Y/N.” She disclosed and he smiled.

“Very cute, it suits you.” He flirted and she grinned.

“Thank you, Aaron.” She responded and he grinned.

“I’ll see you around. Have a good night.”

“You too!” She smiled and then turned around and left.

She felt a bit giddy at this guy’s attention towards her even more so when she realized that he was probably the most age-appropriate man she had flirted with in a really long time, her one hit wonder with Harry didn’t count because it should never have happened; in fact she was kind of grateful for the way things went down with Harry because it felt like the proper goodbye to her old and fucked up ways, it was quite poetic really. And as hot and attractive as she continued to find him, getting involved with him now was just not a good call and now she was even able to flirt with other guys. She could just feel it in her bones that things were about to take turn for the better, this was going to be her year.

Regardless of her slight disdain towards exercising and gyms she found herself stepping into the gym at the 7:30pm hour when she came up to the front desk to sign in she was slightly disappointed that Aaron was not there and she just went on to the elliptical to warm up; the after work crowd was starting to leave, freeing up sufficient equipment for her to take her time and she did and was glancing around for the first 20 minutes of her time there before giving up on finding Aaron.

#harry styles fan fic #harry styles sneak peek

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cuntylouis · 4 months ago

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#god I'm trying so so hard not be a bitch about this but it's soooo annoying to see people who didn't care about the show until now#suddenly decide that they need to take up with it bc for some reason one single trailer of a white guy with longer hair and a#fruity jacket who's in make-up is more compelling than two of the best seasons TV has seen in the last decade#and like I get it a lot of people really looked forward to Lestat and we DID get two season with Louis as the main and it's not even THAT#it's the fact that they even DID that trailer when they never did ANYTHING like it for the other two seasons when the marketing#department was practically silent for s2... the fact that they announced the 3rd season when they did directly before the finale#the fact that the finale WAS so rushed and that for some reason Rolin keeps talking about being SO excited to finally get to do TVL#which on one hand I get bc that's his blorbo we KNOW that but also my dude come on this isn't your fanfiction you're doing a tv show here#... like... god I don't know one of those things I could just ignore but it's EVERYTHING coming together that makes me side-eye#the entire thing so hard rn#like I WANT to have fun I WANT to enjoy watching Lestat make an ass out of himself I want to enjoy watching him on screen#but they're making it SO HARD for us with the way they are laser-focusing on the white guy in the room to the exclusion of everyone else#(obviously like... none of this is Sam's fault that man sometimes says weird shit but I think that has more to do with him just not being#good at talking and also some thoughtlessness than any active negative feelings or intentions on his part like he's FINE just don't put#every word that comes out of his mouth on the gold scales bc I can guarantee you for a lot of the shit he says he probably just didn't thin#it all the way through so 🤷🏼‍♀️ this wasn't his call and it's not his fault.)

#ALSO also the entire 'Well we won't focus on the topic of memory and POV for next season anymore' that Rolin let loose on that one intervie#with AV Club has me genuinely wondering if this man understands what he's doing#like what do you mean we spend two seasons picking apart the memory and stories of a black man and a brown man only to expose one of them#to be an unreliable narrator who needs ANOTHER white guy to safe him and the other as a straight up abusive liar#but now that the white guy walks into the room and is the one to tell his story... now we're.. we're not... we won't do that anymore?????#hey Rolin??? hey ROLIN?!?!?! is this thing on- Rolin WHAT THE FUCK kind of SHIT idea is THAT?!?!#and this is NOT to say they shouldn't have written Louis and Armand being who they ARE that's NOT it they SHOULD but oh my GOD#they should NOT have set up the seasons like that if they DIDN'T want to extend this energy towards Lestat too? like why even START IT#LIKE THIS THEN??? what was the POINT???#good LORD even if they aren't interested in continuing the 'memory is a monster'-theme which is - in my humble opinion -#the DUMBEST decision they could possibly make with this but EVEN THEN you CANNOT TELL ME they don't understand that those optics#are BAD (via @universesvisiting)

Hope including these tags is fine i just thought they were good though i don't entirely agree about everything. I'm more optimistic about s3 and since Rolin and other writers have been mostly stellar so far i have a lot of hope and confidence that they're not going to forget how to write a television show and address serious complex topics just because Rolin's blorbo will be in the spotlight. And i think the strike likely affected the ending of s2 being kind of shoddy, and i also didn't feel like Daniel was portrayed as a 'savior'. But i'm deeply annoyed that the marketing and a significant part of viewers are acting like the REAL show is starting now. Like people in the notes of my posts with Lestat going 'oh i need to start watching this now' like where have you been for the past two years.

And the most annoying thing is when any fan of color expresses any frustration with the marketing or with how many white fans are acting they get rude and condescending reactions from certain fans. I have a lot of trust in Rolin as a showrunner and writer but him having said several times now that they're moving away from unreliable narration and 'memory is a monster' when it's mr Lyingcourt's season makes me raise my eyebrows a little. I hope that Rolin is referring more to the show's narrative structure changing and there being less flashbacks etc. because if he meant to suggest that Lestat is going to be a more reliable narrator than Louis and Claudia that would be incredibly stupid

AMC discarded season 2 like a piece of trash and suddenly has knows how to market this show but iwtv fans will still try to gaslight me & others about their particular motives. 🆗️!!!! No wonder this fandom behaves like the real show is finally starting when the network does too but then I get told im overreacting or bitter ��

I was actually just going to make a post about this. I wouldn't go as far as saying amc is discarding s2 like a piece of trash but especially now after they released that lyric video i'm starting to feel there's a very noticeable difference in the marketing between two previous seasons and how the marketing for s3 has started (before they've even finished writing!) Some people cynically predicted in the past that a shift like this would happen when the narrative focus shifts on a white character and it sadly kind of seems they may have been right. It COULD be coincidental like if they're finally listening to people's complaints about bad and lacklustre marketing and how it's limiting their show's potential, or because iwtv is much bigger now than it was even compared to earlier this year and they've probably gotten a bigger marketing budget when amc's confidence in the show's potential has grown. But it's very suspicious that this increase of confidence and realization that their show could be a megahit they should invest in accordingly is happening right at the same time the story shifts to focus on Lestat. I don't subscribe to the idea that amc ever tried to intentionally make the show fail because it would make zero sense financially, but i get an impression they perhaps didn't trust that the first two seasons would have broad mainstream appeal, but now they trust s3 to have that.

I'm still excited for s3 but it's incredibly frustrating to see this difference compared to how s1-2 were treated, when the show's success is very much based on those seasons and their black lead. Like this show has grown its popularity slowly and organically despite weak marketing simply because of how good it and its cast is. And now when it seems to be about to hit the zeitgeist, the network decides that it's time to give full effort when the show is going to focus more on a white man. Anyone who's saying you're overreacting or bitter when pointing that out has not paid attention to how the entertainment industry works because this isn't new or unusual, and there isn't a reason to assume amc is any different than almost all the other networks and studios

#tell me if you don't want your tags quoted and i'll delete this!#anyway i think i got all my negativity out now lol #i'm actually really positive when it comes to this show and its future but i'm a little nervous posting this because i feel like #every time i say anything less than overwhelmingly positive no matter how many disclaimers i put someone takes issue with it

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no-droids · 4 years ago

Text

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, following/stalking, some fluffy moments but mostly just a lil action and interaction, I don’t think there’s any other warning besides language and the smut (comm sex WITH A TWIST YALLLLL) but if you happen to find something else that warrants a tag, please let me know and I will do so accordingly!

A/N: The response to this story has grown beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined and I genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of writing for you. Hope this one ends up being okay and I’ll get to work on the next chapter soon!

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

The sky is so pretty. There isn’t much to look at on the surface—rolling hills and plains, grassy but with dry bare spots breaking up the green stretches, but the sky. It’s an oil painting above you, pastel swishes of yellows and pinks and purples with an enormous ringed planet taking up half the horizon and another sizable moon hanging high.

You should probably be running. Like, for real sprinting, but you can’t push yourself to go faster than a brisk walk. It’s so… free out here, more hills springing up every time you get to the top of the next, warm air filling your lungs. Even though you know realistically that the beginning will likely be the hardest—where you need to focus most on running and putting distance between you instead of hiding—truth be told, you’re not foreseeing making it more than a full day. You’re going to try, obviously, but in the grand scheme, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he finds you tomorrow. So, instead of wasting all your energy going as fast as you physically can right out of the gate, you just decide to stroll and think for a little bit.

You know what your goal is. Obviously, to last as long as you can, but more specifically… well, if Din is going to chase after you, then he’s going to try to think like you. Anticipate your movements, if he can’t already see the tracks you leave plain as day. Very soon, he’ll be walking this same exact pathing, following the footprints you’re leaving behind, but if you’re ever able to shake him or throw him off course, he doesn’t have a tracking fob. He doesn’t have any mechanical device that points him in your direction—if you can lose him with the footprints, then he’ll have to rely solely on predicting you. Which means you need to think… exactly the opposite of yourself if you want to outsmart him.

That’s harder than it sounds though, because… is he going to predict you predicting him? At what point does it stop? You somehow have trouble seeing this as an advantage the way he said it would be—you almost wish you had someone else chasing you, someone you didn’t know and someone who didn’t know you if only so this paradox could end before it begins.

You’re walking for about ten minutes before spotting a dirt road in the distance. There’s a person following it in the direction of the sun—you don’t know this planet’s magnetic field but you do know it’s after noon and the sun would set on Arvala-7 in the west, so that’s what you’ll call it for now. You call out to them as soon as you’re in range, and the stranger turns to you.

“Excuse me!” It’s a woman, you see it as you get closer. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but can you tell me where this road leads?”

She removes a sheer yellow shawl covering her dark hair and gives you a friendly smile. “Hello,” the lady greets, before spinning around and pointing back the way she came. “Osiruu is a few hours that way. There’s not much there, but it will take you to G’ila, a transport hub with many opportunities for drifters, or Nariss, the capital. I’m on my way to Shabeth,” she points in the other direction. “It’s far—a day’s walk, but it’s a holy place and offers quite the view. I would be glad for the company, but I understand its lack of practical appeal.”

So this place is safe enough to be inviting strangers along on your travels, noted. You’re going to have to make the decision right now, then. Which path should you take?

Something deep inside you tells you that you want to see this holy place, and just from a few sentences, you already like this woman and feel safe with her. But then all of a sudden, you remember something.

Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry, Din’s voice drifts back to you, sounding soft and distant from the dark forests of Naboo. Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people. Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring. But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists. The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.

You suppose you should decide what kind of quarry you want to be. Friendly company and a view is something you normally crave—it’s something your soul speaks to after going without it for so long during your previous life. You never pictured yourself as the fighting type. When Din first asked you, you told him you wouldn’t run from him if he was chasing you, and choosing to accompany this kind stranger to her destination is essentially just that. Sacrificing a chase for a pretty view.

“Does Shabeth have a sizable population?” You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“It’s the sight of an annual pilgrimage that happens in a few months, but it’s beautiful there and I like to go whenever I can,” she tells you with a soft smile. “But there’s nothing for miles outside it, I’m afraid.”

Your footprints will lead directly there. He’ll find you easily.

“It sounds very nice, but I need to find somewhere with a lot of people,” you give her an apologetic smile. Truly, you think she would’ve made for a nice friend. “Thank you for your help, though, and good luck with your journey! I hope we meet again.”

“Do you need any food or supplies?” She asks you, and you stop short of passing her by. “I don’t have much with me, but know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Sanctuary II. I’d be glad to help.”

Good Maker, is this how everybody is here or did you just hit the jackpot with this lady? She seems like… you, almost. Her voice is gentle, she looks like she’d give nice hugs. You’re about to politely turn her down, but then you realize the brilliant opportunity that’s presented itself in her image.

“Actually, this might sound like a really strange question, but…” you tell her, before looking down at her feet. “Wanna trade shoes with me?”

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

You don’t think it’ll work, but as you walk into a small settlement a few hours later in a unfamiliar and worn pair of sandals, you decide that you’ll need to do this as often as possible. You can’t come up with anything else that’ll throw him off your physical trail besides constantly switching shoes—is that bad? Are you just an idiot with no hope? You’ve had—you check your watch—like, five hours to think of a game plan, and all you’ve come up with is shoes? You’re screwed.

At least there’s food here. Plenty. There’s vendors stationed along the street, multiple people passing by and going about their business. Osiruu, that nice woman said—not much here, but you think she was wrong. There’s children giggling and jumping rope on the corner, a shopkeeper sweeping her storefront, a graying man with an empty cup plucking an unfamiliar melody on an unfamiliar instrument—and while your tummy growls and you know you should quickly buy supplies and be on your way, you still stop for just a few minutes to listen.

It’s a lovely tune. You drop a few credits in his cup after he finishes and find yourself humming it as you look at the plethora of goods being offered by the vendors. Water, food—you buy enough of everything to sustain you for at least a couple days, not wanting to go hungry but also feeling realistic over optimistic. The cuisine is foreign and you just point to things that look appetizing since you’re not sure about the name or pronunciation, but after paying and taking a bite into a rather large piece of purple fruit, your eyes nearly cross at how sweet and tasty it is. Holy Maker, that might just be the best thing you’ve ever tasted. You ask for two more after you finish the first, tucking one in your backpack next to your blaster and munching on the other as you keep browsing.

Suddenly you see shoes—yes. Fucking shoes, your salvation. You take a good look at all your options, of which, there aren’t many. Generic men's, women's, and children's, all in the same color and design. It’s good in a way—you see most people walking around in the same type of clothing here and you pray there’s not a way for him to track your gait or the whole thing is a bust, but truthfully, what you’re most worried about is the fact that you’ll create a brand new set of footprints wherever your old ones disappear. Unless you trade with someone else, you won’t ever have a back pathing, you know that Din will probably be able to easily spot it.

“Three pairs of these, please,” you point to the correct shoes and tell him your size, but then—“Oh wait, actually, can I actually have one of them that’s the next size up? And another that’s the same but in men's?”

The man behind the counter gives you an odd look but acquiesces, measuring the size of your preferred pair to multiple men’s shoes to find one that looks roughly the same—you doubt he’s ever had a request like this, but you’re also a generous tipper. His smile is grateful when you tell him to keep the change and then you’re stuffing the new shoes into your backpack and moving onward.

Would there be some kind of map here, you wonder? One that shows distance so you won’t waste time trying to reach a place you won’t be able to walk to? That lady said a transport hub and the capital are through this settlement, but she didn’t provide much information beyond that. You don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he finally catches up to you, you’ll need some place to hide.

When you stop to ask an elderly gentleman as he passes by, he freely provides you a basic gist. There’s a large forest beyond Osiruu—after it will be a road that passes through a few notable places, with a town called Sijua to the west that leads north to G’ila, and Devain to the east that leads northeast to Nariss. Both are within walking distance, though it may take a couple days to reach your destination.

Alright then. Through the forest, you suppose. You probably should’ve asked which way is east, but he’s already leaving and you don’t have the nerve to ask him to stop again. You have a finger point, that’s all you need. Making sure to use one of the small restrooms near the square before heading out, you eventually decide to make your way towards the direction he said this forest would be.

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

You’re not going to take it, of course, but it’s the perfect solution to the problem you’ve been mulling over. It’s at the very edge of the small settlement, and you quickly speed up into a half-jog as soon as you hear its engine running.

“Last call for the seven o’clock!” A large man stationed near the doors yells as you approach. “Last bus to G’ila until tomorrow!”

The sun is setting and you have to extend your hand out in front of you to not be blinded by it. “Hello,” you give him a smile, before grabbing one of the handles on the side and stepping up onto the metal platform.

“Ah!” The man quickly stops you, moving to stand in front of the open doors. He’s as wide as he is tall, big enough that he blocks the entire exit. “That’ll be ten credits, miss.”

“Oh,” you say, patting your empty pockets and pulling your eyebrows inwards, trying not to move too much in case the sizable amount of credits you have stashed in your backpack happen to rattle. “Oh, no. I think I lost my wallet.”

He sighs. “Off the bus then please, miss. Come back tomorrow if you find it.”

You nod, leaning your forearm against the paneling and beginning to take your shoes off. “Will it be parked in the same place exactly?”

The driver looks curiously at you, clearly confused at both the strange question and your strange actions. “I’m sorry? Please—off the bus.”

“One second,” you tell him, now barefoot on the platform and digging into your backpack for the slightly larger sized shoes you bought earlier. The sound of credits clink against your blaster, but you hope he takes your lead in purposefully ignoring them. “Does the bus to G’ila park in this spot every single day?”

“Yes,” the man tells you impatiently, eyeing the way you’re stepping into the new pair with a subtle look of distaste. Everyone is polite here, it seems. “It will arrive back at seven am sharp with passengers from G’ila, in the same exact place. Please get off the bus.”

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him with a smile, watching him step to the side to allow you to drop down into the dirt again and continue on your way.

Brilliant, if you do say so your fucking self. Eliminate the need for a back pathing. All footprints facing this direction are going to be the first footprints, and all of them facing the opposite way are going to be the last; if Din manages to figure out you didn’t take the bus, then he won’t be able to tell which new set are yours and which belong to the other passengers. You pray the helmet can’t track gaits, but while you’re still paying enough attention, you make sure to keep your steps just slightly longer and even try placing more weight on the edges of your feet to make it look like you have a slightly higher arch than you actually do. You’d put a pebble inside of them or something, but you know you’re going to be walking through the night and you don’t want to commit to having your feet hurt more than you already know they’re going to.

Eventually the quaint shops and small houses disappear behind you, and the sun setting over the horizon turns the clouds above turn more dusty green and brown than yellow and pink. You hope Din opened up the ramp after you left. You want him to see the sky.

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

Maybe it was because you only saw it while you were in crisis-mode, but that forest seemed much scarier and darker than this one. The vegetation there was thick and overgrowing, but these trees look like they’ve never had leaves on them at all. No twigs or small branches that sprout from the trunks—the branches are all thick and gnarly, criss-crossing with each other with how close they’ve grown together. You bet their roots are practically one at this point, stretching for miles and miles but all sharing the same system.

Because there aren’t any leaves, there's nothing to block the moonlight shining clear and crystalline through the twisting maze of branches. Sanctuary II appears to have a sister moon—Sanctuary I, perhaps?—that’s likely a similar size, because it’s the same one you've seen all day and it’s barely moved a few degrees that you can tell. It must orbit incredibly close and be tidal-locked with this one then. Two massive satellites swinging around each other as they circle a ringed gas giant, but it makes a stunning view and reflects more than enough light to see.

The sky is deep blue and maroon and you’ve been walking in a straight line for hours, using the stationary moon overhead as your guide. The only issue with this plan that you’ve been able to come up with is that there’s no widely traveled path through the trees—even you can see your footprints and the clear trail you’re leaving behind. You’ve been trying for a while to figure out another clever evasion tactic, but it’s harder than it sounds. Can’t just change shoes again, that’ll be a dead giveaway. How do you lose him?

You stop for a second, reaching into your bag to grab some water and stay hydrated. Looking up once more at the beauty of the swirling colors peeking through the branches above you, you find yourself pausing after returning the bottle to your pack. There are… an atrocious number of branches up there, and all of them are long and tangled and thick. Sturdy.

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

Without thinking much beyond that, you decide to bend your knees and jump, grabbing hold of one of the strong wooden tubes over your head and then swinging your legs up. Ouch—the bark scrapes against your palms and you have to hold on tight with your thighs while you shimmy yourself upwards, but at least the wood is solid as fuck. It takes you a minute or two, but you’re eventually able to shuffle yourself around so you’re straddling the thick branch, and then you look out to see the large collection of them criss-crossing in every direction around you.

Oof, this is dangerous. You know it even before you start. The gaps leading to the ground are bigger and more numerous than your potential pathing forward, but the only thing that gives you reassurance is how thick the wood is—you’re almost certain the branches aren’t going to break as long as you’re careful.

Okay. Shoes, these are too big for the kind of dexterity you’re going to need. You take them off slowly, being extra careful not to drop them, and then exchange them with the better-fitting pair you bought earlier, making a mental note that the sandals and the larger shoes are the two you’ve already worn. If your pursuer manages to catch on to the multiple footprint changes, your most recent ones should ideally just… disappear right there, shouldn’t they?

You grin, before struggling into a low crouch and looking around your wooden cage for a safe way forwards.

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

A blessing, and not because you’re thirsty. You have clean water in your bag and decades of habits formed in the desert to ensure you’re taking breaks and drinking enough—what you need is a way to disguise your footprints once you get back on the ground again. This was good; scuttling your way along thick and twisting branches for as long as you have was time-consuming and exhausting, but it allowed you to avoid touching the ground for at least a mile or so, which means he’ll have to comb that entire radius to look for your drop.

And it was fun.

You even found yourself giggling as you ducked and scooted, ignoring the bark scraping your skin and your panting breaths, the way your face got sweaty and hot. You had to do some brave maneuvers at tricky spots—jumping, balancing, hugging—but it almost just felt like an exciting little obstacle course for you and you’re honestly having a fucking blast right now.

Water, though. Water is an unexpected beauty, even more than you’ve always considered it to be. Water is an eroder. Not only powerful enough to smooth down the rough edges of strong elements over time, but it will hide your footprints as soon as you create them and leave no indication that you were ever there.

Eventually you see it—a babbling stream cutting a considerably wide line through the trees. You creep forward and hang tight to a branch above you to make sure you won’t fall, wiping the sweat on your brow with your other hand as you study the terrain. The water is… a considerable distance below you, maybe about ten or so feet, and there’s quite a few branches on either side that extend and hang out over it. You could probably find your way to the other side somehow, but something tells you to avoid the road beyond the forest if you can. It leads to multiple places, it would be better to follow the stream until you can eventually merge with it later.

That means you’re… fuck. You’re going to have to jump, aren’t you?

It’s the only way—you can’t leave footprints which means you’re going to need to land in the water. The trees clear too far from the shoreline, so you can’t shimmy down the trunk of one for a shorter fall. You’re going to have to climb out on one of those long branches until you’re suspended over the stream, and then you’re going to have to lower yourself as far as you can and then let go. With your height already accounting for at least half the distance plus the length of your arms as you hang, you should only have to drop two or three feet before reaching water, and then maybe another two feet to the floor under it. It looks forgiving enough—the moonlight shines and the stream is clear and you can mainly just see sand at the bottom, no sharp rocks or other potential dangers to be found. This… this is doable.

Okay. If you pull this off, you’re a badass. If you don’t break any bones or seriously injure yourself in any way, you deserve some kind of commendation. This is probably kiddie shit to Din, who keeps literal rockets strapped to his back and jumps out of ships flying thousands of feet above the ground, but this is a challenge for you and you’re feeling just excited enough to be up to it.

You’re eventually able to climb onto the thickest, sturdiest branch you can see that happens to hang over the water, straddling it and beginning to scoot. Your thighs are killing you at this point but you’re holding deathly tight to the wood, your movements becoming more and more cautious the further away from the trunk you get.

You’re directly above the water now, but you need to go out a little further. Aim for right in the middle so you don’t accidentally leave any tracks or prints on the shoreline if you need to catch yourself. The unfamiliar wood in this forest is admittedly sturdy, but the branch begins to subtly sag with your weight as you keep slowly scooting forward, and you’re just about to the correct spot when—

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

“Maker,” you gasp, suddenly scrambling to catch yourself on the branch before you can plummet. It creaks and groans under your weight but supports you nonetheless, and when you’re one hundred percent certain it isn’t going to break, you jerk your head down to the communicator and see that it’s midnight, on the dot.

Shit.

Your heart slams against your ribs and your arms shake with adrenaline while you study it for just a moment longer, trying to calm the fuck down.

“Hey,” Din’s voice comes sharply from your wrist, crackling and tinny through the comm, nearly scaring you again. “Answer me.”

You don’t want to sacrifice your grip right now, but you have no doubt he’ll fly the Crest out to you if you don’t respond. So you quickly let go to press a button on the front face and then latch onto the branch tight once more, raising your voice because you can’t risk bringing your wrist up to your mouth to speak. You hope he’ll be able to hear without the microphone picking up the sound of the stream below. “Uh. Ahem. Hello. Yes?”

“You’re too quiet,” Din’s disembodied voice immediately informs you. “Or something on your side is too loud. There’s an earpiece built into the side of the communicator, take it out and use it instead.”

You study the wrist brace without moving, until you finally see what he’s talking about. It’s a small, wireless piece of machinery hidden on the left side of the electronic display, and you quickly pop it out and stuff it into your ear just in time to hear the sound of hydraulics clanging through the speaker as you clutch the branch again. You’d know that sound anywhere, it’s the ramp of the hull closing.

“Are you already on the move?” You ask him incredulously, your thighs starting to go numb with how deathly tight you’ve been squeezing this tree.

“Can’t sleep,” Din murmurs, sounding so much closer and deeper than before. Does he have his earpiece on under the helmet or something? Stars, is that why his voice sounds that good? It’s like it’s coming from inside your own head, bassy and rough. “Ready or not.”

You huff, your tummy going warm. Of course he can’t sleep, of course he’s going to look for you as soon as he’s allowed to. If he waited until morning, you’d probably be slightly offended. You try to slow your heart rate into something acceptable, but being this far above water and hearing his baritone murmur directly in your ear make it difficult. “But I’m… sleepy.”

“You’re always sleepy,” he tells you, and though you can’t actually hear him walking, the sound of his footsteps shake through his voice just slightly as he speaks.

“Hang on,” you huff, ducking your head to drag it against your shoulder, keeping the sweat from your eyes without using your hands, “you’re gonna make me stay up all night just because you do? This isn’t fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well. Fair.

Stars, you can’t stay here. You don’t know how long he wants to check-in for, but you’re also not confident with this branch’s ability to hold you for an extended time when you’re this far out from the trunk. You need to get in that stream one way or another, but now that he’s here, you have an extra problem. Din is going to hear you no matter what.

“Um. Can you give me a second?” You ask him, glancing around to make sure there’s no better way of doing this. Nope, you realize very quickly—this is the best idea you’ve got, and you don’t really know what that says about the quality of all your other ideas.

“What?” Din grunts shortly, but you just clear your throat.

“I need to… mute myself. Give me like… five minutes.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“You of all people cannot be upset about asking for five minutes of quiet,” you return testily, looking down at the distance to the stream once more. That’s a long way. You… you can’t swim obviously, but again, the water doesn’t look too deep. Just a couple feet likely, shouldn’t go past your knees.

It’s fitting that he doesn’t say anything, which you eventually take as disgruntled acceptance, so you quickly press the proper button on your wrist to silence the mic and then take a few deep breaths. You have a time limit now, you have to do this.

With incredible patience and precision, you eventually slide until you’re clutching the branch upside down like an only slightly quicker and less coordinated sloth, before slowly dropping your legs and hanging over the water.

It’s… admittedly a bit further down than you anticipated, or maybe that’s just you making things worse than they actually are, but you’re committed at this point and there’s no going back.

You close your eyes, count to three, and then you let go.

The sandy floor meets your feet with considerable force and you make a hell of a splash doing it, nearly falling but just barely managing to keep yourself balanced and upright at the last second. The water is cool and comes up just over your knees, your backpack miraculously didn’t get wet and all your limbs remain shaky but unbroken.

Okay. Okay, fucking success. It feels… thrilling, accomplishing a dangerous feat, and you quickly let out a loud whoop before clearing your throat, trying to sound normal as you press a button on the communicator’s face once more.

“Mando?” You ask, slightly out of breath. “Sorry about that, I’m back.”

Okay, now which way do you go? Downstream seems like the easier path after getting in so much unexpected exercise, so that’s the one you go with. As soon as you lift your foot from the sand bed, you watch your footprint almost immediately disappear through the moonlit water, and you bite your lip at just how well everything turned out for you.

After a moment though, you realize he hasn’t answered you. You look down at the communicator again to make sure you pressed the right thing. “Hello? Shiny?”

“Did you trade shoes with someone?” Din’s voice suddenly comes through the earpiece, sounding absolutely incredulous.

“Shit,” you tell him, trying not to smile. “Hoped that was gonna buy me more time.”

“It… might’ve, if you kept walking in the same direction as they were,” he informs you after a moment. “Your shoes went south, but this other pair got all the way out here just to turn back around again? Good idea, but the execution needs work.”

Maker, he’s smart. It was the first attempt at a footprint change so you weren’t thinking much beyond tricking the tracking mechanism in his helmet, you ignored his logic completely. Essentially, the exact opposite of what he told you to do. You like to think you’re getting better at it by this point, thinking beyond just the original exchange, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to trick him with at least one of the other fifty times you changed shoes today. You’ll have to see tomorrow night, if you can make it that long.

Also, the road you were on apparently goes north-south, that’s important information you make sure to take note of. The man in Osiruu said Devain and Nariss are to the east, and that Sijua and G’ila are westward, right? Remembering that you thought south was west earlier, you do some quick calculating and immediately come to a stop in the moving water as soon as you figure out your positioning, turning around and walking upstream instead.

You want to go to Nariss. The capital, and the biggest city in walking distance. Smart quarry go to populated places, places that make it nearly impossible to find people.

“Alright. Mando: one, Me: zero,” you finally acknowledge, swinging your backpack around and unzipping it to dig inside for another piece of fruit. You’ve been hungry for hours but had to use both hands to stay safe and far above the ground, it’s the perfect time to eat. “How’s the baby? Behaving himself?”

“He kept trying to follow you after you left,” comes Din’s response, and you stop with just your teeth piercing the flesh, wondering if you heard him right. You actually open your jaw and pull the fruit away with just a bite mark in it.

“You’re joking.” No fucking way, not that little demon.

“Wish I was,” he tells you solemnly. “Made a fuss, tried to open the ramp a few times. Didn’t cause any trouble after, just… pouted.”

That’s… that’s exactly how he responded the very first time Din left the kid on the ship with you instead of bringing him along. He threw a fit, tried to ditch you for his dad multiple times, and then ultimately just looked cute and mopey with his limp ears until Din came back. Do you think it’s just him rebelling against change? That has to be it, right?

“He better not be giving you any hints about where I am,” you warn his father. “I’d tell you to put him on but I don’t want the earpiece getting lost forever.”

You hear it. The softest laugh—barely a breath, coming after years of learning to make it just quiet enough not to be registered by the helmet. It gets picked up by the communicator in all its understated beauty when normally it’d be silent, and it’s just jarring enough to make you careless.

On your next step, you accidentally lift your foot too high and make a splash, and you already know you fucked up before he can say a single word.

“What’s that sound?”

You immediately stop moving, allowing the cool water to move as silently as possible past your stationary knees. Shit. “Uh. What sound?”

You think he purposefully doesn’t say anything. Probably because it feels a little like cheating, doesn’t it? It’s to your disadvantage, having him be able to catch hints from your environment when he’s the one who made check-ins mandatory, but then again… how smart do you think he is? Something tells you that he might not need to track you at all—what are the chances he stumbles upon this little stream and just naturally assumes you were clever enough to use it to hide your trail? Did you waste time trying to engineer a vanishing act when it’s not going to matter regardless?

Oh well, too late now. You quickly decide to change the subject.

“You should try the big purple fruit that one vendor sells when you get into Osiruu, by the way,” you tell him pleasantly, taking a big chomp out of it and then letting out an extended hum of delight that only really fucking good food or sex causes a person to make. “I’m eating one right now, it’s so good. Be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Mm. Doubt it,” immediately comes his low response. Fucking immediately.

“Mando,” you gasp, scandalized and giddy enough that juice dribbles down your chin a bit.

“Are you having fun?” Din asks, instead of pushing the conversation any further in that direction. You don’t know if you’re thankful or disappointed with how quickly he decided to abort, but you take a moment to consider his question while swallowing and wiping your mouth. Not the answer, you know the answer—but why he bothered to ask. Did he know you were going to enjoy yourself as much as you have? Your only possible lament is how you’re talking to him through a communicator instead of having him next to you.

“I am,” you say warmly. “Be… be better if you were here, though.”

“Give me your coordinates,” Din proposes, and his voice is just low and rumbly enough to make you pause.

You’re really, really proud of yourself for only considering it for a few seconds before scoffing. “Psh. Nice try.”

“Was worth a shot,” he sighs through the earpiece, and you smile, taking another bite of fruit.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you offer, grinning at the implication.

“We’ll see,” you hear him return, and though his tone doesn’t really change, you know he’s probably rolling his eyes. He won’t have to ask for your coordinates because he’ll already be there, but it’s nice to pretend for a while longer.

And then you both walk all through the night, sharing casual banter with each other for hours. He never once implies he wants to disconnect, even when you hit him with more nonsensical questions—

“What’s your favorite food?” (“I don’t have one.”)

“Okay, well what about just a food that you like?” (“I don’t like food that much.”)

“What do you mean? Everyone loves food.” (“Not me.”)

“Alright, well um. What’s your favorite color, then?” (“I don’t have one, either.”)

“Come on, you must have some kind of color you like.” (“What’s your favorite color?”)

“…Brown.” (“Then that’s my favorite, too.”)

—until the sun rises and you both say your goodbyes.

***

Day 1–6:15am:

You resolve to waiting until you see another person to allow your feet to touch dry land, figuring the longer you stay untraceable, the better off you’ll be. Your toes are wrinkly and your pantlegs and shoes have been drenched for hours, but then you finally spot a few fishermen standing upstream with their backs to you, speaking to each other in the dawning light. Two look to be full-grown, but there’s a smaller one in the middle, maybe a teenage boy, and you pause for a second, looking at the riverbank next to them. All their valuables—water, food, bait, extra rods, but also… their shoes.

Quietly, you reach into your backpack and remove the pair of men’s shoes you bought earlier. The ones closest to you on the shore seem to be the smallest, so you sneak over as silent as possible and rapidly make an exchange, fitting the new ones on your wet feet before allowing yourself to touch dry land and then speed walking away.

The ones you left him are newer and roughly the same size anyways—yikes, maybe slightly smaller now that you’re thinking about it—but at least you have a back pathing. If that kid decides to take your offering and the shoes fit, Din will follow him, and if he decides to go barefoot instead, he should still follow him, right? You’re not really aiming to trick him outright, mostly you just want him to waste more and more time. This likely wouldn’t work if there wasn’t a time limit attached to this hunt, but you’re going to do everything you can to disappear while he’s still far enough behind you.

***

Day 1–7:06am:

You get to Devain remarkably quickly after finding the correct road. The pit stop is much bigger than Osiruu, big enough to call an actual town instead of just a settlement, but still not large enough to feel concealed. You want a city. This place at least has cars and ships moving about and overhead respectively, but you’re looking for somewhere with lines. Somewhere that feels as cramped and busy as possible.

Still, you find a restroom to use and then decide to grab some more food for your trip, happily spotting your new favorite purple fruit in one of the shop windows. As you’re reaching out to hand the storekeeper the appropriate amount of credits, Din’s gruff voice comes through the earpiece so suddenly that you jump, nearly dropping them all on the counter. “Hey.”

“Holy shit, what?” You gasp, earning a confused look from the lady in front of you. You quickly shake your head at her and mouth an apology while Din grumbles in vexation.

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

Ah. So he got to the bus, then. Okay.

“Oh,” you answer ambiguously, exchanging the money for your bag of food and giving her a polite smile. Din stays completely mute while you grab your snack, stuffing the rest of the goods in your backpack and then turning to leave—mute for so long that you have to double check you didn’t accidentally do it yourself.

“…Smart girl,” you finally hear him say. Quietly muttered under his breath, half proud of you and half frustrated for making his job more difficult. “Which one of these is yours then?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you announce, before taking a large bite as you leave the establishment and talking with your mouth full. “You really gotta try the purple fruit, it’s great.”

The communicator abruptly clicks to silence on his end without anything else and you laugh so unexpectedly that a few pieces of it fly out of your mouth.

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

Somewhere miles away from you, Din jerks to a halt in the middle of a forest.

He looks around the dirt floor, walks a few paces and hears the kid coo gently from his cradle. Behind the visor, the red footprints he’s circling are the last ones around for hundreds of meters, as far as his display can read.

His helmet slowly tilts upwards, and follows the endless maze of thick branches overhead.

With the beskar hiding his face, no one can see the way he slowly breaks into a beautiful grin.

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh. Oh stars, you’re tired.

You’ve been walking all day without really seeing anything, not having any place to disguise your tracks in the wide open plains. You could’ve stuck to the road, but you started to feel the exhaustion creep in during the early afternoon and you wanted to be far away from other travelers and potential danger if you needed to rest. You knew this would be a long journey when you left Devain earlier—over a day’s walk, a group of children told you—you even tried skipping or jogging a bit to see if that would inspire more energy in you, but it didn’t help much.

The large cup of caf you bought while in town was drained hours ago and it didn’t help much either, probably because your exhaustion is more physical and not necessarily mental. It just felt like a sweet warm drink to sip before you go to sleep, that’s how much the caf helped. Still, you kept walking, kept moving forward even as you squinted in the setting sun, your feet aching from traveling for this long wearing unfamiliar shoes. The last time you changed them was hours ago, pulling another bus maneuver but with an air shuttle instead. Still, you don’t think it’ll be enough. You don’t even know where Din is but you already feel like you’re losing ground just knowing that he’s the one in pursuit.

You feel it—the hair standing up on your neck, the tingles in your hands, the stirring of your tummy—whatever the incessant gogogo that your instincts happen to scream when you’re in first place but you know the person behind you is quickly closing in. It’s day fucking one, it’s day one and you feel him in the wind as it brushes through your hair, you can’t even pause to rest because nobody knows better than you that he’s an absolute fucking machine when he wants to be. The kid may have powers beyond that which can be explained by the laws of nature, but Din is a force all his own. He drives you forward when everything inside you is telling you to stop. He keeps you awake and determined when you just desperately need to rest.

But that only goes so far. You’re bordering on two full days without sleep, and though you’d normally be able to suffer through, the constant movement is just brutal after being confined to a stationary ship for so long.

There’s a lone tree in the distance, you think. It’s hard to see. Not because it’s dark—well it is, just a bit darker tonight compared to last, but mostly because your eyelids have grown heavier and more burdensome than the bag around your shoulders. That looks like a good place to just sit for a second, right? Maybe eat some more food, try and wake yourself up? Yeah, that’s a good idea, you’ll head towards the tree and just… sit…

***

Day 2–12:00am:

Completely dead to the galaxy and sitting on your ass with your back against rough bark, the comm clicks and Din’s voice comes through the earpiece.

“Wake up.”

It startles you enough to make you lurch forward and jerk your head around in a panic, looking for any flash of beskar so you can instantly break opposite to it. You scramble on all fours to look around but you don’t see anything, not even behind the trunk when you crawl, and then you take a deep breath and use the bone of your wrists to rub your eyes vigorously after a moment, knowing your hands are filthy. “Fuck, how’d you—”

“You’re always sleepy,” Din repeats, and you collapse back into the tree with an exhausted groan, not entertained but not even having the energy to get mad about it.

“I… I gotta sleep,” you tell him, already feeling your body let go of its tension and search for the darkness of unconsciousness once more. “Shit. How d’you… mm. Stay awake all the time…”

“Sleep,” Din encourages, you can still hear him walking. “You need rest. I’ll see you soon.”

No—

“No,” you whine like a child, moaning and shoving yourself upright. Maker, you’re trying to focus, but asking that of yourself is almost impossible right now. Everything swims—you were dreaming, you think, but you can’t remember and it’s not important other than to emphasize how woozy you are. Things still feel like a dream, somehow.

You think he can hear your struggling through the comm, because the sound of his footsteps pause. “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” you tell him bluntly, giving your head a violent shake to try and wake you up. You want to slap your own cheek but you don’t want him to hear it. “I can’t sleep if you don’t.”

“I’ve have at least a couple more days in me before that happens,” Din murmurs, and you bet he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing to you. You start to slouch, hearing the voice he uses when he’s curled around your body in the darkness of the hull. So warm, so gentle. If you use your imagination, you can feel his fingers drawing slow circles on your back, the vibration of his low voice rumbling against your ear as you lay your head on his chest. “If I hunt you the way I’d hunt a quarry, I’m going to find you before you wake up.”

“Then I’ll jus’ have to… not let tha’ happen,” you slur. Even this close to unconsciousness, you try your best to throw in a misdirect. “Already… paid for the bed an’ everything.”

“Sure you did. You in another tree?”

You immediately frown even as your eyes drop closed, too tired to fight but still managing to sound upset. “You makin’ fun of me?” You ask him with a harumph. Genuinely, you’re not smart enough to figure it out right now.

“Not hardly,” Din sighs, sounding… you don’t know. Is that displeasure or not? It’s not immediately clear. Does it sound that way because you’re just dumb stupid right now? Or because Din can’t actually decide how he feels about it? “Lucky I heard water over the comm last night, I would’ve wasted hours in that forest.”

“Noooo,” you whine in response, trying to push yourself off the tree but tipping sideways in the process, “that’s not fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules,” he repeats himself again and… nope, you don’t even have the energy to snark something back. You just grumble your best imitation of him while you do everything you can to heave yourself upright. It’s pitiful, you lose your balance not even halfway through and just plop on the grass for a second and groan.

“Stop,” Din eventually orders through the earpiece, tired of it. “What’s sixteen times itself?”

You’re loopy to the point where you don’t even question why he decided to ask you that. You just furrow your brows for a second and try to think about it, before suddenly realizing you… don’t know, you can’t remember. Multiplication tables and squares up to twenty are elementary to you, you know them by heart. Sixteen times sixteen. One forty-four. No… no that doesn’t sound right, is that twelv—

You take way too long answering what would’ve been an immediate response two days ago.

“I’ll stop here for tonight,” Din tells you with a resolved sigh. “I won’t move until you wake up. Go to sleep. You’re putting yourself in danger, you can’t even do the basics.”

Later, this moment will come back to you. That problem isn’t basic, not many adults would be able to tell you very quickly that the answer is two fifty-six. You don’t even think Din would. You would, though. On Naboo, you used rapidly applied trigonometry in your head to find his location, and that was barely two minutes after waking up. You should know this. And he knows you.

But for right now, you don’t pay it a single lick of attention.

“You promise?” You ask quietly, voice incredibly small as your head tilts back towards the sky, already feeling yourself beginning to fall back into the darkness again.

“I promise,” he vows in return, gentle but a promise nonetheless. He doesn’t have to do this. You wouldn’t be able to keep going even if he didn’t offer up this temporary truce, but knowing he isn’t currently gaining ground on you makes the idea of sleep so much more welcoming, something you want to seek out instead of fight.

“Will you, um…” your expression furrows. How do you say this? You sigh, giving up before even trying to figure it out. “I’m… not in a bed. I’m outside.”

Din doesn’t say anything when you pause, and even through the haze wanting to take over, you know it’s going to sound needy. You want him to stay. Even in the midst of an adventure, you want him to stay, you want to hear him breathe as you rest, but there’s not really an integrous way to ask.

You don’t need to ask.

“I’ll keep the comm open and wake you when the sun rises,” comes his lulling baritone before you can elaborate anymore, enveloping you in comfort in this dreadfully uncomfortable bed of grass and dirt. “Sleep, sweet girl. I’m right here.”

***

Day 2–5:34am:

The sun shines over the hills and you lift your head up to squint your eyes at it, confused as fuck. Looking down at your wrist to check the time in the warm rays, hands and clothes dirty from laying on the ground that long—you stay groggy and clueless for just a moment longer, before your heart lurches when you remember Din’s promise to you.

You open your mouth to address him but then catch yourself just in time. Wait. Don’t panic. Listen.

Breathing. Slow and relaxed through the earpiece, a rhythm now branded into your memory from months of nights spent in pitch black. He’s… asleep.

Din is asleep? Seriously?

You can count like… twice that this has happened, and one of those was because he got you to touch him just right after closing up a wound on his back, and his body couldn’t handle the strain and passed out. You’re never awake when he’s asleep—you’re just not, it doesn’t happen. Din… sleeps like it’s just a choice for him, he doesn’t ever really need it. Almost like how he used to eat before he started sharing meals with you, he said he doesn’t even like food that much. You think he just severed all of those things long ago, things that are basic fundamentals of survival and operated like a bounty droid that lost its voice box. It’s… nice, feeling like you’re somehow giving back some of the things he lost. Unintentionally encouraging him to find sleep again. Making sure he eats more, listening to him speak.

You struggle to your feet as quietly as possible, hearing him continue to breathe slow and relaxed through the communicator. This isn’t purposeful, you don’t think he actually allowed it. He promised you, and Din doesn’t take shit back. If he tells you he’ll do something and he doesn’t follow through, it’s either out of his control or a mistake, it’s never been purposeful. He didn’t mean to fall asleep.

And, in other circumstances, you most definitely would not find some way to take advantage of this. You’d let him sleep and do other things in the meantime—make some food for you and the kid, find something on the Crest that isn’t spotless and clean until it is, or just… lay there next to him until he woke up. But… these circumstances are their own. You have to capitalize now, this is your chance. You passed out last night around… ten pm, you think it was, and then he promised to stop at midnight. That means you have to walk at least two hours before he wakes up if you want to prevent any loss of ground—you don’t know where he stopped, he could be a few miles back even.

You have to find Nariss—you have to. It’s your only option, if you keep trying to run, it’s just going to make it so much easier for him. Now is the time to hide. You know it hasn’t been long, it’s barely been two days since you first left the Crest but it feels like you’re already in endgame, already making moves in self-defense instead of actually planning your maneuvers ahead of time.

The capital should be half a day’s walk from here, then. As long as you get there, you think you’ll be okay.

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

You immediately stop, seeing a busy road in the distance and glad you haven’t quite made it there yet, before trying to disguise your voice as drowsy. “Mm?”

“Shit,” he breathes, and you hear him get up, the sound of beskar moving as he grunts.

“Mpph,” you groan back, squinting your eyes to see if that’ll help sell the act. “I thought you… Mando, fuck, y’said you’d wake me when the sun came up.”

“I… fell asleep,” he admits, voice rough with it, sounding just as confused as you felt earlier.

“You said you had days in you before that happened,” you murmur, taking a deep breath and stretching your arms up above your head. Stars, your back hurts, how does he possibly manage to carry a fucking jet pack around all the time?

“Yeah, I…” He pauses for a moment and you bite your lip, not liking the quiet as soon as you hear it. “How long have you been up?”

Op. Not good. “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it. “How long?”

How in Maker’s name? This is impossible. How can you hope to hide from him when you can’t even manage to hide the smallest fucking truth from him? Can you salvage this somehow? “…Like ten minutes.”

“Least a few hours, then,” he sighs, and you get ready to hit him with the same line he used when you complained about his leg-up, opening your mouth as soon as you hear him speak. “That was smar—”

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

Oh. Well. Apparently you didn’t have a reason to feel shitty about deciding to haul ass while he was passed out even though you kind of ended up doing so anyways. There was no agreement besides that he wouldn’t move until you woke up. Reason is on your side, but it still feels a bit like you fucked him over. Is that valid or are you just so used to being nice that putting yourself first feels like a wrong you’ve committed?

“Don’t feel bad,” Din tells you, and you hear a soft coo in the background. It makes you smile the smallest bit, your shoulders relaxing even as they ache from carrying your pack around. “You should feel bad about stealing that poor kid’s shoes, though. He walked home barefoot.”

You smack your forehead. “It was just….”

“Yeah,” he scoffs when you don’t finish your sentence, and you can’t keep back a giggle. “Alright, I’m up now. See you when you get here.”

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh. What the fuck was that?

No. Nope, you’re not going to get played. That was a brilliant attempt at fucking with you, but you’re not falling for it this time. You’ve grown since that night on Canto Bight, you know him, he can’t just say shit to fuck with your head and then smile at your flailing response from under the helmet anymore. You normally would stew in that last comment until it got to you, made you make a mistake most likely, but the more you think about it, the more certain you are that he has nothing. He was just trying to see if you’ll abandon your entire plan just by implying he already knows it. That’s beginner shit, you’re not falling for it. Din wanted to leave the conversation with the upper-hand since you gained at least an hour of extra ground while he slept. You’re certain of it.

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

Nariss is big. Nowhere near the size of Coruscanti sectors of course, where billions of people are packed from surface to exosphere and require oxygen recirculation towers to breathe at the very top, but just slightly bigger than you expected. It’s bustling and you haven’t even made it through the city gates yet—you’re approaching them and the large number of people waiting in line, seeing buildings stretch out for miles in front of you and grinning. Yes, this will work nicely.

As you peek over shoulders in the sizable crowd, you see only two or three people allowing people to enter one at a time… is that a biometric scanner?

Oh. That looks good and it also doesn’t look good at the same time. If Din’s safety meant nothing to you, you’d have no trouble whatsoever getting in line and waiting to do a retinal scan, but you immediately pause and consider the potential consequences.

Your dumb ass almost weighs the option of clicking the communicator on and asking his opinion. You’d give away your location in a heartbeat (if he doesn’t know it already) just because you’re worried he’d… what, exactly? Stand in line for an hour, take his helmet off in front of a crowd of people, have the system ping his scan, and then hang out and wait for New Republic reinforcements to show? You have to stop worrying about him. He’s not a baby, he can handle himself and you need to stop considering the possibility of taking a loss just so he doesn’t have to, even if the self-destructive sentiment feels ingrained in your nature to do so.

So you wait in line, moving at a slow pace but at least moving. While you’re standing there quietly, a man in front of you decides to strike up a conversation. You don’t come from a place with an excess of people, but the ones in your sector were friendly and did this kind of thing often, so perhaps for that reason, you decide to chat.

“Do you have some place to stay?” He asks at one point. So far the conversation has revolved around him—every time he asks about you, you deflect. He doesn’t need to know. “Nariss isn’t kind to drifters.”

This catches your attention, though. This is relevant. “What does that mean?”

“It’s expensive?” He scratches his blonde hair, giving you a soft smile. “Food, housing, all of it is way out of my price-range. I stay with my uncle and work overnights at the eastern docks. It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep a roof over our heads. We used to live in Gibrath, but then we moved to the city because he’s a good architect and they’re always expanding. It’s nice, of course, but really expensive.”

He’s handsome, you think… in kind of a boyish, charming way. Blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes. He doesn’t look much older than you, and maybe in another lifetime you would’ve found him appealing, but… you like darker features, you think. Someone a little less expressive. This guy… talks a lot.

“I thought this moon was a safe world for people displaced by the Empire,” you offer, taking a step forward as the entire crowd shifts.

“Sanctuary II is,” he comments. “The capital is safe, too—what, with all the orangies walking around,” he tilts his head to two jumpsuited guards trying to organize the glob of people so the line can move faster, rolling his eyes as if they’re some kind of joke. “But not… welcoming, not if you’re looking for a place to settle. You would’ve been better off in G’ila.”

“Is there anywhere you know that would take me for free?” You ask. You have quite a few credits left, but you don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in an inn. It’ll be the first place Din checks.

“Are you a virgin?” He returns, and you immediately pull back at the unexpected question, your heart thudding at the possibility of danger. The man’s sandy eyebrows shoot up at your response and he quickly apologizes—“Heavens, I’m so sorry to ask like that! It’s just… the only place I know is the Holy Keja Orphanage on the northern outskirts. Their signs say they only house children and teenagers, but I’ve heard from other girls your age that they’ll accept any woman as long as they’ve stayed pure in the eyes of the Maker.”

“Oh,” you say after a moment, leaning sideways to see just a few people standing in front of him. Good, this is almost over. “Um. Yep. That’s me.”

He smiles at you once more, giving you a nod. “When you get to the city, just go straight through. It’s about a mile outside of the gates, no more than a day’s walk from this side of town.”

Okay, that’s… interesting. You think about it while you thank him and begin to exchange polite goodbyes, moving up another step until he’s next in line. That might actually be a good move. Din could spend a long time in the city without ever finding you. Smart quarry go to populated places, but… smarter quarry defy the expectations placed upon them, right? He knows you’re smart, and even though you’re confident his “See you when you get here” was purely psychological fuckery, that also implies… at the very least, that he’s assuming there is a here to get to. Meaning, he knows you’re not going into the wilderness to evade him. He’s not going to comb the outskirts when there are so many places to hide within the city gates, with an entire perimeter of New Republic guards stationed around it. Even if he does, the signs will say only children and teenagers—categories you do not fall into.

The unnamed man is soon ushered forward but you stop him quickly. “Oh, by the way. I doubt this will happen, but if a man in a big metal suit with a tiny green baby happen to ask you the same thing, please don’t tell him what you just told me.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head, but smiles and agrees nonetheless.

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

You’ve been working on it all afternoon, but you were hit with it the second you were looking for another pair of shoes to buy and find a clever way of putting on.

The cheapest ones were ridiculously overpriced, blonde dude was right. You blinked down at the tag and asked the salesman where the cheapest shoes in this part of town were, and then he just wrinkled his nose at you and shooed you out of the store. Granted, you slept in dirt and spent two days walking—you bet you reek, but he didn’t have to be like that.

Though, the man’s displeasure with you had an upside. You were holding a possible pair of pants and a shirt to buy when he threw you out, not yet having checked the atrocious pricetag on them, but it appeared as if he’d rather let you have them for free than rip them from your… admittedly, pretty filthy arms. Oh well, you weren’t complaining. Fancy clothes for free, score.

But now you’re here, and you have the best idea. You don’t need to change shoes, not yet. Why? Because you’ve figured out how to turn your incessant detriment into an advantage.

You’re in the middle of downtown, you think, maybe just some random crowded square, and there’s an inn in front of you. It’s fucking enormous, and you already know it’s gotta be incredibly expensive just looking at the sheer number of stories. It’s an eyesore, it sticks out. But that’s okay, because you’re only planning on staying for a night.

It’s also… right next to New Republic headquarters. Or fuck, at least a station of some sort, because they’re swarming in and out of the constant crowd, passing by the valet doors.

At first you naturally wanted to steer away from the jumpsuits, since you know they’re bad news for Din, but then you remember what he said before you left. I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it. I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.

It’s to your advantage, he said so himself. Everything lines up perfectly—the street is bustling, the inn is well protected, it’s nice—it’s everything you’re looking for.

And there’s another upside, see. An omnipresent, omniscient ghost in the form of a communicator clipped to your wrist right now. If Din is always going to be able to predict you, he’s always going to know when you’re lying, always be able to read you… then you’ll just have to let him.

Let him know. Let him know exactly where you are. Right in the middle of the most populated street you’ve seen thus far, a constant barrage of people walking by and New Republic officers patrolling. If you were planning on staying in the city, this would probably be your best option to hide. He could waste days here if you’re smart about it.

The concierge doesn’t appear too pleased with your lack of cleanliness and neither do you, honestly, but at least he allows you to book a suite for the night. It’s… not as bad as you were originally assuming, credits-wise, but it’s worth more than half your stash and you’re going to have to conserve from this point on. It shouldn’t be too bad—your destination is a holy orphanage, you’re sure they’ll have some extra food and a bed for you even if it won’t be ideal. Still, you think you’re going to enjoy some lavish experiences for once in your life before you go.

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

Alright, so this was the best idea ever. This is the shit.

You’re leaning back against a fluffy stack of pillows, squeaky clean from an absolutely glorious bath and watching the flickering drama on the large holonet display in front of you. You don’t have any idea what’s going on, as it’s being broadcast in Rodian, but you haven’t been able to change the frequency because it’s so fucking intense—somebody’s sister is their mother, you think? No, that must be a mistranslation, right?

You’re also in a robe. Yes, there is a motherfucking robe in here. And… and slippers, it’s like a dream. Do people normally wear slippers in bed? You do. Hell, maybe you should stay here, screw the credits and the chase. This mattress is even better than the one on Naboo and you’re basking in the luxury after being outdoors for so long.

The lights are off other than that and you’ve opened the drapes wide, knowing you’re on something like the fifteenth floor and nobody would be able to see you anyways. You just like being able to turn your head and look out at the sky. Violent and periwinkle tonight. You wonder if he’s looking, too.

Luckily, you snap yourself back out of it and glance down at the time on your communicator, quickly pressing a button on the remote to mute the Rodian show and then opening the line the moment the hour changes.

Day 3–12:00am:

“Hiya, Shiny,” you say before anything else, laying back and running a few fingers through your damp hair. Your eyes close against the flickering light, taking a slow, relaxed breath. Maker, this feels nice.

“You sound happy,” Din comments. Astute, you feel happy. Well… you’d obviously feel happier if he was here. Your eyes flick over to the open bathroom door, still steamy from your bubble bath earlier, imagining him walking through it completely naked and then climbing over you on the covers. You can only really picture it from the neck down—no, hang on… you can see his shaggy brown curls, that one spot on his forehead you know, how his facial hair would be dark and frame his mouth. No face, though. Missing just one fraction of him from your imagination, feeling incomplete but also somehow… complete in a way.

“I feel better after sleeping last night,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the softness of the sheets underneath you, the sheer comfort of all this extravagance. You don’t need it, you’ll never need it, but it feels nice to have for once.

“I do, too,” he replies quietly, and your eyes flutter closed. You… miss him. This mattress would feel softer with him next to you. He’d probably be able to translate this show for you, even though you already know he’d fucking hate it. You can imagine it—you with your eyes closed, him propped up on an elbow next to you and grumbling vague descriptions of the nonsense happening on screen just to hear your chuckles. Adventures are great, but maybe they aren’t as great by yourself, you think.

“You should sleep tonight, too,” you encourage, but he scoffs.

“Not a chance,” Din mutters. “Oh, before I forget, we need to charge the communicators today.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” You ask him, glancing at all the multiple wireless charging outlets stationed around you. “I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

He doesn’t even take a fucking second before responding. “Good one.”

You grin up at the ceiling, warmth flooding you. You love him. Literally every single time, he just knows. Your curiosity is too overwhelming after this happening so often. Your plan to distract him relies on him being able to read you, but that doesn’t prevent you from wondering how he does it so accurately, time and time again. “How do you know?”

“You slept outside last night,” he immediately tells you, like that should mean anything to you.

Does he… does he truly know you well enough to know how much your back and shoulders hurt today? How much you were aching for a shower and clean clothes? A bed to sleep on that isn’t dirt or metal? You give into the accurate prediction with shameless honesty, not caring if he knows it’s the truth.

“This bed is soft,” you murmur gently, dragging your hand across the mattress next to you. “You should be here. I’d make you feel good.”

Admittedly, your comfort is making you a bit drowsy and you said it in the easiest way possible, but you didn’t necessarily mean it sexually. Well… you sort of did—you’d make him feel so good in this bed—but what you meant was more… comforting. He could take a bath, or a shower, and get all the grime off him. He could feel clean and unburdened, take a break instead of constantly moving around. The baby could have a whole bed to himself if he wanted, though you know he’d probably want to be on this one instead. You could all look at the sky together.

Din is quiet for a little bit, before his voice comes back through the earpiece. “Are you in an inn?”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly. Perfect, that sounded just right for a lie. You are lying, you absolutely are in an inn, the only difference is that you want him to catch on that it’s a lie, so… why does he take way too long before responding?

“Hm.”

What the fuck—why… how is it even physically possible? He read you that deeply from one single word? You’re not sure if he’s somehow psychic and figured the whole fucking thing out or if he just knows there’s something off, but it’s still enough to blow you away.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” You blurt without thinking.

“Doing what?” He grunts, sounding like he’s stepping over something, his breath changing intensity as he walks.

“If I look out this window right now, am I gonna see you standing out there just messing with me?” You don’t even know what to believe anymore. How do you beat this? If you don’t want him to know the truth, he’ll figure it out, and if you do want him to know the truth, he’ll still figure it out. His perception is unbelievable.

After a moment of silence, he murmurs gently through the comm. “I thought you said you were in the middle of nowhere.” It sounds like he’s smiling.

“I…” your eyes shift around awkwardly, “am…”

Din lets out a deep sigh. He’s right, that was bad, even for you. “I found your bed a few hours ago,” he admits. You close your eyes as you listen to him make his way closer to you, step by step. “I’m nowhere near the city yet. You have time to sleep.”

Your expression furrows and you frown. “Why are you helping me?”

“Why do you want me to think you’re in an inn?” He tosses back, and you huff.

“Because I’m trying to outsmart you but you make it really fucking difficult,” you grumble, not happy about him catching on so quick.

“You’ve also gained about four hours on me since we started.” His voice is gruff. You don’t know if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing. “You should give yourself more credit. I thought I would’ve found you by now, never expected you to get all the way to Nariss. It’s… not good for me.”

The honesty creeping in makes you go soft. It makes you want to reciprocate, even if it’s dumb and you haven’t thought it all the way through. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.” His voice is a bed all its own, deep and gentle and safe.

You say it before you lose the nerve. “I might just turn around and walk back.”

His footsteps stop and you hear a small sound in the background, a quiet little baby noise that suddenly makes your heart ache. You’re comfortable but incredibly aware of how alone you are. People pass by on the streets below, cars and hoverbikes honk in the distance and you’re by yourself. For the first time in over a year, like you have been for years, you’re by yourself.

“Sweet girl,” Din sighs, and all of a sudden… you can feel his arms around you with it. You feel so… known, somehow. Every sentiment you could’ve possibly given in your last sentence, he relays his understanding back with his. He makes you feel loved with it. “Never wants to run.”

You don’t say anything, because you suddenly realize you’re totally fucking whipped, up down and sideways for his metal ass and the little floating grimlin that follows him around, and you would throw away the fifth quarry, adventure, the sky—literally everything if you could be with the both of them right now.

But again. You don’t have to say anything, he already knows. “Give me your coordinates.”

Your eyes pop open and you bite your lip. Oh, stars. You hate that you do genuinely consider it. He could be here, and very soon. With the jet pack, both of them could be here in less than an hour, probably. He could take a shower. Watch these stupid shows with you all night without needing to be on the move, help you build a bed of pillows for the kid on top of this one. You could be with both of them again, even if it’s only for a little while.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you finally whisper, looking down at the soft white fabric of your robe, the way one of your slippers is falling off your foot as the holonet program continues to play on mute.

Din’s footsteps eventually start up again, and you both relax in silence together. You, squinting at the screen because your eyes are getting heavy; him, continuing to travel step by step and gain ground on you. Let him come. You’ll be long gone by the time he even makes it to the gates.

It’s been about ten minutes of shared, quiet existence before you hear him bite into something and chew, and your face suddenly lights up.

“Are you eating the purple fruit?” You ask, your slipper falling off with excitement. You don’t know why, but it’s like… you’re stoked for him. Just as proud of him for doing normal things as he does when you step out of your own comfort zone. You like to think you’re both better that way. Balanced.

“Mm,” Din replies with his mouth full, and you grin down at your bare legs peeking through the robe while he swallows.

“Is it not the best thing you’ve ever tasted?” Your voice goes a little breathless with it, and you hear his footsteps stop once more.

“Close,” Din murmurs lowly, sending a small shudder through you. It suddenly feels a bit warm in here, doesn’t it? This morning was one of the rare times you were awake while he was asleep… it’s almost always the other way around, and just from the implication in his tone, you’re reminded of the thing he likes doing most when you’re resting. Maybe he’ll let you do it to him, next time around. The thought gets you hot enough to warrant the other slipper falling to the floor.

“You’re alone, right?” You whisper, knowing he must’ve pulled the helmet up to take a bite of the fruit. He must still be following your path through the hillside, then, not yet reaching the road.

“The kid is awake,” Din tells you, sounding like he’s trying to stop everything before anything starts. His words are short and clear in their meaning, but…

This has a very small chance of success, you already know. “…Do you want to—”

“No,” he responds quickly, already way ahead of you. “We can’t.”

Something in his voice… you don’t know, there’s just something there that makes you feel just a little reckless. Should you push it? You’re by yourself in this suite, what can go wrong?

“You can’t,” you correct him quietly, shifting around on the bed just a bit and biting your lip. It’s a thrill—being able to tease him without having him in front of you, drive him crazy knowing you’re just out of his reach. “But I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”

There’s a pause, a tense and knowing silence suspended between you before he eventually speaks.

“I’d be real careful,” Din mutters low in warning, but what is he gonna do?

“What are you gonna do?” You whisper to him devilishly. Quiet and breathy, beginning to snake your hand down. Stars, your heart is already pounding. You’d only likely mouth off like this in person just to see how hard he’d fuck you, but this feels extra dangerous for some reason. He’s stuck, he can’t do anything about it right now, and you know it’s playing with fire. “You could hang up if you don’t want to hear me. Or you could find me before I’m finished. Come make me stop.”

Din doesn’t say anything but he very much does not hang up, nor does he come busting into your room like you imagine he’d like to. The sheer fact that your door is still closed and locked tells you for sure that he isn’t just hanging out in the hallway, just letting you have your fun.

You start pressing your fingers against your robe at the apex of your thighs, humming at how nice the pressure feels. You don’t even spread your legs or push the fabric away, you just sigh into it and wiggle your hips a bit, pressing hard against your clit and listening to him breathe.

“Do you want to listen?” You ask quietly after a moment, and Din still doesn’t respond. Likely because there’s not a real answer, both yes and no would imply the wrong thing. “I’ll talk.”

Still, nothing from him. Dead silence through the comm. You’re starting to understand. For two days, you’ve felt like he could read your every thought just by the cadence of your voice. He’s staying quiet so you can’t even attempt to do the same to him—if he doesn’t talk, you can’t find a weakness and pounce on it, you can’t feel any more confident or reassured about your own ability to read him.

You’ll just have to push a little harder, then.

“Hm. If only this fancy communicator could…” you pause to look down at your wrist for a second, studying the menu. You don’t think you’ve ever really looked at it, you never had the time.

Din’s growl is sudden and sharp through the earpiece. “No, don’t even think—”

“Ah,” you smile, tapping the face and immediately finding the correct screen. “Take pictures.”

He’s deadly quiet for a moment, and you bite your lip with excitement. When he does speak, his voice is a pure threat, chilling you to the bone as much as it burns deep in your tummy. “…You wouldn’t.”

Ignoring him, you suddenly locate a menu option that sounds phenomenal right now. “Oh shit, does this holocall? Or is it a video option?”

“Holo,” he says very seriously while you study the lack of complexity of the built-in camera in skepticism, “and the kid is awake, so you can’t—”

“Oh, it’s definitely a video,” you unclip it from your wrist and he curses as you sit up, and then you press a button and wait impatiently for him. “Pick up.”

Din takes forever before responding, and you hear the continuous beeps as it attempts to connect, before his quiet baritone rumbles in your ear. “What if I don’t?”

You feel your mouth pull down at the corners, not so much frowning as you are dubious. He’s going to turn down the opportunity to see you and your surroundings when his whole goal is locating you? Really?

“You sure?” You ask softly, raising an eyebrow. “You’d get to see me, where I am. What I’m…” your eyes dip down to the loose robe riding your curves, your skin glowing against the white fabric, “…wearing.”

The beeps continue on for a few more seconds, until they finally stop. You frown down at the black screen of the communicator, not seeing anything at all. Did he decline the transmission request? No… there’s a little red light next to the small lens that wasn’t there before. Why can’t you see him?

“Why can’t I see you?” You ask. You want to look at him looking at you, you don’t want to always be stuck on the other side of a one-way mirror.

“I… have it linked to my helmet, but it only has a front-facing camera,” Din tells you after a moment, and he sounds… slightly out of breath. “Easier to see, the watch is useless now besides the controls.”

Wait, does that mean you’re… being shown on the inner-display of his helmet instead of his wrist? Right in front of his eyes, as if he were actually here with you?

“Nobody can see me but you?” You clarify, and when he doesn’t respond, you bite your lip and lean back into the pillows. You lift the watch up slightly, extending your arm out until you can get the angle as wide as possible. “Can you see… this?” You ask softly, before hooking your fingers in the collar of your white robe and slowly pulling it open for him.

“Where are you?” Din asks instead, and you hear his footsteps through the earpiece, as if he’s walking away from something very quickly.

You don’t answer him, parting the soft fabric until your breasts are completely exposed and you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling back into the pillows once more. “I’ll tell you where I am if you keep watching me.”

“Why?” Din grits in frustration, coming back around to the same dangerous question he had earlier. “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.” You slowly tilt the camera down until you can spread your legs and the robe falls open with the movement, letting him see your pussy peeking through in the flickering light of the muted screen in front of your bed. “Can you see that?”

“Yeah,” he says shakily on the end of a breath, and you feel yourself get wet. Fuck, he sounds so fucking tempted, the sight making his voice come without any of the self-assuredness as it usually has, but… he could also just be saying that. How do you know he’s telling you the truth?

“What am I doing?” You test him, lifting your knee just the slightest bit so you really give him something to look at.

“Spreading your legs for a camera,” Din responds without hesitation, voice scraping against your ear, making you shiver and your nipples harden. Fuck, the way he says it, like it’s wrong and bad even though he’s the only one who can see or hear you do it… it makes you feel even more naughty and emboldened.

You bite your lip and reach your hand down to spread your lips for him, too, hearing his breath immediately catch on the other end. Already your pussy makes your fingers slick against your soft skin, the sash of your robe still holding the fabric together on your body but also loose enough to allow it to part in the right places and reveal everything you want him to see.

“I am in an inn,” you whisper teasingly, letting your finger drop to brush against your clit and then sighing in soft delight. Oh stars, that feels nice, it feels so good to treat yourself after being completely nomadic for two days, getting to be clean and soft and comfortable while you feel this pleasure, and Din’s voice growls through your communicator like you’re doing something painful to him.

“Fuck,” his breathing picks up while you begin circling your clit. “Where?”

“Nariss,” comes your quiet moan, turning your head on the pillow to blink slowly at the camera. Wanting him to see your eyes as well as your finger slowly dip into where you’re the hottest, caressing the sensitive skin there knowing he’s watching.

“Where in Nariss?” Din’s voice is as pleading as it is sharp, desperately trying to keep either you or himself on track.

“I don’t know,” you say again. Truthfully, you don’t—you don’t know the cross streets, you don’t know the part of town, you don’t know much of anything at all besides physical descriptors. You quickly move the camera to the side as far as you can hold it and let him see you from a different angle with the window as a backdrop. “But the window is open. And there are lots of people outside.”

“Can they see you?” Din immediately challenges. Of course they can’t, you’re fifteen stories up and the room is darker than it is outside with all the city lights and swirling colors of the sky, but you suppose he doesn’t know that. You think he just needs to relax—if this is what he’s always like during hunts, you now know exactly why he comes back to you all riled up and tense.

“I don’t know,” you murmur back, starting to rub your clit a little faster, trying to make it feel like him. It doesn’t—your fingers aren’t large or strong enough to give you those perfect circles; you just feel like you’re meandering yourself towards ecstasy instead of picking you up and hauling your ass there like he does, but it’s okay. Hearing Din’s rough breathing come through the earpiece, knowing his hands are probably clenched tight into fists, wondering if he’s hard yet… all of it culminates into a power trip unlike any you’ve experienced recently. It makes you bold, tells you to open your mouth. “Does it matter? I’d still let you fuck me against it if you were here.”

“Stop it,” comes his growl, but what is he gonna do?

Your leg lifts a little wider so you can slowly slide your fingers down and push two of them inside yourself, and Din swears as you moan, “Come find me.”

“Give me your coordinates—”

“Are you giving up?” You offer breathlessly, lifting your eyebrows and your hips up slightly at the question, but you’re… not expecting the extended silence following. You assumed a growled no would immediately come next, or just another empty threat said with enough force to make you tremble with excitement, but not… nothing.

The response makes you pause just for a second, easing your fingers out and dragging them across your thigh to clean some of the wetness off before extending your arm out towards the communicator. Din stays quiet while you navigate through the menu with trembling fingers, eventually finding your coordinates and hovering over the unchecked share location box.

You wait with your lip bit, confident he knows what you’re doing and you don’t have to narrate or repeat yourself. Fuck, you knew you were considering abandoning this entire adventure just to be next to him again, but you had no idea. No fucking idea that it could ever be a thought in his own mind as well. You… assumed he likes this, hunting is what he does for a living and he’s the one who conceived of the idea in the first place. Is he just that aroused by you? Or is there something more?

“No,” Din eventually murmurs, and you immediately navigate out of the menu so you don’t accidentally press anything catastrophic, before pulling your hand away from the communicator with a resolved hum and settling back into the pillows again. Making sure to look directly into the lens even if your eyelids are heavy with heat and desire, you slowly lick your fingers and then reach down once more.

His deep, shaky breath is so telling. Exhausted after all this, but still not hanging up, still doing his hardest to tough it out when he’s only miles away from you and has jets attached to his back. You don’t want to drag it out but you also do, you want to be kind but something about Din makes you also want to be as formidable as possible. You’ll never be able to threaten like he does, you’ll never have anyone cower just because you walked into the room, you’ll never be as powerful or strong as he is, but you can still put up a fucking fight against him in your own way.

You whimper softly, your breathing beginning to find a quicker pace as surely as your fingers do. It begins to spark and build, a red hot flame being kindled by the knowledge that he’s as close as possible without actually being close, right here with you when he always seems so far away.

“Mando,” you whisper, though your expression pulls inwards just slightly because it… in a scenario as sensual and intimate as this, it almost doesn’t sound righ—

“Din,” he whispers back, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyways, and then you just start to fucking burn.

“D-Din,” you whisper instead, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell. He’ll be able to see it, you think. The way your tummy and chest start to heave, how your body begins to brace for it—and yeah, Maker, he sees it, because his voice suddenly changes.

“Stop,” Din growls roughly, knowing exactly how you cum—knowing exactly what it looks like, the way it sounds in your breathing, what it tastes like, how it feels on the inside. It’s been so long since you’ve touched bliss without him, months and months since you brought yourself to completion on the floor of the Crest by yourself, and though he’s rarely ever denied you, your own high on newfound control causes it to slip. He barks your name and tells you to stop once more, but it’s too late.

“I’m gonna cum, Din,” you breathe out—

“Don’t—”

It tears through you, rapid and surging, and he snarls a curse, something loud snapping and thudding and… did he just punch something? You can’t think, it’s delicious and hard as fuck and everything you needed after two days of near constant movement and thought with little rest, and you bite your lip to keep quiet but a pained whimper still shoves its way out of your tense vocal cords regardless. It sounds like it hurts because it does hurt; the orgasm shatters your body into pieces and you’re left trembling by yourself on this soft bed, wishing he was with you on a metal one.

You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you. You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now. You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.

“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you. Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples. “Clean me up.”

“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious. “You think—y-you think—”

“What?” You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious. Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.

There’s a moment where his breathing stops. It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?” He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet. “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there? You think that’s gonna work?”

Your eyebrow lifts, considering. He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now. “Maybe…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh. That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart. He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you. Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word. “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly. Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down. “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid. Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days. I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss. You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it. You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his. He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey. “How long do you think you can keep running?”

Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not? What have you got to lose? Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways. What’s the worst he can do? Find you?

You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here. “Ask me again tomorrow.”

But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days. You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you. You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.

***

Day 3—2:23am:

Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.

But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table. It blinks with four percent battery life.

***

To be continued!!

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian #smut #reader insert #fanfic #rough day #no-droids #tw: stalking

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sluttywonwoo · 3 years ago

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study buddies || k.mg x reader

Pairing: frat!mingyu x fem reader

Summary: studying for midterms with the guy you’re hooking up with goes exactly how you’d expect

Warnings: swearing, light smut (18+)

Word Count: 1.6k

a/n: reworked this old blurb originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark ) for my gf’s birthday :)) happy birthday @hotgirlmingyu

Masterlist

You woke up to banging on your apartment door. Groaning, you rolled over to check your phone and saw that it was six am. You pushed yourself up and out of bed and padded into the kitchen to answer the door. You were surprised the relentless knocking hadn’t woken up your roommate, but she was a pretty heavy sleeper.

You yanked the door open to see Mingyu with a handful of textbooks. You squinted at him in confusion, wondering if you were seeing things. Mingyu had never been to your place before, you didn’t even know he knew where you lived.

His appearance startled you a bit. His hair was messy where it was usually slicked back or styled and he was wearing gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him in anything other than khakis and a douchey printed shirt.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, rubbing your eyes.

He frowned. “You said we should study for midterms together.”

You thought back to the last time you’d seen Mingyu. You couldn’t remember saying anything like that.

“Was I drunk?”

“Probably.”

“So why are you here?”

“To study. You agreed that we could help each other out.”

“Mingyu, I don’t even remember agreeing to that.”

“Well I’m already here,” he said and pushed past you into your apartment.

“Seriously? It’s Saturday.”

“Yeah, and midterms are next week.”

“Couldn’t you have waited until the sun was up?” you grumbled, mostly to yourself and shut the door behind him.

“We’ve got a lot of material to cover.”

You cursed under your breath as you watched him set up at your kitchen table, knowing you should probably study even though you desperately wanted to go back to bed.

You and Mingyu had met at a party at his fraternity and woke up the next morning tangled in the sheets of his bed. To say it was awkward would have been an understatement. You didn’t think you’d ever see him again, but to your horror, you saw him in your stats lecture on Monday and your mythology class on Thursday. This was a pretty big university. Why did the same asshole have to be in two of your classes?

As much as it annoyed you, you couldn’t stop thinking about Mingyu, and apparently, he was having a similar dilemma because every time you went out he seemed to be there, and every time you hooked up.

That was the extent of your relationship, though. You didn’t even speak to each other in class or at parties. The only time you talked was behind closed doors when one or both of you was naked. Even then you kept your guard up because you refused to let yourself fall for a frat boy with commitment issues who never wanted to be seen with the same girl twice. A boy who wouldn’t even talk to you in public.

But you couldn’t ignore the way your heart fluttered when he said your name as he was about to cum, or the way his lips felt against yours. He could be a total dick, but you’d also seen a softer side of him that he didn’t show many people. You forced yourself to forget about that side. It was easier that way.

“Okay, what are we starting with?” you asked with a sigh.

“We have the stats exam first, we should work on that.”

You made a face. Statistics was the harder out of the two for you. In fact, it was the hardest class you were taking this semester.

“I can’t believe I’m doing math before seven am.”

“You won’t be complaining when you ace the midterm,” he quipped, already working on a practice worksheet.

You watched him solve problems like he was checking items off a list. You knew he was good at statistics, but you didn’t know he was that good. Figures, a guy like him was good at pretty much everything. Everything except mythology apparently, because once you’d switched to that he was flustered and frustrated. You would quiz him on myths only for him to get every single question wrong.

“Mingyu, did you even read any of these?” you asked, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Yes, y/n, I read every one. How do you think I passed all the reading quizzes?”

“Cheating?” it slipped out before you could stop it and Mingyu gave you a hard glare. You held up your hands defensively. “Just a joke.”

“I don’t think it was.” He licked his lips. “But for what it’s worth I read them all. I just can’t keep them straight.”

You sighed. You felt bad, but you were getting frustrated too. And not just because Mingyu wasn’t grasping the myths. This was the longest you’d ever spent together (at least while you were awake) and you hadn’t even had sex. He just smelled so nice and looked so cute when he was concentrating that you couldn’t help feeling a little impatient. You had been at it for hours, you thought you would’ve done it at least once by now. But Mingyu was more serious about studying than you thought. It was kind of admirable and kind of annoying.

“Okay well reread through the Egyptian myths and I’ll quiz you again.”

“Alright.”

He pulled out his reading packet and flipped to the section you took out your phone and scrolled through social media mindlessly as he read, but it quickly got boring. You wished Mingyu would take a break so he could rail you. He was still reading intently, but you figured a little distraction couldn’t hurt.

You started by taking your hair down from your bun and shaking it out so that it fell around your shoulders. You knew your shampoo drove Mingyu crazy and hoped it would have an effect on him today. He shifted his seat, but didn’t look up from the packet. Next, you leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder. You’d never done something so domestic like this with Mingyu, but it seemed to work because he cleared his throat and adjusted his sweatpants.

“You know you could be working on math.”

You shrugged. “We already did stats for hours today. I think I’ll jump off a bridge if I look at one more differential equation.”

He fell silent and tried focusing back onto the reading, but you moved your hand to his thigh and kept it there as you continued to through twitter, not even reading what was on your screen.

“Stop that,” Mingyu muttered, making you jump a little.

“Why?”

“Fuck, because you’re distracting me. You look too hot right now.”

“I’m wearing pajamas.”

“I really don’t care. You still look hot and I’m trying not to fuck you senseless right now.”

“Well what’s stopping you?” you asked lowly and nipped at his ear.

“Need to finish this,” he replied through gritted teeth.

“I can’t convince you to take a break?” You moved the hand on his leg up so that you were cupping him over his pants.

He shook his head. “After.”

You leaned over and kissed his neck, then his jaw, and felt him get hard under your hand. “If I have to stop what I’m doing you won’t be able to walk for the next week.”

“That sounds like more of a motivator than a deterrent,” you admitted. “I’ll suck you off,” you offered and hooked your thumb in the waistband of his sweats, trying to bribe him.

“If you let me finish I’ll eat you out,” he countered.

You straightened up. It sounded like a pretty good deal.

“Fine.”

A few minutes passed in silence and you were waiting patiently, typing up a rough draft of an essay you had due for another class when Mingyu groaned.

“What?” you asked, wondering if he needed help.

“Can you please stop that?”

“Stop what? I’m literally doing nothing.” You were genuinely confused now.

“Just- I don’t know you’re making it so hard to concentrate.”

“Am I making it hard?” You smirked.

“Very funny.”

“Would it help if I put a paper bag over my head?”

“Probably.”

“Come on, keep reading about Osiris.”

“I don’t want to read about Osiris anymore, he’s a dick.”

“The faster you finish the faster you can get off.”

“I thought you didn’t want to wait,” Mingyu pointed out, trying to deflect.

“I think I recall something about you going down on me if I let you finish reading.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, but didn’t turn back to the book. Instead, he continued to gaze at you with those big brown eyes. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“What?” You felt your cheeks get warm.

“I just really want to kiss you right now.”

You smiled and raised your chin, challenging him. “Then do it.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You closed your eyes and kissed him back, savoring the moment.

When you pulled away, Mingyu’s eyes were dark with want and you could see that he was now fully hard in his sweatpants.

“How about I eat you out now anyway?” He suggested, leaning forward to kiss your neck.

You moaned and brought your hands to his hair.

“You trying to bribe me?”

“Is it working?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Mingyu stood and picked you up from your chair. You wrapped your legs around his waist again. He pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth and smirked.

“Promise you’ll finish studying after?” you asked.

He considered it. “Does what we’re about to do count as studying mythology? Because it’s going to be legendary.”

You scrunched up your face in distaste. “No, I take it back. Put me down.”

Mingyu grinned. “Hey! You know no ones gives it to you as good as I do.”

“That confident are you?”

His grin turned into a smirk. “Is that a challenge?”

lmk what you think i always appreciated feedback!!

forever tags: @haven-cove

shoot me an ask to be added/removed from my taglist

#study buddies #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu x fem reader #mingyu x fem reader #mingyu x you #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x female reader #kim mingyu x female reader #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt smut #svt x reader

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scarlettriot · 3 years ago

Text

Stood Up

You (Y/N) get stood up from a date and Kaminari decides to do something about it.

Pairing: Kaminari/F!Reader

Contains: Fluff, Flirty Denki, Established BakuSquad Friendship

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Electro-Stim, Overstimulation, use of pet names (cuddle bug & cutie), oral (F receiving), consensual recording

A/N: Well, here we are with the third in my Stood Up series. There is also Bakugo & Kirishima if you're interested. This one took me way too long and it's also my first time writing Kaminari at length. I hope you all like it :)

Word Count Starting Below: 2,461

You slipped your foot into the silver heels you had picked out. Something a little fancier since this was a first date after all and you wanted to make a lasting impression. Not only that but this was your first first date in a while. Being a Pro Hero made life busy and dating difficult.

Practically the entire day leading up to this very moment revolved around you either getting ready or babbling with excitement to your closest friends.

An alert chimed on your phone with a text from your date, a smile sliding onto your face expecting to read some message about how they were on their way and that they'd see you soon, but that wasn't what you were met with.

Instead, it was a screenshot of your Instagram page, multiple of them actually, all of you and the ridiculous photos you took with your friends but mostly with one Denki Kaminari. The most recent of which was from a tea shop he met you at just earlier that day so you could show him the shoes for your date.

The message below was simple and more than enough to leave a sour taste in your mouth, this isn't what I want to see when I'm supposed to be taking you out tonight. What, one date a day isn't enough? Why are you even dating? Does your blonde boyfriend know?

You giggled at what they were implying, quick to explain how these were all your friends, they had been since high school! They are people you spent what little free time you had with. Especially Denki, your best friend since you were 15!

That joy you felt started dissipating within the next few messages. You hadn't even had a first date and they were already jealous, and that was something you didn't have room for in your life. So, you slipped the heels off your feet and put them directly back in the box to return when you had the time. Tight black jeans and fitted top were exchanged with a hoodie and sweats although your makeup and hair stayed done, you didn't have the energy to undo your hard work.

Instead, you slid back into your computer chair, your headset snuggly back on your ears and before you notified everyone you were back online, you took a moment listening to the chatter of your friends.

"Shitty Hair! Fuckin' pay attention!"

"Yeah, man! We're getting slaughtered over here!"

"Less yelling at Kiri! More shooty shooty!"

"All of you are hopeless..."

Eijiro chuckled out an apology that was accompanied by a lighter giggle also coming from his mic. "Think this is gonna be my last round for a bit, guys."

"You're so fuckin' whipped." Bakugo scoffed, before screaming profanities.

"Is it whipped if I'm the one who's wanting to get her into bed though?"

You clicked your mic back on then. "Hey, remember last week when Kats forgot his push to talk so we all heard him getting head and we party whipped because someone couldn't focus?"

"You better shut the hell up right fucking now!"

Everyone else roared with laughter. "Yeah! At least I have the decency to mute myself!"

"Hey, wait a sec, why are you online, Y/N!" Denki noted, "You should have already left!"

You screenshot your messages to the group chat because it was far easier than just explaining the ordeal.

"Cute shoes." Eijiro and Kyoka commented at the same time.

There was a lull as their game ended and the messages were read.

"Ya don't need 'em if they're gonna have their head so far up their ass like this."

"I agree." Hanta chimed in. "They're not worth your time."

"Still, sorry they turned out to be a shit." You could hear the frown on Kyoka's face, "I know how excited you were."

"Right, you doin' okay, Y/N? I can stick around and we can all shoot some things!"

"Thanks, Kiri but I'll be just fine! Go spend time with your girl!"

One by one, everyone signed off. You pulled up Spotify and Stardew Valley, something of a comfort for you to get lost in for the rest of the night.

Less than an hour later, you noticed your phone lighting up with your best friend's familiar smiling face. "What's up, Denki?"

"Open your door! I have my hands full and don't wanna put everything down to get my key!"

You sprang from your desk and rushed to your door. Sure enough, on the other side was Denki with bags in both hands and his phone tucked between his ear and shoulder. You grabbed it and a bag before he had a chance to drop anything like the klutz he was. "What's with all this?"

"I feel bad."

"Why? You didn't stand me up?"

He fiddled with the edge of a paper bag. "Yeah, but, we both read those messages and no one said anything but they didn't just call our group out, they called us out.

"Denks, it doesn't matter to me-"

"But, it does to me! You were so excited about this and I got in the way, unknowingly but, still! So, I gotta make it up to you now!"

He pulled out take-out boxes from your favorite restaurant. Two bottles of your favorite wine. Your top three favorite movies and video games, and a board game you both had been meaning to try. "I mean, if they think I'm your boyfriend I kinda gotta live up to the hype, right?"

You really wanted to insist that none of this was necessary. That just because some person that neither of you really knew that well, assumed something about your relationship that didn't mean he had to blame himself for it.

But, you had to admit, this was really sweet. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to you that he knew everything you liked but it was nice. Instead of sitting across from a stranger, making awkward small talk, and trying to learn about one another, you were barefoot in your kitchen, laughing with your best friend while he plated dinner and you poured the wine.

Formalities were out the window. Both you and Denki were eating dinner in your living room, laughing and drinking just as you'd done a million times before. You snapped a photo of the delicious food on paper plates, toasting good times with your cheap wine, ready to post them to your Instagram.

"Gonna make them more jealous..."

"I think they made it pretty clear they don't want to see me so why should I care?"

He shrugged. "I just thought they might, you know, come to their senses that they obviously lost."

"I don't really care either way." You wandered back into your kitchen, putting away the leftovers, "They can forget I exist or they can stalk my page like a creep. If someones' gonna try and tell me I can't be friends with my friends or just not listen to me, then I don't want them in my life. No matter how good-looking they are."

Denki watched you from the sofa, a bit of a lopsided grin on his face that had butterflies taking flight in your stomach. "What?" Laughing to hide the bit of a crush you always had on the man. It was unavoidable you told yourself. His personality was infectious and had 15 year old you head over heels.

He pushed back bright blonde hair back off his forehead and just shook his head. "Nothin'. Uh, what's next? Video game, board game, or movie?"

You peaked on the counter at the options. "Well, we probably should have checked this but the board game needs at least four people to play... guess we'll have to save that for our next game night. Is a movie okay?"

Of course, it was.

You brought over the DVD with a refill of wine and he pulled a blanket down off the back of your sofa.

It really didn't take long, just fifteen minutes or so, and you were curled up into Denki's side. You'd make grabby hands for your wine glass and he'd pass it over with that damn grin again.

And not long after that, he'd pulled out his phone, angling it to take a picture of the two of you. "What are you doing?" You could see him on his own Instagram, tagging you, with the caption, Check out my cute cuddle bug.

"I thought you didn't want to make them more jealous."

"I decided I don't care either. You're mine tonight, their loss. And since you're mine tonight, I get bragging rights." He snapped another quick picture of you rolling your eyes at him, and then he kept snapping them.

"Denki! Why!"

"Because you're cute, cuddle bug! I like having all the pictures of you that I can!"

Even as you tackled him back down on the sofa, pinning him below you, he still managed a photo. "Bet if I post this one, they'll really get the wrong idea."

You could have moved. You were the one on top of him and you had his arms above his head. You had the power here and yet you just lingered above him.

"Y/N? Not that I'm one to complain about having a beautiful person such as yourself pinning me down, like, it's kinda hot, but..." Looking down into half-lidded golden eyes, you wondered why you had to become best friends with such a damn flirt! "Are you gonna take advantage of this situation we're in or are we just gonna keep dancing around this for another decade or so?"

You couldn't have heard him right? No... no this was your brain playing tricks on you because he certainly hadn't had that much wine tonight. You sat upright on his lap. "Another decade then, Y/N?"

"You- ha- you should stop that, Denki."

He leaned up, moving his arms around you, "Gimme a good reason to and I will."

You didn't have one. And not just because you've been in love with him for ten years but also because he was your best friend. The only reason to not go through with it was the possibility of losing your friendship if something bad were to happen but, you really didn't think anything would.

Denki might have been a serial flirt but he was surprisingly loyal in all the relationships he'd been in, not that there had been all that many serious ones.

"I'm not hearing anything." He teased, his face getting closer to yours. You could count each and every one of the faint freckles that littered the balls of his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. "But, I promise, if you tell me no, I'll stop, won't push this any further."

This whole thing seemed like a frickin' whirlwind, happening faster than your brain could really process the situation but you didn't want it to stop either. You wanted to take it further, didn't want to say no.

Which was why you coiled your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. There was that small little buzz of electricity that tickled your lips when he'd kiss your nose or cheeks that was now playing on his lips, on his tongue when you welcomed him in.

He leaned back again, pulling you with him until you were both a pile of needy hands and breathy pleas. Everywhere his hands roamed you felt that faint trail of shock against your skin, making the little hairs on your body stand on end.

Clothes were shed, tossed haphazardly around your living room, both of you pausing to laugh when Denki managed to land your hoodie over a lamp. His attention was drawn back to you quickly though, still perched on top of him but now he had your chest on full display since you'd forgone a bra when your date canceled.

Electrifying tongue twirled around your nipples, sensitive normally, now it felt like you knew what it was like when he fried his damn brain. He was eager, relentless even, pulling and sucking, another hand giving your other breast a similar treatment. He had you so focused that you let out a broken moan when slender fingers found their way into your panties.

"Fuckin' hell, Denki."

The bastard winked up at you, nipple still between his lips and before you could retort, he sent another small jolt through you.

You were blatantly grinding down on his hand, reaching behind you, you found him completely solid, barely being contained in the tight black boxers he wore. You had enough sense to tug them down and wrap your hand around him making his teeth sink into your soft flesh, whining when you stroked him.

"Y/N..." He whimpered, his hand momentarily distracted from his ministrations gave you enough time to shift in his lap to scoot forward putting his cock in front of you. In one swift motion, you had his length between your slick. "Oh fuck, cutie!" Golden eyes were squeezed shut while you moved along him, feeling that pleasant curve he had, you could only imagine what it was gonna be like to have him inside you.

"You're being a little tease, ma-makes me wanna do all sorts of things to y-you."

He was kissing your neck, your chest, shoulders, and arms, anywhere on you that he could reach. His hips bucking up into you, just trying to hit that perfect angle.

Strength and agility were something most overlooked when it came to Denki Kaminari but when the man wanted something bad enough, he found a way to get it.

He had your ass rising up in the air with a harsh thrust of his hips and a small squeak from you, giving him exactly enough time to scoot down on the sofa so you were sat atop his face. If you complained, he didn't hear you. Denki already had your thighs around his head and his tongue devouring you completely.

Little shockwaves rocked you while you cried out his name, hands fisting blonde locks just trying to stay upright.

One orgasm from you apparently wasn't enough, neither was two but on the third, Denki finally relented, allowing your heartrate to come back down and your gasping breaths to come in more steadily.

You slid back down his body, his erection now smack against your ass. His hair was recked, face completely flush but he had the biggest grin on his face that you'd ever seen.

Denki kissed both your cheeks, "You are so amazing, cutie!" Kissed your lips, "You taste better than anything I've ever had!" And one more on the tip of your nose. "Doin' okay?"

You nodded, starting to really gather yourself again, and by this point, you really just wanted one thing.

"I wanna... Denks... can I take care of you now?"

"Sure, cutie! How do you want me?" The wiggling eyebrows had you rolling your eyes and pushing him on his back again.

It took little effort for you to position yourself above his cock, and with how slick you were, his bright pink head slipped right inside. He held your hands while you scrunched up your face, sliding all the way down him until he was completely sheathed within.

The curve was immaculate. Hitting in just the right way that had you moaning with just a couple thrusts from him. Before long, you were eagerly bouncing on his cock. Riding him hard so he filled you up each and every time.

You barely registered him reaching for the coffee table, his phone now in his hands. "What're you doin'?" You practically slurred, slowing only slightly. He tapped the camera lens with a wicked grin. "Seriously?"

"We could make 'em really jealous now..."

Somewhere in your brain, you knew your date wouldn't give two shits, in fact, this probably would have only validated their thoughts about your's and Denki's relationship but with his cock stuffed so deeply into you, kissing your cervix in the most beautiful way, you really didn't give a damn.

You and Denki put on the best possible show you could think of. You were overstimulated, sore, and completely elated! He balanced the phone against the wine bottle so neither of you had to try to hold it.

This way he could play with your breasts or squeeze your thighs while you dug half-moons into his chest. Shocked with the playful zaps he sent right to your core.

Your makeup you'd didn't feel like taking off now ran down your cheeks with tears. Your hair was a mess thanks to him pulling at it.

Denki had you howling through another two orgasms, telling you how perfect you were, how nice you felt squeezing him so tightly, your nails felt so good against his skin.

It was only when you collapsed against his chest did he hoist your hips up so he could ram into you, pulling out just at the last second with a strangled cry of your name.

He wiggled himself free, grabbing a towel from your bathroom and cleaning you both up before stopping the recording.

"You're, hey you're gonna send that to me right?" You asked when he handed back your hoodie off the lamp.

He dropped a kiss on your lips, plopping down beside you on the sofa again and you noticed your email already up and the video uploading. "Obviously, we share all our videos and photos. Why would this be different?"

#mha #bnha #mha smut #denki kaminari #kaminari #kaminari smut #denki kaminari smut #mha fluff #denki fluff #denki smut #denki x you #mha x reader #kaminari x reader #denki x reader

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prettyboykatsuki · 4 years ago

Text

am i warm enough for you?

➳ tags ;; soulmate au, strangers to lovers, fluff and angst but mostly fluff, some-what canon compliant, bakugo katsuki is bad at feelings, lots of Feelings™, you guys are adults but the end of the fic but the fic is sfw, alcohol, drunk confessions

➳ wc ;; 5.6k..

➳ plot summary ;; you see your soulmate in dreams - sometimes in bits and pieces and other times in full. bakugo is less than inclined to admit he even has a soulmate - and you learn how to cope with it, one day at a time.

bakugo learns that this soulmate shit is no joke. that has to be why he keeps falling for you so helplessly.

➳ a/n ;; i wasn’t even gonna comeback this early but it felt so wrong not to post on my bfs birthday so alas </3 for anyone who cares to know this is @elysianseraph but with my new url. nice to see u all <3

this was originally posted on 4/20 but im reposting cause it didn’t show up in the tags dskjds

It’s hazy.

A cloud of smoke settles over your body, permeating your lung. It smells like sugar, like burning, like smoke and a little like leather. You can feel your toes curl and your hands moving but your body is separate from you in a way you can’t describe. It’s a pleasant kind of warmth that spreads, creeping up from behind your neck till it’s soft and cradling your skull. It’s soft like the touch of a mother, like wool over your ears.

It’s a pleasant feeling, that’s all. Almost cozy but there’s a fading sense of distress that chills in your lungs as you encompass it. Your hands are too small to reach forward, and truthfully the sensation is so powerful that you’re afraid to reach out. You’re 6 years old, so all you know is how it makes you feel. You can’t remember many details, but you feel pleasant. Something about it is soft, but there’s a sharp edge right at the end that has your lungs gasping for air.

It’s a flash of colors. Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red. Orange. Red.

And then it fades into a feeling again. A blurry feeling. You feel conflict, then concern, then inadequacy in heavy waves almost like it’s drowning you. It’s the first time you’ve experienced such a pain, so your wailing and wiping tears away with chubby fingers and saying a name you don’t know and can’t remember.

Ka. You know the sound, Ka. But you don’t know of anything more. It repeats rhythmically in your mind like a knock on the door, rapping with urgency - but it doesn’t do anything to jog your memory. Someone is trying to be let in but you don’t know how to answer them, and you’re still crying. The distress, the inadequacy shakes you and all you feel is frustration in short simple bursts.

Your first encounter with your soulmate is written this way in your memory. A sense of urgency laced with frustration - but they’re not towards you. It’s him, his feelings - you can feel them even deeper then he can. They pierce you in a way that makes it hard to breathe, no matter how you try to escape them it’s an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. The only way to escape the feelings of a dream is either to control them, or to face them and swim through the fog.

Soulmates have an urgency to them, in general. His is different, you can tell as much. Your first soulmate dream leaves the heaviest impression and each one thereafter is like pieces of a puzzle.

Sometimes you simply share random dreams, like a split screen in a video game - the two of you witness different parts of the same dreamverse. Other times, and honestly - most times, you’re experiencing their emotions or feelings. You experience their core memories, their life, in flashes and bits and pieces.

It’s not enough to know them or who they are, it’s like know everything about them except the things that matter

Sometimes you meet too. Just barely.

MEETING 1:

The room is white. When you blink, colors flash in order - red, pale yellow, orange, forest green and you know. You blink a few more times, stretching your hands out in front of yourself. Curling your hands into fist then into stretched palms, you lean forward and stretch. You wriggle your toes - notice you're wearing shoes. Clothes from your closet. Strange.

You take a look around the room but there isn't much to see. There’s a wall in front of you with a glass divider and a mirrored empty room. The room across from yours has spiky decor littered against the walls. An orange dresser, plastic grenades and play guns. You know who it is without a second warning - and a foggy part in the back of your head tells you that it’s him, again but with more force. You don’t see anything in your room, but you figure he might. All of it is confusing to you.

Before you can blink, there’s a loud thud coming from the other side of the glass. It’s a silhouette, the outline of a face - but nothing clear. Dream logic dictates you can’t know a face you’ve never seen, yet somehow you know his outline. Spiky, he’s spiky everywhere.

“Hello?,” you call out, overly tentative. The figure pauses, seems to take in whatever they must be seeing. You’re not sure what response you’re expecting, really. There’s no expectations at all.

“...Who the fuck are you?,” says a pitchy, male voice. He sounds like he’s your same age, a highschool boy. His throat is rough, yet not overly deep. It’s almost scratchy.

“Uhm,”

You’re not sure how to reply. You can see him through the glass, but not really. Still, you take note of his shadows like they’re going to tell you anything more. You shove your hands in your pockets, messing around with something inside.

“Uh.. your soulmate, I think,” you reply.

Scratching the back of your neck as an awkward silence settles, you take a few minutes to try and figure what more to say.

“We met when we were kids once too,” you explain awkwardly. He must know, has too - this soulmate thing is a two way thing, but his silence is deafening. You just want to feel this space. Is it always this awkward?

“Red. Orange. Pale Yellow. Forest Green,” you repeat, like a mantra. You hear him take in a sharp breath, and freeze. For some reason, you’d like to avoid upsetting him. He doesn’t seem like he’s taking to the information too well.

“I don’t have time for this damn bullshit… whatever quirk you’ve got to mimic this - cut it the fuck out,”

Hostile.

You pause, not sure how to feel. Half of you is offended, the other half is confused - had you done something to upset him? You can feel how he feels - but you don’t understand it. You sit with your mouth agape, like a fish out of water. Unsure of how to proceed, you scoff a little.

“Woah.. this isn’t a quirk thing. We’re.. soulmates? That’s already a thing,”

More silence. You’ve.. he doesn’t seem upset, but you can tell he’s not all that keen to the idea. It’s a bare minimum improvement that you find yourself valuing, without your consent. He breathes again, throat even more hoarse than before. His voice is angry but it doesn’t fit his responses, his feelings - so you don’t pay attention to his madness. Something is off.

“... I’m not supposed to have a soulmate. No fucking way I have a soulmate,” he grits. You step back, stumbling. You didn’t have any expectations.. but this wasn’t what you had been expecting at all. You feel uneasy, sick. It must be a shared feeling if the way he leans against a wall counts for anything.

A beat of silence passes before you open your mouth to speak.

“... I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to that,” you admit. He scoffs.

“Nothing you damn extra. Leave me the fuck alone,”

You don’t reply, too stunned. This was your soulmate? This.. asshole? Not that you were a peach entirely either, but this was supposedly the person that the universe had decided for you?

You shake your head. Maybe you’re just being rash? He could be a nice guy behind all the chaos. You try your best to hold onto that, that this was literally someone chosen for you before you gave up all hope. You sigh, cracking your neck.

“You can say whatever you want but.. we’re here, you know? It’s more productive to just go with it.. isn’t it?,”

“Go fuck yourself,”

“After meeting you, I’m not exactly over the fucking moon about it either. It is what is,”

“You’re not my fucking.. soulmate or whatever the fuck. Leave me alone,”

Your heart both aches with anger and sadness. You don’t know what to do. What does this shit-head know about you, anyway? You know he’s been through some shit, same as you - what makes him so entitled? You swallow the lump in your throat. It hurts. It pierces. Stupid soulmate bonds.

“Yeah? Alright. Fuck you too,”

You see him pace around for a longer before he disappears in a cloud of smoke. You didn’t even catch his name, and you’re not sure you wanted too. It must be morning, but at least you're away from him. It feels lonely, but it must just be you.

Your eyes flutter open but your heart is heavy with regret. You don’t know who it belongs to, but you’ve got class in an hour and not enough time to think about it. If he doesn’t want to meet you that’s fine.

It’s fine. Not like you wanted to meet your soulmate anyway.

You don’t have another meeting with your soulmate for months. Lately your dreams have little if anything to do with him or where he is, how he’s been. You have some of those split screen ones, where you know he’s there but neither of you acknowledge each other, even in spirit, like how you did before. When you wake up feeling angsty, you don’t know how to distinguish the feeling but you don’t try.

You wonder idly if he can feel your apathy, if he cares enough too. Maybe he also mistakes it for his own? It seems likely.

It’s a weekday where you’re getting ready for remedial classes at your school. First year advanced courses were no joke, and you find yourself regretting your choice to participate in them.

Still you get dressed anyway, put your uniform on and brush your teeth - wash your face with your eyes half open and look presentable. No one's home in the morning, the house is empty of any life but you. Food becomes a last minute priority, so you make an egg sandwich with cheese and eat it on the way to the train station.

You stare down at your feet as you step outside, music drowning out the noise of your surroundings aptly. The walk to the station is long and the ride is longer, but the streets are packed edge to edge. Musutafu is busy this time of year - the U.A. Sports Festival is taking place today and everything seems to reflect that. You barely manage to squeeze past all the strangers on the subway - clearly on their way to see it.

When you get to school, you're greeted by a mostly empty classroom with a teacher. These classes were straightforward as always, do the work you need to correct, have it approved and leave. It repeats until your finished with all the assignments and you get to be done. You give a respectful nod to your teacher before grabbing your work from your bag.

It goes on and on - occasionally, you hear an excited gasp and quiet chatter from classmates. It’s about the festival, the happenings - but you’re too caught up in completing your work that day and trying to get the fuck out of their as soon as possible.

Shit like that didn’t matter to you, anyways. It’s just a festival.

You leave around the same time the festival seems to have ended, the streets flooded with people - you miss the first station and wander towards an electronics store a block away from your highschool.

It’s the winners on TV. A guy with split hair - Shouto Todoroki, Endeavors son. A guy with a bird head, and a blonde with red eyes - muzzled to the pole.

When you see them, your heart stops. You can feel anger, an unfamiliar rage and humiliation building in your chest. It feels the word has stopped as you watch from afar, through screens. Your soulmate seems upset about something, but you wouldn’t know what.

And that blonde on TV, you wonder if you know him from somewhere.

MEETING 2:

Red.Orange. Pale Yellow. Grey. Black. Forest Green. Red. Red.

You feel him before you even know what’s happening - and it catches you completely off-guard. You haven’t had a proper soulmate dream in two years. Smoke clouds your lungs, the taste of sugar burning your tongue as you cough yourself into awareness. This time, you’re not in a room but it’s a campground. In the middle of the space is a bonfire, burning warmly. This one feels more vivid, more real.

But you know it’s not, your body feel unusually light and your hands can’t hold anything for too long. You know it’s a dream, but you sit in the chair anyway. It feels like you're floating. You feel oddly warm. Dread builds in the pit of your stomach. Even though it’s been so long since you’ve spoken to your soulmate - you can’t forget the terrible first encounter. It sticks to the roof of your mouth - a bitter memory that fills you with unexplainable, irrational resentment.

But it’s not like you hadn’t been seeing him, to an extent. You’ve seen all his memories in bits and pieces - all of them tragic and painful. This time, you see people but they come in the form of small scraps. Spiky Red. Electricity. Tape. Pink with Horns. Music. Green. So much green and red - like Christmas, you’ve called it. You’ve seen disappearances, fear, anguish - so much anguish.

In the weeks after All Might’s fall, you were in so much pain - you couldn’t stop crying for days. It’s been enough time to know what feelings were yours and which were his - and these ones felt so much like him. It went on for nearly a year - you’d almost got accustomed to it. If tears showed up to blot the ink of your lecture notes, you didn’t think twice about it. You tried to keep yourself calm, steady - in hopes you could lend your soothing to him. Even if he hated your guts, you could barely believe so much sadness could exist in one person. You didn’t know what happened but whatever it was - it must’ve been terrible. At the very least, you felt sympathy.

Sympathy was enough to get by for a long time. A neutral, level-headed sympathy that helped soothe some of your own hurt.

All that said, you were hardly expecting to see him again - especially not this soon. You don’t remember the last time you thought about him in anything other than passing - actively. It’s one thing to know what's happening - you’ve felt him passively everyday for damn near two years.

But it’s another thing to see him in front of you, force yourself to acknowledge him as your soulmate even if he insists on not doing the same.

You squirm in your chair, noticing that you’re wearing PJ’s instead of clothes. Just a hoodie and sweats, none of which fit you quite right. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fiddling with the stray strand of thread loose.

“What the fuck is this shit?,”

Your stomach drops. Unsure of what to say, you opt to say nothing at all. Just let him be, sit quietly in your dreams and mind your business. Maybe he’ll wake up soon and it’ll all be over.

You can’t see him from the corner of your vision but you can hear him shuffle. The way he touches things, noticing how they make noise but don’t feel quite right in his hands. How it feels real but doesn’t, how it is real and isn’t. Surely, he’s noticed you by now. The lingering silence makes you squirm.

“...It’s you,”

You flinch, lifting your head up slightly to meet his gaze. His expression is unreadable, but it’s different from before. In a fleeting moment, something occurs to you.

You can see him. What he looks like. Blonde with red eyes, and a sharp chin and thin waist. You know it must mean you’ve seen him before - perhaps you’d even seen each other, but for your life you can’t remember where you’ve seen his face. It’s right there, on the edge of your mind, but you’re stumped.

“Hello?,”

“Oh,” your reply comes short, strained. Your eyes flutter as you press your lips into a flat line. “Uh, hi,”

The blonde sits in the chair, slumping down. His eyes go towards the flickering flames without another word and you decide it’s best not to engage. It stays like that for a while, a beat of silence - not awkward but not comfortable, passing by without another thought. It all feels real, present - not like normal dreams. This must be the special kind of soulmate thing you find yourself feeling resentful towards.

His eyes are heavy. Relief is overwhelming him, with an iron grip and he’s worried you can feel it. If you can, you don’t say a word.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he admits.

The words sound tender passing through his mouth, unmistakably so - but you don’t get your hopes up. Instead, you give him a placating laugh, leaning forward towards the fire and mirroring him.

“I didn’t think so either,”

When it falls silent, it feels comfortable. It’s not like either of you have anything to say to each other right now, with no manual on how this was supposed to go. If he even wanted to go there.

“I can.. see you,” you start. He squints.

“You couldn’t before?,”

This takes you by surprise. You shake your head.

“No..Could you? See me, I mean?,”

Bakugo feels heat rise to his skin. Oh. Huh.

“Yeah,” he replies, a sharp inhale leaving his lungs “I can see you,”

There’s something tense in the air. It’s a strange sensation - to know the deepest and most intimate parts of someone without even knowing their name proper, or where they went to school, or what they normally eat for breakfast. All that connects you are these mutual feelings, shared grief that holds you two to the title of soulmates. This odd bond.

“..d’ya still think I’m a quirk wielding villain?,” you laugh, or try too - you’re doing your best to cut the tension. He can feel your hurt all the way from your sit, so deep in his gut - it’s been haunting him for years. How many nights of sleep he’s lost knowing there are soft and helpless tears coming from these suppressed feelings. He doesn’t know how to say sorry, so he sighs and rubs the back of his neck. He’s changed a lot in two years - but not enough to be good at this.

“No, I don’t,”

“Oh,”

He smiles, just a little. It’s gentle, casts shadow on his face from the light of the fire. It’s warm, everything feels warm and better and invigorating. When you look at him and his uneasy expression - you know he feels it too.

“By the way, uhm - what’s your name? Ka.. something? Right?,”

His eyes shoot up in surprise. He nods a little.

“Katsuki Bakugo,” he replies, expectantly. You seem surprised that he wants to know yours.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” comes your reply.

“Nice to meet you,” says him, Bakugo - your soulmate.

“Nice to meet you too,”

Getting to know Bakugo is unusually easy. You get the feeling it wouldn’t be, in the case that you were anything but soulmates - but Bakugo has never known being this intimate with someone other than you. Despite himself, how much he hates himself - you never seem too. Even though you feel and see all the ugliest parts of him - have since he was small enough to still be innocent, you always treat him the same.

Your conversations are short, and shallow. Regardless, he’s not used to talking so much about himself. But you’re always curious, so much so Bakugo doesn’t have the heart to see your countless questions go unanswered.

You keep a little notebook of all of your encounters. You remember them by heart but write them down too, just in case you miss something. You ask about his friends - Spiky Red and Soft Green, referring to them that way even after you’ve known their names. You ask about his work - the life of a dangerous hero, and if he ever gets nervous flying through the air.

Admittedly, he’s mean to you. He teases you so frequently, he’s lost count of all the times you’ve huffed and puffed at his sarcastic remarks. Still, you never turn away from him. You stand with your foot down and your arms crossed over your chest - insistent on making him feel flustered too. And it works, somehow - because you know all too much about Bakugou and always gets him right where he’s most conscious about. You don’t have to tease him about his feelings since you know them like the palms of your hand.

But these shallow conversations always mean a little more to him that he knows how to verbalize, and half the time he doesn’t need to do that at all. You’ve learned the masterful of working around him quietly, making all the parts of that feel too big to love - something small and fragile. Somehow, you’ve made being with him, even as friends - feel like less of an impossible feat but a dream.

Katsuki Bakugo has been in love with you since he was 6 years old. There must be some feelings we cannot share with our soulmates, because he has no idea if you feel it or not. He just knows he does, somewhere deep in the cavern of his heart, he loves you.

You never cross the barrier of romance with him, though. A paralyzing fear seems to settle in your bones when you breach too close to love and intimacy - and Bakugo understands those feelings, even if he doesn’t know exactly why they’re there. It’s not something you’ve decided to tell him yet, but he feels it in the same way he feels your loneliness. You may be kind but you’re more guarded than he is, and not fearless but reckless.

But he still finds himself aching to love and be loved by you, no matter how much he hates it. The yearning still manages to swallow him, even late into the night.

MEETING 3:

It’s been a while since your last meeting with Bakugo but not long. You were 21 now, but your dream visits were frequent. When you weren't speaking or seeing him through dreams - you were watching him on TV. You’d been yet to meet with him in real life but to you, that was okay. Seeing him like this had been more than enough.

Today was different. Normally, that bonfire was always a back-drop to these little encounters but it was a field today - a filed with rolling hills and hundreds of flowers and tall grass that made you feel itchy. The sun was permanently stuck right before it set but it was so warm everywhere. When you get there, there’s a blanket on the top of one of the hills. You sit on it cautiously and watch the wind pass. Everything is tinged orange, and red - you know he’s there with you before he appears.

When he does, he seems different. You glance over at him as he stumbles towards you in a stupor, and when he does finally sit - you get a whiff of alcohol coming from his neck and mouth. It’s strong enough to make a little dizzy. Blinking owlishly, he sits crisscross besides you, staring a little at the surroundings.

“..the fuck?,” he slurs. You can’t help but break out into a laugh. He nearly falls over, body swaying so you bring his head down to your shoulder wordlessly, a furious heat running all over your skin. Even though you can’t feel him, the gesture makes you feel something in your belly.

“Why’re you so drunk?,”

“Birthday,” he mumbles. Your eyes widen in surprise. Bakugo is seemingly unfazed, eyes drooping with tiredness. He’s completely inebriated.

You feel yourself grow tender. You’d have to wake up and remember the days date. Despite all the times you’ve met, you had no clue about his birthday or how he celebrated. You feel your heart ache at the idea you’ve spent the latter half of it together, in your own way.

“Happy Birthday, Bakugo.”

“Bakugo this, Bakugo that,” he growls, a little incoherent “We’re supposed to be fucking soulmates and you still call me by that.. damn name.”

He hiccups a little as you sit there stunned. You blink.

“.. You think of us as soulmates?,”

“Are you some kind of moron?,”

You scowl, flicking his forehead with your thumb and forefinger. He makes a noise of indignance.

“Well, how would I know? When we first met, you didn’t seem enthused about it,”

Bakugo sighs tiredly.

“I was 15 and an asshole - clearly I don’t fuckin’ feel that anymore,”

You seem surprised again.

“..You don’t?,”

Instead of swearing at you, he closes his eyes and gets closer to you. The liquor runs through his system like liquid courage and he nods a little.

“Not at all,”

“What do you..”

“What do you think I mean?,” he barks a laugh. You feel your pulse under your skin, drumming against your chest like a hammer. You can’t even breathe.

You’ve had feelings for Bakugo from the second proper meeting you’d had with him. It was clear as a day that he was your soulmate for good reason, that inexplicable draw that kept your heart from ever belonging to anyone else. You tried to - tried to go on dates and see other opportunities through but he was always so one of a kind.

Yet, you’d given up all hope that it would mean anything to harbor these feelings, convinced that Bakugo simply wasn’t interested in you In doing any of this. You didn’t want to force him into something he didn’t want - so you kept your distance with hope that he’d still be in your life. It was enough, or you’d wanted it to be.

It’d be a lie to say that you hadn’t started thinking about it more and more as the days pass. What it would be like to see him, touch him and love him and be with him for real - these passive daydreams gone vivid. If he could see your dreams, he must know about them. But you didn’t know how to approach it - how to approach love at all.

That’s the thing with soulmates. You’re told that you’ll just have the answers, destiny will do the hard work but that’s far from true. Because even now, with Bakugo leaning on your shoulder with this confession lingering in the air - you don’t know what to do.

“Stop being so nervous,” he mumbles. You stumble a little over yourself.

“Sorry,”

He chuckles.

“You really need me to say it, huh?,” he sighs. He picks himself. If he’s drunk and reckless, then fuck it - he’s gonna take it all the way. He drops his head onto your lap with a tired sigh.

“I think you’re my soulmate, you fuckin�� idiot,” he admits.

And it’s hard to say, because feelings don’t come easy for Bakugo Katsuki - but it’s the least he can do. All Bakugo Katsuki has ever known is to be lonely. It’s a loneliness that he’d forced on himself. Bottling up all the anger and sadness and swallowing it. It’s long since sunk it’s claws into him. That overwhelming, all consuming ugly feeling that lingers underneath that superiority complex.

That no one would ever, could ever love the ugliness that lingers in him. That no one who knew him for what he truly is, could care for him. Deku was the first of many disbeliefs and not much had changed.

Except for when it did. Except for when he met you - in a dream, and you were real and beautiful even at 15. That the universe hadn’t been playing some sick joke on him when he kept seeing you in his dreams, so soothing to his teenage loneliness. You were real and that was so fucking scary.

But you loved him anyway. Looked out for him when he was at his lowest - the soothing beat of your heart in the days after All Mights end . When he cried himself into sleep and dreamed of you. God, how he dreamed of you. Not especially romantic dreams, but dreams of how you made breakfast. How you watched cartoons on Sunday and read manga in your classes instead of the assigned work. How you fell asleep on the train station and always ate icecream after big tests. How you were especially mundane and how he got to be apart of that everyday routine.

After all, you see dreams of each other, but Bakugo has no clue what your dreams of him look like. His have always looked like you though.

When he was worthless and empty and unable to give you anything meaningful, to apologize or put his pride away - you had loved him anyway. Felt for him with clumsy hands and held on, not letting go. Even when he was begging for you to leave him alone, in fear of this all being nothing more than a cruel dream - you held on tightly to him. With your silly notebook questions and dumb names.

Bakugo Katsuki has never known what it means to love someone who isn’t you. Even if you found someone else and there was someone better than you for him, he would grit his teeth and bear it. He wonders if he’ll ever believe he deserves you. He wants to believe you’re his soulmate - to believe you wont ever leave. To believe that he did something right enough that the universe could give him someone like you.

And he wishes he could say all this, but he can’t - he just closes his eyes and hopes you can feel it.

“You’re so mean,”

“Isn’t that why you like me?,” he grins.

And you can feel his sincerity. He should feels yours too.

“I love you, actually,”

He gasps, a sharp breath that stabs his lungs. He feels sober from the confession.

His voice is gravelly when he speaks.

“Yeah, shit - me too,”

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest. The address is correct, it has to be with the way this place looks. Only a hero could live here, with the floors that lead up to skies. He lives on 3rd floor, so you swallow your fear. You give yourself a thumbs up in the glass window pane of the building before entering through the doors.

When you get there, a box sits. You press the button next to his place, bouncing on the balls of your feet until you answer.

“Hello?,”

His voice feels different in real life. You cough.

“Uh, hi,” you greet awkwardly “I’m here,”

“Oh,” he says. You hear something buzz and then him again. “Come on up,”

And you do. The elevator ride feels like it stretches mild, classic piano echoing against the empty walls. You feel yourself feel sick but you’re not sure it’s from the movement. All you can do is fidget and wait.

When the doors open, you peak your head out into the hallway. He’s the first one on the left, just as promised. You can see a welcome mat - forest green, and something in you knows that it’s the right one.

You step up and knock, three times precisely. Your heart is all the way in your ears and everything in you is filled with unease and excitement.

When the door swings open, the world stops. You gape like a fish out of water in disbelief. He’s tall and big like he promised he’d be, but you’re unprepared. His chin is scruffy, eyes full of sleep. Strong chest and arms that seem to crowd your vision, you don’t know what do.

His expression is full to the brim with feelings you’ve never seen. He steps aside with his head ducked down.

“Come in,”

“Ah.. right,”

You take your shoes off and place them in the slippers meant for you - they fit you just right, and it can’t be a coincidence. Your heart swells up a little as you take your coat off, hanging it on the rack. You can feel his eyes as they linger on your silhouette.

“So -,”

Before you can get a word out, you feel strong arms wrapped around your waist. His scruff brushes against the skin of your neck as he holds you tightly too him. The warmth of his breath lingers on your neck - and he hiccups, a sob stored in his rib cages let out with a howl. The tears blur your vision too. You can feel his drip onto your shoulder as you snivel into his neck. Your legs feel weak, but he holds you up at the door - the only thing keeping you standing.

You cling around him tightly, your nails digging into the meat of his shoulders. It’s him, your soulmate, Katsuki Bakugo. He’s real and holding you - and he smells like leather and sugar and a fireplace. He’s warm and strong and overwhelming and your crying into his shoulder with so much feeling you don’t know what to do. You hit him weakly, unsure of what do with yourself and he laughs.

“Damn you, shitty woman - makin’ me fucking cry,” but his voice is strained. It’s like something connected, how you feel each other so intimately in that moment. Not only because you’re soulmates, but because you love each other so deeply. Your heart feels heavy.

When you pull away, you manage to give him a warbly smile.

Your hands cradle his face - so handsome and wonderful. You lean forward, emboldened, and peck him. He melts into your touch like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life. It makes you grin.

Maybe you don’t realize that he had.

He’d been waiting for you all this time.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha imagines #bakugou imagine #bakugou imagines #PLEASE SHOW UP IM BEGGING

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