#so id have to keep jumping off and dragging it around every 2 minutes

[itshomobirb]

the longer i stand the stupider i get.

anyway, pray that my edibles turn out alright. the hemp got waterlogged during the decarb, so i put in the oil and was like "oh ok ill stick it on a double broiler and heat the water until it evaporates!" and then i googled how to separate the water from the oil (coconut), and it was like "put it in the fridge, they'll separate, the oil will solidify, boom just pour out the water."

and i went "ok!" and stopped the double broiler, strained out the solid hemp matter, using several different jars and many utensils and approximately 10 coffee filters and spilling oil several times. dumped the hemp in the trash. did the dishes and started the dishwasher while the oil drained into the cup.

and then i was like "oh fuck i forgot to properly infuse the oil," so i dumped the oil back into the double boiler and let it boil for a few minutes. googled again. yeah a double boiler would infuse, but it'd take several hours (<- spoiled by "mason jar in the pressure cooker takes a lot less time").

ohfuck.jpeg. i already dumped the hemp. litcherally what am i infusing in the double boiler. it's just heating oil. ok. strain it again, put it in a container, put it in the fridge, and now im hoping there was enough time for it to infuse when i first put in the oil.

and during this entire time i was standing in my kitchen. losing braincells by the minute. trying to figure it out before the fog of war (brain fog) completely surrounded me.

[the-ourple-ouppy]

NEW AU ALERT!!

Here me out here. DSAF and South Park. Smush them together.

(DISCLAIMER: This AU will probably end up having Kyman in it. Sorry not sorry!!)

A Freddy's location opens in South Park, and after the usual missing children's incident happens there, Kyle insists they have to go check it out. The rest of the main 4 aren't really that enthusiastic about it, but Kyle basically drags them there.

Unlike the rest of the dumbasses in South Park, the main four aren't fucking blind and see Jack dragging the bodies out to the dumpster. Aside from freaking out about a literal MURDERER in their town, they also question why the fuck this guy is fucking orange and looks like a walking corpse like what. After collectively losing their shit for a few minutes, Cartman decides to follow Jack back to the saferoom, and the rest of the main 4 go after Cartman.

Of course, they get fucking caught. They walk in on Dave and Jack kissing talking about their plan, and Cartman says, "Holy shit dude!" which is why they get caught. Dave and Jack try to kill the main 4 because no witnesses and all that, and they're about to kill Stan when Kenny jumps in front of him and gets killed.

"Oh my god, they killed Kenny!"

"You bastards!"

The main four run out of the saferoom, freaking the fuck out.

The next day, on their way to work, Dave and Jack see the main 4 by the bus stop, and when they see Kenny there with them they're like, "What the fuck? Didn't we kill that kid?"

They go up to the main 4, confused as all hell, asking about how the fuck Kenny was still alive.

"Oh, he's immortal." Cartman says casually. Kyle and Stan are surprised, along with Dave and Jack. Cartman then asks about what the fuck is up with Dave and Jack and why their orange and purple and stuff, and Dave and Jack kinda explain their whole situation.

Idrk what to do after that but my plan is that the main 4 kinda just hang out with the DSAF crew (basically DSAF 2 + Steven is there for some reason).

Stan would be kinda nervous around Dave and Jack, usually choosing to hang out with Dee or Peter. (Steven, Matt, and Ronaldo all intimidate/scare him.)

Kenny would just try to die in every way possible, and Jack is happy to show him all the dangerous ass shit at Freddy's. The two of them also bond over being both orange and immortal. (My HC is that Jack remembers all the times he died/got the Springlocked or Stuffed Endings.)

Cartman keeps trying to one-up Dave and Jack crime-wise. Like, he'll tell them about how he fed a kid his own parents, and Jack or Dave will just go "That's fun! I kill children for a living and have at least 3 fake ID's." Like they are completely unfazed by the shit Cartman's done.

Kyle doesn't trust Dave and Jack for a second. He hangs out with Steven quite a lot (definitely not a found family or anything), and warns Kenny and Cartman against being near Jack and Dave, always berating Cartman about how he shouldn't try to provoke them because he's going to get himself killed. (Also dw yall Kyle will eventually warm up to Jack and Dave but he's Kyle so he'll be all stubborn about it)

Would love to hear yall's thoughts on this AU!!

Also Henry probably wont have a major role in this AU because it's based off the Gnarly and Radical endings :]

[softcallofdutyimagines]

More Then a Woman | Frank Woods x Fem!Reader | Chapter 5

Summary:

I once again expose myself for being into older men, and you and Woods go on your first date

Tags: Slow burn, fluff, age difference

Chpt 1 | Chpt 2 | Chpt 3 | Chpt 4 | Chpt 6 | Warnings: strong language and some age difference, in case you don't like that

“Anyway, can I help you with something?”

Your friendly voice and sweet smile pull him out of his thoughts. Frank looks down at you, and instantly lets his nerves get the better of him. This was a mistake from the beginning.

He looks away, attempting to mask his insecurities with a gruff exterior, “Uh, it’s nothing. Sorry, may-”

“Oh no no, it’s fine, really! I just have to deliver these papers and then I can be right with you”, you smile encouragingly, and then… he decides to stay. More due to the fact that he feels unable to say no to you rather than by his own resolve, however.

He’ll have to watch out for that.

So he waits. There’s exactly one other chair in your office, a squat cube shaped thing sitting on the other side of your desk. Clearly this is something you own and brought in, rather than a piece of furniture that was given to you like that plain old black office chair behind your desk. The chair looks like it was brightly colored once, and smacks of something salvaged from the early 70s and dragged into the modern era. Still, it’s rather comfortable despite the faded, slightly sagging state of it.

Frank traces his fingers up and down the angular arm rest, thinking of you. You know, now that he’s had the chance to look around… There’s actually quite a few things of the past in here. He sees a bulky old camera and even a typewriter tastefully displayed amongst a few other nik naks on your shelves, both of which look like they were rolled out around the time he was just a child.

For a moment, he feels uncomfortable again and far too old to be trying something like this with you. But then, the anxiety is washed away with the musing that perhaps…. You like old things.

He can’t help but huff a laugh at that. A wishful thought on his part, maybe, and yet… not completely untrue.

“What’s so funny?”, your curious voice pulls him out of his thoughts as you suppress a small laugh of your own.

“Huh? Oh, nothing just… That camera’s gotta be older than I am”, he chuckles and points to the black box of a thing just above you. “What are you doing with a piece of junk like that anyway?”, he laughs.

You gasp in mock hurt, “It’s not junk! It works!” Suddenly you seem to grow quite excited, trotting up to retrieve the object in question. Cradling it carefully, you swing around your desk and take a seat on the hardwood, showing off your treasure, “This is a Kodak Cartridge Hawk-Eye from 1926!” You enunciate the date excitedly as though it were a relic from the dinosaur days, meanwhile all Woods can think of is that that was only a mere four years before he was born.

For a few minutes longer, you go on giving a whole info dump on all you know about the little device, wave upon wave of building excitement adding to your voice and before long, Frank finds himself being swept up in it all. No offence, but… he really doesn’t give a single fuck about the camera. But, the way it has you grinning bright as sunshine. The electric spark in your eyes. The way you give his arm a gentle touch to brace him for what you seem to think is a very riveting fact…

He would listen to you talk about that damn thing all day, just to see you like this.

Before he knows it, the lecture is over and he couldn’t be more disappointed. You shake your head, just now realizing you’ve gone off on a tangent once again. “Ugh, sorry…”, you laugh it off and go to put it away, “I just get so excited about my antiques. I love that stuff, you know? Anyway, before I go off again… What was it you wanted to see me for?”

Suddenly, Frank can feel his heart clench tight. He had almost forgotten why he came, and now… he’s wishing you would’ve too.

“Oh? Uh, why… Why did I-? Uh… Yeah, um, so-”

Damn it! He never thought he’d say this, but he’d rather be in a gunfight right now. Anything then this… juvenile, high school shit. You’ve since returned to your spot on the edge of your desk. Despite his highly suspicious stuttering, your expression remains polite and even encouraging as you wait for him to formulate a coherent sentence.

While his mind reels for some sort of excuse, anything to get him out of this situation he’s dug for himself, his nervous gaze lands on the very last thing it needs to right now. Your eyes are glittering in this afternoon light. Do you know that?, he thinks. You’ve locked eyes right back at him, but the situation is anything but awkward. He appreciates the way that you aren’t afraid of him. That you’re willing to show him patience and understanding… Like he’s a fucking human being, instead of some crazy old veteran that you’re just indulging until you can finally get rid of him.

The longer he looks back at you, the more and more he can feel the tension melting out of him. Each muscle in his body slowly but surely unclenches, allowing him to relax at last as he leans back into his seat. He can’t lie to you. You don’t deserve that.

Damn it…

Frank breaks eye contact at last. He flexes his hand gently, working out the nervous energy, as he makes a fist. “I uh… I was just wondering if, maybe… you wanted to get coffee sometime…”

Immediately he braces for… well, he’s not sure what exactly, but rejection for sure. He closes his eyes so he can’t see the disgusted face you must be making, and all the muscles he’d just set at ease jump back into bands of iron across his chest, tensed so tight, he feels like his heart might stop. It’s only been a few seconds, but it feels like years have passed when you finally respond…

“Sure! What time would work for you?”

His eyes snap open as he jerks his head around to look at you, not entirely sure he heard you right. But then… there’s that same, sunny smile and electrified eyes that tell him you mean it.

“I-I uh…”, and just like that, he snaps out of it. Woods sits up straight, fixing a strand of hair that’s strayed from its place, and grinning excitedly himself. He hasn’t felt like this in… years. “W-well what time would work for you? I’m sure as shit not doing anything”, he laughs.

You think for a moment, “Oh! Say, do you go for a run on Saturdays too?”

Pft, not lately. “Yeah! Why?”

You light up, “Great! Tell you what, let's meet up and we can go for a run together then hit that coffee shop we met at last time. Would that be alright? Could be fun!”

As though you even needed to ask, he’s already agreeing. The two of you make some more concrete plans like the wheres and whens specifically before preparing to head your separate ways. You stop him and scribble down your number on a torn sheet of paper. “Just in case”, you smile. “And hey… Loser pays”, you break out into laughter.

“Oh yeah?”, he smiles back, “Don’t think I’ll go fucking easy on you!”, he calls, half way down the hall by now as you wave him off.

When you’ve retreated out of sight, Woods takes a look around. Alone again. Good. He reaches into his pocket and gingerly retrieves the slip of paper. Over and over again he reads and re-reads the chicken scratch handwriting you’ve produced. To him, it’s wonderful.

By the time he gets to his car, he feels like he knows that number better than his own dog tag ID. He slips the precious sheet into his wallet, the first of a few select reminders of you that he’ll keep safe in there.

As the few short days go by, he waits restlessly until he can see you again. And finally… Finally, Saturday morning comes.

5:26 am, and he’s up before his alarm. He doesn’t even need to check the digital clock to see what day it is. He already knows as he jumps out of bed and races to get ready. In no time at all he meets you early at the nearby park you agreed to meet at. You’ve come prepared in your high tops, short shorts, and nylon catsuit. Stylish and modern, but thankfully not as over the top as what the fashion industry would have you in.

It takes every ounce of willpower within him to keep his eyes up.

“Ready?”, you stretch your arms up high, only accentuating your body as you do so.

Frank can feel himself turning red as he status out an affirmative, earning… is that a smirk? from you.

“Alright then, ready… set…”, without warning you bolt off for a head start.

“Hey!”

He wants to be mad, but… He’s just having too much fun, damn it. About half way through, it’s a fair race, and although he’s beating you it’s not by that much. Once he’s proved to himself that he’s still got it, Woods allows himself to fall back, giving you the ego boost you need to stick it out and sprint to the finish, tired as you are.

Frank trots to a stop behind you shortly, only slightly more out of breath then you are. He may have let you win, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t give him hell in the first half.

“Cheater”, you give his shoulder a light punch and a knowing look.

“Me?”, he laughs, ignoring the accusation that he would ever let someone else beat him in a competition, “What do you call that stun at the start?”

You merely laugh, wiping some sweat from your brow as you head towards the door of the coffee shop. The bell chimes as you enter and walk up to the counter together. You place your orders, and Frank pays. You wait in silence for your orders, merely taking the time to completely catch your breath.

Drinks and breakfast in hand, you sit by the large bay windows together. The sun has just peeked over the horizon, filling the room with a golden glow. A halo of light shines around you, catching every perfect curve and angle you have to offer as you grace him with your presence. The food and coffees are nearly forgotten as you both get caught up talking about everything and nothing all at once. Conversation topics turn and change like leaves in the wind, easily transitioning from one to the other as you slowly yet surely get to really know one another.

Frank is on the edge of his seat, waiting eagerly to hear what you have to say next as he talks with you. It’s the most excited he’s been to hear someone else drone on and on in his entire life. By the time you’re both feeling talked out, the sun is well on it’s way to rising and the morning dew has since evaporated.

But, it doesn’t matter. How could he ever feel time was wasted when it was spent with you?

The two of you walk back towards the park, making sure to take it slow so you can get the most out of what little time you have left together.

“And then I said, ‘Looks don't count for shit in the jungle. This is 'Nam baby!’ “

You burst out laughing, “Did you really? And then what happened!”

He grins, “Well, the- Oh, wait, we’re uh, we’re here…”

The two of you stop at the edge of the parking lot. It’s practically empty aside from your lone car only a stone’s throw away. At that, the mirth seeps from you as well as you agree.

“Well… I guess… thanks. I had fun, you know”, Frank turns to face you, hoping more than anything that you enjoyed yourself as well.

“Yeah, me too!”, that familiar little smile that he’s grown so fond of slowly makes its way back. “Maybe… Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Besides,”, you act on a jolt of courage, stretching up on the tips of your toes to press a little kiss to his rough, stubbly cheek, “you have to tell me the rest of your story”

You lick your lip and give it a little nervous bite as you shyly take his hand in yours for comfort.. It feels huge, more like a bear paw than a human hand, compared to yours. “Well… See you later…”, you turn and begin to back away, holding his hand until you can no longer reach, forcing you to let go. You offer him one last smile, but all he can do is stand there, frozen amongst a roar of emotions.

Woods lifts a hand to his cheek, reverently caressing the spot your lips touched. The depth, breadth, and complexity of feeling circling in his mind are far too much for him to ever put into words. But, out of them all, one rings out loud and clear. He’s so, so…

Happy.

[dirtykpopsnaps]

Our Rule - Yang Jeongin

Warning: This fic contains 18+ content. If anyone under 18 is seen interacting with this story, they will be blocked.

Contains: teasing. denial. kind of dom!Jeongin

Requested: yes

Words: 2, 569

———————————————————————

In the crowded hallways, students pass me from both sides. People are hurrying passed trying to get to their next lectures. Thankfully, my last lecture for the day just ended and now I just have homework. Calmly, I shoulder my bookbag and leave the humanities building, heading towards my dorm on campus.

Out on the quad, students are still hurrying passed me. Other students are gathered under trees, talking and enjoying the nice weather. A few students come out of the other buildings surrounding the quad. I make my way passed everyone and over towards Lynch, my dorm. When I reach the door, I pull out my student ID and press it against the sensor. The door clicks open a few seconds later.

Heading up to my room, everything is pretty quiet. Most students are in lectures and the few that aren’t are in their rooms working. I walk through the empty hallways, passing a person here or there. In my back pocket, I feel my phone vibrate and I smirk to myself. ‘Oh, he’s gonna be so mad’ I internally giggle. I check up and down the hall to make sure that one is around. Calmly, I pull my phone out of pocket and check the message that he sent. “Sweetheart...you know you’re not supposed to send me messages like that” the text reads. I giggle lightly and press the phone against my chin, thinking of how to reply.

After a few seconds, I start typing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jeonginnie.” I type out. I put my phone back in my pocket and head to my room, unlocking the door. Once I’m inside, I shut the door, put my books away, and decide to start on my homework. However, before I start, I decide to send one more picture to Jeongin. Making sure that the blinds are closed, I look in the mirror and pull my shirt up. I hold up my phone and make a silly face, getting a good shot of my bra.

I look at the picture and nod my head, sending it to him. As soon as it’s sent, I put my phone on my bed, face down, and begin homework. All of my work takes several hours to complete and it’s teaching dinner time by the time I finally get everything done. I put away all my work and pick up my phone off the bed.

As soon as I see the messages on my phone, I stare at them in shock. Within the last few hours, Jeongin completely blew up my phone. There are 60+ messages, most of them relating to me “being a little tease”. Several of the messages consist of what he’s going to do to punish me. The last message is very clear. “Darling, if you’re not at the dorm before 6:30, I will drive to your campus and you won’t like the consequences if I have to do that” the message reads. I immediately type out a message to him.

“I’ll be over in 20 minutes...daddy.”

For several seconds, I go back and forth about the last part. Finally, I simply hit send and set my phone down again. As soon as my phone is down, I head over to my underwear drawer. I shift through it until I find a fairly new, matching bra and panties set. I change into this underwear, then throw my clothes back on top. I quickly throw on a jacket and some shoes before grabbing materials like my ID card, keys, and wallet. As soon as I have everything, I head out the door and lock it before I leave.

The walk to the dorm is very quiet. Not many people are out on the streets and very few cars pass me on my walk. Just to be safe, though, I pull up my hood. My relationship with Jeongin is still hidden to everyone except those who need to know, such as the members and the head of their company. There are a few rules that were set up, but we’re mostly able to be a normal couple. Well, as normal as possible when your boyfriend has to put on a “disguise” every time you go out, and you can only go to “secret” locations. However, although our relationship isn’t “normal”, I still wouldn’t change anything about it.

Before I even realize it, I’m standing in front of the door of their dorm. I knock three times on the door and stand back, waiting for someone to open it. Inside, I hear a lot of chattering before the door is opened just a fraction and someone sticks their eye out from behind the door. As soon as the person sees that it’s me, the door is pulled open fully and Hyunjin welcomes me inside. “Hey, Y/N! Didn’t realize you’d be coming over tonight,” he says cheerfully.

“Jeonginnie demanded,” I tell him. He gives me a knowing look.

“What did you do?” He chuckles. I shrug lightly, trying to play it off.

“Oh, nothing big,” I hum innocently. He rolls his eyes at me skeptically.

“Oh, I’m so sure.”

I fall into a small conversation with Hyunjin and, a few moments later, Jeongin appears in the doorway of the living room. He looks quite frustrated and narrows his eyes at me. “You. Here. Now,” he says, pointing directly in front of him. Hyunjin looks away, smirking to himself and says ‘goodbye’ before getting up. I stand in front of Jeongin and smile up at him sweetly.

“You wanted something, baby?” I ask innocently. He glares at me and points silently into his room. Humming happily, I bounce down the hall, but feel a hard slap against my ass as I pass by. Gasping in surprise, I look over my shoulder and Jeongin smirks.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself,” he chuckles.

From the living room, I hear Hyunjin add in one last comment. “Just be safe, both of you,” he says. Jeongin nods his head lightly.

“We’re always safe, Jinnie, don’t worry,” he comments smoothly. I make my way into Jeongin’s bedroom and notice Han laying on the bed. He looks up at me, giving me a surprised look. However, before he can ask any questions, Jeongin joins us. He presses his back against my front. “Han, if you could—“ Jeongin starts. Han immediately seems to understand a and jumps off the bed, hurrying out of the room. If my boyfriend wasn’t so pissed off at me right now, I might find is pretty funny.

Slowly, I turn around and look up at Jeongin. My chest is pressed against his and I stare up into his deep, brown eyes. He frowns at me, looking me up and down. “You’ve been a bad girl,” he says plainly.

“Oh, have I? I thought you would like them,” I say nonchalantly. He ticks an eyebrow in frustration at my answer.

“Normally, I would. But, I thought we had a rule about not sending me photos and messages like that while I’m working.” I shrug lightly.

“Hmm, must have forgotten,” I say. He narrows his eyes at me, then nods towards the bed.

Without hesitation, I sit down on the edge of the bed. Jeongin comes up to me and presses our lips together hungrily. “You’ve had me hard all day,” he mutters against my lips. I smirk slightly and hum, dragging my tongue against the seam of his lips. He opens them up and our tongues fight for a little bit before I give in and let him take control. “Now...how should my bad, bad girl be punished?” He asks out loud. At this point, I know that the question is more rhetorical and he doesn’t actually want me to answer. He’s just thinking out loud and going over ideas in his head. I wait patiently for his answer to the question. “Well, I think maybe we should do some denial tonight. That might teach you a lesson...for a little bit, anyway.”

I take a deep breathe through my nose. Just at the suggestion of denial, I know it’s going to be a long night. Denial with Jeongin is always interesting, but he never denies just once. And, if I can’t hold my orgasm, he decides on another punishment to add into the mix. I nod my head lightly, accepting the punishment. For a second, Jeongin’s softer side shows. He smiles softly and rubs his thumb against my cheek. “That’s a good girl,” he mutters softly. However, the softer side doesn’t stay for long. Jeongin’s eyes look me up and down, then he takes a step back. “Take off your clothes,” he says, his voice taking a slightly demanding edge.

Slowly, I begin taking my clothes off, starting with my shirt and then my jeans. Once they off, I look up at him again and he nods at my bra and panties. “Those, too. Everything off.” I nod again and take off my bra and panties, as well. When they’re off, as well, he nods towards the bed. I step back and lay down on the bed. Jeongin steps towards the bed and climbs on top, laying down on his stomach between my legs. “Okay, I’m going to start by eating out. Remember, don’t come,” he reminds me. I nod my head once and he immediately starts kissing along my thighs.

As he gets closer to my cunt, I take in a sharp breath. Finally, he presses a feather light kiss against my clit. I groan softly and twist my fingers into his hair. Quickly, Jeongin’s eyes flit up to mine. “You’re welcome to pull on my hair, but if you try to keep me from pulling away, I’m not going to go easy,” he tells me. I swallow thickly then, without warning, he dives in and begins eating me out. I squeal loudly at the sudden stimulation, squirming a little on the bed as I get used to the feeling again. I pull hard at his hair, my head flopping back against the pillows. “Fuck, Jeongin, that feels so good,” I moan. He hums and the vibrations feeling amazing against my heat.

For a while, that is how things go. I lay back against the bed and Jeongin eats me out, stimulating me as much as possible. At one point, he even brings his fingers into the mix and fingers me. Slowly, the feeling within my stomach begins to grow and I warn him. “J-Jeonginnie, I’m gonna come!” I moan, tugging hard at his hair. As soon as the words leave my lips, he pulls back. I whine softly and take swallow, panting breaths. He smirks at me, resting his face in his hands and watching me intently.

Slowly, my breathing slows and he smiles softly at me. “Again?” He questions. I nod my head slowly, knowing he’s asking if I’ve calmed down enough to start again. Yet again, he begins sucking at my clit and I gasp loudly, pulling at his hair. “F-Fuck, Jeonginnie!” I exclaim. Slowly, he moves away from my clit and I sigh, laying my head back against the pillow. A second later, I gasp loudly again as he probes his tongue into my hole. His wide eyes are strong up at me curiously, watching as he pleasures me. It isn’t long before I’m back on the edge again and I warn him.

As I had suspected, he pulls back again. I whine loudly, tears prickling at my eyes. The feeling of losing my high a second time is absolute agony. At this point, I just want to come. “Please, Jeongin. Please let me come, I won’t do it again,” I whine, looking at him. He raises an eyebrow suspiciously.

“You always say that,” he says plainly. I shake my head vigorously.

“No, no, I promise. I’ll be a good girl,” I say quickly. He watches me for a few seconds.

“Okay. You can come this time, but I get to decide when, and if you come without permission, I’ll punish you again,” he tells me. I nod my head quickly and watch as he gets up.

Jeongin quickly pulls off his clothes, then comes back to the bed. “I’m gonna fuck you, baby,” he says plainly. I hum happily in response. I always love the feeling of his thick cock inside me. Slowly, Jeongin drags his cock through my folds, lathering my wetness on it. When he feels ready, he lines himself at my entrance and catches my eyes, slowly pressing in. I feel the slight burn as he slowly stretches me out and I moan softly. Jeongin takes his time pressing in, stopping every few seconds to make sure that I’m okay.

Once he’s fully sheathed inside of me, he leans forward and captures my lips. This kiss is softer, sweeter than our earlier kiss. It’s almost as if he’s showing his love for me through the kiss, although he’s punishing me. “Okay, baby?” He questions. I nod my head without hesitation and he slowly pulls out, then pushes back in. He groans at the feeling, shutting his eyes in pleasure. I moan as I feel his cock dragging against my walls.

Over bits of time, Jeongin’s speed quickens. Before long, I’m dragging my nails down his back, moaning loudly as he pounds into me. “That feel good, baby?” I nod my head, taking in gasping breaths.

“S-So good, Jeonginnie,” I moan, hugging him to my chest. Suddenly, I feel Jeongin’s hand snaking around my body and he starts rubbing quick circles on my clit. My body lurches up at the stimulation and I moan again, dragging my nails down his back hard. He hisses at the feeling, pounding directly into my g spot. “Is my baby girl getting close?” He pants.

“So close, please let me c-come,” I whine, writhing underneath him.

“Hold it, babygirl. I’m close, too,” he tells me.

“J-Jeongin, I can’t!” I whine, feeling my high coming closer and closer with every pump of his cock.

“You can and you will,” he growls at me.

Just as my body starts to rebel against me, as I can’t seem to hold it anymore, I hear him. “Come for me, baby,” he groans. I immediately fall over the edge and clench around his cock. Jeongin lets out a deep groan, then pulls out quickly and spills his seed over my stomach. Both of us take a moment, catching our breaths. Finally, Jeongin gets up again and cleans himself off, pulling on his boxers. I watch him for a moment, wondering why he’s leaving and he must feel me. He looks up at me and smiles softly. “Don’t worry, I’m just heading to the bathroom to get a washcloth,” he says, smiling goofily. I let out a soft sigh, the feeling of slight sadness dissipating.

Jeongin leaves the room and comes back a few moments later with a washcloth. Softly, he cleans the cum off my stomach, then cleans me up as well. When he’s finished, he throws the washcloth into his dirty laundry. He picks me up and pulls back the covers, letting us both lie underneath. I snuggle close to him, getting as close him as possible. “Jeonginnie?” I ask softly.

“Hmm?” He hums, his voice scratchy with tiredness.

“I love you,” I say. He chuckles lightly, kissing my forehead.

“I love you, too, babygirl.”

[polar534]

Hockey AU: Pizza Date Pt. 2

Hey! Fun fact, I wrote this months ago. Does this mean it predates Dana confirming there is no homophobia on the Isles? Yes it does. Very excited about it. :3

Anyways I won't waste your time any longer. I know both of these are pfairly short but it's been a 2-parter ever since I posted it in my discord I'm a part of. (Shout-outs once more to my friends there. Y'all lovely people and know what you did. >.>)

No TW this time. Just some fluff and explanations.

***

“Luz can you slow down a bit? I’m sure the house isn’t going anywhere.” Amity complained as the human led her forcibly down the street.

Her voice seemed to cut through the chaos in Luz’s mind like a knife. She focused on her hand and gave Amity an apologetic squeeze as she slowed down.

“I’m sorry. Look at me, dragging you around at breakneck speed when you’re still tired and run-down from practice.” Luz smiled sheepishly, falling in line with her girlfriend to walk next to her.

“Well, actually the food helped quite a bit.” Amity admitted truthfully, before turning to face Luz sharply. “But don’t let it get to your head.”

“Too late.” Luz grinned back at her.

They walked in silence for a bit, Luz struggling to process exactly what had happened back at the pizza joint. She knew she shouldn’t feel this way, that nothing her and Amity did was wrong, but it didn’t keep the feeling of fear from creeping in.

Amity seemed to pick up on her discomfort though, as she always did, and pulled her girlfriend to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. For a moment, Luz feared she would want to talk about what just happened, and felt the knot rising to her throat but instead Amity simply asked her to come back to the ice rink with her.

“There’s a couple of shots that I could probably use some advice on. Plus, I was really enjoying just getting to spend some time with you. Home can wait a little longer.”

***

Amity was panting as she skated over to Luz who had half a pizza crust hanging out of her mouth. She grinned as Amity took her helmet off and leaned up against the small railing separating the player box from the rink.

“You are looking amazing out there! The other teams aren’t going to know what hit em!" Luz exclaimed excitedly, barely managing to swallow the crust before jumping up to grasp Amity's hands.

Amity laughed as a blush spread across her face. "Thanks Luz, but for the most part I won't be making any shots in-game. My job is going to mostly be defense. That means body checking anyone who comes near my teammate with the puck." She said with a confident grin.

Luz watched her confidence with a wide smile. She got to watch her girlfriend not only have fun, but also slam into other players multiple times in one night? On purpose?!

How lucky could she possibly get?

"But wait, if you aren't really going to have the puck, why'd we come back here to practice your shots?"

It was Amity's turn to smirk as she pointed at the empty pizza box sitting next to Luz.

"Well. You didn't touch your food at the restaurant first of all. And secondly, I knew something was bothering you. And when something bothers Luz Noceda, she needs distractions to make herself feel useful before she can start to feel better." The witch answered plainly, giving Luz's hands a squeeze.

Luz's smile slipped. Amity noticed it fade and pulled her hands forward, yanking Luz up from her sitting position.

"Come on Chaos, let's skate for a bit."

"Oh, Amity, I'm not sure that's the best ide-" Luz tried arguing, but Amity had pulled back just enough that the human had to scramble over the railing or risk being squished into it.

As soon as her feet touched the ice, Luz's legs slipped out from under her. Amity's arms were there to support her in an instant, providing just enough balance that they began to glide backwards, almost peacefully, around the ice. Every once and awhile Luz's limbs would freak out and she would nearly wipe out, but every time Amity was right there, holding her up and the girls would devolve into giggles once again.

When they were both exhausted from fighting Luz's inability to function on ice, Amity guided them both off the rink and they took a seat in the players box once again.

"Ok. I swear. One of these day's I'm finally going to just get it and I'll be able to walk all over the ice. Just you wait." Luz promised Amity as she wrapped an arm around her girlfriend's shoulders.

"I believe you'll keep trying anyways." Amity laughed with her, leaning into the embrace.

Suddenly she stiffened. Turning around, Luz saw it in her amber eyes how serious she was.

"Now, Noceda. You're either going to talk to me about what happened back at the restaurant or I'm going to toss you back onto the ice and you can try again right now." She growled menacingly.

Luz gulped.

"Ok ok! I'll tell you. I'm not really in the mood to go splat right now anyways." She squeaked out in a nervous rush.

Amity's eyes softened as she waited for Luz to continue.

"It's just that, I don't know if you heard or noticed, since you were kinda tired earlier, but those ladies who were sitting by us... they kept raising a fuss. Which is stupid! I shouldn't care what they think, and I don't! But... they kept bothering everyone on the staff and the other customers. I was getting worried that things were going to escalate and I didn't want you to get caught up in all of that."

Amity's face was blank as she puzzled together what Luz had said. Maybe her reaction didn't make sense after all. Luz was probably overreacting anyways...

"Raising a fuss? Why would they raise a fuss over us?" Amity asked curiously.

Luz's eyes widened. It wasn't like Amity to be oblivious, that description mostly fell to the human, but the genuine innocence in her girlfriend's voice worried her.

"About us, because we were there. Together. Being happy." Luz answered bitterly, holding Amity even tighter.

Luz watched as Amity's face twisted into a confused frown. It suddenly occured to her that the witch may not actually know what homophobia really was. In all the time Luz had spent in the Boiling Isles, she never encountered anything like it.

"Amity... they were disgusted by us. There are some people here who think love should only exist between a male and a female." Luz explained grimly, avoiding looking at the witch beside her.

"But.. why? What about, any person not of those genders? I don’t see how they can just limit love like that. Or why."

"You don't have homophobia on the Isles then."

"Homo... what?! Is that some kind of human insult?"

Luz chuckled. "Well, yes and no. It just means people who are afraid of same sex couples, but it can extend to the intolerance of anything 'not straight.'"

"Oh... ok. So the fear leads to hatred. And then you get 3 ladies causing a fuss." Amity nodded, finally understanding. "On the Boiling Isles there's so many different sentient species that it never mattered who you loved. "

"Yeah... well here it seems to matter too much."

Both girl's were quiet. Luz had never felt ashamed of who she was, but for those few minutes in the restaurant she was afraid. Afraid of what would happen if they didn't leave.

"Luz?" Amity asked suddenly.

"Yes?"

"Can you tell me next time something's bothering you like that?"

Luz froze. Amity sounded so hurt. She leaned her head into the crook of her girlfriend's neck and closed her eyes.

"Yeah. I will. I promise."

Amity leaned her head right back into Luz and sighed, content with the answer.

"Thank you."

***

Later that night, before they both went to bed, Luz would curiously check inside the extra box that the man at the counter had slipped her, wondering why it seemed a little bit heavier then the other, empty, boxes.

Inside she'd find a giant cookie and a note written in pen taped to the inside of the lid that read: "Next game the Otter's win, pizza's on us. No old birds or homophobes allowed. :)"

[mallowstep]

(hand games on the playground court)

"Bubblegum, bubblegum in a dish, how many pieces do you wish?"

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11-

"Alright, Featherpaw, you take my place."

* * *

"Where are we going?"

Mistyfoot glances back over her shoulder. "We're going on a little walk."

"But it's dark."

Stonefur meets her eyes. If they get caught taking the kids out, they'll be separated, and then they have no hope of protecting them.

"I know," Mistyfoot says. "It'll be fun. A little adventure."

She squeezes Featherpaw's hand a little tighter, and they cross over the road, making it deeper into the woods. Stonefur fiddles with the cellphone he picked up last time he was in town. They've waited months for a chance to use it.

Stormpaw grabs a twig, dragging it through the dirt, and Featherpaw twists a finger through her hair.

"Hey," Stonefur says. "Yeah, yeah it's me. We're alright, I've got the kids."

Stonefur crouches down, smiling at Featherpaw and Stormpaw. "I've got your dad on the phone," he says, pressing a few buttons. "Okay, Greystripe, you're on speaker."

"Hey, kiddos," Greystripe says. "How are you doing?"

Stonefur passes the phone to Stormpaw, and the kids chatter on about their days. Stonefur stands next to Mistyfoot, and she rests her head on his shoulder.

"I'm running out of cash," he says, his voice low to avoid the kids' attention. "This might be their last call."

"I'll see what I can find," Mistyfoot says. "We should..."

What should they do? Leopardstar has custody of the kids. They can't take them to Greystripe without getting dragged back here.

Stonefur puts his arm around her shoulders. "We'll figure it out," he says.

On the way back, Mistyfoot reminds the kids that this has to be their secret. They don't ask why.

* * *

Stormpaw hits the ball away from him, watching it bounce twice in the square next to him.

"You're out!" he calls, and they all rotate squares.

"Your serve," someone says. Stormpaw smiles. He doubts he'll be knocked out before recess is over.

* * *

Stonefur taps on the window to the kids' room. Stormpaw opens the window, looking confused.

"Stonefur?"

"Shh," Stonefur hushes. "Quiet, okay?"

"What are you doing here? Tigerstar said you went missing."

"Yeah, I know." Stonefur takes a deep breath. "Where's your sister?"

"I dunno. Mistyfoot took her somewhere."

Fuck. He doesn't know what his sister has planned, but he can't wait for them to get back. He's sure he's already tripped an alarm, and it's only a matter of time before someone finds him.

"Okay," he says, "You and me are going to go on an adventure, okay?"

Stormpaw looks hesitant.

"It'll be fun," Stonefur soothes. "Come on, you get to climb out a window. Isn't that fun?"

Stormpaw clambers out, and Stonefur grabs him. He's too big to carry comfortably, but too young to walk fast enough to make it out. "Piggy back ride, okay?"

"I can walk."

"I know." Stonefur shifts Stormpaw, and closes the window as best he can as Stormpaw wraps his legs and arms around him. His heel kicks into the gouge in his side, but Stonefur does his best not to react.

"Where are we going?" Stormpaw asks, as he treks towards town, turning back over his shoulder every couple of minutes.

"We're going to live with your dad," Stonefur says.

"What about Featherpaw?"

Stonefur adjusts Stormpaw, wrapping his arms under Stormpaw's knees. "I'll go back for her once we get to Greystripe," Stonefur says.

He walks until noon of the next day. They're in a new town, and he forks up enough cash to get them a motel room. Stormpaw's head is resting on his shoulder, and he slides the kid into the bed as gently as he can. Hopefully, he can run to a gas station and back before Stormpaw wakes.

The attendant examines his purchases. Stonefur doesn't have cash to waste on hiding what he's doing. A bottle of rubbing alcohol, sewing kit, and a new burner phone. He's lucky he's wearing a jacket, because he's sure his shirt has been soaked with blood.

Stormpaw wakes when Stonefur opens the door.

"Hey, buddy," he says. "Sleep well?"

"I'm hungry," Stormpaw says.

"I know. I need a minute, and then we'll see if we can't scrounge up something for you to eat."

Stonefur shuts the bathroom door and starts the sink. His side is angry and red, and this is going to hurt like hell.

He doubles numbers in his head, high as he can keep track of, as he cleans it out and stitches it shut. It's not a good job, but he can't afford a doctor.

Stormpaw is fiddling with the TV when he opens the door. He looks at the shoddy stitches. "You should see a doctor."

"I'll be fine," Stonefur says. "Just a second, and then we'll find some food." He dials Greystripe's number. It's been nearly six months since they last called him. "Greystripe, it's me."

"Stonefur?"

"Yeah. Listen, I can't talk for long, but me and Stormpaw are on our way to you."

"What happened? What about Featherpaw?"

Stormpaw hangs upside down off the bed, mouthing along to the theme song of some children's cartoon. Stonefur is surprised he remembers seeing it.

"I didn't have time to get her. It was one or none." Stonefur runs his hand through his hair. He must look half wild. He'll have to clean them both up before they leave, if they want any hope of not attracting attention. "We won't be there for a while. Maybe a few months."

"I can come to you," Greystripe says. "Where are you? Do you need anything?"

"I don't have an ID, I don't have a bank account, and we've gotta keep moving," Stonefur says. "We'll be fine. You're at the same address?"

"Yeah. Can I talk to Stormpaw?"

"Yeah. But listen -- Mistyfoot will take care of Featherpaw. I wouldn't have left her if she would be alone."

"I know." Greystripe is frustrated, angry, even, and Stonefur can't blame him. "Keep in contact, okay?"

"Yeah. Don't talk for too long. I only have so many minutes."

* * *

Tawnypaw is jumping.

"For all have sinned and fall short in the glory of God," they chant, Tawnypaw jumping on every other syllable.

It's fall, and they're not back in school. Tigerstar says it's a bad influence and probably why Stormpaw left and he won't risk any more children being corrupted.

* * *

Maybe Mistyfoot should be more surprised when she's moved into a new room with Featherpaw. But it feels par for the course. Tigerstar has been livid ever since Stormpaw and Stonefur ran (or since Stonefur died, he keeps changing the story and Mistyfoot isn't sure which one is true), and cramming them in a windowless barely-more-than-a-closet feels about right.

Featherpaw is seemingly unbothered.

"He's isolating us," she explains. ""Cause our brothers were bad so we're probably bad so he doesn't want it to spread."

Mistyfoot cradles Featherpaw against her. "We're not bad," she says. "Our brothers aren't either." She runs her hand through Featherpaw's hair. It's tangled, but she doesn't have a brush.

"Tigerstar says we are," Featherpaw says. "Says we need to do a penance-" she slows down over that word, like she is making sure she has the right pronunciation "-so that our souls will be clean again."

Mistyfoot kisses the top of Featherpaw's head. "We don't need to do anything," she says. "Tigerstar doesn't know what he's talking about."

Featherpaw shrugs, like she doesn't want to argue but still thinks Mistyfoot is wrong. "He didn't let me bring my book," she says, her nose scrunching. "I was in the middle of a chapter."

* * *

"Last piece of cake," Stonefur says. "Who gets it?"

It's Stormpaw's tenth birthday. He hasn't celebrated his birthday since he was five, but Stonefur brought a cake back to their room and said they were celebrating this year.

"We should...thumb wrestle over it."

Stonefur smiles, but Stormpaw is pretty sure Stonefur lets him win. But Stormpaw doesn't touch the piece of cake.

"You won," Stonefur says, "don't you want it?"

"It's Featherpaw's birthday too," Stormpaw says.

Stonefur's jaw tightens, and his eyes crinkle at the corners. He rubs Stormpaw's shoulder.

* * *

Stonefur steals a car in late December. It's too cold to walk, and they're both exhausted, and he doesn't have the money he needs to buy one.

He'd be ashamed, but he doesn't have another choice. Stormpaw sits in the passenger seat, even though he's definitely too young for that, and Stonefur passes him a map.

"Ready, navigator?"

"Ready."

* * *

"Concentration!" Featherpaw says, "sixty-four!"

Mistyfoot doesn't know any games, so Featherpaw is teaching her all the ones she knows. Tigerstar hasn't let her go back for her book, or let her take any of the worksheets they've been doing back to their room, and Featherpaw doesn't have a long enough piece of string to do a cat's cradle. "I go first, you follow." Mistyfoot is watching Featherpaw carefully, but she's doing the motion fine. This is an easy game, anyway. There's nothing going on. It's mostly about the words.

"Category is...animals."

Mistyfoot smiles.

"Sheep."

"Mouse."

"Cow."

"Dog."

"Cat."

Someone bangs on the door. "Will the two of you shut up?"

* * *

Tigerstar places his hand on the small of her back.

"I hope you're doing well, Mistyfoot. I'm sure it's been hard, losing your brother like that."

Tigerstar sighs, using his other hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ears. "It just goes to show you, you never can be sure about who's loyal."

* * *

That summer, Stormpaw draws a hopscotch grid on the driveway. Greystripe has bought him chalk, and markers, and a new backpack and more than the two sets of clothes he had been washing out in bathroom sinks.

"There aren't really any neighbourhood kids to play with," Greystripe says, "but if you're okay with winning all the time, I'll play."

[amethystroselilith]

Intertwined Fates (Chilumi/Zhonglumi) - Chapter 4

Free from uni for now... Hopefully I can write more! Thank you for waiting patiently!

Can be read in ao3 here

SUMMARY:  As Ajax looks forward to their future, someone from the past awakens...

“You know, just because I said I wanted more kids, doesn’t mean we have to do it like every night… or whenever we’re alone…” Lumine gave out a slight moan in the end when she felt her lover suck that sensitive mark on her neck, “Ajax, it’s too early in the morning and I need to walk today.” she whined, gasping when he bit her softly.

“Sorry, you look too delicious.” Ajax grinned, letting go of her so she could roll on her back to look at him with a pout.

“Same excuses.” Lumine playfully rolled her eyes, “Anyway… do you think she’s ready for school?”

Lumine felt Ajax tensed, letting out a sigh when she saw his shoulder trembling, “Oh my god, Ajax, please…”

“My baby girl is growing too fast.” his voice cracked.

Ever since Lumine reminded Ajax about Qiqi starting school a week ago, the man had been a bit emotional. Coddling the child ever since and keep asking if she’s ready, and it’s totally fine if she doesn't want to and he can just hire a private tutor for her. Lumine had to hit him at the back of the head saying that it’s important for their child to learn how to socialise.

“Lumi, our baby will be surrounded by boys! I can’t handle the thought of giving my princess away, Lumi, I can’t!”

“Ajax, she’s 5.”

“I can’t, Lumi!”

Lumine isn’t gonna lie, she’s also worried about how Qiqi would fare being with other kids considering she hadn’t interacted with kids her age.

But this should be it, right? The right time for Qiqi to meet and interact with other children.

The blonde also has that anxiety within her, what if someone’s mean to her child? Crush Qiqi’s dreams of having playmates?

Qiqi isn’t sure what she’s getting into, but as her parents explained what school was, there was excitement in her eyes as they talked about the various learning activities it has.

Besides, the pre-school was only a couple blocks away from their bakery, Lumine should be able to be by her side when needed.

“Lumi, what if our Qiqi falls in love? And that punk beaks her heart? She would be safer here, I already have the best tutor in mind.” Ajax tries to convince her.

“Ajax, for the last time, no one’s falling in love with anyone.” Lumine groaned, “And if it’ll make you feel better, the class has more girls than boys.”

“...What if she likes girls?”

“Then we love her just as much, but for fuck sake, Ajax, they’re kids. Worry when she’s in high school or college.” Lumine rolled her eyes, only to regret it when Ajax gave her a horrified look.

“I don’t want my baby to grow up.” he cried.

“Ajax, we can’t stop the cycle of life…” Lumine sighed, it’s too early to deal with this.

“So that’s why we should make more babies.” Ajax grinned, only to be hit by a pillow on the face.

“Oh my god, I’m going to check on Qiqi before dealing with any more of your bullshit this early morning,” Lumine said with a chuckle.

“Baaabe, homeschooling isn’t so bad!” Ajax called out for her only to receive an eye roll.

He pouted and decided to get ready himself, Qiqi’s going to school, he doesn’t need to work from home anymore. So it’s back to the office with him, back to dealing with his insufferable co-workers, especially the midget.

With that thought, he got up from the bed with an annoyed groan.

~~~

“Bye, bye, Papa. Love you.” Qiqi said, kissing his cheek before getting out of the car and grabbing her mother’s waiting hand.

“Bye, sweetie, have fun at school, okay? And if someone hurts you, tell Papa so I can take care of it, okay? Papa loves you.” Ajax smiled, earning a scoff from Lumine.

“Don’t teach our child violence this early.” she tsked before leaning in the car window, “Good luck at work and don’t kill anyone. I love you,” she said before pecking his lips goodbye.

“Hm, I’ll try not to make Mona a widow.” he grinned, “Bye, see you tonight. I love you too.” Ajax said, waiting and watching his girls to make sure they’ll be fine before driving off to his office.

Despite still being anxious for his daughter’s first day of school, he can’t help but fall in love with their new routine already. Him making their breakfast while Lumine prepares Qiqi for school, him dropping them off at the bakery, Lumine walking Qiqi the few minutes walk to her preschool. They all do their day until Qiqi’s done with preschool by 12 noon, Lumine picking her up and staying at the bakery until it’s time for Ajax to pick them up and go back home.

He can’t wait until more of his future kids join their routine.

Ajax is never trading this life for anything.

~~~

“Thank you, and have fun with your new kite!” the brunette smiled softly as he handed the kite to the child.

“Thank you, Mister! Thank you, Dad!” the little girl grinned, jumping excitedly as she hugged the toy to her chest, “Let’s go to the park! I wanna see the fairy fly!” she pulled her father out of the store.

The father just gave the employee a smile and wave before he’s led out by his daughter.

“Isn’t it nice seeing their little smiles? So bright and hopeful.” the old owner chuckled as she rearranged the toys on display.

“It is a great feeling.” he smiled.

He wondered how the father feels seeing his child happy, it must be a wonderful feeling .

Does he have a child of his own?

As he wrecked his mind for anything, he came up with nothing.

Looking at the golden band on his finger, he wonders yet again about the blonde woman who seemed etched in his mind.

“Ah, Zhongli, don’t you worry. My grandson is good with computers, I’m sure we’ll find her soon.” Granny Shan encouraged as she saw the look on his face again.

Zhongli forced out a smile, “Thank you, Granny Shan.”

It’s been a week since he awakened.

A week since it was explained that he ended up in a coma after being in a plane accident. Granny Shan had been his saviour, had taken him under her care, even transported his comatose body in this region when she moved to build another toy store. When asked why Granny Shan just gave a sad smile and talks about how he reminded her of her son whom she lost from an accident as well

Zhongli thinks she’s lucky to find an empty lot close to a preschool. He could imagine kids dragging their parents here when they’re let out.

Still, a week had gone by and still no memories coming back. All he knows is his name thanks to the ID he had on him, unfortunately, most of the information had been scratched off, or made unreadable thanks to being submerged in a puddle for too long before he was found, and the fact that he’s married because he has a ring on him. He could only assume the beautiful blonde woman is his wife, why else would he keep dreaming of coming back to her?

The lack of information on himself forced him to stay with Granny Shan. Choosing to help her after he recovered enough to do so while at the same time, doing all he can to remember.

While Granny Shan would contact her grandson and would receive a list of profiles, but none of them had been her.

Zhongli doesn’t blame him though, all he could offer him was her physical appearance, which is so hard to track down without any name to refer to. Not to mention her grandson isn’t even a part of a government organisation that would be able to get a hold of registered citizens, he was an IT, but the fact that he helps a stranger like Zhongli makes him a hero in Zhongli’s eyes.

And he wishes no further to burden them with his problems, but unfortunately, he can’t do anything but help around the toy store.

Though as much as he would like to come home, 5 years is a pretty long time.

How is she now?

Where is she now?

What is she doing now?

Upon finding out that he had been in a coma for five years, Zhongli vomited. It was a lot to take in and the fact that he can’t remember anything is very overwhelming and frustrating.

He was depressed for days, recovering and getting back on his feet just last night and asking Granny Shan if he could help because the blonde woman was encouraging him, asking him to come back to her.

She would sing sweetly for him, yet he can’t remember the lyrics as soon as he woke up.

Waking up without her had been torture for Zhongli so far, the need to be with her is growing stronger by the day, and he doesn’t know just how long he can wait until he breaks and go crazy chasing after a woman he doesn’t even know still exist.

His eyes widened at the thought, quickly shaking it off as he felt his heart race anxiously and his stomach churning badly.

Of course, she exists, why else would she keep asking him to come home?

His head began to ache, and it seemed it shows since Granny Shan is walking to him with a worried face, “Maybe it’s time for a break, yeah? Do you have a headache?”

Zhongli shook his head, “I’m fine don’t worry,” he smiled, “I should be fine if I drink-”

“I’ll make you some tea.”

“Please, I don’t want to bother-”

“Sonny, it’s fine, making tea should be easy for an old lady like me rather than having to man the cashier, don’t you think so? It’s almost noon, meaning kids might be filling the store soon.” Granny Shan explained with a smile, “Now just wait there, okay?”

Zhongli nodded in defeat, “Alright.”

Granny Shan then left to go to the back, where it functions as their home. It’s a decent size with 2 bedrooms, a kitchen, and a bathroom.

The man busies himself with rechecking the toys displayed, making sure they’re properly placed that children can see them. He sweeps for a few, just waiting for the time to pass by. He may have started working today, but he could hear the commotion before when it reaches noon as the store is filled with customers. It made him feel bad thinking about leaving the old lady alone, but there was nothing he could do about it but work his best.

It soon struck 12 and as expected, the small preschool across the street had released their students. Zhongli straightened up, preparing to greet customers as he already saw some kids dragging their parents in their shop. He watched as some kids threw tantrums when their parents denied them, some making their way excitedly to his shop, there were already two little girls looking at the display. The blonde one with elven ears pointed at a little plushie resembled some kind of a rabbit inside a red bag, her red eyes sparkling as she talks to the other girl. Zhongli can’t help but smile at her friend’s reaction, her magenta eyes wide with fascination as she listens to her talk.

They then met eyes, Zhongli smiling brightly with a small wave, making the girl return the gesture with a wide smile.

He also waved at the little blonde girl who is now tugging at the older blonde guy they were with.

“Albedo-oniichan, let’s get it, please! Pleaaaseee!” he can hear her behind the window, “Klee has been very good! Klee didn’t get sent to the corner by Ms Jean! Please, please, please!”

The man Zhongli assumed as Albedo smiled softly, “Well since you didn’t cause trouble, let’s go.”

Klee squealed in excitement, and seemed like was about to invite her friend, but it looks like the purple-haired girl was looking at someone who Zhongli couldn’t see.

Zhongli assumed it was her parents or guardian picking her up since she waved goodbye to her friend. He was a bit taken back when she turned to him and waved goodbye to him as well, but he returned the gesture with a smile.

For some reason, he felt some sort of happiness for the little girl.

He didn’t get to think much of it since customers had started pouring inside.

~~~

Zhongli once again smiled at the little purple-haired girl when she passed by the shop again. It had been 4 days so far and they had always been waving at each other when they passed by.

“Does that girl not have a guardian with her? I don’t think I’ve seen her with an adult.” Zhongli hummed as he cleans the shelves.

“Hm? The purple-haired one? Ah, her mother works at the bakery a couple of blocks away, it’s a few minutes walk, 2 or 3 at most. She only needs to step out of the bakery and watch from there, so she’s completely safe.” Granny Shan explained, “They have great pastries, by the way, I brought one home earlier, seems like a new product of theirs, feel free to eat them, they’re in the fridge.”

“Ah, it’s nice that their workplace is close to her school.” Zhongli hummed, a sudden craving for pastries appeared, and a specific sort of flavour too.

Zhongli ignored the craving, not wanting to leave the old woman alone with cleaning.

“Quite an adorable family too, I met her husband as well, a protective father he is.” she chuckled.

Zhongli can’t help but wonder, if he has a child, what kind of father was he?

He hopes they’re doing well if he does have. What a shame it was that he suddenly disappeared from their lives.

A longing feeling blossomed in his chest again, oh how he would love to meet the blonde goddess in his dreams, how elated he will be to find out if she bore his child.

“Say, Granny Shan, weren’t you saying about giving me a salary?”

“Hm? Did you change your mind about not getting them?” Granny Shan hummed.

“No, but shall I use that to buy that big finch plushie?” Zhongli asked, remembering how the little girl’s eyes would look at the bird-shaped stuffed toy longingly.

Granny Shan smiled, knowing exactly what he’s thinking, “Of course.” she chuckled, “Have you grown attached to the little girl already? It hasn’t been long nor did you two ever talk. It’s a shame I forgot her name, my memory isn’t the best.”

Zhongli smiled embarrassingly, “I just feel a bit bad, she’s been eyeing the toy ever since. Though, I’m a bit worried what her parents would think.”

The old lady waved him off, “Don’t worry about that, just put on our card so they know it’s from here, they know me there and that I own this place.”

Zhongli's smile brightened, “Thank you!”

He can’t wait to make a kid’s day bright.

~~~

The very next day, Zhongli waited for the little girl to pass again, he doesn’t know why but he felt so excited.

Just like on routine, she passed by again, and instead of waving, Zhongli gestured for her to wait. She listened, having been familiar with the old lady who owned the store, that’s why her mother didn’t have to wait for her outside. Granny Shan had been the one watching over her since Zhongli had been doing most of the work inside the store.

She gasped when Zhongli showed her the toy she’d been eyeing her. She immediately hugged it when handed to her, Zhongli can’t help but be in awe at the appreciative gesture.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she jumped, hugging the plushie half her size.

Granny Shan can’t help but smile at the interaction, oh how she wishes Zhongli would be able to find his home with his family.

“It’s no problem, little one. I hope you take good care of them.” Zhongli smiled.

“Qiqi will name him Mr Finch.” the girl said.

Qiqi

There was a sudden pain in Zhongli’s head, not wanting to scare the little girl, he hid the pain.

“Well, I’m glad Mr Finch is in capable hands.” he smiled through the pain.

“Qiqi can’t wait until Mama and Papa meet him! Thank you, Mr!” Qiqi said once again before she had to make her way to her mother’s bakery.

As soon as Qiqi is far enough, Zhongli releases a groan as he rubs his temples.

“Something wrong?” Granny Shan asked with worry as she followed Zhongli inside.

“It’s probably just the heat or something.” Zhongli reassured, “It should be fine after taking a break.”

Granny Shan nodded, “Well, the day should be slow now, go on and take a break. You can even walk outside? The fresh air should be good for you.” she smiled.

Zhongli nodded at the suggestion before going back to his room.

As he lay down on his bed, he can’t help but think about what had happened.

Qiqi

The name tugged something in his chest, but he just can’t understand what it is.

He took a deep breath to ease his headache, maybe he should go for a walk after a nap.

[missinghan]

time lapse ⤖ seo changbin

❖ genre : idiots to lovers! au; long-distance relationship! au; fluff; a teeny tiny bit of angst

❖ word count : 14,9k.

❖ warning : explicit language, suggestive remarks & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you used to see Changbin as a friend until you realized that you both don’t look at each other the way best friends are supposed to. 

one.

Apparently, people like you and Changbin don’t look forward to spring breaks, ever, because you simply cannot see the point in getting pumped for the very few days of sleeping in only to dread every last moment of it. Hence, he keeps FaceTiming you every day and night with such ridiculous reasons it actually boosts your ego into thinking that he misses you. 

Oh, boy were you wrong.

But this time around, he seems so flustered and burnt up all of a sudden it makes a smirk creep its way up to your lips. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you’re more than satisfied like a sadistic predator. You can really use some tea right now, it’s been a little boring without any dramas other than Hyunjin being dramatic over how his hair does not look good in any way, shape or form. That alone is enough for you to throw him off a cliff because since when does Hwang Hyunjin not look good?

Changbin asks. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, I have. You’ve been asking the same question for five minutes straight.” You roll your eyes at him in the bitchiest way possible. 

He questions subconsciously, only to have you narrow your eyes at him. “You have work tomorrow, right?”

“Bin, you have my schedule. Of course, I have work tomorrow.” You utter in disbelief. 

“Can’t I just make up excuses to call my favorite girl?”

You make a gagging noise. “Cut the bullshit. Spill or I’m gonna whip out the big gun.” 

“And what is that?” He drawls the question in boredom. 

You grin at him coyly. “I’m gonna tell Chan to poison you with cilantro.” If Changbin had to choose between eating cilantro and jumping into a tank full of sharks, he’d definitely, without a second thought, sleep with those horrifying fishes with ridiculously deadly teeth. He hates cilantro with an ignited passion, and he’s entitled to that decision for the rest of his life. He’s sworn that he would never eat cilantro as long as he lives. 

“Fine,” Changbin huffs in defeat as he holds his phone up while lying on his bed. “I need your help.”

You twirl the end of your hair dreamily and acknowledge his request. “I like the sound of that, go on.” 

He shoots you a dirty look, proceeding to continue. “How do I get a girl to notice my feelings for her?” 

His words strike through your eardrums like a lightning bolt. You don’t know whether you should be crying or laughing because 1) Changbin was never the kind of guy to be interested in having a girlfriend, he has always kept his hands to himself since forever although girls were more than ready to throw themselves at him anytime, anywhere; 2) How come he has never talked to you about this? You feel utterly betrayed because the key to having a long-distance relationship is to not hide anything from each other. And he’s doing the exact opposite of that; 3) You don’t feel as happy for him as you’re supposed to and now you feel like a horrible friend. 

“Oh-my-god.” You gasp scandalously. “I’ve been waiting for this day to come my entire life! And it’s happening right in front of my eyes! It’s actually happening! Wait… did you already pop your cherries or…” When Changbin looks like he’s about to put your head on a stick, you quickly realize that you should have just focused on the topic. 

He fakes a smile. “And what day is that?” 

“The day that my best friend asks for relationship advice from me! To finally embrace the most amazing thing to happen in life, called ‘love’! Duh.” You prop your head onto your hand, blowing a few strands of hair out of your face. “So, who is she?” 

“I don’t know if you can really help me Y/N but she’s like 5,000 miles away from me right now—“

“What did you just say?” You cut him off unintentionally. “Is she an exchange student?”

“Yeah? You can say so..” He trails off and scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “We met on Tinder and got to see each other later at a uni conference, and she’s really—“

You cut him off again, this time, it’s intentional. “Run, just run away.”

“Why?” He looks at you weirdly. “You’re not making any sense right now.”

You chuckle creepily, making him shudder. He’s never seen you laughing in such a dark tone it makes him wonder if you’ve been possessed or not. “Running away is actually a smart move, my friend. Just get yourself out of the war before there’s blood on those precious fingers of yours. Exchange students get all the attention. Guys or girls, doesn’t matter. Students are gonna be attracted to them like a bunch of moths to a tiny spark of flame.”

“But, but—“

You stop him before he can even say something stupid. “No but. And a long-distance relationship too? Not ideal. You can’t just slide into her DMs and ask her to be with you when you’ve only met twice. Unless her feelings aren’t necessarily not mutual. But yeah, I doubt that.” 

“Whatever, I might as well just gonna fly home and watch some shitty movies with you instead.” Changbin purses his lips in boredom and runs a hand through his hair. “Do you wanna watch that zombie movie still? Zombieland right?” 

You nod eagerly because gosh, after months and months, he still remembers. It’s one of those little moments which perfectly showcases how much Changbin cares about you. Because unlike some people, he actually pays attention to what you’re saying. And you would be lying if you said that those little actions of his never made your heart tingle. They do, and it sucks. 

“Damn right, I’m pumped for the sequel, never really got the chance to watch it since college has been nothing but a bitch to me.” 

“You’re so fucking spoiled, Beastie.” He snickers, biting back a smile. But deep down, you can clearly see right through his facade and feel the slight disappointment in his brown eyes. Exchange student or not, if it’s what makes him happy, then you fully support his decision. And if that girl ever tries to pull a dirty move on him? You’ll hunt her down and sell her off to some random mafia organization. 

You laugh wholeheartedly, trying to lighten up the mood. “Listen, if you kept scrolling through Tinder, having a girlfriend wouldn’t be a problem. Because I’m pretty sure there’s not gonna be a single person who’d not swipe right.” 

Changbin cocks a brow. “Why not?”

“Because you’re hot as shit!”

He groans loudly at your bold statement, cheeks tinted pink in embarrassment. “Shut up, mom.” 

You smile cheekily at him. “Love you too, honey boo.”

two.

As much as you clown Changbin for using Tinder since the day he asked you for dating advice, you can’t help but think that you’re a little bit lonely without his company. Funny enough, you also found yourself scrolling through the infamous app for hours and hours until there’s a match. 

The only thing that’s funnier than Changbin asking dating advice from a total fetus than you is you talking big games to him when you haven’t even got laid, not even once. So obviously, you’re so close to pissing your pants as you dread the drive to your date, tremendously. 

“Since when did you even start using dating apps?” Yeji scrunches her nose in disapproval as she starts the engine. You both just finished watching ‘Dolittle’ since Robert Downey Jr. is an icon and you’re not planning on missing out on any of his movies. But that’s not the point because the point is, your roommate knows your impulsive ass too well. Meaning, she’s not letting your day end without giving you something to feel better about it. More straight forward-ly, she’s trying to lighten up your mood before your date can piss you off. 

You singsong, trying to wiggle yourself out of the situation. “Since Seo Changbin asked me about a girl.” You know Yeji just as well as how she knows you, so you’re taking advantage of her carelessness to bring up a whole new topic before she can lure you into ‘the talk’. 

Yeah, ‘the talk’, sounds scary enough if you’re thinking about that one awkward, intimate conversation with parents about how babies are made. You think it’s utterly useless since society is basically corrupted and kids these days are all over the place, watching porns left and right with their parents’ IDs. So having ‘the talk’ with Yeji is definitely not gonna be full of questionable statements in replacement for making love. 

As far as you know, she only forces someone into ‘the talk’ with her when they suddenly have some kind of romantic interest in another human being. Upon hearing that, she’s gonna be out and about, playing the role of God and telling people all of the do-s and don’t-s along with a detailed description of how she’s gonna drag that person to the very bottom of hell if they end up breaking their heart. You’re sure as hell that you’re not ready to talk about it with her. In other words, you’re not ready for her to torment you about some boy that you haven’t even met. 

“Seo Changbin, dating someone?” Yeji fakes a gasp. “Wow, tell me all about it.” 

You roll your eyes at her. “So you knew?” 

You don’t know why you’re even surprised anymore since Changbin tells Hyunjin everything who’d spill everything to Ryujin for their midnight gossip session who’d complain about it to Yeji later on. The cycle is fully completed before you even know it and that does not make you feel any less of a dumbass. 

“Duh,” She purses her lips before making a turn at the second intersection. “Listen, just enjoy your date, I’m not gonna tease you about it until you tell me how much of an asshole that guy is.” 

You sigh in relief, drowning into your seat like a jellyfish. “Thank God.”

“But,” Your roommate drawls the word for a painfully long time. “Can we just talk about how it’s such a shame? You and Changbin would make an extremely adorable couple, right? I kid you not.”

You choke on your own saliva, coughing furiously as your hand desperately tries to roll down the window for some fresh air, mainly for the heat that’s slowly creeping up on the apples of your cheeks. “Who would ship me and my best friend together? That sounds like every drama to ever exist. Ew.” Hissing at her like a snake, you repeatedly fan your face with the hope to rid off the annoying coral tint. 

Yeji narrows her eyes at you and quickly diverts her attention back on the road because no one is getting pulled over on a gorgeous Saturday night, at least not her. She still has to finish the last episodes of the drama she’s been fangirling over. “So you’re telling me that you’re not jealous when Changbin told you about other girls? You’re totally, absolutely, entirely okay with him hanging out with some random chick in Italy?” 

It makes your blood boil even more when she mentions the fact that yes, Changbin is having fun with someone who’s probably ten thousand times hotter than you in Europe, but you’re more pissed off at the fact that she’s always right. Of course, you’re fucking jealous, why wouldn’t you? You can’t even fathom the sheer fury that’s running through your veins. Your heart is pumping pure exasperation into your brain. Even your liver can’t filter such anger. You hate the idea of Changbin wrapping his arms around someone other than you so much you’d rather choke yourself to death than even glance at such sight. 

But, for the sake of a completely normal conversation, your mouth says otherwise. “Why not? He’s not my property, I don’t get to decide who he falls in love with. Moreover, he deserves someone he truly adores. That’s not my business for all I know.” 

“Liar,” Yeji smirks. “Enjoy your date all you want, Y/N. Try not to think about Changbin too much or your date’s gonna flip.”

Again, you can’t stress enough how annoying Hwang Yeji is because somehow, in which you still don’t know how, she can read your mind in a snap of a finger. So it’s no surprise for her to know that you’ve actually thought about dating your own best friend before. It sounds so cliché you might bury yourself alive if you accidentally slip one day and confess your stupid feelings for him. As if on cue, your sixth sense is currently tingling, trying to tell you that you will definitely make a fool of yourself as you try to elaborate on how you feel about Changbin. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” You sneer sarcastically at her as she parks her white Rover right in front of the restaurant. 

The moment you step out of her car, Yeji tosses you a look. “Don’t you dare trip on me Lee freaking Y/N, don’t even try it.”

“I’ll have Minho pick me up, now skittle outta here.” You grimace before shutting the door close. Turning on your heels, you inhale sharply and push the glass door open to enter what seems like literal hell on Earth for the next four hours or so. 

three.

Being on an actual date reminds you of why you never even use dating apps in the first place. 

The only part that prevents you from running away is that Yeji has his dating profile. She knows his number, his occupation, his face, and all that jazz because meeting strangers for the very first time and already eating out with them gives you every right to be paranoid. But you’re not gonna tell him that because you still respect him just fine. And in case he’s acting all sketch, you’re gonna make sure that he’s not going home in one piece. 

Okay, you can’t just blame Jaemin because he’s not an asshole. He really isn’t. He’s a nice guy in general: respectful, confident, and outgoing with a good sense of humor. Respectful? Checked. Confident? Checked. Good sense of humor? Checked. Outgoing? That’s the dealbreaker right there. You don’t hate him for it, it’s just he’s too outgoing for an introverted potato like you. 

Both Jaemin and Changbin have very strong personalities like every Leo should. You’re most definitely not an astrology nerd but you’re educated enough to know that Leos are dramatic, warm-hearted, passionate and impulsive. 

In which, Changbin makes you laugh your ass off until you can’t even breathe whenever he’s whining about you waking him up at 9 a.m. But you gave Jaemin nothing but a scrunch of your nose when he yelped out loud as his mashed potato was too hot. And you kindly offered to finish it for him after knowing that he can’t have dairy products. Changbin’s managed to get you out of the house every weekend even when it’s a simple trip to the mall and whereas, Jaemin makes you feel more of a voiceless being when he continuously brings up one topic after another at the literal speed of light. You almost miss how you can just throw out the most random sentence without being afraid of someone judging you. 

Clearly, Jaemin isn’t the one to blame here. 

Admittedly, it’s just a ‘you’ problem. 

And even more admittedly, it’s just because Na Jaemin is being himself, and will always be himself. He’s never gonna be, and will never be Seo Changbin. 

Seriously, what’s up with Changbin taking over your mind today?

“Do you perhaps wanna watch a movie after dinner— you’re not listening to me, aren’t you?” Jaemin stops mid-sentence when he catches your dreamy expression, for the fifth time that night. 

You quickly regain your composure and sigh in defeat. “Fine, you got me. Again.” Burying your face into your palms, you’re practically choking on your own frustration because you don’t wanna lash out on him just because he’s not your type. “Ugh, I’m sorry, okay? I’ve never been on a date with a stranger before. Who’d have thought talking on texts was so much easier?” 

Jaemin props his head on his hand and makes eye contact with you. He breaks it after a good five seconds to catch you off guard, slowly processing his current thoughts like a lawyer in court. “Let me guess, you’re in a long-distance relationship with someone but since they’ve been away for quite some time, you got bored. So that leads to you, drum rolls, hopping on Tinder to find a one night stand.” He closes in proudly, a triumphant smirk painted on his slightly chapped lips. 

For the first time after hours of dreading Minho to come and pick you up as soon as possible, you can finally let go and have a good laugh. It’s like the pressure of being on a date is gladly lifted off your shoulders and you feel like you’re just catching up with an old friend. Which is weird because Changbin— Would it kill to stop thinking about Changbin for once in your life you dumbhead?

“And how did you know that?” You smile at Jaemin, deciding to focus on him for the rest of the night so that he doesn’t think you’re disrespecting him. A date is still a date. Even when the feelings aren’t mutual, the amount of respect should be.

He slowly takes a sip of his water and chews on his steak after. “Not to be creepy but when you went to use the restroom, a notification showed up and I saw your lock screen. He looks like one of those hot SoundCloud rappers who manages to stay anonymous under their stage name even when they’re mad famous. You know, cool people making dope music without being too problematic like ‘real’ celebrities.” Jaemin says it with such admiration you’re nearly more than ready to rant about how talented of a music prodigy your best friend is. But for the sake of him being your best friend, you’re not gonna do that. Yet. 

“We’re not dating, just childhood best friends.” 

He wiggles his eyebrows at you with mischief laced in his brown eyes. “You have a thing for him then. Aha! I knew it! All best friends are obligated to be together, it’s an unwritten norm of the universe.” Wow, just when you thought that no one would know about your feelings for Changbin other than your annoying, chaotic friend group. 

“In my defense, he was the one who set that photo as my lock screen.” You grunt under your breath but don’t even try to hide it. “I shouldn’t have swiped right.”

“Be grateful that you did.” Jaemin inhales the last bits of his dish with satisfaction, dabbing the sauce on his lips away with a napkin. “Because not only am I paying for the meal, I’d love to meet up again to hear you ramble about the boy on your phone. As friends. Also because you totally saved my lactose intolerant ass back there.” He declares loud and clear, smiling from ear to ear. 

You roll your eyes at him in slight annoyance. “Fine, but I’m paying for the movie tickets.”

Jaemin extends his fist. “Frozen 2? I know a place that’s having it tonight.”

“You got it, broski.” You chuckle and bump your fist with his while your heart is yelling at you to get the fuck out of this restaurant because you’re about to suffocate yourself with the amount of painstakingly awkward silence that this place possesses. 

Before you even know it, you’re walking out of the Hilton Hotel with an empty bucket of popcorn in your arms as Jaemin hogs two cups of Coke which are left with nothing but ice cubes right beside you. It’s like the whole being too cautious thing that’s been driving you insane has disintegrated into literal dust. Watching a movie with Jaemin feels like you’re babysitting your non-existent little brother while your parents are out of town and Minho is bar-hopping with the guys. Except for the fact that he gave you his hoodie because the cinema’s ACs are ridiculously cold as always. But it’s really nice, actually, because although the date didn’t turn out how you expected it to be, you did make a new friend. 

That rarely happens so you’re definitely giving yourself a pat on the shoulder. 

“The plot was kinda messy, don’t you think?” You ask him after tossing the bucket into a nearby trash can. 

Jaemin nods in acknowledgment and swings an arm around your shoulder. “It was all over the place, I’m with you all the way. And Elsa in that purple dress too? Yikes.”

You laugh with him, continuing the conversation with much less ‘watch what you’re saying’ and more ‘actually enjoy the date for the sake of it’ until you both reach the parking lot. “Drive safe and text me when you’re home, okay?” You remind him like the bossy person that you are as you pull out your phone from your purse. 

“You’re not my mom.” Jaemin snickers and his fingers hover above the tips of his keys inside his pocket. “Wait, your brother’s picking you up right?”

[9:35 p.m.]

y/n | hey, pick me up already. 

meanhoe | sorry sis, I’m a bit occupied over here. 

meanhoe | just call a ride home or smth.

[9:36 p.m.]

y/n | LEE MINHO ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

y/n | do you have the slightest idea about how many serial killers are lurking the streets, waiting for girls like me to fall right into their traps?

meanhoe | paranoid.

[9:37 p.m.]

meanhoe | let me tell you about how Han Jisung is taking a nap on my lap rn.

meanhoe | in graphic details.

[9:38 p.m.]

y/n | or I can just tell you about that time when mom and dad found you right next to a trash can on a sidewalk instead? 

y/n | it’s a very lovely story, trust me.

[9:39 p.m.]

meanhoe | ugh, what do you want?

y/n | nothing, Jaemin will drive me home.

y/n | goodnight.

[ 9:40p.m. ]

meanhoe | hey! I can make it up to you still!

y/n | I SAID GOODNIGHT.

You toss your phone back into your purse in pure disappointment. And with a prolonged sigh, you turn to Jaemin. “He abandoned me. Can you give me a ride home?”

He cackles at the scowl on your face and gestures you towards the seat next to the shotgun window. “Hop in.”

four.

“Wow,” Minho utters. “Just wow.” 

“It’s you again, why am I still surprised at this point?” 

He grins coyly and slips the keys into his pocket before running a hand through his bed head. Chuckling creepily, he watches as Changbin struggles to roll both of his suitcases across the bumpy surface of your front porch. “You left my sister crying with a bucket of ice-cream for Italy. How does that feel? You know, to finally be free from her ?” Minho inquires with an amused smile. “But on a serious note, she missed you, very much so. Did you even tell her about this?

“Minho, it’s supposed to be a surprise. Do I have to translate ‘surprise’ into whatever the fuck of a language that all snakes speak in general or you’re fully capable of doing that yourself? Also, it would be so incredibly kind and generous of you to actually comprehend my messages.” 

Minho chuckles and leans back against the wall comfortably. “Why not move back here then? Aren’t you done with your degree already? Or did Italy blind you with their good food and hot girls? You’re quite qualified to be my roommate.” He drags the last part. “Just wish you didn’t have to give me that attitude whenever I’m trying to start a civil conversation.” 

Changbin scoffs at him, clearly uninterested. And Minho’s definition of a civil conversation just concerns him even more. “I have enough qualities to be your roommate? Let me guess, smart ?” 

“Secretly a nerd.” Minho tuts. 

Changbin shoots him a dirty look. “Composed?”

“I’d say indifferent and stubborn.” 

“Brave enough to kill some stupid bugs for you?” 

Minho rolls his eyes. “More like painstakingly reckless.”

“You literally fell off the couch when Jeongin accidentally popped a balloon with his pen.” 

A smirk blooms on his lips. “But you gave him an entire lecture about why he shouldn’t bring pens to a party. Inspiring leadership.”

“Looks good in black?”

Minho looks unimpressed. “Everyone looks good in black you moron.”

“Then why the fuck are you trying to pull me into your system?!” Changbin throws his hands upwards, a frustrated groan escapes his lips. “You know I hate commitments. They give me anxiety. Especially when it involves you.” Which is not entirely correct because he did have a date last week or should have had a date last week. He was so close to pissing himself in the middle of a Michelin rated restaurant. But lucky him, his date flaked out on him before he could start having a full-on mental breakdown inside the restroom. 

A glint of curiosity ignites in Minho’s orbs. “Because you absolutely have no life whatsoever.” He starts calmly, going back and forth within the limited space of the hallway. “And don’t even get me started about your love life. It’s drier than Chan’s attempt at making macarons. Oh and remind me, did your goldfish die or did you kill him? Did he die or was he killed? Or was it both?” He taunts further, and further, and further until he’s hanging on that weird borderline between having Changbin lunge at him like a predator and succeeding at luring him back to Seoul. “I’m being as kind as my mind can possibly allow without a drop of caffeine so you better take it while you’re at it.”

Changbin is fuming with nothing but pure anger. He’s so fucking close to crush every single strand of liveliness left inside of the man in front of him until he turns white like a complete ghost. But he’s also convinced that Lee Minho is just a non-biological heir of the Angel of Death. Hence, getting rid of him is impossible. “Come over here and make me.” Crossed arms, he’s determined to not leave the city without at least throwing a punch at Minho’s ridiculously perfect face. 

“What are you? Four?”

Changbin stops himself from throwing hands at him and turns on his heels. “Nothing, it’s just that I don’t really like you all that much.” He makes his way to the kitchen, tossing his black beanie onto the counter. 

“Yeah, me neither.”

He protests triumphantly. “See?”

“Listen up you man child,” Minho grits and walks behind him through the living room, passing by a hungover Jisung with Woojin on top of him at an unusually persistent pace that seems to cover up the bubbling anger inside his stomach. “Would you stop what you’re doing and listen to me when I’m trying to prove my own point? I’ve known you for all my life—“

Changbin interrupts him. “Those times when you passed by me at the library and made fun of me for studying for finals in high school? Doesn’t count.”

Minho hides behind a rather cheerful voice, his stare colder than an ex-wife’s fighting for custody over her child in court. “That doesn’t matter! Y/N went out with some guy last night and even let him drive her home. I don’t even know if she’s okay or not since she wouldn’t pick up for the past hour. And I just can’t let those two idiots at home alone, completely unaware of their surroundings.” Changbin shoots him a weird look and he quickly brushes it off with a click of his tongue. “Don’t ask.” 

Changbin chokes on the can of Coke that he just grabbed from the fridge. “Wait, so she’s not here?”

“She moved in with Yeji months ago in an apartment near college, didn’t she tell you ?”

“No?” He raises a brow. “And what date? Who? How? Where? When?” 

Changbin’s starting to panic a little bit because if you were to be on a date, you’d most likely hide in the restroom just to text him for a good five minutes. Very much like him. Anyway, he’s also quite concerned about the fact that you didn’t reply to Minho’s texts all morning. Maybe he’s overthinking again but he knows that you’ve forced yourself to be a morning person even when it’s the holiday since you don’t wanna dread bringing back your old habits when a new semester hits. 

Minho drums his fingers against the dining table. “Who? Some boy called Jaemin? How? Tinder. Where? The Hilton Hotel. When? Last night until almost 10 I believe.”

Now Changbin’s fully entered panic mode because since when did you even use Tinder? And not tell him about it too? What if you’re already kidnapped and sold to some creepy people from China to make profits off your organs? “That’s it. Give me her address, I’ll go.” He drops his backpack onto the floor and grabs his coat, downing the last few drops of his beverage in a rush. As soon as Minho texts him your address, Changbin dashes straight through the front door like a tornado to the point that it has Woojin facepalming himself on Minho’s dad’s old carpet. 

“My job here is done.” Minho cracks his knuckle and takes a seat at his family’s dining table, picking up his phone only to receive a text from you. 

[8:23 a.m.]

y/n | ugh, is your friend gonna come over to pick up the speaker or what? it’s been fifteen minutes.

y/n | and what’s his name again? Jackson?

meanhoe | yeah, he’ll be there in ten.

meanhoe | eat a chill pill sis, I’m in charge.

five.

You frown furiously at the series of messages that you and your brother have been sending each other for the past ten minutes. Something smells fishy, and you can already see that stupid, self-indulging smirk spread across his face without him being right next to you. But then again, no one really knows what’s going on inside that disturbing glimpse of thing called ‘a brain’ inside his head because magically, and spontaneously, everything works out whenever he’s in charge. 

Except when he’s in the kitchen with Jisung and Hyunjin as his cannot-be-anymore-useless vice-cooks, aka when they’re holding onto each other for dear life the moment Minho cracks an egg onto a heated pan with oil boiling along the edges. 

“Ugh, Yeji! It’s supposed to be your turn to do laundry, you ass.” You repeatedly hit your roommate’s sleeping figure with a pillow, slightly mad at the fact that she’s still in bed when you’re done with grocery shopping. Sometimes you wonder if her only talent is sleeping through earthquakes. Maybe that’s how she has mad stamina and can still do a decent thirty minutes of cardio after dance practice. 

Yeji mumbles nonsense into her pillow and slaps your hand away only to bury herself under the wool blanket again. It takes every strand of energy left inside of you to pull the soft fabric over her head and onto the floor it goes. “Why are you making such a fuss out of me forgetting to do laundry ?” She sits up grudgingly like a zombie digging itself up from its own grave and yawns obnoxiously. 

You blink numerous times at her in disbelief. “Uhm, hello? Because I don’t have anything to wear? And also, FYI, it’s almost ten, okay? Wake up Sleeping Beauty. Prince Charming isn’t available today.” 

“Shut the fuck up!” She whines loudly before dropping onto her backside in defeat. “You’ve never binge-watched any dramas before, you’d never get it.” Hey, it’s not your fault she chose to stay up until 3 a.m. for a stupid drama. You’re not gonna tolerate her complaints about migraines after having lunch, not this time. 

“Besides,” She glances at you before throwing an arm over her head dramatically. “You look good in that hoodie, where did you get it?” 

You grab various pieces of clothing dangling off of her bed and her beige-colored computer chair as you ponder about your life choices. “Na Jaemin, who else? God, and I need to give it back to him too.” 

Yeji teases. “Are you making an excuse to meet him again?”

“We didn’t click, that’s all I have to say.” A smirk finds its way to your lips. “I basically adopted him now, so yes, I am making an excuse to meet him again because a mother has every right to see their son.” 

“You’re so weird.” Your roommate purses her lips before turning her back against you. 

You scroll through your feed in pure boredom. “What do you want for lunch? Wait, it’s too early for lunch, what about brunch?”

“Anything will do.” Yeji shrugs, not even trying to get out of bed when it’s already 9 a.m. So naturally, you’re already facepalming yourself at her questionable sleeping habits. 

Now, where is that guy Jackson?

As if on cue, your doorbell rings. You’re dead meat to me. You roll up your sleeves and put on your ‘formally serious’ face before grabbing the tote bag right beside your couch. Without even checking who’s there through the peephole, you swing the door open in a rush. “Look, Jackson, I’m really not in the mood to invite you inside for tea nor biscuits so just take the speaker and—“

“Y/N, I don’t need a speaker, stop bombarding me with information that my brain can’t even comprehend. And who the hell is Jackson?” Changbin puts his hands up as if you’re holding him at gunpoint. And you almost laugh out loud at how he looks like he just found out Trump is president, he— wait, Changbin’s here?

You subconsciously drop the speaker without noticing that you might break something before Jackson actually gets here. “You came back?!” Your mouth automatically goes agape, utterly speechless. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” He chuckles when you crash yourself into his embrace as an attempt to hide your teary eyes. Meeting Changbin in person again feels like a rollercoaster full of mixed emotions, you have so many things to say but nothing comes out right. Maybe it’s best if you just keep your mouth shut for the time being. 

And thank God he still smells the same and doesn’t shower himself in ridiculously expensive cologne like other guys because you’d disown him if he starts smelling like a Tommy Hilfiger store. Changbin gently wraps his arms around your waist, rocking you from side to side. “You missed me that much huh?” Suddenly tongue-tied, he’s officially lost the ability to form a proper sentence when you hold onto him so tightly, so desperately. 

When you pull away, you don’t even know what to say when so many things are running through your mind at the speed of light. After all those years, he’s changed. Yes, people change. But Changbin changed, for the better. He looks impeccable even in a simple black t-shirt with a grey bomber jacket thrown over his figure. Wait, has he been hitting the gym? You swear, last time you saw him he was five times smaller. His jawline can now cut you too apparently. Years of friendship and you just found out your best friend is an actual health freak. 

“As if..” You sniffle into the crook of his neck, tears continuously streaming down on your cheeks. Eventually, you give in. “Fine, I did miss you.” 

Changbin laughs wholeheartedly, sending vibration throughout your entire body. “Missed you too, Beastie.”  And it’s there again, that fuzzy feeling tickling the pit of your stomach. It feels wrong, and your heart knows that too well. To the point that you’re afraid of your own feelings for him, that you’d hurt him, or he’d hurt you. You just can’t decide if confessing to him is worth the risk of destroying your friendship forever. But it’s most definitely not. Maybe it’s better this way. 

“Wait,” Changbin scrunches his nose and pulls away. “You smell like a guy.” Then something rings a bell inside of him. “Right, you went on a date with some cute boy without telling me? Explain yourself.” 

You scratch the nape of your neck sheepishly, slightly embarrassed. “Well… long story short, I got bored and downloaded Tinder. He was cute, but not compatible.” 

“There you are, what took you so long?” Yeji pops her head out of her bedroom, almost giving you a heart attack. 

You toss her a look. “What do you mean ‘what took you so long? Did you know? Again ?” And she nods apologetically. “Why the fuck do I feel so left out right now? Are you guys setting me up for something sketchy? Who’s in charge?” 

“Your brother, obviously.” 

You step aside so that Changbin can walk into your living room before shutting the front door closed. “Zip it, he’s adopted.” 

six.

Kim Woojin, as always, throws his annual ‘welcome back’ BBQ party whenever someone returns from a long trip for a fairly long time. Of course, he would never leave Changbin hanging. 

Which, also means you’re obligated to accept the fact that he just single-handedly dragged you out of your apartment with the most minimal of physical effort. So now you’re stuck inside his stupid kitchen, with your siblings (no not Minho, not that heathen), potatoes. You look so incredibly alike your brother might actually be whatever with the harsh truth that you can’t stop taunting him about how he’s adopted. 

Anyway, because you’ve always been terrified about the thought of accidentally having your sleeves caught on fire, Chan just shooed you back inside to work on the potato salad. And the worst part of making a potato salad? Peeling the skin. Seriously, you’d marry someone who invented an automatic potato peeler, that’d be godsend privilege. 

The saying goes : ‘When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade’. Likewise, but in your case, it’s : ‘When life makes you cook, get yourself a best friend who’s good at it instead’. Problem solved. Changbin might not be as great as *snorts* Minho, but he did manage to survive multiple months in Italy without spending too much money eating out when he’s very, absolutely, entirely financially capable of doing that for the rest of his life. He appreciates home-cooked food because of the process, the time, the effort, the love that every family member (or one family member) put into the dishes. And it may not be something that’s Gordon Ramsay-approved, but gathering around at the same table gives people the chance to catch up, to communicate, to care more. 

And what does that mean? Well, that means when Changbin, fortunately, makes it out of the war zone in Woojin’s backyard where Hyunjin is chasing Jisung with a dead spider between his metal tong, he finds out that he just, in fact, got himself into another disaster. Bits of potatoes’ skin is everywhere, scattered randomly from the kitchen aisle to the wooden cutting board. Bottles of mayonnaise and mustard are lying lifelessly across the dining table, saucing dripping from the opened caps. And jars of different spices look like they just got dumped into one big bucket, mixed together, and then carefully divided them evenly into each one again. Changbin is utterly alarmed right now and he can’t decide whether he should be helping you or just run away. But since it’s you, he can’t simply turn on his heels and leave because chances are, you’re gonna fucking stab him in his sleep. 

“Woah, who did you kill ?” He gasps, taking slow strides toward your figure standing at the kitchen aisle. 

You blow a few strands of loose hair out of your face, crying dramatically. “My sanity, it’s long gone.” You tell him as you try to stir the mixture of mayonnaise, paprika, apple cider vinegar, celery seeds, mustard, and sweet pickle relish in a stainless steel bowl with a wooden spoon, trying hard not to ruin Jaemin’s favorite hoodie. “And if you’re not planning on giving me a hand, then the exit is right that way. No one’s stopping you.” 

Changbin shakes his head at you in disapproval for a hot minute before pulling your hair free from the loose bun, accidentally dousing himself in the more than familiar scent of your shampoo. Fresh, and a bit pepperminty, he missed this so much it’s starting to get creepy. Basically his heart just swells, but he’s gonna choose to be in denial like usual. “Better get your hair out of your face first.” He says and effortlessly puts your messy, black mop of hair into a high ponytail. It’s not like he hasn’t done this before because Changbin tends to play with your hair a lot while you’re both on a Netflix marathon. But this time, you didn’t know what it was, but the moment the tips of his fingers brushed past your bare skin, they sent electricity down your spine and goosebumps rose on your skin. The fact that your little heart feels like it’s running on a treadmill for hours doesn’t make it easier to deny how much he can affect you without even trying.

“Why are you still wearing that hoodie ?” Changbin points out, confused. 

You answer monotonously, still mad at your roommate. “Because Yeji forgot to do laundry. So I have nothing to wear.” You hate her even more now because she’s probably gonna be out and about, going to questionable parties with Ryujin until dawn and asking for a cup of water when she gets back home on your bean bag chair. “I’m gonna have to return it to Jaemin soon.” 

Changin snickers. “Yeah, you better.” He finishes chopping up the hard-boiled eggs, celery, sweet onions, and fresh dill, dropping the ingredients into the dressing that you just made. 

“So,” You walk over to the dining table to grab the bowl of chopped potato. “How did your date go? Was she cute or did she look like a potential serial killer? Wait, serial killers can look cute.” You shiver at the thought of losing your best friend in some foreign country because someone can literally be kidnapped in a span of fifteen to twenty seconds. So you don’t see the point of being ashamed about always being paranoid. 

Changbin helps you pour the dressing over the potato before stirring the goodness together with a wooden spoon. “Ah, that,” He scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “She’s okay I guess. But you never know, talking over text is always easier.” 

You decide to let Changbin finish up the dish and grab some paper towels to wipe down the table and counter. “So you guys never met up ?”

He looks hesitant to tell you. “Technically, we were gonna see each other every day because of the internship but I guess no? Our schedules aren’t exactly compatible. Maybe I’ll just ask her out again when I fly back.” 

You stop cleaning up the mess on the kitchen aisle and turn your attention onto your best friend. He’s nibbling on his bottom lips, guilt is evident in his eyes. 

“What internship?” You ask. 

seven.

Seo Changbin used to have ( and still has ) a soft spot for you. And everyone knows that all too well. 

He wasn’t kidding when he said that you’re his favorite girl. He wasn’t kidding when he said that he’d take a bullet for you. But you kinda wish that he was because falling in love with your childhood best friend just sounds so wrong on so many levels altogether. Jaemin night be right, it is written in the stars for some people to fall in love with their best friend but that life is not for you. There’s just something about the idea of Changbin and you as lovers that twists an immediate knot in your stomach. Sometimes you wish he doesn’t have to be so affectionate towards you so that you can give up on the one thing that’s holding you back : false hope. 

He would always drag you out of bed in the middle of the night to watch the stars and talk with him even when you guys were practically inseparable. Your group of friends constantly tells you that Changbin could never keep his hands to himself when it comes to you but realistically, he’s just a secretly clingy person who loves cuddling. But those little moments where you guys were sharing the same bed, snuggling into each other’s presence like it’s the last sense of comfort in the entire world were the ones you cherish the most. They can make you smile stupidly to yourself all day. 

And Changbin never failed to surprise you too. He once made the whole fancy breakfast in bed with flowers that only happens in movies and you couldn’t stop talking about it. Even ‘till this day, you still can’t shut up about it. He only brushed it off and told you that he wanted to spoil you since it’s your birthday but you took it as something much more than just a birthday present. Because those little actions of his are what set your heart on fire and you feel like it could combust anytime if he keeps looking at you so tenderly all the time.

Changbin isn’t a man of many words because he truly believes that actions speak louder than words. At least for him, his actions are much more powerful than his words. But that doesn’t mean his words never had any kind of effect on you. Because they did, greatly. You still remember how you’d always wake him up in the middle of the night because your stupid brain cells decided to give you a mental breakdown after bottling feelings up for so long. But Changbin didn’t just scold you for keeping everything to yourself, he did something else much more magical and much more comforting than any advice you could ever have. 

He’s written plenty of songs for you before, and you can still vividly hear the familiar melodies every now and then whenever you’re in a really dark place. 

It felt like a tight hug when you were all alone and in distress. But what sucks is that it makes you miss him even more. Where in the world is he? What is he doing? Does he have a decent life? Moreover, is he happy? You were always worried sick about Changbin because he’s that type of guy who works his ass off for things that he’s passionate about but he’d be willing to do something else for others because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Hence, upon hearing about him turning down an internship just to fly back, you didn’t know what to say or think. 

You yell at Changbin. “Are you out of your mind?!” 

He huffs in disbelief. “I’m a fully grown man who has every right to make my own decisions so I chose to visit my friends instead of torturing myself inside a studio. Yeah, sue me!”

“Do you have any idea how many opportunities and chances that internship would bring? There’s no need for you to do that just because of us!”

Changbin points out snarkily. “Well, you were the one who decided to call me at 3 a.m. every single day, complaining about your insomnia and shit.”

You gasp scandalously. “Why are you even saying that? It’s like you don’t even know me! I’m trying to put your benefits before mine, why is it so hard to understand that? Are you trying to say that I’m the bad guy in this conversation?”

“Maybe you are,” He says through gritted teeth. “Likewise, I’m trying to put my friends first instead of locking myself up within four soundproof walls twenty-four hours a day, five days a week, until spring break is over. You are being fucking ridiculous!” 

You’re slightly taken aback when Changbin had the audacity to say such things. Why is he still so fucking stubborn? “I’m the one who’s being ridiculous? Me trying to not get my best friend's talent wasted, me trying to not have my best friend make the rest of his break go wack because all we do here is apparently get drunk, eat, sleep, and repeat. That, is being ridiculous ?” You let out a humorless laugh. “Well, if I need to keep on doing that in order to keep you on track with your dream, then I fucking will.”

He hisses at you. “What are you? My mom? I’m a fully grown adult for fuck’s sake!” 

“Yes, I am technically your mom since the day you threw up on my dress in kindergarten. I even wiped your puke off of your face, you ungrateful brat.” 

“Uhm guys, you might wanna tone it down..” Felix tries to cool off the situation since he doesn’t really enjoy eating dinner while two people are continuously throwing daggers at each other with their eyes. 

Another thing, no matter how whipped you are for Seo Changbin, there’s still this little demonic part in your heart that screams to strangle the light out of his eyes every single day. Even back then, you guys bickered like there’s no tomorrow without a care in the world. Fortunately, your problems were always quick to be resolved because you just could never bring yourself to hate him even when you wanted to. He’s just that contagious, never fails to put a smile on your face nonetheless. 

So naturally, it’s ten minutes into the BBQ party in Woojin’s backyard and you’re more than ready to fight him. Metaphorically, not literally because you’re too utterly soft for him anyway. 

“Shh, shh,” Minho easily shushes Felix up with his index finger over his lips. “Lix, keep it down, the Petty Olympics is just getting started.” 

Jeongin purses his lips. “You’re such a snake, did you know that?” He’s obnoxiously chewing on the slices of grilled steak that Chan just took off the iron rack. Like Felix, he wishes to enjoy dinner in peace but that has not happened for quite some time and he’s already sick of it. 

Minho rolls his eyes at the younger boy with nothing but disgust in his eyes. “Wow, what a truly shocking revelation, Jeongin. It’s for the irony, sarcasm is needed in order for my joke to work.” He sips on the glass of whiskey in front of him like how he simply sips on his coworkers’ complaints about their relationships every morning. “Now run along, grab your monthly paycheck and buy yourself a sense of humor.” 

Jisung snickers. “Wow, is he mean today—“ 

You cut Jisung off unintentionally, huffing with such determination. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

Changbin says casually. “It’s not like I want to.”

“I will break you.” You give him your best death glare.

He tips his imaginary hat with a smirk tugged on his lips. “If that’s what makes you happy, then I certainly cannot wait for it, Little Mistress.”

eight.

It’s the second time you’re hanging out with Jaemin and still, you can’t bring yourself to develop any non-platonic feelings for him. Do you really want to date him? Not really. Again, he’s not a bad guy. In fact, girls can just pass by you both walking by the Han River and they’re already eyeing him up and down like an expensive piece of steak. 

Maybe it’s something about trying to push Changbin out of your mind for once in your life. Or it can be something about the fact that he actually has some kind of romantic interest in his Tinder date. Or you’re just being ridiculous and totally overthinking the situation. 

It’s sad, but you’ll have to accept it sooner or later. You see Jaemin as nothing but a friend, and a little brother because he’s funny, respectful, and everything you can ask for in a guy. But, at the end of the day, he’s just not Changbin. 

And although you’re madly in love with your best friend, it seems like Jaemin gets you and manages to keep your mind off of him for the day so that you don’t end up crying alone in one of the bathroom stalls. You can’t be any more thankful. 

“You seriously didn’t have to watch ‘Dolittle’ twice just because of me,” Jaemin tells you as you both stand at the front door of the movies, hugging his bucket of popcorn closer to his stomach. 

You smile at him. “Robert Downey Jr. is worth watching any movie twice. That’s why I’m still not over the Endgame depression phase because I may or may not watch it one too many times.” 

He rolls his eyes at you and proceeds to throw his garbage away. “Crybaby.” Then, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and walks you towards the entrance. “I had fun tonight. Thanks, Y/N, it means a lot. Should I walk you home?”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t.” You answer cheekily. 

Jaemin teases, “Because your boyfriend might show up and punch me in the face?” 

“Shut up! He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Woah, I didn’t even say who it was. You’re so whipped for him.”

You elbow him in the stomach, earning a low grunt from him as a response. “I shouldn’t have given you your hoodie back. I should have burnt it or something.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you, holding onto the paper bag that you brought tightly. “No, keep it if you want to. You look good in it.” 

Before you can even clap-back at him with a witty retort, your phone vibrates inside your pocket. “Sorry, someone texted me.”

[ 9:23p.m. ]

meanhoe | Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?!

meanhoe | SOMEONE BROKE INTO OUR HOUSE!

meanhoe | I’m upstairs rn, but there were some sketchy sounds earlier. I think they’re in our kitchen.

meanhoe | Bin’s still in the living room!

meanhoe | COME HOME!!

Oh. My. God. 

nine.

“Changbin, pick up, pick up,” You murmur and keep pacing back and forth at your parents’ front porch, frantically fumbling with your phone in your hands. “Goddamnit just pick up!” You groan out of frustration when you can’t even open the door because it’s locked, and Changbin’s not doing a great job at responding to your calls either. Which can only mean one thing, he’s being held hostage inside along with your brother and the intruder’s probably confiscated their phones. 

You’d take a bullet for Changbin if that’s the last thing you could do for him. There are no words to fathom how important he is to you, so now instead of thinking of how to save his ass, you’re stupidly, foolishly thinking back to high school where he would always eat lunch with you whenever Minho’s too caught up with practice, where you both would lie under an ugly tree at the very back of your school’s enormous backyard, trying to do homework and dozing off five minutes after. Changbin’s been with you through thicks and thins, with all of your ups and downs. His lack of doubt for you was what helped you survive those horrendous years and you’ve decided that you’re not gonna let go of him, not in this life. 

Therefore, you’re about to do something dumb. That something is going to prevent your best friend from getting murdered. But the chances of getting your head blown into bits are undeniably high too. That wouldn’t matter now, would it? If the intruder dares to tick you off, he best believes that you’re gonna fucking take him down with you. 

Mustering all of the courage you have left, slowly, your fingers hover over the doorknob, the other on the wooden surface, ready to bang on it like a crazy person. You inhale sharply and close your eyes. 3..2..1..

The door suddenly swings open, causing you to stagger forward and your eyes widen in panic. “Y/N? What the hell?” Changbin catches you in time and frowns furiously at your soaked figure. Your hair and clothes are doused with rain, the tips of your fingers as cold as ice from staying outside for so long. You flutter your eyes open at his words, mouth grows agape when you find out that your current position can’t be any more awkward. 

Great, now what?

Wait, where’s the intruder? “Are you okay?!” You mindlessly throw yourself at him, holding onto him so tightly like he’s gonna disintegrate into thin air once you let him go. Blood is roaring inside your ears, your heart is picking up its pace as you have so many questions, so many things to say but.. he seems pretty okay? “Is Minho okay too? Where is he? Why didn’t you pick up my calls? Why was the door locked?” 

Changbin pulls away softly to prevent you from hearing his heart thumping vigorously inside of his rib cage, eyes as wide as a goldfish’s. “What? Minho’s downtown today to meet up with his old friend who’s studying abroad. Didn’t he tell you?” 

“No?” You knit your brows together and take a full ten seconds to process what just happened. Why do you feel like you just got played? 

He closes the door and walks you inside. “And why the hell do you look like a wet rat? Did you just walk home? Weren’t that Jaemin guy supposed to drive you instead?” You purposely ignore his questions and continue to piece the little amount of information that you have together. But once you throw a glance at your parents’ living room, you see a box of fresh, piping hot Hawaiian pizza with ‘Fast and Furious’ playing on the forty-eight inches TV. With that, everything makes sense. 

You ran home as fast as you possibly could, under the rain when it’s dark outside all alone and this is how your brother repays you? 

“Wow,” You utter, somewhat lightheaded. “I need to sit down.” You tell Changbin when he comes back with a white fluffy, towel. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, wordlessly bringing the towel to your head as an attempt to dry off your hair. You’re startled by his sudden affection, cheeks growing pink as you avoid eye contact. 

Changbin caresses your cheekbone gently as if you’re far too fragile for him to touch and you just play dumb by batting your eyelashes repeatedly to shake the droplets of rain away. He quickly snaps out of it, taken aback by his own action. “Would you care to tell me what happened before I put you on trial?” He says with his arms crossed.

Your blood slowly boils as you choke on your own exasperation.“Minho told me that someone broke into our house and basically held you hostage. So I rain-checked on Jaemin, ran home only to find you in one piece with a pizza while watching ‘Fast & Furious’.” You hide your face behind your palms in sheer embarrassment as Changbin cackles his ass off in his annoyingly adorable laughter that makes you crack up every time. 

He throws his head back and continues to laugh wholeheartedly, holding onto his stomach for dear life. “He got you good, wow. So much for supporting his sister’s second date. I’m sure he just wants to make sure that you’re home before twelve.” 

“HE COULD HAVE JUST PICKED ME UP HIMSELF! HELLO?” You throw your hands in the air, huffing. You swear to God, Minho’s dead meat to you tomorrow morning. Your brother knows your feelings for Changbin all too well and he’s just doing everything he can to kick Jaemin out of your love life but the irony here is Jaemin was never there in the first place. But, Minho’s an evil mad genius so he still succeeded in pushing you back to Changbin when you’re trying to avoid him the most. Props to him, you’re now stuck inside a house with your best friend because your parents are currently going on vacation in Bora Bora. 

That wouldn’t be a problem unless you’re madly in love with him. But you are, and it sucks. 

You exclaim, smacking Changbin’s arm, causing him to whine loudly. “Would you stop laughing? I was scared that you’re gonna get murdered!” 

In a split second, he pulls you flushed against him, rocking you back and forth as he ruffles your hair. When the vibration of his chuckle emits from his chest just makes your heart skip a beat. Changbin’s never been the cheesy, romantic type like Hyunjin but sometimes he does these things that just messes up your heart more as if it’s not already all over the place. 

“Come on, Beastie, go change your clothes. I wouldn’t wanna cuddle with a sick person.” 

ten.

One shower and five minutes later, you’re on the sofa right beside Changbin with your head rested comfortably on his shoulder. The first episode of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ is blaring clamorously on your dad’s TV as your eyelids grow heavy, hanging on the edge of shutting before your favorite character even pops up. 

Changbin notices your sleepiness and pulls the wool blanket closer to your body, high enough to cover the rest of your shoulders as you snuggle into the crook of his neck. He pouts at the box of pizza and two empty bottles of Henny before playing with your hair, braiding a small section of it in boredom. He’s definitely not the type to rewatch any shows but since you’re just so pumped for the second season, you insisted that you two should binge-watch season one all over again. Obviously, he doesn’t see the point because he already knows everything, how does rewatching it has anything to do with getting him ready for the next season? Besides, you’re already falling asleep when it’s only ten minutes into the episode. 

But is Changbin gonna let you sleep in peace just like that after all those years of you waking him up at an ungodly hour? Nope. 

“Hey,” He nudges you with his elbow. “They said there wouldn’t be a second season.” 

You jolt up from your sleepy state, eyes shooting open in utter surprise and disappointment. “Wait what?! Why not?!” You cry out dramatically, hands batting in midair like a madwoman as if they’re looking for something to hold onto. Soon enough, you plop yourself back onto the couch in defeat, letting the alcohol take over your entire body. You can already feel it kicking in as your limbs grow lighter and so does your mind. Gosh, you just wish you weren’t so lightweight. 

Changbin chuckles at you, caressing your hair softly. He pulls you closer to him by your shoulder and takes in your scent like it’s the last sense of comfort on Earth. “You’re so cute when you’re drunk, did you know that?” He studies your features closely, quickly realizing how much he must matter to you for you to show this vulnerable side to him so casually. Giddiness is an understatement for the way that his heart just beats ten times faster, the way his arms hold you close so gently but so tightly at the same time. In this cracked darkness with the insufficient source of light from the TV screen, you’re so beautiful it takes the breath right out of his lungs. You seem too serene to be true, eyes closed, lips slightly agape it makes him wonder how it feels to seal his with yours. 

As if on cue, your favorite character appears on time and you swat the sleepiness away, pointing at the screen with half-open eyes. “Five! He’s so cute, can I adopt him, please?” You giggle and show him those infamous puppy eyes. Changbin can never resist it’s actually frustrating. 

“Yes, you can adopt a serial killer who knows how to travel through time, absolutely.” Changbin facepalms himself. “Honestly, what do you even see in him?” 

“He’s smart and funny, and a total badass. I like how he never sugarcoats things and stays true to himself. But, he also puts others before himself without expecting them to do the same thing back. His actions speak louder than his words because there are countless times where he saved his siblings although he talks to them as if he sees them as nothing more than a bunch of assholes. I admire him in so many ways although he’s just a fictional character. And you know why?” You cock your head sideways, leaning closer. “Because he kinda reminds me of you.” 

Changbin tenses up at the last part. “W-What?” 

The ‘sober Y/N’ would never be brave enough to tell him what you’re planning on saying next. “I love you, Bin. I know that I might not act like I give a fuck, but I genuinely care about you. You mean the world to me.” You blurt mindlessly, hiccuping into his ears. “I really do love you. I just never got the courage to say it.” You hum and toppling over his figure on top of the couch, your legs straddling his. 

“We can’t.” Changbin places his index finger on your lips to stop you from decreasing the distance. “You’re not thinking straight right now.” 

You pull back, frowning. “Why? Because I’m not sober? What do my feelings for you have anything to do with alcohol?” You’re not mad, but rather curious. Either way, you can’t seem to get mad at Changbin for more than ten seconds. 

“I- I don’t wanna hurt you.” He stutters and stops as he sees the heartbroken look in your eyes. It hurts even more because deep down, the sober part in you knows that you’d never fathom enough courage to actually tell him how you feel. And you also know that you’ve just potentially fucked up more than ten years worth of friendship. Changbin’s warm brown eyes stare at you with nothing but pure sincerity. “It’s like I’m taking advantage of you in this kind of state. It’s not right. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” He brushes your hair out of your face and sighs. 

“Bin, you respect me like no one else does. You know it. I know it. We know it. You’re my best friend.” 

“That’s the problem.” He pulls you closer while rubbing little circles on your back. “Promise me that we’ll never change, yeah?” 

You wrap your hands around his neck, a tear threatening to fall from the corner of your eye. “Yeah..promise.” 

“Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He reassures you as a confirmation, standing up from the couch that he’s been occupying for too long. You keep your gaze low, unable to meet his eyes as you’re ashamed of your own action. You shouldn’t have done that. What were you thinking for fuck’s sake?

Changbin turns off the TV before guiding you towards the stairs in the dark, holding onto your waist tightly enough so that you won’t slip. “Don’t blame yourself on this, okay?”

You voice quietly, almost a whisper. “Okay.” 

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

eleven.

That night, you held onto Changbin like he’s the last thing you’re ever gonna see although you knew too well that it’s meaningless. What’s the point anyways? He just slapped your confession away and that alone was enough for you to understand that he sees you as nothing more than a friend. However, it’s still better than being stuck in that weird gray area that just keeps messing with your mind. You wouldn’t want to get in his way either. So when Changbin tried to peel your hands away from his torso gently in the middle of the night, your eyes remained closed as you rolled on the other side of the bed. 

When you woke up in the morning, he was already gone. 

It’s like he’s never been there all of those years as if he’s just an illusion that your delusional self made up to comfort yourself when things get hard. All of his belongings were nowhere to be found, his bed in the guest room was neatly made, something that he’s never done before. Changbin left no traces, no notes, no messages, no nothing like it’s a natural implement for ‘Don’t bother looking for me, I’m not gonna come back’. But to you, it feels more like ‘You fucked up our friendship, Y/N. I will never speak to you again’. 

Losing a best friend of a lifetime is way worse than going through a breakup. But it hurts more when you’ve unintentionally developed feelings for him when you know too well that it’s not right. It’s not right. And you seriously screwed up. You just hurt the one and only person that’s so incredibly close and special to your heart. Therefore, you’re distraught, unable to do anything right for some of the following days. Utterly destroyed, you can’t seem to stop blaming yourself for what happened. 

Changbin’s done so much for you and you can’t be any more grateful to have him in your life. There was this time where you totally lashed out on him because you were just having a ‘bad day’. He didn’t even get mad at you, he never gets mad at you. Instead, Changbin let you lock yourself up in your room for an hour until he came back with a box of chocolate and flowers. Everything fell right back into its place again and you really don’t know what you did to deserve him. He always goes out of his way, prioritizing others’ benefits rather than his own. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone at all because, in your heart, you know that he can be hurt easily too. 

So it’s no shocker that you’re madly in love with him. You like how he smiles and looks at you like you’re the only person that’s existing in this celestial sphere. You like the sound of his laughter because it reminds you of Spongebob sometimes, it’s ridiculously adorable in the best way possible. You also like how he clings onto you and lets you be the big spoon whenever he’s having a long day, you can’t stop smiling knowing that he finds comfort in your presence. 

The only flaw about him is that he’s all about that healthy life, which is good for him but you’re not adapting that any time soon. And he doesn’t talk about himself enough as he’s always used to listening to others’ problems instead. He’s flawsome, but you’re willing to embrace it all. Yes, as cheesy as it sounds, you love all of him. 

Just because he’s Seo Changbin. 

You stay up for many days, thinking an awful amount and flashbacking to when you’re on top of him, staring at him so tenderly as those idiotic words slipped out of your lips. All of because of one single beer. You just wish you could take it all back. If so, maybe you wouldn’t have lost the person you care about the most. 

“No, she won’t eat no matter what I say.” You can hear Yeji’s voice echoes from the living room as you throw an arm over your eyes. “I don’t think you should see her right now, not when she’s on the verge of breaking down every two seconds.” You don’t even have to look to know that your brother’s outside, probably worried sick about you. Minho might not be the type of person to show affections on a regular basis, but he genuinely cares about the people around him. He just doesn’t know how to express that he cares. 

The front door closes with a small ‘click’, making you jolt up from your bed. Your roommate pushes the door to your bedroom open and runs a hand through her hair. She practically grimaces at the current state of your room : curtains closed, clothes scattered all over the place with you still in your PJs. It’s funny because normally, you’re the one who complains whenever she’s being messy, now Yeji has the perfect reason to pay back. “Jesus Christ,” She frowns when her hands open the beige-colored curtains. “Get yourself together, will you?”

“Leave-me-alone.” You hiss at her like a snake when the light comes flooding in, blinding your eyes in the process. “What do you want? Am I not depressed enough to be at peace?”

She shakes her head and sits down next to your reclined form on the bed, a hand finds its way to your back. “No, you’re just in denial.” Yeji pulls your figure closer, embracing you with as much sincerity that she can muster. She might as well have you scream at her for forgetting to do laundry and waking up late rather than seeing you barely alive like this. If this goes on for too long, you might end up in the ER. And she can care less about whatever you’re planning on doing next because clearly, you’re not emotionally stable enough to make your own decisions right now. 

You look down. “About what?”

“About the fact that Seo Changbin likes you too.” She says softly. “Only a dumbass can’t see that he’s completely head over heels for you.”

You chuckle dryly. “He’s not, he probably hates me.”

“He never hated you, he never hates you, and he will never hate you.” Yeji sighs as you snuggle closer to her chest. “Why would you think that Changbin hates you?” 

Your eyes widen in terror as the night before when he left replays in your head over and over again. The more you think about it, the more you wanna kick yourself for not controlling our own feelings. Three words and your best friend’s gone. He was right, you guys could never, you weren’t thinking straight. Even down to that moment, Changbin put you before him and treated you with nothing but respect. “Because I ruined our friendship. Things are never gonna be the same again. I shouldn’t have fallen for him, I’m so stupid.” You let out an audible groan and bury your face into your palms. 

Yeji peels your hands away and forces you to look at her. “I don’t see why falling for Seo Changbin is considered stupid. You see things in him that no one else does, and you even had the courage to confess how you truly feel, even when it’s because of a bottle of Henny. Not everyone can accept that because people are cowards when it comes to commitment and their own feelings.” She keeps looking you dead in the eye as if she’s testing you. “Look, even if Changbin doesn’t feel the same way. He can never hate you.”

“And why should I believe you?” 

Your roommate laughs in disbelief, shaking your shoulder forcefully. “Are you blind? Do you even hear yourself right now? Haven’t you seen the way that he looks at you, eyes sparkling like puppies and all? If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is. Even if it’s not the love that you wanted him to return, he still loves you as a friend. He just ran away because, well, he’s human too. He might need some time to himself and make up his mind.” 

You stare into the distance this time, eyes empty. “True love doesn’t count if it’s not returned, don’t you agree?” 

Yeji rolls her eyes at you, she looks like she’s about to personally drag your ass across the planet, straight to Italy just to make up with Changbin. “Oh-my-god, you’re impossible! Of course, it counts! So what, you’re telling me that your feelings for him after all these years would mean nothing if he doesn’t say those three words back? I know that you’re sad and angry about what happened, but I think it’s much better than bottling everything up all to yourself. You were brave for doing that, Y/N.”

Your lips stay sealed as you decide to listen to her lecture obediently like a child. “Do you think Changbin would want to see you like this? No, no one wants to see you all depressed and miserable. Do you have any idea how worried Minho is? Have you checked the notifications on your phone? It’s not like you can’t move on with life without Changbin, you can and you will if that’s what you have to do.” 

“So..?” 

“Are you gonna step up and get your life back again or what?”

You groan internally, because gosh, you hate it whenever she’s right. 

twelve.

From then on, Changbin’s like a phantom in your life, not because he’s constantly popping out of nowhere to scare the living daylight out of you, but because he’s constantly on your mind. Everything feels a little bit emptier without him. You don’t have to worry about having cilantro in your daily meals because he’s not there to complain about it. And there’s no longer a random cup of chai tea in the fridge on Sunday mornings because he can’t buy you one anymore. 

But at the same time, everything reminds you of him. Like how his pairs of designer shoes aren’t laying around at your front door, how his favorite hoodies aren’t being forgotten at your place intentionally, and how the Stitch stuffed animal he gave you last year still reeks off his significant scent. Everything gives you a hard time to finally let him go, but ultimately, you know that you’ll pull through. And you did. 

You move on with a college degree waiting for you at the end of this dark, bumpy road. Changbin, on the other hand, you can’t say much because his SoundCloud account is currently empty. He deleted every single song, every mixtape, every demo possible as if he’s trying to wipe his existence out of your life completely. Which makes it more difficult for you to muster up some courage and reach out to him again. 

It’s almost a year, and you wish he could have just given you a sign about whether he’s fine with being friends or not. But as always, leaving notes is definitely not his department. The thing is, you feel like you both didn’t just grow apart. You also grew up. 

“Y/N, did you ask me to go to the movies just because you didn’t feel like studying for finals?” Jaemin nudges you with his elbow and you smack his arms in return. Okay, technically you did grow up but old habits die hard, and you’re still procrastinating. Nothing new, but the occasional non-dates with Jaemin somehow helped with the aching part in your heart. You can’t say that he’s your new best friend because gosh, no one could ever replace Changbin. But ever since you found out that you guys go to the same college, you kept running into him on campus. Hence, hanging out with him is practically unavoidable. 

You laugh, letting him swing an arm around your shoulders. “Nope, it’s because I love hanging out with you.”

“Does that naturally imply as you love me?” He grins coyly before approaching your car at the very end of the parking lot. You’ve talked about this before. ‘Love’ is an overstatement for the love that you have for Jaemin. Of course, you love him, just not in a romantic way and he accepts that. Although he does sometimes pull you in as a stunt just to get a discount for buying a couples’ combo. You let him, only because you’re both broke college students who are dreading your own student’s loans. 

“Sure, I just love you so much I can’t even bring myself to say it without doing this.” You slowly feed his ego and your right hand quickly grabs the right side of his ears, dragging him into the driver’s seat of your car. Jaemin stops wincing once you let him go, pouting when you enter through the back door. “Serves you right.” You scoff, throwing him the key to start the engine. 

He rubs his now swollen, red ear in pain, whining out loud like a kid that’s not allowed to buy popcorn when their parents bring them to the movie theatre. “This is domestic violence, I’m suing.” He complains but still hits the gas and starts backing out of the overpacked parking lot. People go wild during the weekends. That’s why you’re letting him drive because you suck. 

You smile satisfactorily. “Ah, enslaved child labor at its finest.” If looks could kill, Minho would probably find your corpse in the car, limbs spread wide open because Jaemin is occasionally tossing you dirty looks through the rear-view mirror as he finds a way to hide a body while driving towards your neighborhood. 

When you get home, you politely offer Jaemin to stay for dinner but he said he’s got a date to catch up with so you just let him be. Yeji isn’t gonna be home until nine because of her shift at the café so you basically have the whole apartment to yourself until your roommate returns from work. 

Exhausted from spending all day on campus and going to the movies after, you quickly get rid of your long coat and plop yourself onto the couch. You waste absolutely no time and automatically hang yourself upside down on the cushioned surface while scrolling through your feed in boredom. You like to change up your position every ten minutes so that you feel less like a potato while your blood circulation isn’t gonna get blocked anywhere. 

The moment you’re about to accept a video call from Jisung, you’re interrupted with a rather strange notification. You decide to text him, saying that you’re busy with a presentation and open the email from an unknown email. The email doesn’t have any specific title and you don’t think it belongs to any of your classmates. However, there’s a file attached to it which makes you even more confused. Who’d send a random video to someone they don’t even know? What if this is some kind of trick that people use for human trafficking? Like once you tap on it, there’s an automatic tracker on your phone and soon enough, you’ll go missing. 

“for_you.mp4”

It makes your heart skip a beat as realization hits you like a truck. Deep down, you know, you know who it belongs to and you’re even more terrified to watch it. But you have to, you have to watch it. With a sharp inhale, your index finger trembles until it comes in contact with your screen, opening the file. 

“Is this thing on?” 

You immediately burst into tears as soon as Changbin appears. You’re stupidly, foolishly crying as he awkwardly adjusts the camera angle, checking himself in the monitor and runs a hand through his hair. Changbin’s wearing that one fitted black t-shirt that he probably bought in big bulks, warm brown eyes peeking through his messy bangs. He’s never looked better to the point that you’re tongue-tied, unable to scream even when you have so many questions, so many things to say. Yet only tears come streaming down your face. You missed him dearly, and here he is finally. 

“Y/N?” Changbin quirks a brow and smiles. God, you missed his smile too. “If you’re watching this video, don’t..post it on social media. It’s gonna be a real tearjerker.” 

You chuckle, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your hoodie. He didn’t change, at all. “I don’t know if you can still forgive me for what I’ve done, but I still owe you an apology. I’m sorry for running away. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. I’m sorry for not treating you right. It’s just when you said that you loved me, it sparked so much skepticism inside my head that even I couldn’t understand what I was thinking. Next thing I know, I was out the door, straight to the airport. I was an asshole and I know that. I hope you’re taking good care of yourself right now because you did nothing wrong. In fact, there’s something that I’ve been wanting to tell you too. I can’t seem to be complete without you. You’re it. You’re my endgame.” 

When Changbin takes in a deep breath, so do you. You nervously scratch onto the black nail polish that’s starting to chip off on your pinkie, waiting for him as he fiddles with his fingers. Suddenly, he looks straight into the camera and laughs. “Why are you still here? You didn’t see the notification, did you?”

What notification?

Your trains of thoughts are once again canceled when your phone buzzes. You’ve just got a notification from an app that you barely touched since Changbin left. “SpearB just posted a new track. Check it out!”

“Neverending Story ( Demo ).” 

Faster than a tick of the clock, you start playing the track, fingers drumming impatiently on one of your throw pillows. “Be mine, yeah?” His raspy voice sounds ten thousand times more attractive because it’s been a while since you’ve heard it and chills run up your spine. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, your heart hanging on the verge of exploding. The soft instrumental blends in with the piano in the background perfectly, drowning out every other sound in the entire world. But what throws you off is that Changbin starts singing. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sing and it’s truly breathtaking that you can do nothing more than sitting there with a hand over your mouth, letting the melody guide your mind. 

“Whenever you smile, whenever you struggle

I'll always protect you

For you,

I can even go against time

Just to appear in front of you

I believe, I believe

Even if the world changes

Can you promise that we won't?”

The first verse bleeds into the pre-chorus, then the chorus itself and Changbin starts rapping, spilling the feelings that he’s been struggling with saying out for you. Every word, every sound, every note hits differently and you feel like you’re already on cloud nine, drifting off into a daze. You can fully acknowledge and feel the ignited passion that he has for you even when he’s more than five thousand miles away, on the other side of the planet. But that’s all you need honestly because what more can you ask for? 

As if on cue, the song ends and there’s a knock at your door. 

Heat rushes up the bridge of your nose as you wobble towards the front door, head still slightly lightheaded from the mixture of emotions. You quickly fix your hair, straightening your hoodie and your toes curl from the nervousness. The moment you twist the doorknob, Changbin backs you up against the wall, shutting the door with his feet. He stares you down intensely, making you feel extremely small in comparison. But those eyes of his are filled with nothing but adoration for you and only you. “I’m in love with you, the same way that you meant it back then. I’ve been in love with you for even God doesn’t know how long. I booked a plane ticket and wrote the song as soon as that thought clicked in me. You’re all that I need. I want you to be my one and only. And I still want you back, so what do you say?” 

Your lips curl upwards softly into a smile. “You’re really outdoing yourself, aren’t you? I confessed to you when I was drunk and not only did you film a video, but you also wrote a song for me?”

“Only for you, Beastie.” Changbin chuckles and pulls you closer, sealing the gap between your lips. He’s done it, he did what he’s been wanting to for his entire life : to know what being in love actually feels like. His kiss isn’t even somewhere near as those movie stars’ that you both used to make fun of every weekend. It’s one that steeped into a passion that flickers at the very pit of your stomach, one that makes you feel like home, like he’s your safe place. Changbin’s said everything that he wanted but he kisses you as a silent promise that he will do stupid things just to be with you, to have you right by his side for the rest of his life. 

He’s the first to pull away, resting his forehead against yours as you both exchange shallow breaths. Smiling at you, Changbin can’t help himself but peppers small kisses all over your face from your forehead to the tip of your nose. 

Life likes to toss you around and fuck you up sometimes but somehow, magically it always puts everything back in its place. The amount of tears that you’ve shed feels like payment for what you’re holding in your arms right now but there’s nothing that you won’t do to be here, in his embrace. Technically, Changbin didn’t have to say those three words back and he only did because he could, not because he needed to. 

Even if he’s five thousand miles away, no one else is closer to your heart than he is. He loves you with all of the madness in his soul.

[hoardcloneheadcanons]

The Season 1 Villain: Mr. Blackwood Part 2

Summary:[After Bullying Martin and Jon into getting together Mr. Blackwood takes down Elias Bouchard with the aid of allies from the sketchiest of places]

A loose structure of ides for an AU of the fanfic  Yesterday is Here by CirrusGrey

-Mr. Blackwood tries to wait for Mr. Sims, he really does. He’s done this before. When Jon was in a coma and he thought he was gone for good Blackwood threw himself in the Lonely and an alliance with Peter Lukas. He’s trying not to assume that Jon is dead. He’s trying not to make drastic decisions without him again.

-But Elias is noticing that Mr. Blackwood is preventing his archivist from reading statements. Elias proceeds to try and get rid of Mr. Blackwood, and influence the archive staff to not trust him.

-At a point where Elias tries to get Blackwood arrested (for either impersonating an employee or for some crime he pins on him) Martin vanishes.

-This is the first the Archive Staff of Mr. Blackwood’s spooky powers, and it doesn’t help the trust.

-Elias uses the opportunity to convince them that the rituals they should be worried about are the one of the Corruption and the Stranger. He also convinces them that Mr. Blackwood is allied with the Lonely and was simply trying to attempt his own ritual behind their backs. He adds that keeping the Archivist powerless was part of that plan, and that the Archivist’s job is to prevent rituals, citing Gertrude Robinson as evidence.

-In this circumstance Blackwood decides to take out Elias on his own. He’s not quite giving up on Mr. Sims coming back, but he’s not relying on him returning either. And he determined to stop the Watcher’s Crown before Elias can kill him.

-Knowing that the Archive Staff no longer trusts him, Blackwood starts using invisibility to grab old Gertrude tapes from the police station and Elias’s office and leave them in convienient places for the staff to find. Instil a healthy suspicion of Elias in them. He’s trying to find the Gertrude Tape for Sasha.

-They don’t suspect him because he’d made it clear to them before that he doesn’t trust the tapes. He hadn’t let Jon record on them.

-He’d actually thrown them out the window only for them to appear in a drawer a few minutes later. An action which helped the archival staff believe the tapes were supernatural. Jon remained skeptical only for Blackwood to repeat the action two more times only for the same effect.

-Meanwhile Blackwood starts transposing his knowledge of what his Mr. Sims couldn’t see to Elias’s blind spots. Assuming that what his Mr.Sims couldn’t see, Elias can’t either.

- He knows his Jon couldn’t see in the tunnels, the dark, or in the doors of the Spiral.

-So he talks to Michael and Leitner to get to the panopticon and puts C-4 in the tower.

-Then he makes a deal with Either Michael to remove Jonathan’s eyes

- Specifically he tells him that at 17:00 (when he’s planning to kill Jonah Magnus) that the Archivists and his assistants will probably start screaming in pain. If they don’t, leave them alone. If they do, stab Jon’s eye’s out. If they look like they’re still dying, stab out the eyes of the archival assistants. They’ll be blind but they’ll be alive, seperated from the beholder.

-Sometime around 14:00 or 15:00  Mr. Sims shows up [SEES ALL] and is confused that he can seem to find his Mr. Blackwood or the present day Archival assistants.(One is in the tunnels, the others are kidnapped by the Spiral) He is concerned.

-Luckily the Archival assistants, due to the machinations of both Elias and Mr. Blackwood are paranoid of everyone that is not eachother. Tim, Sasha, Jon and Martin trust eachother and no one else. Unbeknownst to Elias or Blackwood they raided artifact storage for things that might help them against supernatural threats, researching correlating statements in order to use them. Tim’s research on Smirke told them about places they could use around the city that would hide them from the eye, the tunnels included.

-His connection to the Lonely may be affecting him. He’s fully accepted they’ll hate him. He’ll even let Michael tell them Blackwood sent him.

-They manage to escape the spiral long enough for Mr. Sims to SEE them.

-Sims blackmails a taxi driver to get to their location, saying he’ll reveal his affair unless he gives him a ride.

-Mr. Sims gets to them in time to get Michael to go away. They’ve all escaped his doors by this point. He’s just there to make Michael stop trying to stab their eyes out.

(”You shouldn’t be attacking me here archivist. I’m here to help.”

“I fail to see how trying to kill my younger self and my friends helps me.

“I wasn’t here to kill them, just take their eyes. Your Blackwood was very specific on that point. But if you’re going to cause me this much trouble, I won’t do it. I’m happy as long as the Eye is stopped.”

“Martin?- Oh no.”

“But if you wish for them to die with your archive, go ahead, take them. Your funeral. Your Misfortune”)

- Being saved by an older, scarred version of Jon, with glowing green eyes smattered on his skin and hovering over his head like a crown was a plot twist that the archival staff was not ready for.

-They’re shouting questions at him left and right as he’s trying to drag them toward the Archive to Prevent Blackwood from killing them all.

-Sasha has to pay for the uber. The archival staff are crammed in the back while the scarred scarecrow that is Jonathan Sims tries to answer questions from the passenger seat. The driver stares straight ahead and pretends he doesn’t understand english while hoping these crazy people will get out of his car soon.

-(Sasha: Where should I tell him to go?

Sims: To the Archive, we need to prevent Martin from killing Elias.

Tim: Blackwood. This is Martin.

Sims: Excuse Me?

Martin: So is Elias the good guy? Was he right about the Archivist stopping the apocalypse-s?

Sims: No Elias is decidedly not the good guy, and he’s trying to start the apocalypse using the Archivist. He already did in my timeline, that’s why Martin and I came here. Speaking of which, younger me, you should really avoid recording the statements.

Tim: Blackwood!

Sims: Is this really the time, Tim?

Sasha: So why didn’t Blackwood just kill Jon when he got here?

Sims: Because Martin- Blackwood, wouldn’t enjoy killing a younger version of me, or any of you. That’s why he was trying to have your eyes removed. Removing your eyes would remove your connection to archive allowing him to kill Elias without killing you. Which I will still try to do if we don’t get there in time.

Jon: Why couldn’t he just tell us that?

Sims: I DON’T KNOW! I assume it’s because he thought Elias would find out his plans, which I understand. But after all the lectures he gave me about not being paranoid and trusting people this is rather hypocritical of him.

Sasha: Is it possible that Blackwood is attempting a ritual for the Lonely?

Sims: “What- no. Is he using his powers of the Lonely again? That’s- oh. Oh that explains some things.

Sims proceeds to put his face in his hands.

Tim: So do you really eat people’s trauma?)

-Mr. Blackwood goes to Mr. Bouchard’s office. Just to see the fear on his face. Just to see his reaction to soft little Martin being his killer. It’s an indulgence. Its his revenge for tricking Mr. Sims into the apocalypse.

He also came with a gun, just in case blowing up the panoptican doesn’t kill him.

It takes him a moment for Elias tries to talk him out of it, he even tries to use the image of Blackwood’s Mother against him.

(Mr. Blackwood winced, but it didn’t stop him from looking Elias directly in the eyes.

“I’ve already seen it, Jonah.”)

-It’s then that Elias tries to tell him that the archive staff escaped, that they’ll die. (small price for the survival of the world) That his Jon is back, that he can see them. That you don’t have to do a last desperate act for a man that is still alive. Martin at first thinks that Jonah is lying and is ready to set off the bomb.

-But Mr. Sims does dramatically burst in, archive staff nervously behind him.

-He then proceeds to snog Mr. Blackwood for an obnoxiously long time.

-Sasha is stuck standing there wondering if this is really the time. Elias is at first a combination of grateful and disgusted that ranges into incredulous as they just keep going. Tim is impressed.

-Jon and Martin are shocked that anyone could like Mr. Blackwood so intensely. They then realize they’ve been staring at a version of their future counterparts make out for a very long time and look pointedly at a corner of the wall and the carpet respectively.

-When Elias tries to talk to them, saying that he was glad Blackwood could see sense, Jon proceeds to threaten him using all of his spooky archivist powers, not only getting the company credit card, but also getting the archival staff a good two weeks off to cope with their trauma. 

-(”And if you attempt the Watchers Crown again I’ll turn the Eye to look upon you so that you may feel every pain, every terror you ever caused and watch it shrivel you for the inside out. I will drink your fear of the end as you disintegrate into a half-forgotten memory.”)

-Things de-escalate from there. The archive staff attempt to go to their separate homes before they jump at the shadows and slowly congregate. Sasha calls Tim. Martin calls Sasha. Jon calls Martin. They end up congregating at Tim’s, Staying awake watching lifetime movies until they can’t keep their eyes open.

-Sims and Blackwood reorganize the power structure of the archive while the archive staff heals. They also eliminate Jane Prentiss as Blackwood catches Sims up on what happened.

-Sims does find it funny that Blackwood  managed to bully their past counterparts into getting together. He also cannot help finding it hilarious that he got to be the Straightforward and trustworthy MR. SIMS while Blackwood was a cryptic bastard.

-It still hurts. Jon didn’t mean to die on Martin again. He didn’t want to hurt him like that ever again.

-When the archival staff return, Sims goes out to lunch with them and slowly builds up trust with them. He eventually takes Blackwood with him to a lunch with Tim and Sasha, where Blackwood apologizes and explain himself. Martin and Jon aren’t ready.

-Tim excitedly checks about 15 points off his list of “accurately guessed anti-Jon” list.

-Sasha insists he can’t include the one-sided relationship one, “I know he’s besotted Tim, but It’s clearly not one sided and that’s barely an anti-Jon trait anymore.”

-Tim also notices, that with Mr. Sims by his side, Blackwood is a lot more relaxed and friendly. He fusses over him and acts, well, a lot like Martin.

-Tim comes back from the meeting declaring to Martin and Jon that, for the safety of everyone, Jon cannot be separated from Martin.

(Sasha points out this is ridiculous. 

“It’s classic transitive property Sasha. If Blackwood can become Martin with a Sims, Martin can become a Blackwood without one.

“It’s not just Sims, Tim. They also defeated their big evil, and according to both of them we died in their timeline. It’s more like... if  we died and Jon and Martin end up being the only ones left, Jon is not allowed to leave him.

“You heard her Martin, none of us are allowed to leave you for fear of you turning into a scary. dark, evil-mirror version of yourself.”

“We’re not allowed to die or get replaced by evil clones. Speaking of which, I’m going to go put a spooky table in cement with our local apocalypse couple. Want to come with?”

-Things settle, Monsters are killed, trust is rebuilt And the future continues unstopped by an apocalypse.

[myarmsaretoolong]

In the Hands of the Enemy

Prompt #2: In the Hands of the Enemy - “Pick Who Dies” | Kidnapping

Word Count: 2601

Warnings: Major Character Death | Blood | Gun Violence

Synopsis: Tony receives the call no surrogate father wants to hear, Peter’s missing. His captor delivers the be-all and end-all of ultimatums. It’s you, or the Spider.

Read Under the Cut |  Read on AO3

Tony looked up from his work when his phone buzzed; he picked it up in his free hand to check the caller ID. ‘Forehead of Security.’ He chuckled and tucked the phone between his shoulder and ear so he could return to tweaking Peter’s new web-shooters. It was the kids sixteenth birthday in a few days, and Tony wanted to surprise him with a little upgrade.

“Hey, Hap. What can I do for you?”

“I don’t suppose Peter’s with you, is he?”

Tony shook his head lightly, “Don’t mess with me, Harold. It’s Friday. You pick him up on Fridays.”

“I’m not messing.”

The screwdriver dropped from Tony’s hand, and it hit the metal workbench with a loud clang. His eyes darted to the clock on the wall. They should’ve been here by now. Tony’s voice was low when he spoke. “What are you saying, exactly?”

“The kid just never turned up. He texts when he’s going to be late, you know he’s always texting. I’ve heard nothing since he left school.”

Tony shot to his feet and started pacing around the lab, working out some of his nervous energy. “That doesn’t necessarily mean… Does it?”

There was a pause; it spoke more than words could. “I’d agree with you if it were anyone other than Peter.”

“Shit.” Tony raked a hand through his hair and bolted from the lab. “Can you search around? Check his usual patrol routes. See if there’s anything to give us a clue where he is.”

“Of course. And Tony, don’t worry, we’ll find him.” With that, Happy hung up.

Don’t worry, Tony thought, racing towards Rhodey’s room - the only other one currently occupied, damn Rogue Avengers - it’s a little late for that. His mind ran through a hundred possibilities, the kid bleeding out down some dark alleyway, tied up and thrown in the Hudson…

“Tony? What is it?” Rhodey rose from his desk, concerned eyes seeking Tony’s face for answers. Tony didn’t even remember opening the door.

“The kid,” he choked out, “Peter, he didn’t show-”

Rhodey crossed the room in three swift strides. One hand clasped on Tony’s shoulder, the other held up Tony’s chin and forced him to look Rhodey in the eye. “Let’s go find him then,” he said calmly. “What’s his last known location?” Carefully, Rhodey steered Tony out of the doorway and towards the armoury where they kept their suits.

“Uh,” Tony dragged his hand over his face and took a moment to think. “He sent me a selfie from the top of the Unisphere in Flushing. Must have been close to an hour ago.”

“We’ll start there.”

“Wait,” Tony stopped, one hand gripping Rhodey’s sleeve and halting him halfway across the lounge. “I can’t ask you to- I mean, you haven’t flown since-” Since I let you fall.

“I know, but the kid needs us.” Rhodey could read Tony like a book; he’d always been able to. It was probably the reason they became friends. He saw through the cocky, playboy exterior to find the guilt and dread inside. “This isn’t like that, okay. Listen to me, Tones, we’re going to save him.”

Tony nodded, steeling his nerve as best he could. “You’re right-”

“Boss, I-I’m afraid my protocols are getting overridden-”

“Friday?” Tony looked to the ceiling as if it made a difference. “Fri, what’s happening? Talk to me.”

Silence.

Rhodey and Tony shared a glance. “This isn’t a coincidence,” Rhodey muttered.

“Correct.”

Tony flinched from the emotionless, almost clinical voice reverberating over Friday’s speakers. Rhodey remained as stoic as ever, Tony, however, knew it was an act. 

“Let me cut to the chase. I have your little Spider, I’d love to say he’s here and unharmed… but he’s a struggler. Choices had to be made. Consequences…” Whoever it was stretched out the final word, the kid would’ve made some sort of reference to Severus Snape. It sent a shiver down Tony’s spine.

Rhodey took charge, lifting his chin and straightening his back. “Where is he.”

“Safe, for now. So long as you all behave. Follow my demands.”

Tony stepped forward, about to speak, but Rhodey silenced him with the wave of an arm. “You can’t go making demands without proof of life. Let us speak to him.”

“Oh, I’m afraid speaking is out of the question.” There was a momentary pause before one of the holo-screens on the wall flickered into life. Tony clutched the back of the sofa so hard his knuckles turned white.

“You let him go,” he snarled. On the screen, Peter grappled against the restraints holding him to a metal chair. Muted sounds came from the brown, cloth bag masking his face, his usually blue Midtown Tech hoodie stain a horrific, dark red colour. Metal chains coiled around his wrists, securing them to the arms of the chair, the same around his ankles.

“I don’t think so, not yet…” A figure strolled into view, wearing a long black jacket with the sleeves folded halfway up their arms. They hadn’t made even the slightest attempt to hide their face. “Maybe we can have a little fun, first.” They ripped the hood from Peter’s head, the kid looked around wildly, still fighting his bonds.

“Peter, kid, it’s okay. I’m here.”

Peter found the camera, eyebrows knitted together. “Mister Stark?” For the first time, Tony got a good view of Peter’s face. His eyes were wide and fearful, a gag stuffed in his mouth. Blood drained from a deep gash above his left eye, a dark, purple bruise on his right cheekbone stuck out against his unusually pale skin.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s me. I’m going to come and find you, just hold on. Hold on for me.”

The figure moved to block Tony’s view of Peter, a twisted half-smile on their face. “As you can see, alive. Now I make my demands.” Tony wanted nothing more than to dive through the screen and hug Peter in his arms. He clenched his jaw, fingers digging into the fabric of the sofa. “It’s simple. You, or the Spider. One will live, the other will die. The decision lies entirely in your hands.”

“What do you mean?” Tony spat, fear gnawing away at him from the inside out. “Me, I pick me. I die, leave the kid alone.” The muffled screams from Peter doubled, as did the sound of metal hitting metal.

The captor continued as if Tony hadn’t spoken. “You have one hour, plenty of time to make it here. I trust you’ve already tracked my location.” It was true, Friday’s protocol was to trace any and every communication made with the facility. “If you’re here, you’ve chosen for the Spider to live. If not, he dies.”

“How can I trust you? How do I know you won’t kill us both regardless?”

“I’ll give you my name. Listen up, now, little Spider. You’ll want to remember this.” Peter stopped struggling. “Avery Remington, do with that what you will. One hour, alone, no suit. Else it’s goodbye Spider.”

Tony swallowed. “You’re on.”

The feed turned to static, Friday turned it off and filled the room with a deafening silence.

“Tony?”

“Don’t,” Tony couldn’t face looking at Rhodey, he kept his back turned. “Don’t try and talk me out of this. That’s my kid, and I’d do anything-”

“I know.” Rhodey’s voice cracked. “Let me come with you. I’ll keep my distance. Peter’s going to need someone to bring him home.”

“Look after him for me. He has a habit of patrolling instead of doing his homework, so make sure he doesn’t let it pile up. Don’t let him blame himself. And-” Tony sucked in a sharp breath. “God, Pep… Tell her I never stopped loving her, I’m sorry for everything.” Tony didn’t wait for a reply, he ran to the armoury with Rhodey on his heels and jumped into the first suit he saw. Friday already had the flight plan set.

Tony’s mind wandered as his thrusters burned at full power, bringing back memories of Peter. Watching those YouTube videos, he hadn’t realised Peter was only a kid, that only came when he stepped foot in May’s apartment - Ross’ ultimatum hadn’t left time for a full background check.

When you can do the things I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen… They happen because of you.

That hug after they got back from Germany, Tony wished that hadn’t been the only time, that he hadn’t pushed Peter away, hadn’t thrown up boundaries like Oprah handed out cars. He thought he’d have all the time in the world to mentor the kid, help him grow into the hero Tony saw him to be. It turned out he barely had months.

He hoped the kid wouldn’t blame him for that when he was gone.

“Tones, we should land here. No suit, remember?”

Tony said nothing, but followed the instruction, landing heavily at the edge of a forest. Friday’s flight plan led them to a small wooden shack, barely able to hold itself up anymore. They were barely fifteen minutes from the Avengers Facility, fifteen minutes. All of this happening right under Tony’s nose, if only he’d been able to put a stop to it sooner…

“Stop it,” Rhodey stepped out of his suit. “You couldn’t have known. No one could.”

Tony, too, stepped out of his suit, though still kept his back turned to Rhodey. They’d known each other near on thirty years, and they should’ve had another thirty more. How do you say goodbye to that, how do you sum up those thirty years, the ones that will never be, into a single sentence?

Behind him, Rhodey sniffed. “Just come back to me, man. Do whatever you gotta do to come home with the kid.”

Tony broke. He turned and wrapped his arms around Rhodey, he returned the embrace with his strong arms, holding each other close as tears fell freely.

“Promise me.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Tony whispered into Rhodey’s shoulder.

“I love you.”

“You need to let me go.”

“I can’t.”

Tony paused. Swallowed. “I love you, too.” He pulled away and walked towards the shack without looking back, head held high. He’d greet death with grace and dignity.

The door to the shack practically disintegrated in Tony’s hand, coating his palm in dust and rust from the handle. Inside was dark, only a single corner illuminated, both Peter and Avery visible. Peter saw Tony first, his escape attempts doubled in effort, though they were weak. Avery’s beating was clearly weighing on his body.

“I’m here,” Tony forced his voice to remain flat. “Now let him go.”

Slowly, Avery turned to face Tony. “All in good time. Come, join us.”

Tony did as he was told, remembering Avery’s threat about behaving themselves. “Just get it done.”

Avery reached out a hand, pulling a handgun from within the folds of the jacket, turning it over in their hands. “Some interesting information came to light.” Avery’s eyes flicked up to meet Tony’s. “You didn’t come alone.”

A jolt of fear ran down Tony’s spine, there was no point denying it now. “Rhodey’s a mile off, that way.” He pointed the direction he’d walked in from. “To take Peter home, nothing else.”

“That’s against the rule.” Avery levelled the gun at Peter, the kid froze. His Bambi eyes were wider than Tony had ever seen. Tony took half a step towards him, to block the shot with his body, when Avery spoke. Raising their voice for the first time. “Move, and I shoot.” 

Tony held his hands up, returned to his spot. “Rhodey’s a mile off,” he repeated, trying to emphasise how little importance it was. “I came here alone.”

Avery stayed silent, seeming weighing up the options. Eventually, they stepped closer to Peter and pulled the gag from his mouth. “It seems, Little Spider, that we have a problem. Be honest, now, did he break the rules.” Avery stepped back, gun still aimed at Peter’s chest. “Remember, your life hangs in the balance.”

“Pete, look at me.” Peter pried his eyes away from Avery and met Tony’s. “That’s it, you’re doing so good. You know what you have to say, don’t you?” Peter’s eyes flooded with tears, Tony’s too, and he nodded. “You have to say I did everything right. Then you can go free.”

“Mister Stark,” Peter whispered. “I’m sorry I let this happen, I’m sorry I got you caught up in my mess.”

“No, you don’t need to say that. Everything’s okay.”

“Hurry, Little Spider. Yes or no, did he break the rules?”

Peter dropped his chin to his chest.

“Did he break the rules?”

Slowly, Peter lifted his head to Avery; jaw clenched, eyes lit with determination. “Yes.”

“No!” Tony roared, he dived forwards as soon as the word left Peter’s mouth. A single shot rang out, the sound filling every inch of Tony’s body. He’d never be able to forget that feeling. The explosion of pain in his chest, how his knees felt so weak it was a miracle he still stood upright, the knowledge that this was it, that everything was over…

The sight of blood steadily flowing from Peter’s chest and pooling in his lap. His scream of pain, every ragged breath he sucked in through gritted teeth. The colour drained from Peter’s face, Tony knelt beside his chair and cupped a hand to his cheek. 

“Hold on, for me. Please, Peter, hold on.”

Somewhere, Avery shuffled around. There was a loud click, and all Peter’s restrains released simultaneously. He crumpled into Tony’s arms, and Tony cradled him, gently brushing a curl of hair from his bloodied face, one hand clamped down on the seeping wound over his heart. That hand stained red the second he placed it there.

“I’m so-rry,” Peter whispered, blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, bright red against his stark white skin.

“Shh,” Tony hummed, not caring as tears slipped down his cheeks. “I’ve got you. I’m going to get you out of here. Stay with me, can you do that?”

Peter’s body gave an involuntary spasm, Tony held him tighter. “My fa-ault, don’t blame y-yourself.”

Despite everything, Tony laughed. A wet chuckle. “You know me too well, kid.”

Peter smiled, his eyes slipping closed. “I’ll be okay.”

“Me too.” It was a lie, but Tony would’ve said anything at that moment if it gave the kid even an ounce of ease. Peter fell limp in his arms. “Pete,” Tony tapped his cheek gently. “Kid, come on. Don’t mess with me.” He shook Peter’s body.

Nothing.

“No,” Tony whispered, a fresh wave of tears tracking down his face as he folded protectively over Peter’s body hand hugging him close. “No, please. No...” 

The ghost of Peter’s grin still rested on his face. Even in death, Peter smiled.

“I thought I’d feel something.” Avery stood over the pair on the floor, looking down with an utterly emotionless face. “I thought I’d feel… completed. The job is done, after all.”

Tony laid Peter down as gently as possible, not wanting to disturb his sleep, and got to his feet. Avery observed each of his movements, head tipped to the side.

“What does it feel like, do you think? Death?” Avery nodded at Tony. “You came close. How could it feel to lose everything? Feel it all just… slipping away.”

“I’ll show you how it feels,” Tony growled, hands balled into fists and eyes burning with hatred, rage, pain. With grief. “You can count on that.” He didn’t need his suit to make Avery suffer.

[uglymanchronicles]

Ugly Man Chronicles: Reignition Book 2 Chapter 1: I Woke Up Like This

HEY GUESS WHO’S BACK

It’s time for Book 2: Friends Will Be Friends.  

“Cover art” by @steveman

Pain has a way of fading from the forefront of your mind when you’ve been feeling it long enough, becoming a sort of discordant background noise; still present enough to make every other experience difficult and miserable while not being the focus itself.

What Evan was feeling wasn’t that. His missing eye, his severed fingers, his masticated ankle and now his left tit were all parts of a very noisy argument, each agony clawing at and clambering over the others to try to be the loudest voice in the room.

His stomach felt nearly concave. The signals from the few uninjured parts of him were so fuzzy and indistinct that he might as well have had two tin cans and a piece of twine for a nervous system. He could barely breathe. His throat felt like it was the size of a swizzle stick. His face burned from where his own gore had dried on his skin, combined with the grit of… sand?

He opened his eye just in time for a shovelful of more sand to hit him directly in the face. He sat up, coughing and moaning.

“Shitting dicks!”

Evan turned his head towards the unusual exclamation. Eyepatch was standing a couple of feet from him, a shovel rattling to rest at his feet.

Evan tried to take in his surroundings. It was still dark. He was outside. There were stars in the sky but a very faint hint of pink on the horizon. He couldn’t see a road. His Volkswagen was parked about thirty feet away. There was very little vegetation. He was sitting in a hole a couple of feet deep, half-covered with sand and dry dirt.

“You call this a grave?”

That was what he meant to say, but what came out of his tight, sticky-dry throat was something like “Yyyccchhhggggghhh.”

Evan planted his hands on the sides of the grave and pushed himself up. He still couldn’t move his right foot and his fingers were still gone, but at least he was alive. He managed to drag himself out of the grave and onto his left foot, then held out his hand toward Eyepatch. “Ksss.”

His would-be killer gawked at him. “What?”

“KSSS!” Evan wheezed emphatically, gesturing at his car. “KRR KSS!”

“Oh. Oh!”

Eyepatch fumbled in his pockets, then tossed Evan a familiar, clinking mass. Evan would have caught it, but the bundle slipped through the gap where his fingers were supposed to be and clattered into the dusty dirt. Evan glared at Eyepatch, who hissed awkwardly through his teeth. Grumbling, Evan bent down and retrieved the keys, then hop/stumbled towards his car and opened the trunk. Under the fold-out workbench, he found a blessedly full gallon jug of water. Popping the lid off, he tilted it back and began to guzzle it down. Only a little more than half was actually going in his mouth, but the overflow washing off some of the blood and sand felt good. After the jug was nearly empty, Evan reached back into the trunk and came up with a handful of five-inch-long protein bars, which he tore open with his teeth and took bites out of as many as he could at once. Then he sat down on the bumper and chewed.

There was a period of several minutes where nothing was said or done, except for Eyepatch idly kicking the dirt as he looked on while Evan grunted and noisily devoured a few thousand calories in an almost primal fashion.

Evan burp-retched after the eighth bar, wincing as the pain in his wounds began to play itself in reverse. Food. It’s powered by calories, of course. How… pedestrian,he thought, grumpily.

“So,” he said, finally, causing Eyepatch to jump, “are we done?” “Huh?”

“You’re not gonna try to kill me again, right?”

Eyepatch sheepishly exhaled out of the side of his lips. “Nnno. I pretty much confirmed that you’re not who I thought you were.”

“What gave it away?”

“Well, the wallet full of fake IDs—very convincing ones, by the way, remind me to ask who made them—didn’t do much to dissuade my ‘hired goon’ theory, but then I saw what you wrote on the Finder’s Folly,” Eyepatch said, slowly walking around the grave. “Plus, the stuffed giraffe sorta hinted at someone who doesn’t kill people for fun.”

Evan’s chest tightened. “What did you do with Mr. Nex?” he asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.

To his credit, Eyepatch at least attempted to muffle the snort. He crouched down by the grave and reached into the dirt, coming up with a dirty but intact floppy yellow bundle of cloth. Somewhat tentatively, he walked towards Evan, holding the stuffed animal out in front of him like a man reaching out to pet a dog he’s not entirely convinced is friendly.

Evan looked him over for a moment. In the light, he… well, he didn’t look much different. He was wiry and weatherbeaten, like a well-seasoned scarecrow. He carried himself with a sense of potential energy, like he was constantly about to make a sudden move, but he didn’t seem particularly tense. His hair was a medium brown that mixed with some gray around his temples, with a mustache-less goatee and thin eyebrows to match. Stubble connected his facial hair to his sideburns, but Evan couldn’t tell if that was a styling decision or a lack thereof.

“I figured it only made sense to bury him with you. Seemed like the least I could do, considerin’.”

“That’s… almost sweet. Thank you, I guess.”

Evan slowly reached up and took Mr. Nex from him, tucking the giraffe under his arm. A moment later, he reached back into the trunk for another, smaller bottle of water. Eyepatch slowly sidestepped until he was at the other end of the bumper, then sat down, keeping his eye on Evan the whole time. Eventually, he spoke.

“…this is pretty awkward.”

Evan swallowed and chuckled darkly. “I’m pretty sure this is something on a whole other spectrum of socially uncomfortable,” he said. He flexed his right foot; the tendon seemed to be back to a functional level, and he was starting to be able to discern light out of his left eye. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to have my fingers, would you?”

Eyepatch stood up and patted his pockets in turn, pausing when he reached his right side. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a bloody handkerchief wrapped around something. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

“Didn’t think it was good to leave obvious evidence behind.”

“Shit, we left that room a mess.”

“Don’t worry about it, I gave the manager a couple thousand to cover it when I checked you out.”

“Decent of you.”

“Well, it was on your card.”

“Bastard,” Evan muttered, though there wasn’t much actual vitriol behind it. He unwrapped the fingers, comparing them to the stumps. After rinsing off the raw, gooey spots with water, he held the fingers against the aching wounds. Neither man spoke for nearly a minute, then Evan pulled his right hand away and flexed his left hand into a fist.

Eyepatch whistled. “Damn, simple as that? Good as new?”

“They kinda feel like they’re asleep, but I think they’ll be good soon.”

“How come you can do that?”

“It’s not really a ‘can do’ thing, it just happens. No idea. I’m still learning.”

“Is your nipple gonna grow back?”

Evan looked down at his left pec. Where there had been a pert pierced nipple was now a sunburst of scar tissue. He poked at it, cautiously. There was no titillating tingle, only the blunt yes/no sensation of pressure on his skin. “God damn it!”

“What the hell’s up with your tits, anyway? You got some kind of hormone imbalance? I’ve seen chicks with implants smaller—”

“It’s all fucking muscle, okay? I’m just built thick! My whole family is!”

“Huh. You got a sister?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Evan bit into another protein bar. All things considered, he’d come out of the whole encounter mostly intact—he could basically see out of his left eye by now—but the loss of his nipple really bothered him for reasons he was embarrassed to think about. So rather than think about it, he decided to talk.

“So who are you, anyway?”

Eyepatch seemed to consider the question for longer than necessary, but eventually he said, “Titus. My name’s Titus.”

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, Titus, but nice meetings don’t usually involve a shallow grave.”

“Hey, that grave was plenty deep for the circumstances, thank you very much. It’s harder to bury a guy in sand than you’d think,” Titus said, a hint of wounded pride in his voice. “Plus, after I dragged your heavy ass out here—”

“In my car.”

“…in your car, because I drive a motorcycle, two feet is all I really had the energy to manage.” Titus winced and put his hand to his left side. “Plus, I think you bruised a couple of my ribs.”

“You fuckin’ bit pieces off me, ripped out my eye, and shot me with my own gun. You got off easy.”

“I don’t patch back together like some kinda… meat machine, though. And don’t forget how you squashed my fuckin’ nuts.”

“Oh, sorry, next time I’m yanked out of the time stream I’ll think of a more gentle way to deal with it,” Evan snapped.

That seemed to shut Titus up for a moment. He stared at the sand for a little while, then asked, “So what’s your name?”

“Well, you said you saw all my IDs. One of them’s real.”

“The card I paid with said ‘Evander G. Abrams’ but that’s a fake name if I’ve ever heard one. I’m guessing… ‘Babak Ervin’.”

Evan burst out laughing. “Oh man, I hardly ever use that one! You had it right the first time.”

“Seriously? But it’s such a…”

“White name?”

“That’s not what I was gonna say, but since you brought it up, yeah, kinda, unless you count Holyfield. What the hell ethnicity are you, anyway?”

“Wow, you don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“I just watched a man I thought I wrongfully killed climb out of a grave and piece himself back together. You’ll have to excuse me being a bit indelicate.”

“You don’t strike me as that type who’s ever delicate.”

“Hey, fuck you, pal. This whole thing ain’t been a picnic for me, either. So your name really is Evander?”

“I just go by Evan.”

“Fine then, Evan it is.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

“Okay.”

“Alright.”

“…do you hear that? Sounds like an engine.”

Titus cocked his head, then froze. “Oh shit.”

“What?”

Titus jumped off the bumper. “We gotta get outta here. Now! Close the trunk!”

Evan stood up, mainly to keep Titus from closing the trunk on him. “What’s going on?”

“Some very unpleasant people are on their way! Oh shit, you can see them, look!” Titus pointed towards the horizon. In the near-dawn almost-light, Evan thought he could see a plume of dust moving their way. “Get the keys and let’s go!”

“Okay, okay! You’re bossy for someone who just killed me,” Evan grumbled, walking around to the driver’s side.

“Well clearly it wasn’t that big of a fucking deal, so quit your bitching and drive or we’re both gonna be cactus food!”

“Jeeeesus,” Evan muttered, getting into the car. “Augh, you fucked with the seat and the mirrors? Seriously?”

“START THE FUCKING ENGINE.” Evan jammed the key in, cranked it, put the car in gear, and pressed the gas. “What way’s the quickest way to the… uh-oh.”

Skrrrrrr. Vzzzzzzz. Ssskrrrrt.

“Come on! Why aren’t we moving?!”

“Because you drove a VW Bug God-knows-how-far into the fucking Mojave! We sunk into the sand! I can’t get traction!”

“Aren’t Bugs off-roaders? I thought these things were supposed to be good rally cars!”

“The classic ones, yes, and if they’re kitted that way, yes! I don’t even drive this thing in the winter in central Ohio!”

“Well do something!” Titus sounded like he was on the edge of panic. Evan swung his door open. “Get behind the wheel. I’ll push. And if you leave me…”

“I’m not gonna, Christ! Just do it!” Titus shouted, clambering into the driver’s seat.  Evan crouched down behind the Bug and leaned his back against it, digging his heels into the sand. He threw his weight against it as Titus floored the gas, but all that got him was his calves sandblasted by the spinning wheels.

“Okay okay okay, stop stop stop!” Evan yelled after two knee-straining, back-breaking minutes of pushing and listening to his engine whine. “This isn’t working! We gotta try something else!”

“Well what do you suggest?” Titus screamed from the driver’s seat, nearly hysterical. “We have a rapidly shrinking window of time within which it is okay to be here!”

“Who are these guys, anyway?” Evan asked, squinting at the five—he could make them out clearly now—figures rapidly approaching them.  He could hear the roar of engines.  This didn’t make him feel a particularly strong sense of urgency—Maybe he was tired. Maybe he’d already subconsciously decided they weren’t going to get out of there in time.

Or maybe a small, sadistic part of him was enjoying watching the man who’d mutilated him grow more and more frantic.

“The Billiards MC! A bunch of drug-running shithead bikers! Real vicious bastards!” Titus yelled, flinging open the car door and nearly falling out. He crouched by the car’s forward fender, drawing his pistol and glancing nervously over the hood.

“And they’re coming for us why?” Evan asked, slowly stepping around the front of the car. The roar of the motorcycle engines was growing louder.

“It’s a long story, but the Cliff Notes version is I blew up their meth lab.”

“Huh. Lot of that going around lately,” Evan said absently. “So you don’t think you can take them?”

“Jesus Christ, no! Even with my power I won’t be able to get far enough away to keep them from fillin’ me fulla holes! You gotta do something!”

Evan had already intended to, but that little spiteful corner of his soul wanted to make Titus sweat a little more. “And why is that?”

“Because I can give you what you’re looking for!” Titus yelled, anger edging out the fear in his voice. “’Take me to a friend who can teach me about magic’! That’s what you wrote on that damn lamp! That’s me! I know some shit! I can teach you!”

‘A friend’? That’s what that translated to?  Evan grinned. “Well, hell, all right then! I guess we have an—”

The bullet smacked into his left shoulder and went clear through. He could see the bikers now, and it turned out one of them as actually two—and the rider was sighting down a rifle over the driver’s shoulder. Mostly for effect, Evan grabbed his already-healing shoulder and dove behind the car next to Titus. “Okay, so—these guys don’t have some kind of pool-themed power set, do they?”

“What? No! No, that’s stupid! No, they’ll all just normies with guns and knives!  Their founder’s name is William Yard!  Bill Yard! Billiards!”

Evan’s face went slack. “That’s… that’s actually kinda clever,” he said, grudgingly. “So are they going to try to shake you down, or are they ‘kill on sight’ mad at you?”

Titus peeked up through the driver’s side window. “Good question… I put a couple of their guys in traction and stole a couple hundred thousand bucks in addition to the whole ‘blowing up the lab’ thing…”

“A ‘couple hundred’ thousand?!”

“Yeah, and that’s not easy as it sounds, either. You know how much cash that is, especially when it’s in small bills? I had to balance three duffel bags on my bike and--”

“Sorry to interrupt, but that’s not really pertinent right now!” Evan hissed. “Should we—well, you start shooting now?”

“They’re probably gonna try to get me to give back the money, but that’s already long gone.” Titus exhaled heavily and sat back against the door. “Look, maybe if we go out there you can at least keep them from surrounding us completely. I’ll try to talk to them, but I’m guessing that’s gonna go to shit pretty quick. After that it’s up to you, okay?”

“Alright, fine. Just get clear and I’ll do my best. Put the gun away and let’s get out there.” --------------- The plan worked, insofar as there was an actual plan. When Titus and Evan stood up and walked around the car with their hands up (Evan still holding his ‘wound’), the bikers stopped in a semicircle around them instead of completely encircling them. His hands still raised, Titus stepped forward to, as he’d put it, ‘work my magic’.

“Heeeyyyy, guys! Great timing! I was just—” Blam-kssh!

Evan jerked forward, almost forgetting that he was supposed to be wounded. “…you did not just shoot my fucking window out, you son of a—"

“Hey-hey-hey whoa whoa whoa!” Titus cut in, holding a hand out in front of Evan. “There’s no need for any of that, 8-Ball, we can come to—”

“Where’s our fucking money, Finnegan?” 8-Ball said, his gravelly voice oddly quiet. He seemed to Evan to be the leader of this little band, and he looked for all the world like “Biker #1” right out of central casting. He was heavyset, bordering on fat, but was obviously packing some serious muscle under his leathers and huge bushy beard in addition to the .44 that was smoking in his hand. His namesake, set in the mouth of a fanged, fiery-eyed skull, was tattooed on the front of his bare belly, which Evan had to admit was a pretty striking commitment to a personal aesthetic.

“I’m getting to that, I’m getting to that!” Titus said, pleadingly. “My friend here, he can cover it—”

Evan whipped his head towards Titus, clenching his teeth and glaring. “—here, Evan, let me introduce you to the gang…”

Titus was doing something with his eye. He seemed to be gesturing towards each of the bikers with rapidly movements. Look at them.

Evan decided to play along and tried to size up the bikers without making it obvious that he was trying to calculate the best way to hurt each of them.

“There’s Stick…”

A skinny, pimply guy. Probably the new kid. His bike was too clean, his jacket too shiny, and he didn’t even have a gun; he was holding a Louisville Slugger that looked like it’d never even been used to hit a baseball.

“…Felt…”

A bit on the short side, but nearly as broad as Evan at the shoulder. His curly, short-cropped hair blended into his beard, his chest hair, and as far as Evan could tell, his back hair. He was gripping some kind of jerry-rigged pump-action sawn-off that looked almost as likely to hurt him as whoever it was pointed at.

“…I think that’s English under there…”

Definitely the odd man out. Full racing suit and a mirror-visored helmet. Even his—their? Evan couldn’t even tell—bike was unusual. While the rest of the Billiards rode some variation on the theme of a chopper, English’s bike was a sleek-profiled racer. They were holding some kind of machine pistol in one hand and were idly twirling a switchblade in the other.

“…you’ve already met 8-Ball, and that’s Scratch there with him…”

If 8-Ball was a cookie-cutter biker extra, then Scratch was a perfect “white trash girlfriend”. She was the one who’d shot Evan earlier, and was still holding her rifle as though she intended to swing it up and fire it at any second. She was a very unhealthy-looking skinny, with damaged, stringy hair, prematurely wrinkling skin, and less than an optimal number of teeth. She seemed to be trying to make up for that number in visible track marks and scabs, though. She was open-mouth chewing something that Evan couldn’t identify and was trying very hard not to think about.

“…and hey, who could forget Pockets?”The last member was wearing an open face helmet with goggles and a leather vest over what looked a military flight suit sewn with a truly Liefeldian number of pouches. Evan supposed they were full of spare magazines for the two Glocks he was holding, because he was making clinking noises whenever he shifted his weight.

“…now that we’re all introduced, why don’t I let you guys work out with Evan how you’re going to get your money back, with interest?”

“He ain’t even got clothes,” Stick sneered. This was true; Evan was still in his now blood-splattered heart-print boxers.  “He ain’t got the money.”

“Not on him right now, obviously!” Titus snapped. Evan could see him starting to sweat and his fingers were beginning to twitch. “Look, just let us get back to town and—”

“And nothin’,” 8-Ball rumbled. “If your boyfriend really has the money, well,” he raised his gun again, “we can just dig through his car after he’s dead.” There was a chorus of slides cocking and safeties releasing. Titus made a tch sound.“Well, if that’s how it’s gonna go,” he said, spreading his hands to the side, lowering his head, and freezing. Evan watched intently, eyes wide. Was he about to reveal some other magic?Titus raised his head and grinning at 8-Ball. “Scratch said mine’s bigger.”

Scratch gasped and started to stammer, 8-Ball turned to her with a look of hurt and anger on his face, and for a second, the whole gang was looking away from Titus. In that instant, he vanished. Less than a second later, Evan heard an ‘oof’ from the direction of the grave he’d occupied just half an hour before. Evan wasn’t sure whether to be amused or angry before 8-Ball yelled, “Kill these motherfuckers!”

“Not in front of my fucking caaaarrrrrr-----”

Protect the parts that will incapacitate you if they take too much damage, Evan thought, crossing his elbows in front of his chest and ducking his head behind his forearms. A distressing number of bullets were missing him and hitting his beloved Bug, but there was plenty of lead to go around. The noise was almost worse than the actual pain of getting shot, but Evan quickly noticed, to his disquiet and disgust, that he could tell who hit him by the shape of the bullets punching into his flesh.

Most of the hits were to his abdomen and thighs; his arms turned out to be sturdy enough to keep any lead from getting to his brain or heart, but a well-aimed shot from Scratch blew off a non-trivial chunk of his skull and made both his ears and eyes ring. And sometime during the hail of gunfire, Evan’s favorite boxers were torn from his body, fluttering limply to the ground as a pile of sad, defeated-looking rags.

Then, as the cacophony started to die down, one last blast from Felt’s shotgun knocked Evan’s left leg out from under him and he fell face-first into the dirt.

“Did we get him?”

“How the fuck’s he still movin’?”

“Christ, you see the size of his pecker?”

Evan pushed himself up on his forearms. He hurt, yes, but he was also angry. Angry that his first actual lead had been such a pain in the ass. Angry that he’d lost his boxers and his nipple. Angry that he’d woken up in a fucking hole in the ground and now had to deal with the problems of the guy who’d put him in it. Angry that his dick was getting scraped up from dragging on the sand.

“Go finish ‘im off, Stick.”

Evan raised his head to see that scrawny pimply prick walking towards him, smacking that pristine bat against his bony palm. Evan just knew he was going to say something fucking stupid.

“Eenie, meenie, miney—”

Stick’s obnoxious, outdated, barely-situationally-appropriate pop-culture reference was interrupted as Evan’s right hand swung up and clenched around his balls.

Let us step back for a moment and examine Evan’s fighting capabilities. He was not, at this point in his ‘career’, a martial artist. He was, however, a multi-faceted athlete. From boxing to cross-country running to gymnastics to baseball to wrestling to swimming to soccer to ballet to pole dancing, he had, since he was very young, explored what his body was capable of and refined his control over it until he was certain he could rise to any physical challenge. He was fast, precise, and flexible, and his recent bulking had only added to what he could do with his fine-tuned control over his body.

He was also the carrier of a deep, uncomfortably intense anger. And that, coupled with basic medical training from night classes studying to be an EMT, meant he had spent a lot of frustrated, sleepless nights thinking of very particular and very precise hypothetical methods of hurting people.

And now he had a little shithead’s nuts in his hand, and punchy, angry music playing in his head.

I can feel it on the back of my tongue, all of the words, getting trapped in my lungs

Stick screamed. Evan screamed. And then Evan yanked downward, tearing away a handful of denim and bloody flesh. As Stick folded up, Evan launched himself upwards, swinging his still-clenched fist up into the shrieking kid’s stomach. Then, now on his feet, he grabbed Stick’s sorry excuse for a ponytail, yanked his head back, and delivered a straight-armed downward punch across his jaw, sending him into the dirt in a gurgling, squirming heap.

Heavy like a stone, waiting for the river to run

Evan dug the balls of his feet into the sand and launched himself towards Pockets, who just happened to be the closest biker standing. The bepouched man was struggling to retrieve a fresh magazine for one of his pistols, but his hands were shaking violently. He screamed in terror as Evan bore down on him, head down and kicking up dust like a charging cartoon bull.

With all that metal he's wearing, it’ll be hard to land an incapacitating blow from a standing position. Get him on the ground.

Evan hit Pockets's waist with his shoulder and wrapped his arms around him, lifting the screaming man easily into the air. Still running, he whipped his passenger backwards, then swung their combined weights forwards, knocking the wind noisily from Pockets and winding up on top of him.

I wanna LASH OUT I wanna LET IT OUT

Pockets was screaming for help now, but Evan was hitting his stride and let the momentum of his own personal violence carry him seamlessly into his next move. With his left hand, he grabbed Pockets's helmet and yanked his head to the side, and brought his right elbow down hard where the neck joined the shoulder. Pockets made a wheezing sound, and Evan was back on his feet before he even went slack.

‘Cuz I can feel it on the back of my tongue, on the back of my tongue

Felt was closest, now, and had recovered from the shock of Stick's barehanded castration enough to start attempting to do something about the naked madman brutalizing his fellows with his bare hands. Unfortunately, he decided his best move was to try to load another shell into his shotgun as Evan rushed at him.

His core’s really thick and his center of gravity is low. I probably won’t be able to knock him down easily and body blows won’t cut it. Alley-oop.

Oh, hard to hold this fire inside me

Felt finally slid the shell home and cocked his shotgun, but by time he looked up, Evan was no longer on the ground. He’d swung his left leg forward and up and over across his body, launching himself into the air and twisting around his own vertical axis. By the time Felt realized what was happening, Evan’s right leg had swung around and his right heel hit Felt right in the temple. The hirsute man’s eyes glazed over and he slumped sideways to the ground while Evan landed on all fours and pushed off again, scrabbling at the dirt with his fingers as he lunged along the ground at surprising (to himself, at least) speed.

English stood between Evan and 8-Ball and Scratch. With that full-body suit and that helmet, they’ll be too hard to drop quickly. I’ll save you for later.

Oh, I know, sometimes it’s frightening

Evan hit English in the thighs with his shoulders and set them tumbling over him as he scrambled towards the uncouth couple. To his credit, 8-Ball stepped protectively in front of Scratch. Evan stopped his scuttling, planted his hands in the sand, and swung his legs around. He pointed his toes and kicked 8-Ball in the thigh, but the big man merely grunted angrily and grabbed Evan by the ankle. But as he hauled Evan’s leg upwards, Evan’s other leg came up with it and hooked around the back of 8-Ball’s head. Then Evan tensed his abs, swung himself upwards, and punched 8-Ball square in the face.

Hard to hold this fire inside me

8-Ball let out a yell and released Evan’s ankle, and the Ugly Man brought his other leg around the biker’s neck. He swung himself up further and started to rain blows down on 8-Ball’s scalp as the big man staggered backwards. The sand slipped under 8-Ball’s heels and he went down under the force of Evan’s next punch, but as he fell he managed to wedge an arm up between Evan’s leg and his own face. By the time they hit the dirt, 8-Ball had thrown his considerable weight to the side and swung Evan beneath him, pinning Evan’s thigh to the ground with one beefy forearm. Then he lunged up Evan’s chest and wrapped his hands around his throat.

“You ugly donkey-dicked motherfucker, you’re gonna pay for what you did to my boys—” 8-Ball’s walnut-knuckled fingers were ridiculously strong. Evan grabbed at the callused thumbs, trying to pry the hands off his throat, but 8-Ball’s considerable weight and strength were making it difficult to get any leverage. The two men struggled and grunted and swore at each other until a shadow fell over them.

Evan jerked his head to the side, but the bullet came close enough to his cheek to spray it painfully with flying dirt. 8-Ball looked up and yelled something at Scratch, who was trying to get her rifle lined up with Evan’s forehead. Evan could only guess at what they were screaming at each other, given that all he could hear in the wake of the gunshot was a high-pitched whine, but 8-Ball’s attention was momentarily diverted.

Oh, I know it’s not really like me to

Evan tucked his knees up, braced his feet under 8-Ball’s prodigious gut, and pushed. For a moment, the dawn sky was obscured by 8-Ball’s eponymous tattoo, then there was a brief scream, an oof, and a thud.

Evan got to his knees to see 8-Ball doing the same, panicking over Scratch’s limp form. She looked about as well as you’d expect a 120-pound woman to look after she’d just had a 300-pound man tossed onto her. Her head lolled around on her shoulders as 8-Ball shook her gently, pleading for her to come around. Then Evan, in a move he would later consider to be one of his most heartless, jumped on 8-Ball’s back and slung his arm around his neck.

LASH OUT

8-Ball tried to reach over his shoulders to claw at Evan’s face; Evan, meanwhile, was trying to remember how long you could keep someone in a rear naked choke without actually killing them. After a few seconds that seemed to take several hours, 8-Ball’s blunt fingers stopped scrabbling at Evan’s face and he went slack. Evan breathed a sigh of relief and let up on the pressure.

His shoulder exploded with a hot, wet pain that snaked down his right arm like molten lead. An urgent, insistent pain. It actually hurts! Does that mean I’m already running out of gas?

English’s switchblade was sticking out of his back.  It clearly hadn’t had the effect the mystery biker had in mind, because they jerked back as Evan surged to his feet, snarling. His left hand shot out and grabbed the lapel of English’s racing suit.

I can feel the cork come out of the bottle

And then he yanked hard and swung his head forward.

I can feel the cork come out of the bottle

Again. A spiderweb of cracks formed on English’s mirrored visor.

I can feel the cork come out of the bottle

Again. Now there were more cracks than solid plastic.

I CAN FEEL THE CORK COME OUT OF THE BOTTLE

The knife popped out of Evan’s shoulder as he drew his fist back.

LASH OUT

English’s visor shattered under the force of Evan’s punch, and, from the sound of it, so did their nose. They collapsed in a heap as Evan released his grip. And then it was over. Evan stood in the breaking dawn, naked, covered in blood, muscles bulging and chest heaving from exertion, surrounded by prone and groaning, and in one case, weakly screaming, figures. He’d won. “Yes! Yesyesyesyes!” he hissed to himself, pumping his arms and shaking his hips, dancing to the fading music inside his head. He froze when he glanced up and saw Titus watching him over the edge of what was formerly his grave. Evan cleared his throat, absently brushed some of the sand off himself, and walked over.

“There. It’s done. Can we go?”

Titus sat up. “That was some ugly fuckin’ poetry in motion, my friend,” he said, taking Evan’s hand and pulling himself out of the grave. “So where do we go from here? Cap ‘em all, dig a few more of these babies? Ooh, think we can get ‘em to dig their own?”

“No,” Evan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Get their guns and let’s get out of here. I think we—”

He was cut off by another long, weak scream from Stick, who was on his knees with his forehead pressed to the ground, hands clamped around his groin.

Evan sighed again. “Or I suppose I should do the good guy thing… still, get their guns and make sure none of them—Goddammit, dude, stop staring at my crotch,” he muttered, blushing.

Titus clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Jesus, some guys have all the luck.” Evan fixed him with a withering gaze, scars wiggling around his face as he pursed his lips. “Most of the luck,” Titus corrected himself.

---------

“Stop crying, you big fucking baby,” Evan said. “I didn’t even damage your testicles; I just tore the skin on your scrotum. It’ll be fine. Maybe stay off your bike for a couple days. Now bite down on that cloth, this disinfectant spray is going to sting something fierce.”

Titus smiled contentedly at the sound of Stick’s muffled scream, then turned back to Scratch, gesturing with his gun. “Hand it over.”

Scratch, still acting slightly dazed (though Titus wasn’t sure if this was as a result of the fight or just whatever she’d chosen to inhale that morning), clutched the rifle to her chest. “No way! This belonged to my daddy!”

“No, it belonged to my daddy and you stole it from me, you tweaking skank,” Titus said, yanking the rifle away from the pouting Scratch. He gave the gun a cursory inspection, nodded to himself, and looked around.

The Billiards MC were sitting together in the dirt, holding cold packs to various injuries and looking sheepish. Evan had retrieved a spare pair of shorts, to everyone’s relief, and had seen to each of their injuries with an efficient, if not entirely sympathetic, manner. He assured them, with an air of faint menace, that nothing he did would be permanent beyond a few scars. Their weapons, on the other hand, were sitting in a pile several yards away. On the other side of Titus, who now had several guns about his person and a mean look in his eye.

“Alright, he’ll live, and, regrettably, probably be able to reproduce,” Evan said briskly, wiping some blood and other fluids off his hands as he strode away from Stick’s prone form. “Now… what are we going to do about the rest of you?”

The Billiards regarded him uneasily. Titus started whistling tunelessly, spinning a handgun backwards and forwards in his fingers. Evan stared off into the middle distance for a moment, lips pursed to the side, and then snapped his fingers and jogged back to the Bug.  He returned with a worn black duffel bag and tossed it in front of 8-Ball. It went whumpf. “I think that should cover the damages Mr… Finnegan? Caused you,” he said, mildly.

“What?” Titus shouted, staring at Evan with his mouth open, “you’re paying them?!”

“Call it an exchange. Or maybe it's just a ‘I don’t want this stuff in my car’.”

8-Ball was cautiously unzipping the bag, as if he thought it might explode. Once the zipper was open enough for him to peer in, he very reluctantly leaned over the hole and peered inside. Then he swore loudly.

“Holy shit! This—” He unzipped the bag the rest of the way, hauling out plastic-wrapped bricks of powdery white substance. “—this is—holy shit,” he finished, stupefied. “Pockets, check this shit.”

Pockets crawled forward and produced a small knife from one of his namesakes, deftly slitting one of the packages open. Then, with the precision and care of a watchmaker, he produced several inexplicably unbroken test tubes, petri dishes, and a handful of tiny vials of varying colors from his pockets and began arranging them in the dirt.  Titus and Evan shared a look that said: how is this the weirdest part of today?

After a few minutes of things foaming and fizzing and changing color, 8-Ball spoke up. “So what’s it cut with? It better not be fentanyl or we’re gonna have a problem. Selling it. Because that ain’t ethical,” he added hastily as Evan’s knuckles cracked like shifting gravel.

“…nothing.” Patches said, in the hushed tones of a lepidopterist finding an extinct butterfly in his backyard. “It’s… pure.”

“No fuckin’ way,” 8-Ball and Titus said at the same time.

Pockets dipped his finger in the powder and rubbed some on his gums. “Bluh… yeap. Whoa. But this can’t be coke. There’s too much here, it’s… you know what, fuck it.” And then he sprinkled some on the back of his hand and inhaled deeply.

Five minutes later, Evan and 8-Ball managed to get ahold of him and wrestle him to the ground. Pockets was vibrating slightly and cheering and laughing at nothing, though it was slightly muffled because Felt was sitting on his back.

“Well, uh, that’s good enough for me,” 8-Ball said, wiping his forehead. “And we can just have it? You sure?”

“Yeah,” Evan panted, bent double. “Get it out of here. Just don’t do anything stupid with it.”

“Where’d ya even get it?”

“Took it off a gang I beat up in Albuquerque.”

“Wait, that… that wudn’t the Five-Tens, was it?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit, we heard they basically broke up a couple days ago! All their guys are in jail or the hospital! Everyone said it had to be rival dealers, but nobody died! I heard some of ‘em were sayin’…”

8-Ball trailed off, staring at Evan with a fresh look of awe and horror. “Yer him. Yer the Ugly Man.”

Evan said nothing. He merely grinned. It was a good menacing grin; he’d spent a few hours practicing it in the mirror. The key was the slow parting of the lips, then the widening; the startlingly white and straight teeth behind the split burnt umber lips, the way his jaw didn’t quite fit together properly, the way the scars seemed to squirm around his face like a nest of worms, the way the edges of his mouth threatened to engulf his ears—it was a masterpiece. That, combined with a slight tilt of the head to drop his eyes into the shadow of his brows and a quiet, guttural chuckle, created a total effect that seemed to dip Evan’s face into the uncanny valley.

8-Ball shuddered. “Jesus. They… we thought they was just all high outta their minds! We didn’t think you was real!”

“Oh, I’m real, all right,” Evan growled, the grin snapping back to a scowl as he grabbed 8-Ball’s jacket. “Now you’re gonna take that coke, and you’re gonna do whatever you want with it, and you’re gonna leave us alone. I don’t give a shit if you sell drugs to people completely capable of making their own bad decisions. But here’s the thing—I’m gonna keep my ears open, and if I ever hear about you shlubs extorting a grieving family like the Five-Tens did I will come down upon you like the wrath of the worst god you can think of. Do-I-make-myself-clear?” 8-Ball managed to nod.

“Good. Now get the hell out of here and spread the word,” Evan said, pushing him away. “Oh, uh… and help me get my car out of the sand.” ---------------------- “Man, you are something fucking else,” Titus laughed dryly. “Trading them drugs you stole off of some other scumbags so they’d stop fucking with me. Of course, beating the shit out of them first probably helped.”

Evan made a slight exhalation of acknowledgement, keeping his eyes on the road.

“So I was thinking—I think we can work something out. You scratch my back, etcetera? I help you find out the things you want to know, you help me with some of the more… hands-on aspects of my work?”

“You mean catch more bullets for you?”

“That might come into play, yes,” Titus admitted, hesitantly, “but think about it—without me you’re just gonna be bumbling around until you trip over something weird, or worse, using dumb cursed crap to try to find out answers and maybe tearing a hole in the fabric of reality in the process.”

“Can that actually happen?”

“See, this is what I mean. You’ve got questions, I’ve got… well, we’ll see what I’ve got. More than you’ve got right now, that’s what matters. We can make this work, kid.”

Evan sighed inwardly. It was a lead. And Titus seemed like he could be at least interesting to be around; he’d just have to make sure to keep an eye on his wallet.

“Let’s get something to eat and talk it over. Healing makes me hungry.”

“There you go! That’s the spirit.”

They drove in silence for a little while longer, only minutes away from the edge of town. Evan started to relax. Maybe this could work.

“Oh yeah, I forgot to ask… what the hell’s wrong with your dick?”

Evan groaned. Or maybe not.

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas: Child of Fate (Parts 1 and 2)

Also on AO3!

TL;DR:

Chosen by the Fates for his many monumental futures, Izuku is gifted a 'quirk' at the age of 5. The ability to see and influence the strings of fate.

He will become a Hero.

But fate does not smile upon a hero any more than it smiles upon a worm.

basically, the 3 fates from norse myths are still kicking

w all the crazy shit that's gone on since the rise of quirks, fates are constantly getting harder and harder to predict or manipulate so they are kinda out of a job

so they say "fuck it, lets throw our hat in the ring" and decide to pick a "champion" of sorts

out of everyone, there is one child that sticks out a lot. he's plain-looking, but every future he's in is incredible. he's not always a good person, but he always brings about change of some sort, for reasons he believes are good ones

and they look at this child with his shining fate and think "this one"

bc the fates know what it's like to be jerked around by the universe, they ask him

"this is a deal we've done before, but we'll give more to you. trade us an eye and our powers will be yours to wield as your quirk, all we ask is that you live up to your fate"

they do the deal, the 4-year-old izuku gives up the sight of one of his eyes for the power of the fates

the quirk is registered as "all the odds" aka: he can see the odds of a certain thing happening

but that's not his quirk. he can see the strings of fate, follow them to see the different future outcomes, or pull at them, making some options more likely than others

the only person he tells the full details of his quirk to is Katsuki, bc the fates tell him he literally always tells Katsuki in the end, and it'll "save a lot of trouble", not that he knows that 

Katsuki is very excited to know he becomes a top hero, but he makes Izuku promise that he won't change his future bc he wants to make it there alone

also, the major downside of izukus quirk? he can't see his own fate

and the futures he sees are only as complete as the information he has

ie, he could witness kamino ward, but the future wouldn't show afo or mini might beyond a vague blob

anyway izuku gets teased for his lame quirk for a bit, then stops bc everyone who teases him gets weirdly bad luck

its the fates, they love their baby champion and he said no killing people

but people who are good to him get good luck, so he's got the nickname cat, for black cat and lucky cat!

anyway, episode one kinda happens normalishhh, but he doesn't ask if he can be a hero, because he's going to be a hero, he doesn't care what anyone says, he will be

but when he sees all mights strings of fact he gets a really weird look at them, because something unnatural is holding one of them above the others. so he asks "who tried to seal your fate?" bc he has no brain to mouth filter

and all might, understandably, is confused by this tiny boy asking him a very very weird question

he doesn't even get a chance to go tiny before izuku does dead pale, and whispers "shit" allmight poofs tiny, izuku looks at him, yells "I WONT SAY ANYTHING" and running jumps off the roof. all might coughs up a lung but the kid was 'lucky' and stuck the landing

basically, w the appearance of the sludge villain, the weird fate he saw for katsuki that morning suddenly made a whole lot more sense

the fates guide him to katsuki as fast as they can, he arrives there just before allmight

anyway izuku is calling out for katsuki and lays eyes on someone in the sludge, he doesnt see who it is, he doesnt see their fate. he sees that flash of a hand reaching out for help and he's already leapt over the barrier

he grabs a bit of rubble from the ground and throws it at the villain's eyes, nails him right in the fucking eye, gets katsuki half out. but the villain is baring down again and its all izuku can do to try to keep katsuki's mouth free

allmight saves them

anyway, when izuku is walking home all might pops out of fucking nowhere and gives izuku a heart attack

"I SAID I WONT TELL ANYONE PLEASE DONT HURT ME MR ALL MIGHT SIR"

"KID NO WAIT"

does the: you are so stupidly heroic, do you want to be a hero?, izuku says: i sure fucking do

“whats ur quirk”

"oh funny that its,,, its a little weird."

"oh?"

"i can,,,, see and influence the strings of fate"

"oH THATS WHY YOU SAID THAT WEIRD THING"

"wait yoU JUST THoUghT I wAs CRAZY?"

",,,,, people say weird things around me ok"

anyway all might basically says "ur crazy, your quirk is cool, take one for all."

and izuku says "OK YEAH"

all might asks a little how izuku was going to get into the hero course and he just pauses

"you know i was wondering about that but the fates told me id be fine." they both pause, staring at each other "wait,,, did they,,," "the fates totally knew huh"

anyway he eye glow when he use the fates quirk

all might sees izuku and he's like,,,, its baby nighteye

he honestly, for a hot minute, thinks nighteye might be izukus dad

bc like; green hair, gold eyes (well, eye), smart, analytic? thats nighteye baby

all might asks lowkey like "oh you don't talk much ab ur dad huh?" and izuku explains he doesn't know the guy. all might mentally tells off nighteye for having a child and ditching the mother

todoroki’s question literally is "are you all might and nighteye's illegitimate love child"

and izuku, who has no filter, blinks and responds with

"who said i was illegitimate"

anyway, back to the training

izuku who has been training to be a hero forever is pretty damn fit for a kid, but hes not one for all fit

anyway katsuki is like "izuku why are u following an old man around is he a pedo, and izuku wheezes like "NO OH MY GOD KASTUKI NO" and he explains like,,, a little of it

"like so i might have a strength quirk now too"

"izuku what the fuck why are you so op"

"im sorry katsuki im just better than you l m a o"

"COME HERE U LITTLE S H I T E"

so a brief overview of his quirk:

he gave an eye to use it so one of his eyes is just like,,, white. the whole thing is white. bc,,, its not really a quirk lmao,,,

anyway: he can view the future as much as he wants, it just takes some time, if he wants to take a quick look he doesn't need to stop paying attention, but its two slow and branching to be used like nighteye's in a fight (think like doctor strange in infinity war)

unlike nighteye, he has a third-person view of the events in question, and has,, some sounds? not many. mostly like breaking shit or oneliners he's heard before

changing the future, however, is more difficult by a long way

viewing the future has no real cost other than the fact he's not paying total attention at the time

changing the future, however, causes pain

nerve pain proportional to the change. little things, like flipping a coin heads? to make it more likely, its like a prick of the finger. to make it a 100% chance its like badly stubbing your toe. to change something big, like to move where a blow hits, feels like your arms have been plunged into burning oil. to change something massive, like, to stop something that was almost certain to happen, can cause enough pain to not only render him unconscious but can cause nerve damage leaving him with chronic pain/numbness/lack of function

the pain is normally in his arms bc its izuku and he break he arm

anyway! bc he was fitter and caught a glimpse of gran yelling at him about something called full cowl in the future + he cleaned the beach faster, he has like 2% full cowl for the entrance exam and had the quirk 2 months beforehand

katsuki avoids izuku for the day literally bc he doesn't want izuku to know if he passed before he did. which,,, is fair. he does explain this too so there isn't any random angst, izuku is just nervous

(oh also he can see the fate of someone he's looking at, he can change the fate of an event he's already seen to a different option he's already seen)

so we get the ochako bit, plus a bit of comedy bc katsuki is in a fucking beanie and sunglasses so izuku doesnt recognise him

he totally does but he doesn't say anything bc he's trying real hard

so izuku is kicking some ass in the exam and the bAMN 0 pointer like a fucking b a s t a r d hes like "what's the chances of this thing just like,,, breaking" and unfortunately they are v e r y low

so he is like "well i guess it's punchy time"

but before he gets there he sees a piece of rubble about to hit ochako. and he sees there isn't a small chance of it crushing her leg, so he changes the odds of that and gets a lovely few seconds of burning pain for his trouble

(he’s,,, pretty used to it by now so the boy has a scary pain tolerance)

bc he doesn't want to break his poor arms he jumps up the sides of the robot and tears out some wiring in the back and they start to fall

and he's like "oh shit the chance of my getting hurt is pretty high huh i should change that too" and ochako saves him with her quirk

and then he has a bit of a horrifying realisation while he's trying not to cry from pain

because

his quirk never changed the actions of other people before. ofa made it stronger

but, as he is now understanding, that hurts like a motherfucker, and his not-eye burns too and boy that's really unpleasant

this is another au where shinsou gets in on rescue points from saving katsukis ass + using him to save someone else

katsuki is a little salty but hes like "yeah tbh i really wouldn't have saved them alone, its fine" and then forces him to meet izuku bc hes still a total quirk nerd

izuku drags them + ochako out for ramen bc hes celebrating. shinsou is like "its a little early to celebrate getting in" and izuku just turns looking a lil confused "no im celebrating surviving the exam"

ok so, first day its wild

izuku's quirk is listed as "lucky punch" aka he can see odds and he's strong and no he doesn't know why stop looking at him like that

izuku and katsuki walked to school together bc they are baby and secretly nervous

izuku doesnt really look at katsuki's future all that often bc he doesn't like it, no real deal w izukus quirk he just wants to be successful by himself. so izuku, who can't look into his own future, has no idea how this day is going to go

they rock up to class, get inside and aizawa shows up, izuku has a brief heart attack, the quirk assessment starts. this time aizawa doesnt even have like a problem w izuku he's just trying to prove a point ab them being little baby heroes and sucking ass and izuku looked nice enough not to be mad about it for the rest of the year

so aizawa erases his quirk which, fair and izuku is confused and trying to use it

both of them

but

erasure didn't touch the fate quirk

so when he turns to look at aizawa he gets a face full of the USJ incident and he goes dead pale. aizawa is a touch confused but continues his whole thing, gives izuku his quirk back. he's still shaking. he throws the ball, it goes,,, less than it could have but far enough to be impressive

izuku stands next to katsuki shaking while they wait for the test to end. shinsou and uraraka are kinda distressed and all 3 of them are angry at aizawa even if they have no idea why. izuku bolts from the field right after and throws up in the bathrooms, followed by a quick panic attack. he was so freaked he was using ofa to get there so now uraraka, katsuki and shinsou are trying to find the boy

and aizawa is faintly confused

shinsou finds him first, shaking and sick in the bathroom. he grabs shinsou by the arm and says "staffroom, now." shinsou, who really doesn't know what's going on but is 100% shook, takes him there. he basically has to half carry izuku there bc he can't support himself

they get there and izuku knocks saying "i need to speak to yagi-san, now." and he sounds so scared and the whole office jumps bc why does a kid know allmights name, and all might jumps bc what happened to his boy

so he rushes out, grabs izuku and hurries him into a private office aizawa gives shinsou a look and shinsou just glares at him lmao bc its his fault izuku is like this. even though,, he's not really sure how

anyway, through sobs, izuku explains what he saw

and all might feels sick bc his boy didn't need to see all of that horrific violence, see his teachers torn to shreds and crushed to bits while the other students watch on helplessly

nezu doesn't know the extent of izukus quirk, mostly just because they didn't think ab telling him. they tell him now

aizawa is brought in to see smallmight trying to comfort his poor shaking student, who looks up and him and flinches and aizawa is like "ok guys the fuck did i do" nezu explains and then aizawa feels like a right dick to be honest, not that it was really anyone's fault

then the horrifying implications of "villains inside UA" sinks in and he's suddenly very on edge. now, izukus quirk isn't 100%. he had such a brief look at the vision he doesn't even know how likely it is. and while he offers to take a better look, its clear he really, really doesn't want to, so they all basically say

"right. so. we should probably be pretty careful tomorrow, huh?"

so when the usj attack starts, they have all might with his full 3 hours, mic, aizawa, and 13, w other heroes on standby, they hope, hope, that this wasn't very likely

but

they were wrong.

they were basically praying that the villains wouldn't make it into the usj

they've already altered the fate izuku saw by bringing allmight from the start, and present mic

but its not enough

the villains arrive and shigiraki is angry from the beginning, two unlisted teachers are waiting for them. shigiraki is childish but he's not stupid. he looks at the only child truly rattled, already protecting his friends, and he thinks he's found the cheater

they may not know the children's quirks, but present mic? 13? they know those quirks very well. mic is warped to the ruin zone, too unstable to freely use his quirk. kurogiri sends bakugo, kirishima and jirou after him

All Might is warped right to the nomu, kurogiri and shigiraki on standby for support. 13 has been taken out, aizawa is fighting through the villains to get to the nomu, to maybe offer some support to all might. he doesn't go after mic. he has to believe mic can handle himself or he'll break down where he stands.

izuku is warped to the shipwreck zone. alone. from a quick look at the future, the fates for anyone warped with him were grizly. he is confident in his choice to stop anyone from warping with him. he's ignoring the steadily climbing number of futures where he alone meets a terrible end

he's missing so much information on the villains every future he sees is hazy at best. all he knows is that if he doesn't get off this boat, aizawa gets hurt and that's not something he can abide

he busts the fuel tanks, letting the flammable liquid float across the water. he drops a match. in the chaos, he uses as much of ofa as he dares to jump to the shore. he steadfastly ignores the smell of burning meat.

he is one the opposite shoreline to canon, approaching the fight from the side, rather than the front. aizawa is hurt, battered from various villains, bleeding sluggishly from a headwound. he looks dazed

4 of shigiraki's fingers are wrapped around his neck

all might is at a standstill. if he strikes against the nomu, shigiraki will put his thumb down. he stands there and takes blow after blow, smile long gone from his face

izuku looks at the strings of Aizawa's fate. so many end here in so many ways.

he pushes his quirk into getting shigiraki away from his teacher. without direction, he's just baring against his quirk, begging it to give him a chance.

it does.

the bright flash of an explosive blonde draws the eyes of kurogiri and shigiraki. he uses the moment of distraction to launch towards his teacher, yanking him from shigiraki's hand. he loses a large chunk of skin for his trouble

all might defeats the nomu, but hes not looking good

bakugo, a limping mic, dazed aizawa, battered all might and bleeding izuku are the last stand, all praying the other students are ok.

iida did not escape

they have no backup coming.

shigiraki is fuming, but kurogiri can see the heroes are flagging. izuku is putting his all into his quirk, trying to give them all a lucky break

for the second time, it comes through

the rest of the students run towards them, joining them shoulder to shoulder. all of them are scared, some are hurt, but none of them are going to lay down and let shigiraki win. the villains escape

izuku falls

damages:

aizawa has a concussion + post-concussion syndrome. he has chronic migraines for the next year, and trouble with his long term memory for a few months

izuku is suffering from massive quirk overuse, his hands don't feel 'right' again for weeks

all might has lost only 20 minutes, but it's time he'd rather have

mic broke an ankle, but it's quickly fixed. Still, it aches from time to time

the other students had mild cuts/bruises and were left shaken

aizawa cries that night. a mix of the head injury, his hurt students, the look of fear he saw in their eyes. he holds mic and he sobs

izuku and his mother had a real relationship breakdown when she tore down his dream, even when izuku got a 'quirk' it never recovered. they don't talk. he doesn't tell her what happened. she doesn't find out.

izuku wanders the city the next day, unwilling to explain why he had no school today. he runs into mic who takes one look at this shaken student, outside and unprotected, and basically kidnaps the guy

izuku is forcibly dragged to the place mic/shinsou/aizawa share

when shinsou and aizawa find out izuku's mother basically just sent him off to school, not taking a day off work? they go full protective mode. shinsou wraps him up in the biggest blanket they own, grabs his own and forces izuku to play videogames with him on the couch. aizawa fumes in the kitchen over a cup of hot chocolate, mic fumes with him honestly

so, izukus kinda a mess, never tells his mother anything, etc, aizawa kidnapped him and he and shinsou played video games. izuku didn't go home that night, he just hopped on a train and rode it until it was time to go to UA

so when they get back everyone is just glad so see izuku alive tbh

so, sports festival! its a lot like canon

izuku doesn't use his fate quirk to change the future, but he does look at the possible futures and he sees that iida never makes it to the podium. he thinks for a second and makes a horrible realisation

the hero killer is in hosu

iida's brother is in hosu

iida’s brother is a hero

just before the event starts he finds aizawa and he's pale already

he gets out 'i need to see allmight' and aizawa gets a horrible feeling because last time this kid was worried they all almost died, so they run to find all might. seeing aizawa run around with a concerned look on his face? the stuff of nightmares at UA. everyone practically dives out of their way

izuku tells all might who swears a blue streak and pulls some strings to get extra heroes in hosu. izuku doesn't breathe a word to iida, because he just can't. not only does iida not know about the fate quirk, he can't scare him like that

bakugo knows something is wrong, but izuku won't breathe a word so he lets it lie

anyway, todoroki does his lil speech and izuku is honestly too burnt out to be intimidated, he sees his own death daily during just casual use of his quirk. boi ain't scared of much. bakugo gets pissy bc "FUCK YOU HALF AND HALF THAT'S MY RIVAL" and basically all of 1A is trying to claim izuku as their rival, either out of admiration or the desire to annoy bakugo

so izuku has to give the speech. which he's not happy ab because p e o p l e

and also because well,,, he's got no one at home to watch him

his speech basically goes along the lines of "we are here to fight fate. the odds are against us but we will win no matter what. not because it's easy, but because we have to. no matter what course we are in, we are all at this school fighting for a better future, for ourselves, our loved ones and the world. it doesn't matter if the odds aren't in your favour - the chance of any of us being here to see this moment is so small it may as well be impossible. its nothing to beat those odds again."

and everyone is like "owo how inspirational" but like anyone who knows him sees,,, layers

aizawa sees the bitterness about the USJ

all might sees izuku reducing his fight to be a hero as a quirk of fate, reducing his own involvement to 'it could have happened to anyone' when thats not true, because he is special

katsuki sees the bitterness that even though he had a good quirk, people tried to grind him into dust because he couldn't talk about it.

if inko was watching, she'd see how badly she betrayed her son

[starrywonn]

cafe latte

not requested

a/n: a purely self indulgent barista jisung au bc i was STRESSED and i was watching re-feel and a LOT of cafe videos

pairing: barista! han jisung x baker! reader

genre: fluff

scenario type: bulletpoint

word count: 1.9k

warnings: none

jisung was a barista at the nineteen cafe

honestly speaking, he didn’t even plan on working here

he helped his friend, chan, once because he was bored of waiting for him and somehow, he got dragged into working at the cafe

he wasn’t complaining though

i mean he got some pretty amazing coffee, unlike the acrid, watered down liquid the uni cafeteria served

and he got to hang out with his friends who also worked there

so jisung was a real winner here

until the cafe’s main baker, woojin leaves the shop

jisung was almost bawling when he announced it

jisung: does this mean i’ll never get to eat any of your chocolate croissants anymore??? T^T

woojin: if you keep this up, i’ll bring chocolate croissants for everyone but u

jisung: nOOOOO i’m sorry :“”“”“” i love u please…. not my croissants…..

honestly, at that point, woojin wasn’t even sure if jisung loved him or his pastries more

but woojin still had to leave and they had to find a replacement asap

recruitment posters were put up all over the campus

baker needed! nineteen cafe @ jyp university. walk-in interview

so when you, a broke university student, see it, you thank the heavens

you baked pretty often and your creations weren’t too bad if you said so yourself :]]

plus the cafe was on campus grounds so it’s definitely worth a shot

you stand outside the cafe and your legs turn to jelly

“come on y/n!! it’s just an interview!! you have to do this or you’ll spend the rest of your life broke!!!!!” you whisper scream to yourself

you finally make your way in and look around the cafe

soft acoustic music is accompanied by the chatter of patrons and the clinking of cups on ceramic saucers

a well-built man dressed in a white button up and black pants tends to the cash register

there’s no one ordering anything so you scutter up to the counter

“hi, uh, i’m here for the interview?”

“ok hold on,” the man turns around, “channnn, there’s someone here for the interviewww”

a blond walks out of the kitchen, covered in flour

“hey, i’m chan. the manager here. i’m gonna make this quick since i have to continue to try and make brownies,” he dusts his hands on his apron and gestures to an empty table in the cafe

“what’s your name?”

you stutter out your name and he scribbles it in a notebook he takes out from his pocket

“alright, y/n, how long have you been baking for?”

“about six years”

he scribbles again

after that, the interview is a blur from your sheer nervousness

“ok, this is the last bit. can you make a batch of brownies? we have to gauge your abilities”

you follow him to the kitchen

“wait, weren’t you trying to make them just now?”

chan ignores your question

“if you need anything, just call me!!”

and with that, he strides out of the kitchen

oh, wow, okay, so this was happening now

you put on the apron on the counter and pull out all the ingredients and utensils

it’s like something takes over you

your hands move on their own and it truly is a beautiful sight :“))))

jisung walks into the back to get ready for his shift but to get there, he has to get past the kitchen

the smell of chocolate wafts into his nose

he pauses

this was the best thing he’s ever smelt

"god? is that you?” jisung whispers

you snort, “yeah but you can call me y/n”

jisung freezes up and his eyes widen

“holy shit. cool. gotta go. uh, bye.”

jisung runs out and almost slams into chan

“woah woah woah, what’s got you so jittery??” chan asks

“nothing BYE”

jisung bolts for the cashier, “ changbin, i’m here!!!! you can go nOw”

changbin, although very confused, leaves

it’s about a little into jisung’s shift when you come out to call chan

in your hands are a tray of the freshly baked brownies

you offer one to chan and he almost cries from joy

“this …. is absolutely amazing….”

he passes one to jisung who is still shaking on the inside

jisung bites a corner off the chocolatey treat

he almost swears that his soul leaves his body because it was THAT good

he gives you a thumbs up and a big smile

chan offers your brownies to a few others who all give great responses, making your confidence shoot up

“okay, y/n, we’ll send you an email if you’re accepted,” chan says

“ok, thanks”

you leave the store and celebrate

that went way better than you had expected

all you have to do now is to wait

that can’t be that hard right?

oh but it was

every notification from your phone and laptop made you leap from your chair

it’s two days later when you get the email

dear y/n, we are pleased to announce that you have been hired as nineteen cafe’s new baker. please come to the cafe tomorrow for your first day. thank you.

*cue celebration pt.2*

the next morning, you bust into the bakery, ready to kick some butt

the cafe is empty, save for chan and changbin setting up

the early morning light pours into the cafe through its ceiling-to-floor windows

chan notices you and hands you a slip of paper with all the stuff to be made

“there’s a file of recipes in the kitchen. it’s on the shelf above the bowls”

you thank him and look through the list

strawberry shortcake, coconut cake, chcoolate chip cookies, brownies, blueberry muffins, raspberry cheesecake

and there was a second page….

the list was so much longer than you expected

one thing at a time

you took out the bowls and ingredients

following the recipe, you managed to whip up a pretty decent cake

the rest of the baked goods you made were also pretty good

you place them in the display fridge

you heaved a sigh of relief

you didn’t screw up on your first day!!!!

go you!!!

second day of work

good news: chan gives you free reign to experiment and come up with new stuff

bad news: the stand mixer breaks

worse news: the stand mixer can only be fixed a week later

kind of good news??: you’re gonna get buff

so you have to ask for help from the rest of the nineteen staff

working with all of them, BUT jisung, is great

but you have to get help from him since you don’t always wanna bother everyone too often

search chaos in the dictionary and you’ll get a photo of you and jisung baking

you’ll make a bowl of batter and having that half that bowl gone after 5 minutes

“HOW AREN’T YOU DEAD FROM SALMONELLA YET??¿?¿¿??”

or when you bake anything with chocolate

oh my GOD

you’ll go to grab a baking pan

and when you come back, the packet is suddenly so light

you: did you eat the chocolate again

jisung, chocolate covering his mouth:

you:

jisung, chocolate still covering his mouth: …no

he’d pop into the kitchen even when you don’t need his help just to screw with you

“oooOOOoo, is this a new recipe”

“nope. also don’t eat the chocolate chip cookies,” you say, still focused on making frosting

jisung just lets out a roar of laughter

“ok i won’t”

“but i’ll eat the muffins”

“jisUNG NO”

but all that eating of RAW batter and other stuff finally gets to him

jisung calls in sick

as much as you want to laugh at him, you’re kind of concerned,,,,

like he ate,,,, so much,,,,

you ask chan for jisung’s address so you can visit him

he gives you a face but gives you the address anyways

while carrying some porridge and medicine, you knock on his door

a very pale and dishevelled jisung opens the door but he gives you his usual goofy smile

“can’t get enough of me huh?” he chuckles weakly

“yea, sure whatever you want to think. anyways, i brought some stuff”

“come on in. it’s a little bit of a mess though”

his coffee table is covered in papers and his laptop is playing an episode of brooklyn nine-nine

cushions are strewn on the couch, a blanket draped over them

“i’ll leave the medicine on your kitchen counter but you should eat the porridge now before it gets cold”

jisung nods and you hand him the tupperware box

he gladly opens it and eats a spoonful

“this is so good,” jisung says

“thanks”

you sit next to him quietly as you watch the show

“how are you feeling??” you muster up

“i literally have not seen the light of day in 5 YEARS, my stomach has not known pain like this” he says between mouthfuls of porridge

“that’s what you get for eating so much RAW batter”

“i know but it was so GOOD!! it was totallly worth it”

you shoot a glare at him and he returns a cheeky smile

you try your best to keep a straight face but you can’t help laughing at him

the buzzing of your phone calls for your attention

you grab it and look at the caller id

“oh shit. sorry ‘sung, i gotta go. uni calls! bye!!”

you scurry out of jisung’s apartment and sprint to campus for your project

a few days pass and jisung returns to work

he’s back to almost bouncing off the walls

but when he comes into the kitchen with your tupperware box and a cup of coffee in his hands, he’s flushed red

jisung leaves them on the counter and zooms out of the kitchen

you finish kneading the bread and pick up the cup of coffee

a heart sits on top of the foamy milk

you take a few sips before realising the small piece of paper on the saucer

your cheeks feel a slight warmth as you read the note

“thanks for the food and stuff!! let’s get dinner some time soon ok?? - jisung”

you kind of want to scream but you probably shouldn’t

what do you do????

do you text him??? tell him in real life??? give him another note???? maybe you should just burn the note and pretend he never gave anything to you???? 

all that fills your mind for the rest of the day is the note

soon, it’s the end of both yours and jisung’s shift

you grab your stuff from the lockers in the back

as you try to leave, jisung tries to enter the narrow doorway

you shuffle left and jisung shuffles right

“sorry,” you say as you go in the opposite direction

and so does jisung

HHHHHH

you stay put as jisung moves past you

turning around, you call out, “hey 'sung! are you free right now? i know a good sushi place around here”

jisung almost jumps from his skin and you can see the crimson creeping up his ears under the fluorescent lighting

“yea- yea i am!! just give me a minute to grab my stuff,” he replies

he comes out with his backpack soon after

jisung grabs your hand and brings you out of the cafe

“lead the way!!”

[spongeekat]

Life as a Super powered Omega Sucks (Chapter 3)

read on ao3

Masterlist Here

“So we’re just hanging around until you need us?”

“Pretty much. Is that an issue?”

“No, Mr. Stark.” Peter answered immediately, before the dejected tone in his voice could be called out. He glanced over at Wade, who was grinning mockingly at him.

“ No, Mr. Stark .” Wade repeated in a whispered girlish tone, and Peter grabbed a pillow to launch at his face. It was a little harder than he intended, he could admit, especially when the impact caused Wade to go tumbling off the side of his bed.

“Great. Things were a little difficult today with Romanoff and she had a close call when she was nearly discovered. Once we verify that our blueprints of the armory are correct, we’ll commence with our plans. Until then, we have to assure that we have no chance of alerting these guys to our presence. You two have a funny way of drawing attention to yourselves.” Mr Stark paused on the other end of the line, and his voice lowered suspiciously. “You haven’t done anything to make people notice you, have you?”

“Uhhh…” Peter paused thoughtfully, scratching the side of his head. The bed shifted underneath him, Wade pathetically crawling back up onto the mattress like a wounded puppy. “I don’t think so. Besides like, the usual going out for food and stuff.”

“Terrific. So you’re already pulling your weight. Sorry, kid, I know this probably sounded faster paced and more exciting at the meeting, but things sometimes have to take their time. SHIELD has been planning the dismantlement of these terrorists longer than you’ve been Spider-Man.”

“It’s okay. Just happy to help.”

“If babysitting Diaperpool gets too annoying, call me or Steve. We’ll send someone over to muzzle him until he’s needed.”

“Wade’s been fine. Annoying, but fine.” Peter returned, snickering at Wade’s offended expression.

“I gotta go before Barton and Romanoff decide to sneak off and mess with Coulson. Stay safe.”

“Will do, Mr. Stark. Thanks.”

Mr Stark hung up with a click, leaving Peter to stare at his burner with disappointment. He’d hoped things would maybe have progressed further, especially considering he was usually consistently busy in his daily life, and at the present moment, he was so insanely bored he almost wished he had a term paper due tomorrow. It wasn’t like they could go sight-seeing, either; the others had made it painfully clear that they were to stay put in the small city until someone came to collect them.

He still had more pressing matters hanging over his head as well, and every hour he spent on suppressants he felt like he was going insane.

Peter had taken his fourth dose of suppressants a few hours back, and he could already feel his body begging to be let off of them. His skin was hypersensitive, and even the brush of a blanket was enough to make him throw the entire comforter onto the floor. Wade had been his only distraction- his presence somehow endearing despite the fact his scent was overwhelming at times- but even witty banter wasn’t enough to keep his focus entirely off of the symptoms plaguing his system. He quietly turned his head towards the window, peering past sheer curtains to stare at the sky dripping with thick, grey clouds. The dreary town seemed just a bit heavier, especially with the trickling of rain pattering against the paths and pulling up dirt into the air.

He just wanted to feel needed. Was that too much to ask?

“Sooo, we’re sitting ducks?” Wade asked from behind Peter, and he felt Wade inching closer towards him. He shot a look back at the man, who retreated to instead stand a foot or so away. “Wanna go out?”

“We’ve looked through the entire place twice. I don’t think we’re gonna find any new food places just because we walk around again.” Peter groaned.

“No, no, no, I don’t mean here. We’re, what, 45 minutes out of Moscow? You’d love it there, Pete! I know you said some other time, but I can tell you’re going crazy here, and I’m supposed to be the only unstable one.”

Peter sat without a word, waiting in amusement for him to say he was joking. The look of determination on Wade’s face made him realize he was dead serious. “Moscow? Just so we can mess everything up if someone recognizes you?”

“Not the nice parts with cameras and mafias, obviously. The shitty parts is where you have all the fun. And anyone who recognizes me there probably paid me to kill their rich cousin at some point. We could find a party, or an orgy if that’s more your style. Oooo, you’ve never been to a party, have you? It’d be so fun!” Wade didn’t respect Peter’s wish for space this time, bounding directly onto the bed to sit inside his personal bubble. “Russian parties are the coolest, because there’s no rules and everyone here is fucking depressing. So they go hard to have a little bit of fun before drowning their sadness in vodka.”

“I’m not going to a party. Or another city. I’m not leaving the hotel room. Mr. Stark would kill me.” Peter said in irritation, rolling off the bed to stand near the window. The breeze coming through reminded him of his pathetic blanket and uncomfortable bed he’d have to huddle for warmth again that night, as he grimaced. “This is my one chance to prove I can do things right.”

“And you still will! Just after having a wild night.”

Peter stared at him wordlessly.

“Okay, a slightly crazy night that you don’t wake up too hungover from.”

“Wade.”

“Fine, fine, Pete, be a drag. But I’m getting on the next party train to Moscow with or without you. And I really hope it’s with you, because I need my arm candy to get into these things. Looking like a burn victim only gets me so far, honey buns.” Wade jumped off Peter’s bed, crossing towards the door. When he reached it, he threw a look back over his shoulder with the saddest puppy-dog look he could muster. “You can still go on this infiltration mission later. You’re travelling. I know you don’t usually have the money to do that. Why not enjoy it for one night? You deserve a reward for being a hero every once in a while.”

Peter sucked in a breath, but didn’t comment. He didn’t deserve anything. He had the power to help people, so he was obligated to do whatever he could.

But as Wade left, Peter could feel the comfort he’d had in his presence ebbing out of his body as well, being replaced by the tense achiness he’d been feeling for the past 2 days. Being left alone sounded like the last thing he wanted right now- even though it was usually how he preferred to spend days he didn’t feel so hot- and he wasn’t so sure Wade would even make it back to their motel in one piece if left alone to make bad decisions.

If Mr Stark were here, he would tell Peter not to listen to Wade and to stay put as he was instructed to do. But Mr Stark wasn’t here, and Wade’s reasoning for why he should go was weighing heavily on his mind. He didn’t get to travel often and so far he was spending this vacation couped up in a small town waiting to be useful for an hour. Who cares how he spent the other 96, so long as he didn’t jeopardize the mission?

He was pulling his shoes on quicker than he could make a decision, and had his door locked and a dose of suppressants in his back pocket a moment later. Wade lit up when he stepped out into the hall to find Peter already waiting for him.

“Glad to see you still know how to have fun.” The merc beamed, extending an escorting arm to Peter he refused to take. “I promise I’ll make rebelling worth it.”

“No Moscow.” Peter said, his voice stiff. “But there was that cool looking bar up the road- the one with the skylight? - and we still have enough cash to get both of us at least mildly drunk, right?”

“I like the way you think, Spidey.” Wade chuckled, leading them down the grimy hallway towards the exit of the hotel. “I’ll drag you to Moscow or Paris some other time. And if we run out of money for drinks, I’ve got a few Xanys in my back pocket. Either way, I can’t wait to see what you’re like when you’re fucked up, baby boy.”

--

Wade spent the entire walk there detailing his past crazy adventures and near-death experiences when visiting Russia. Peter nearly regretted agreeing to follow him, particularly when he started to delve into the R-rated details, but he had to admit the distraction was nice. Even the worry that Mr. Stark would find out where they’d gone was preferable to sitting alone in his room, trying to ignore the cramps deep in his abdomen.

The bar exterior was a bit busier than it had been the night before, but this spot seemed to be the only social gathering place in the entire town, so it wasn’t a surprise to find a mixture of people of all ages laughing and drinking with one another. Music played faintly from inside- some Russian pop music, Peter guessed- and the lights inside were dim, making it conveniently easier for Peter and Wade to keep up some anonymity.

Wade pushed through the doorway with a grip on Peter’s wrist to drag him, the back of Wades body melting into a dark blob as they entered the space. As they approached the actual bar, Wade drew Peter up next to him, giving him a toothy grin. “What do you normally order?”

“At..bars?” Peter asked, hushing his voice. “I’m 20. I’ve never been inside of one.”

Wade chuckled in a way that made Peter’s face immediately light up in embarrassment, leaning cooly against the counter. “You’re a superhero, friends with a billionaire scientist that has access to all his cool gadgets and gizmos and shit, and spend your nights probably stopping bar hits, and you don’t have a fake ID?”

“No? I mean my friend and I have drank like wine coolers and stuff before from her parents’ fridge.”

“You’re lucky the drinking age here is 18, you’re cute enough that no one can say no to that face, and I can speak the language.”

Wade turned to speak to the bartender as Peter’s stomach twisted, and he waited impatiently beside him to get their drinks so he could get some space back between him and Wade’s overpowering scent.

It took a minute of negotiation for Wade to finally get the man to fork over 2 double-shots and 2 mixed drinks, and Wade passed him a bill that looked way too big for the amount of alcohol they were handed. Peter grabbed his offered glasses and they picked their way through the crowd to an open loveseat furthest from the speakers to protect Peter’s sensitive hearing, and give them their privacy from the rest of the bar goers.

“Bottoms up, Petey pie!” Wade saluted with his shot, making Peter mimic the motion.

As they both chugged their shot, Peter couldn’t help but think that was definitely how he wanted to be right now with the hormones raging through his system, effectively making him choke on the last ounce of alcohol.

“Whoaaa, you really are inexperienced, huh?” Wade laughed, patting Peter on the back as he sputtered for air. “You gotta hang out with me more if you can’t even handle a vodka shot.”

“I-I’m fine.” Peter gagged, finally managing to get oxygen back to his lungs as his throat stopped spasming in alarm. He settled back into the cushions of the loveseat as far from Wade as he could get without making it obvious he was avoiding him, but the merc made no comment on the increased distance.

“You can wash it down with your martini.”

“I at least know what that is, and it’s definitely not gonna help.”

“Worth a try.”

Peter rolled his eyes and reached for it anyways, to give him something to do with his hands. The feeling of the alcohol sitting warm in his stomach at least helped to mask some of his other symptoms, which he was grateful for.

“So, I know they gave you the choice to stay in an actual house and not in some sleazy town more infested with bugs than Stark’s pubic hair.” Wade mused as he took shockingly large drinks of his own martini. “Why’d you pick here?”

“They don’t know my face or name or...anything else about me. At least, everyone but Mr Stark.” Peter stared into the glass, briefly considering telling Wade the predicament he was in. Wade was kind, and he was the one who was least likely to judge him for being an omega, or try to get him to drop the mission. But he was also a blabbermouth, and Peter wasn’t sure he wouldn’t sell his secret out for street cred with the rest of the team. “Plus, I don’t think I’d ever have the guts to do this if I was stuck in a house with Natasha. She’d have me running laps for hours or Clint would make me clean his bows or something.”

“While they got it on in the other room?”

“Ew.” Peter reeled automatically, then really considered it and looked incredulously at Wade. “You don’t think they’re…?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Wade laughed.

“I didn’t think about it.” Peter paused, then repeated, “Ew.”

---

An hour later, Wade had spent way too much of their money shoveling shots down Peter’s throat, and the both of them had successfully gotten pretty tipsy.

The later it got, the louder the other patrons grew, which meant Peter and Wade could giggle stupidly over cheesy jokes while remaining inconspicuous among the public eye. Peter could feel a slight tingle on the surface of his skin, which meant he’d have to head back to the hotel soon, but he was admittedly having too much fun to be overly-cautious. He hadn’t let go and relaxed like this in over a year, and sitting so close to Wade just felt good in ways he couldn’t really explain.

And of course, as soon as the universe had handed him one good moment, it was ready to give him two bad ones.

The chorus of Take on Me started to play from Peter’s pocket, his burner ringtone, and he reached clumsy fingers to dig for the device.

“A-ha! Gotta say, I love your choices.” Wade drawled, strewn out over the loveseat.

Peter managed to fumble the cheap flip-phone open, and the initials TS made his heart stop in his chest. “M-Mr. Stark.”

Panic punched into Peter’s gut, and his stomach gave an unbidden lurch. He gaped at the screen, feeling as if the phone call was his martini playing with his eyes. Yet, after a few gasps of air to steady his nerves, he determined it really was Mr Stark calling him.

“You gonna answer?” Wade was gazing down at the name over his shoulder, closer than Peter remembered, which only served to make him jump.

“I have to, I think.” Peter swallowed, hopping off the couch as his mind whirled. The heat symptoms were a bit worse now, amplified by the sudden panic. “Um, I’ll be back.”

He staggered to the entrance of the bar, past a few concerned onlookers that whispered incoherently- likely about the stress evident in his expression. Peter stepped out onto the lightly populated street, gulping down frozen air, before he finally clicked the green ‘answer’ button and pulled the phone to his ear.

“H-Hi, Mr. Stark.” Peter smiled stupidly into the air, trying to remember what he sounded like sober. “Um, what’s up?”

“Checking in. I feel like I was too short with you earlier. I know it can’t be easy to sit around in a gross hotel and being kept in the dark due to SHIELD clearance.”

“I’m okay!” Peter insisted in a forceful manner, biting his lip to keep from letting his mouth wander into a tangent as he often did when nervous. “I mean, I’m having a good time.” He stopped. “I mean, it’s not that bad.”

“Right.” Mr Stark responded with apprehension. “I just wanted to be sure. Surprisingly. I do have a shred of a conscience and know you weren’t entirely thrilled about this mission in the first place.”  

“Yeah, yeah but I’m like totally glad to help.”

“And it’s appreciated. ”

Peter didn’t have a good response, so he fell silent for God-knows-how-long, unable to actually tell due to the alcohol in his system.

“ Are you drunk right now?”

The accusation made the vodka that had settled in his stomach turn ice-cold.

Peter wracked his brain for an answer, though it was clear Mr. Stark had already made up his mind.

He disappeared from the line for a moment, cursing with a hostile tone under his breath, before returning with an aggressive hmph of breath. “ You’ve got to be shitting me. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I-I, I was just-”

“ You weren’t thinking is the simple answer. You never do. You know this isn’t just about you, or the Avengers, or proving to SHIELD I wasn’t completely insane for thinking a 20 year old was competent enough to work with us. This is about proving to me you weren't the child you were when I met you. But it looks like I was wrong. ”

Peter felt a stab of pain in his gut, and tears sprung to his eyes. Oh god, he couldn’t start crying now, standing outside of a bar and looking pathetically out of place. Mr Stark’s words hurt, and they made him feel sick to his stomach. The last thing he had ever wanted to do was break his trust or disappoint him.

“ I’m sorry, Mr Stark.”

“Sorry’s aren’t good enough. You’re too smart for this, Peter. I’m disappointed.”  

Peter felt another sharp strike in his abdomen, and he faltered. It was different. This wasn’t just guilt wringing his insides. Below the top layer of his skin, he could feel a slight fever beginning. Shit.  

“ I’m coming to get you.”

“ No!” Peter blurted out, berating himself silently a moment later. “I-I mean I’m...I’m not at the hotel right now. Wade and I went out to a bar in town and he’s in the bathroom right now. Plus I-I still gotta pack.”

Mr Stark made an upset noise. “ Fine. I’m driving over when the sun comes up in the morning, then. Don’t do anything else to fuck up any worse, got it? ”

“Yes, sir.” Peter swallowed, curling his fingers tighter around the phone. The cramps were hitting hard. His entire stomach felt like it was being flooded with fire. “I’m really sorry.”

“ Drink water and try to eat something before you go to bed. The last thing we need is to explain a hangover to Coulson in the morning .” Mr Stark paused with a sigh, clearly distressed. “ I know you’re young. I know you wanna do things kids your age should be doing. But you can’t be both a kid and an Avenger. You have to pick one or the other. I’ll call you when I’m almost there.”

The phone call ended as Peter’s breath hitched, and he leaned back against the wall of the bar, clutching his stomach. His eyes burned and his body was giving clear warning signs of impending heat symptoms. They had to get back, before Peter threw up vodka and everything he’d eaten for 2 days in Shcherbinka, or worse- broke down into tears.

He just had to find-

“Ooooooh shit. Did I get you in trouble?”

Peter started as he stood straight, Wade watching him from the entrance of the bar.

Peter ran fingertips fast under his eyes but it seemed to be too late, the merc striding towards him with concern strewn across his features.

“Petey, hey, what’s up?” Wade asked in a softer voice, maintaining his distance but holding out a comforting hand. “Was he that mad? Fuck, baby boy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he’d find out.”

“Let’s head back.” Peter muttered, brushing his hand out of the way so he could head down the sidewalk. He could feel Wade walking behind him, but was grateful that he gave him his space.

------

Peter nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a pounding at the door.

In reality, it was likely just a normal-volumed knock, but the pressure in his head was growing exponentially, and coupled with his distraction, he hadn’t heard anyone approaching. His grasp tightened around the syringe in his fingers, feeling the glass splintering slightly, but he finally released it onto the top of his TV stand and pulled himself to his feet. For reasons beyond his control he felt annoyed at being interrupted. Even if the person on the other side of the door didn’t know the suffering he was subjecting himself to at the moment, his shoulders were tense and he was ready to give them an earful about invading his space. It was close to midnight. Who felt the need to show up and bother him now? All he wanted was to crawl into bed and wind the covers tight around himself, so tight he would be unable to breathe- just to feel surrounded by warmth and darkness. Not answer the door to some late night housemaid or the receptionist trying to remind him he was checking out tomorrow.

He yanked the door open until it nearly slammed against the wall, ready to snap, when Wade’s face came into view. He stopped, swallowing back all the surprise rooted in his stomach, and managed a meek “what?”

“I forgot to give you back your wallet.” Wade said as he held out the pleather tri-fold, staring strangely at Peter. He knew he probably looked wild-eyed and angry, but he was barely keeping himself in control at this point. Everything felt uncomfortable in his body, as if his muscles couldn’t find a point in which they didn’t feel strained. “Petey? You look like shit. Is Iron Man being an Iron Bitch still bothering you?”

“No, it’s nothing.” Peter muttered and reached for his wallet. He tensed when Wade’s gloves wrapped around his lithe wrist, squeezing lightly. The pressure was enough to set his skin on fire, and he couldn’t bring himself to move away from the contact.

Alpha…

“Hey, hey, you’re shaking.” Wade’s voice was clearly concerned now, and Peter cursed his inability to drop things. He made another move for his wallet, but the other drew it further back. “Are you sick? Peter?”

“I’m fine.” Peter grunted, his eyes blearily focusing on the texture of Wade’s sleeve. This close to Wade his scent was intoxicating, stronger than it ever had been, and the smell of burnt pine and expired rain wafted up through his head. It made him dizzy, and electricity sparked over his arms and down into his stomach. His scent alone was enough to make him quiver.

Suddenly, his pants felt too tight, and the realization of what Wade’s presence was doing to him had his dreary vision snapping back into focus. But it was too late, because the taller man was already steering him back into the room towards the bed.

“Do you need anything? I can run to the store, or call Daddy Stark or something. I don’t want you dropping dead on me, baby boy.” Wade’s mouth was so close behind his head, Peter imagined he could feel his hot breath on his ear and neck. Every step they took towards the bed was another cramp knotting in his stomach, and he wanted to scream from the pressure. Suppressants were supposed to eliminate the symptoms of heat, not just stop it in its wake. But he’d also never been on them for 2 days before, so he wasn’t sure when their effectiveness started to falter. “Here, lay down. I’ll get you all snug and then I’ll grab anything you want.”

Alpha… smells good.

Peter’s body moved on its own, making the painful crawl into his covers, before he collapsed in the middle of the bed onto his back, dropping his head back in the pillows. The world spun a bit before his eyes finally settled on Wade, who was sitting on the edge of the mattress staring at him. He gazed down at his arms, his pulsing muscles begging to be released from the tight hoodie material, and trailed back up to his broad shoulders and neck. Everything about Wade screamed dominance and strength, and his omega side was begging him to reach out to be held. Still, Wade didn’t seem to be paying attention to him, his eyes cast lower down on the bed. Peter followed his gaze, trailing over the blankets and down to his hips, where the blankets had stopped.

His erection was standing tall in his jeans, making every effort to escape the confines of the uncomfortable fabric and seek out Wade’s attention. And Wade was staring directly at it.

His expression was unreadable,  but Peter assumed he was completely freaked out as to why his friend had a clear hard-on after being touched by him, and he grabbed a pillow to shove down on his waist.

“Oh my god.” Peter whispered in mortification, his voice gravelly. He squeezed his eyes shut as the heat in his stomach rose to mirror on his cheeks, rolling onto his side just so Wade would stop gawking at him. “I-I’m so sorry, I’m just tired and you showed up and I can’t help it-...”

“Me?” Wade finally asked, his voice a pitch lower and focused. Peter felt the bed shift, and then a hand lightly settled onto his shoulder, as if he would break him if he put any weight on him. “Pumpkin, hey, it’s okay, look at me.”

Peter shook his head, refusing to face the humiliation as he buried his face further into the pillows. He wanted to scream and cry at the same time, and curse his biology for being so fucking inconvenient it was ruining everything about this weekend. Why couldn’t he just be a beta? Why an omega? Why did the world hate him so much?

Wade applied a bit more pressure onto his shoulder and forced him to return to laying on his back, his other hand moving to lightly rest on Peter’s abdomen. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.” He murmured, his gloved fingertips rubbing light circles right on the spot there was the most tension in his stomach. “Can I help?”

“What?” Now Peter finally looked back up at him, red eyes widening drastically. The question sent another wave of warmth crashing through his pelvis, and he knew the swelling wasn’t about to go down any time soon.

Wade’s hand inched lower, grazing the waistband of his jeans, though his fingers didn’t dip inside, clearly waiting for full, and clear, permission. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I left you here alone like this.” He murmured, his voice sounding tighter. Peter swallowed back his jumpiness and looked down at the hand dancing over his hips, willing his body not to buck up needily for the attention it craved. “I won’t do anything you don’t want to do. But if you want me to make you cum, I will. Just say the word.”

I need it.  

“Wade, I…” Peter didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have the strength to tell him no, to save himself from the humiliation of letting his friend get him off, but he also didn’t know if he wanted to tell him no. Maybe it was his heat still getting shoved back in his body, or the nights he’d spent jerking off to thoughts of Wade (only on occasion; he had said some pretty suggestive things in the past) but denying him felt like the wrong option.

“If you don’t want to see me you can keep your eyes shut and pretend it’s someone else. I won’t mind. This doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Peter knew that wasn’t true, that taking this step would result in a lot more confusion and tension filtering into their relationship, but the thought of Wade’s warm mouth swallowing him down his throat sent a shiver up his spine.

If there was anything he knew about Wade, it was that he had a lot of experience in that department.

Peter nodded numbly, draping one arm over his eyes so he didn’t have to face reality.

“I need to hear you say it, angel. I don’t want to cross any boundaries unless you’re sure you want this.” Wade added as his fingers tugged and undid his button, the zipper audibly being drug down.

“I want it.” Peter croaked, instantly feeling his temperature spike. “Please don’t make me say anything else.”

Peter couldn’t see Wade, but he could practically feel his smirk of satisfaction. As promised, Wade moved on the bed so that his weight was bridged over Peter’s legs and pulled his pants and boxers down without asking any more of him.

The cold air rushing over his dick almost made Peter moan in relief, but he bit his lip to keep the sounds at bay. In the darkness he could hear every movement Wade was making, from the rub of denim against itself to the creeks of the cheap bed springs underneath them. Wade’s mouth was absent, and the only real reminder he had that he was there was a hand pressing steady into his thigh, gripping bruisingly against the skin, while his other hand fondled with part of his own clothing. He almost wanted to ask if this was alright, reassure Wade he didn’t have to do this, but then, God , Wade’s face returned close to his pelvis with a hot breath brushing over the tip of his cock.

Peter almost came right then.

“Just try to relax,” Wade spoke lowly, each word sending a puff of breath over his sensitive flesh that had him twitching. “You smell delicious.”

He didn’t have a chance to ask what he meant before an overwhelming warmth enveloped the head and continued down. Each inch Wade took into his mouth sent more and more stars flashing in Peter’s eyes, and his entire body went tense. Whatever self control he had before melted away, as his mouth hung open in utter awe at the sensations. He’d gotten head before, though he was in his heat, so he didn’t quite remember it. Now, however, when his nerves were extra sensitive from his symptoms falling off but he was otherwise mentally alert, he was choking on the pure bliss. Eventually he felt Wade’s nose press snug into his pubes, and he realized, with an embarrassed gulp, that his dick was pressed in the back of Wade’s throat.

Then the mercenary swallowed, and Peter’s voice shot out in utter ecstasy.

“G-God, Wade, p-please…” Peter didn’t know what he was begging for, possibly relief from the mind-boggling fever he felt twisting his gut, but Wade seemed to comply. His mouth retreated until his cock once again bobbed free, and Wade tongued precum dribbling from the slit. Peter picked his head up in reaction only to drop it back against the pillows, a groan echoing from his chest. Wade hadn’t been exaggerating when he said his scars were everywhere. His dick once again penetrating his mouth and brushing along the inside of his cheeks proved that. The texture had him crooning instantly.

Wade apparently decided that toying with Peter was more important than actually pleasing him, if his slow, firm pace was any indication. Everything about Wade normally was erratic and unruly, dangerously unpredictable, and yet now he demonstrated perfect control, unwilling to let the twitches or whines leaving Peter’s throat to deter him from his perfectly measured beats. His lips tightened and a slight suction drew more pressure to the surface of Peter’s groin.

There was a low grunt from Wade’s mouth, almost like garbled words attempting to be formed around the length, and Peter drew his arm away enough just to glance down at him. The scandalous sight that met him as his vision readjusted to the light had his heart leaping up into his throat, a throb echoing through his limbs and making his stomach churn. “What?” He panted, on the edge of going absolutely insane from his taunting.

Wade repeated his hum, the vibrations enough to make Peter jolt, but he maintained eye contact, growing a bit annoyed as all he wanted was to focus on chasing his orgasm. “I can’t hear you.”

Wade’s lips drew back, his tongue being the last to peel away from his cock, as he swallowed back the mixture of fluids that must have been gathering on his tongue. He looked rather flustered himself- from what Peter could see of his exposed nose and chin from under his mask. “I asked if you just showered.” He grinned, teeth flashing bright as ever into a crooked, but breathtaking, smile. “Whatever soap you use is really working for you. You smell just..” His nose pressed into the crook of his thigh, causing Peter to tremble from the tickling sensation. “Like dessert.”

Peter didn’t want to ask him to elaborate, knowing that whatever scent he thought he smelled was pheromones playing tricks on his brain, so he flopped back against the pillows instead. “That’s all you had to say?” He asked impatiently, toes burying into the cheap polyester sheets under him.

Wade’s laughter had Peter self consciously curling back into himself, but then his hands were tugging his thighs back open until he was in a vulnerable position, similar to earlier. “You’re wanting more?” He asked in a low, but teasing voice. Despite all his pride, Peter nodded weakly, throwing both arms back over his face to cover as much of it as he could without suffocating. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll stop playing. I’d rather hear you screaming my name, anyways.”

This time, when Wade took him back into his wet mouth, he didn’t give Peter any mercy or room to breathe.

Fingers dug hard into Peter’s hips, anchoring them down to the squeaking mattress, causing a frustrated huff to leave his lips. However, his complaints fell short when that wonderful pleasure blanketed his shaft again, warming his body from his toes to his chest. Wade’s throat opened to allow nearly every bob to force more of his dick to cram down into the tightness, not an inch left unattended to. Any rational thought floating in Peter’s head was obliterated, replaced by the image of red fire, of a tingling spreading through his fingertips and his feet, and the twisting of his stomach.

And by Wade, abusing his cock and forcing so much sensation onto Peter he thought he might cry.

It didn’t take long for Peter’s orgasm to build. He had already been on edge for days, and he didn’t doubt even a brush on his shoulder or a grab of his hip could have made him break down by now. But this was oh so much better than any feeling he could have jerked out with his hand. This was ecstasy, and he wasn’t just going to get off. He was going to cum, and he was going to cum hard.  

Peter’s arms found Wade’s head on instinct, his fingers gripping tightly at his temples. Wade noticed, his tongue putting in twice the effort and one hand raising to squeeze lightly on Peter’s aching balls. He mouthed Wade’s name, though no sound was able to escape his lungs, his voice strangled in his tight airway. His muscles clenched, his hands held harder onto his skull, and a second later his back slammed again into the mattress before bullets of hot cum shot down Wade’s throat. Peter squeezed his eyes shut so hard he could only see crimson, the other man’s mouth greedily sucking down his semen without so much a sound of disgust or displeasure.

Wade didn’t release his overly sensitive dick from his mouth until he was sure his quivers had stopped, and he took his sweet time doing so. When he finally released him, his grip disappearing from Peter’s hips, he realized how empty he felt, and his hands twitched with the need to reach out to Wade, to ask to be held by the alpha, but he suppressed every indecent desire and instead settled for opening his eyes.

Wade was redressed fully by the time he looked, and disappointment shot through Peter’s chest.

“Hopefully you feel better now, Spidey.” Wade hummed in clear amusement, adjusting his sleeves so they went back down to the joint of his wrists. “I’ll let you get back to sleep. If you need anything else, well, you know where I am. Feel free to crawl right in.”

Peter watched in silence, unable to fathom a proper reply or reaction now that his heat was finally withdrawing. Every step felt like a heavy weight on his chest, and he felt the need to say something, anything, even if it was to confess everything that he had been suffering through. He rationalized that was just the needy omega side of his brain, though, and some things were better left unsaid.

Peter tossed himself onto his side, his back facing towards the door, to try to get proper rest. The door squealed open behind him as Wade started to exit, and he swore he heard Wade pause in the doorway to take a breath.

But then the door shut lightly a second later and Peter was bathed in darkness. Alone, exhausted, and his mind struggling to make sense of everything that had just happened.

[fiftyshadesgrl]

Part two of my brantley gilbert series! I hope everyone enjoys it.

I wake up to find myself tangled up around Brantley. Hes still asleep and its dark outside. I hear a humming sound then a bump. I realize the bus is moving. I jump up, "oh my god!"

Brantley sits up in a panic, "what is it baby?"

I pull the sheet up around me suddenly feeling vulnerable. "The bus is moving. I cant go anywhere! I have to go home."

He wraps me in his arms to comfort me. "Its okay baby girl. Why dont you just stay for the next couple of shows then if you still wanna go home, Ill make sure you get there."

"I have to work. I cant just give everything up to be a groupie."

"Hey." He said making me look at him. "You will never be a groupie. You are way better than that and you know it. Just give us some time, give me some time to show you that this time will be different."

I sigh, "what about my work?"

"Call them and tell them you need some time off."

I snicker, "the real world doesnt work like that. We cant all be Brantley Gilbert."

He lays back down and smiles, "Hell Ill call em myself." I laughed at that and can actually see him doing that. I shake my head and turn my phone on and find its only 2 in the morning. I quickly text my boss and tell him that Im taking my vacation early and Id be back in two weeks. I turn my phone back off and lay back down cuddling up to brantley.

He wraps his arms around me and kisses me. I moan and crawl on top of him. "Damn baby girl, youre gonna wear me out." He says smiling. I smiled back down at him, I cant believe I have him all to myself but the memory of three years ago comes flooding back to me.

3 years ago.....

I was out with mama becky trying to find the right dress that made me feel beautiful. I wanted to blow brantleys mind in a couple months when we say I do. Mama becky turns to me as we pull into the driveway, "hows he been lately?" I sigh and shake my head. "He has his good days and bad days."

His mama had tears in her eyes, "these days its more bad than good." I nodded but pasted a smile on my face.

"Dont worry mama, things will get better. Hopefully he will sober up by the wedding." I said hopeful but doubt still clung heavily in my mind and heart.

I hugged her and jumped out of the truck. "Ill come back this way in a couple of days to talk about the flowers and everything." Mama becky said and I nodded and waved as she pulled out of mine and brantleys driveway.

The house was unusually quiet, brantley usually had music blaring or playing his guitar chugging beer out on the front porch. I unlocked the door and walked in. "Brantley, Im back." Not one word, I walked towards the bedroom where the door was cracked open. I peeked through the crack and saw brantley laying on his stomach in bed sleeping.

I smiled at the sight of him, no matter what we go through he always and will forever hold my heart. I decided I would jump on him and wake him up that way. As I pushed the door open I gasped at what I saw. Amber, his ex laying on my side of the bed with my fiancee'.

Clothes, both his and hers, thrown everywhere meaning they were naked under the thin sheet that lay on top of them. I stood there just staring, I couldnt believe he would do this to me. He promised he would never hurt me.

I got my wits about me and finally spoke. "What the hell brantley!" He flipped over but amber still lay there sleeping. I wanted nothing more than to drag her by the hair of her head out of my house and beat her ass.

He jumped up out of bed and pulled his boxers up. I wanted to throw something at him, slap him, do something but I stood froze to the spot. He stumbled over to me and grabbed my arm and walked outside of our bedroom shutting the door.

I stopped just a few steps from the bedroom door and pulled away from him. "What the hell? Im gone for one day and youve got that whore in our bed!"

He held up his finger to his lips, "shhh."

That pissed me off that much more. "You want me to be quiet!? So I dont disturb that homewreckers sleep! I dont give a fuck if she sleeps good or not. You and her both are very lucky I dont beat both of your asses!" I got right up in his face and dared him to tell me to be quiet again.

"Look," he said holding his hands up, "I got bored last night and you wasnt here again, so I went out to the bar. She was there and I was lonely. Youre never around anymore I need some love every now and then."

I slapped him across his face hard. His head snapped back but I didnt care. "Youre a asshole, I have been planning OUR wedding that you didnt want to help with. You wouldnt be alone if you would stop popping pills and drinking and come with me and help."

He looked back at me but there was no emotion on his face. Thats what worried me most. He wasnt feeling anything. "You know I would disappoint you at our wedding if I helped. Id get something wrong."

"Well you can forget about the wedding. It seems like you got all you need right in there." I pointed towards the bedroom door. I walked towards it and slung it open. Amber was standing beside the bed just pulling brantleys shirt over her body.

I pointed at her, "you say a god damn word and Ill fuckin stomp a mudhole in your ass. I advise you to get the fuck out before I change my mind and do it anyway." She grabbed her pants and pulled them on and headed out of the room.

I grabbed a duffle bag and started shoving my clothes in it. "What are you doing?" I heard brantley say behind me. I gave a humorless chuckle and kept stuffing clothes in it.

"What does it fuckin look like?" I threw over at my shoulder.

"Looks like your making the biggest mistake of your life." He said emotionless.

Before I knew what I was doing I picked up one of his heavy boots and threw it. The boot connected with the aide of his face. "Mistake!? You think Im making a mistake. No honey you made the biggest mistake of YOUR life the moment you picked that whore up and brought her to our house!"

I kept packing my clothes and when the duffle bag was full I zipped it up and threw it over my shoulder. "Ill send kolby or mama becky to get the rest of my stuff. Dont call me when you get sober." I walked out towards the front door but stopped before I walked outside.

My heart was breaking into a million pieces. The love of my life cheated on me and doesnt seem to care. I heard his footsteps behind me.

"You walk out that door, dont you ever come back." He said, I dropped my bag and turned towards him. He smiled thinking I had decided to stay.

The tears started flowing freely then. Seeing how cold he was towards me, no emotion no love in his eyes. "What happened to us? We used to be so happy. When did things go bad?" I asked almost in a whisper.

He shrugged, "I dont know. I guess I fell out of love with you a long time ago. I dont want you anymore, Im moving on to better things. Keep the ring, pawn it, sell it whatever you wanna do."

I nodded and took the ring off my finger that I thought would never come off. I placed it in the palm of his hand and closed his hand around it. "Take care of yourself brantley." I walked back over to the door and picked my bag up and walked out to my old mustang sitting in the driveway.

I threw my bag in the back seat and slammed my car door. I started my car and drove down the driveway. I looked in my rearview mirror and saw brantley standing on the porch staring at my ring in his hand.

I drove all night that night until I made it to florida. I stopped at the first hotel and checked in. I called mama becky as soon as I was settled and told her what had happened. After that phone call I texted brantleys brother kolby and asked him to pick my stuff up from brantleys. He said he would and asked if I was okay. I replied with a simple 'I will be.' I turned my phone off and curled up on the bed crying myself to sleep.

1 year later....

I was working at a local diner as a waitress working nights mostly but whenever someone called in I would be the first to take their shift. I was run down but I needed the money.

It was a little after 1 in the morning and there was no one in the diner. I took that moment to walk outside for a smoke break. My eyes felt heavy and I probaly got a total of 4 hours of aleep over the past 36 hours. Rent had to be paid so I sucked it up and done what had to be done. I walked back into the diner and I heard on the speakers a voice from the local radio dj.

'Here is the new single from the newest and hottest thing in country music today. Heres shes my kinda crazy by brantley gilbert.' 

My heart stopped as I heard his beautiful voice coming through the speakers. I closed my eyes and the lyrics just broke my heart. I have missed him so much and I still think about the day that everything changed. The bell above the door rang as someone came in the diner.

Sal the night manager walked out feom behind the counter. "Sit anywhere you like sir, our waitress will be with you shortly." I was still stuck in a daze but I cleared my head and pulled out my paper and pen ready to take the order.

I turned and walked over to the booth where the man was sitting. I couldnt believe my eyes. Brantley sitting there drumming his fingers on the table. Watching me. I stumbled a bit but remembered what happened a year ago. I stood straighter and walked over, not looking at him.

"What can I get you?" I said very coldly.

"How bout a smile darlin." He said smoothly.

I rolled my eyes. "We only serve food and drinks here. You want a smile theres a bar right across the way there. Im sure you will find lots of them there."

I still had my eyes glued to my pad of paper, my pen hovering waiting for him to say what he really wanted. After a few minutes I turned my back "let me know when you decide."

That statement was about more than just his food choices. I was wanting ro see if he really had changed. I took the rag from behind the counter and started wiping tables down that were already squeaky clean. I just wanted to keep busy. I wanted to keep my mind off of brantley.

I saw movement from the corner of my eye. I looked up and brantley was motioning for me. I walked over pulling my pen and paper pad out again. "Finally decide on something?"

I still wouldnt look at him, he sighed "yeah burger, fries, and a mountain dew."

I scribbled it down and ripped the paper off. "Alright be right back with your drink." I said turning before he could say anything else. I gave the order to the cook and got his drink ready. I waited until his food was done before I took it to him.

"Heres your food and your drink. Enjoy." I said trying to turn away but he grabbed my wrist.

"Why dont you have a seat? Looks like im your only customer so you cant be busy."

I growled and plopped down on the other side of the booth looking at anywhere but at him. I kept quiet, the only sound was the music comig from the speakers and the hum from the fridge behind the counter.

"Would you just look at me (Y/N)? Please?" He said sounding exhausted. I sighed and looked him dead in the eyes. Shutting off all emotions. I waited for him to speak, he sighed and closed his eyes. He shook his head, "you look tired."

I chuckled humorlessly, "wow thanks. Thats a nice way of saying I look like shit."

He shook his head, "no I meant it just like it came out. You look tired. But youre still beautiful."

I snickered and rolled my eyes. "Rents gotta be paid brantley. I have to work to make rent." He nodded and he opened his mouth but before he could speak I cut him off. "Why the hell are you here brantley?"

He grabbed for my hand but I pulled back. "I came to see you darlin."

I rolled my eyes, "well you saw me. Now can I get back to work?"

I went to get up but this time he did grab my hand. "Please just talk to me. Its been a year. Im sober now. Thinking clearly for the first time."

I smiled at that, "thats great brantley." I pulled my hand from his and stood up. "Im really happy that you have turned your life around. I heard your song on the radio right before you came in. Its great, just hate that its about that damn whore." I said the last part through gritted teeth. He shook his head and opened his mouth as if to say something but the bell rang above the door before he could.

I turned to see a young couple that looked weary from a road trip come in. "Hey yall sit anywhere you want. Ill be right there." I turned back towards brantley who still hadnt touched a bite of his food. I shrugged, "duty calls. Heres your check, if you want anything else let me know and Ill adjust it. If not sal can ring you up when youre done. Bye brantley, take care of yourself."

The younger couple ordered breakfast platters and coffee so I was pretty busy with refilling their cups and everything. Right as my shift ended an hour later I walked outside and lit me a much needed cigarette. I started walking over to my mustang but slowed up when I noticed brantleys truck parked right beside it. Brantley was leaning against the side of it casually smoking a cigarette himself.

I walked over just as he threw his cigarette to the ground. "There you are." He said smiling.

I fished my keys out of my purse and went to unlock my door. Brantley stopped me before I could climb in. "Hey, I was hoping we could talk for a minute." He said, his voice filled with hope.

I sighed and slumped against my car. "Im very tired brantley. I wanna go home and go to bed. Make it quick." I sighed glancing at my watch.

"Okay, look I know things ended bad between us and everything." I raised one of my eyebrows at him and crossed my arms. "Whats your point brantley?"

He sighed, "I dont know what Im trying to say. Look, mama told me where you were and I wanted to bring some stuff to you. I thought you might want it." He handed me a box the size of a shoe box. I took it and nodded.

"I uh, got a show the next town over. If you want Ill leave you a ticket at will call." He said rubbing the back of his neck.

I turned and climbed in my car and placed the box beside me in the seat. "Thanks but no thanks. Im swamped at work and I cant afford to take off."

He nodded and leaned down, "I know I just thought...."

I cut him off before he could speak. "Nothings changed brantley. Now if youll excuse me Im going home to get some sleep before my next shift in a few hours."

I cranked my car and didnt give him a chance to reply. I knew if he did then I would probably break. It was hard enough seeing him tonight and trying to act like I didnt care. All I wanted to do was throw myself in his arms and let him kiss away this last miserable lonely year.

Also in the back of my mind was what he did. He cheated when he promised he never would. He promised he would always love me but he told me that day he fell out of love with me. I could never forget that.

I drove back to my small apartment and headed straight for the bed. Sleep came easy but those blue eyes haunted my dreams.

[marshmallow-phd]

Fighting Instinct

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Supernatural, Wolf Au

Pairing: Jongdae x Reader

Summary: He went out of his way to ignore you. You saw his kindness towards everyone else, but he showed you only irritation. And you couldn’t blame him, considering your first meeting. However, little do you know that he’s hiding a dark world, one that you’re pulled into against your will….

Warning: none

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I 15 I Final

**

Microbiology was your least favorite class of the semester. And it wasn’t even because you were basically useless when it came to absorbing scientific information or keeping the different theories and discoveries straight. You did well enough to pass the class with a decent grade.

No, it was because you were stuck taking the class with Kim Jongdae.

You didn’t hate him. In fact, you might have even had a bit of a crush on him due to his good looks. Okay, and due to how sweet he could be… to everyone else. He mostly ignored you and he had a semi-good reason for it so you couldn’t completely blame him.

The first time you met Jongdae was at a house party. A house party that you didn’t want to go to in the first place. You were supposed to be going on a date with a guy from your Chinese Dynasties class, but he canceled at the last minute and made it abundantly clear there would be no rescheduling. You were in a miserable mood and all you want to do when you were in miserable moods was curl up under your soft throw blanket on the couch and watch a mind-numbing romantic comedy. But Eun Na was having none of that.

With more force than necessary, Eun Na dragged you out of your apartment and into her car, driving you to some basketball player’s parents’ house for an overly extravagant party you were pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to be having in the first place. Silently from the passenger’s seat, you cursed Eun Na who knew you hated crowds and drunk people. Crowds of drunk people were a category that you went nowhere near. But she didn’t seem to care that night.

As she parked down the street from the house that was located on the outskirts of the rich neighborhood it resided in, you talked yourself through the square breathing technique your dad had taught you when you were younger in an effort to calm your nerves. Eun Na forced you out of the car and you trudged slowly behind her.

The house was stuffed full of college students way beyond the fire safety code. Music blared from the front living room, making you wonder if the people standing right next to the speakers had permanently damaged eardrums. In the back was the kitchen where half-full bottles of vodka, tequila, and other alcohols were scattered all over the counter among abandoned solo cups and ripped open cardboard cases of beer. Eun Na didn’t let go of you until she was right in front of the liquor bottles, grabbing a two liter of coke in the process.

“One drink!” Eun Na yelled over the noise and chatter. “You only have to have one drink! Then I won’t nag you anymore!”

“Fine!” you growled back. Perhaps you could find a plant to pour it in once her back was turned. After shoving a rum and coke in your hand, she stared at you expectantly. Knowing she wouldn’t leave it alone until she saw you take a sip, you brought the cup to your lips. The mixed drink tasted nothing like the ones you’d been forced to try in the past. You couldn’t explain what it was, only that you wanted more.

In a time that was a record for you, you downed the drink and asked for another. Eun Na gladly obliged. Four drinks later and you were starting to feel it, both in your head and in your stomach. Stumbling to find a bathroom before it was too late, you’d ran into Jongdae in the hallway. He’d stared at you strangely, like you were the only one wandering around drunk and on the verge of being sick (hint: you most definitely weren’t). Hesitantly, he reached out to your swaying figure. And that’s when you threw up on his shoes.

After getting you to a bathroom, he made sure you were okay and then high-tailed it out of there. Needless to say, you hadn’t touched an alcoholic drink since.

That was at the end of last semester. To your relief, you hadn’t seen him again after that night. Until the fall semester started and you walked into your biology class to find him sitting right there in the second row. When the two of you made eye contact, the smile vanished from his face and every muscle in his jaw visibly stiffened. He cut off the contact and kept his gaze down. Your shoulders dropped, understanding why you wouldn’t exactly be his favorite person. Thinking it was best for everyone, you broke your seating rule and sat more towards the back so you wouldn’t be even in his peripheral.

It had been two months of excruciating humiliation. No matter what you did, he always seemed to get to class before you could. Being the friendly and personable type, he was always chatting away with someone around him. But as soon as you entered the classroom, his entire demeanor changed. Sometimes, he didn’t even need to be looking your direction. It was like he had a sixth sense for your presence and it created a dark cloud over him.

Today, like any other day, you simply kept your eyes down, not daring to look at him as you hurried to your seat near the back. Only when you were safe in your desk did you dare to look. Usually when you did, you just saw the back of his wavy, dark brown hair. It fell over his forehead at the perfect length and curled at the nape of his neck. Sometimes it would shake from his laughter and you wished you were closer to hear how it sounded. This was not one of those times.

When your eyes met his, you froze. Jongdae was turned around in his seat, staring up at you. But the look in his rich, russet-colored eyes was different than he’d ever given you before. There was genuine concern as his eyebrows knitted together. In a panic, you cut off the gaze, shrinking in your seat. Confused, you tried not to think too much into why he would seem worried for you while you were just embarrassed at how that little interaction was making your heart run a marathon.

What was wrong with you? You hardly knew the guy. Okay, so he was pretty attractive. But that was never the bases for your crushes in the past. And yet, here you were. You liked nice guys and that was problem. He was practically an angel. If you didn’t see him always volunteer to help out someone who didn’t understand or pick up pens that his neighbors dropped, you might have been able to completely ignore him and go on with your life. No such luck. Instead, you were forced to sit there and watch in complete awe without receiving the same. It seemed that no matter what, you couldn’t get Jongdae out of your head. 

There was something inside that was yelling at you to go take the seat next to him before that model-like girl arrived and took her usual place beside him. Where you wanted to be. But you just couldn’t do it.

Letting out a low groan, you laid your head down on the desk until the graduate teaching assistant turned off the lights to start the slide show on today’s lesson. When you risked it again, you look at Jongdae, who’d turned back around to the front like nothing had happened.

**

You were utterly exhausted as you stepped into your apartment. It was your lucky day since you didn’t have to go work at the coffee shop tonight. After about four hours in the library with Eun Na, you were all caught up on homework and free to spend the next day however you deemed fit. 

Well, there was your short morning class. Okay, and you did have a small afternoon shift at the shop. So really, you could spend your free time between eleven and four however you wanted to. Which meant dramas and junk food for five uninterrupted hours to look forward to and no homework to stress about.

Once the door was locked behind you, you dropped your bag on the couch and headed towards the kitchen to find something to munch on. A vibrating sensation from your back pocket made you jump. Pulling out your phone, you read the caller ID: Eun Na.

“Hello?” you answered, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder while you shuffled leftovers and other foods around in your refrigerator.

“Hey, girl! What’s up?”

You laughed at Eun Na’s upbeat greeting as if you hadn’t just seen her. “Nothing much, just trying to figure out what to eat for dinner.” You picked up a white Styrofoam container, shaking it gently. “Chinese food from last Saturday is not a good choice, is it?”

“Ew, no. Throw that out.” There’s a slight shuffling on her end of the phone and then she was back. “Hey, you don’t work next Saturday evening, right?”

“Uh,” you looked up at your calendar that was magnetized onto the freezer door. “No, I don’t. Tae asked to if we could switch so I only work the mid-day shift. Why? What’s up?”

“A few friends from my neighborhood are having a bonfire and I want you to come with me.”

You whined. “Seriously, Eun Na! I said no more parties. You know what happen last time.”

The one secret you kept from Eun Na was your crush on Jongdae. You knew she would roll her eyes at you, having seen firsthand how he’d gone out of his way to avoid you. But she had heard about your embarrassing first meeting and it’d been your tool to avoid all future escapades.

“It’s not a party,” she argued. “It’s more like a kickback. Twelve of us at the most. Come on, I need my best friend there. Please.” Like a kicked puppy, she started whimpering. You couldn’t stand it when she did that.

No was no longer an option. You slid down to the old, peeling tile floor of your kitchen, leaning your back against the cabinets. “Okay, I’ll go. But not too late okay?”

Eun Na squealed. “Not a problem! Thank you, (y/n)! You’re the best!”

You rolled your eyes, not understanding what the big deal was. But it made Eun Na happy. And, considering what she’d done for you in the past, it was the least you could do for her.

Settling on yesterday’s pizza, you popped two slices on a plate in the microwave and waited for it yell so you knew it was done. Involuntarily, your mind drifted to Jongdae and the look he’d given you. It was almost like he was thinking something was going to happen to you, an accident or some other disastrous situation. Though you didn’t know the reasoning behind the expression, you didn’t think it was pity. If you were honest, you were glad to get some sort of interaction with him that wasn’t pure irritation.

The blaring noise from the microwave pulled your thoughts away from your unnerving classmate and to your stomach, which was gurgling with anticipation. In a somewhat un-ladylike manner, you scarfed down the pizza, remembering to take a few sips of water in between. Satisfied by dinner, but still not quite full, you went back to your freezer and pulled out the pint of chocolate ice cream resting on the top shelf. Then frowned when you took off the lid. Apparently, you had absentmindedly taking a spoonful here and there, leaving only a pitiful amount at the bottom of the cup. With a pout, you put the pint back in the freezer and grabbed your keys, knowing that small little bite was just not going to cut it.

Back out on the streets, you walked diligently to the corner store. The sun hadn’t completely set yet, but the sidewalks were already at a spooky level of darkness. This was a walk you had taken before, but something about the air was sending your senses into overdrive.

As always, you made it to the store and quickly picked out more chocolate ice cream from the cheapest brand. You grabbed M&Ms as a last minute treat for surviving the day. A pathetic excuse for more chocolate, but one you wouldn't disagree with. Grocery bag in hand and purse strewn across your shoulder, you exited the store just to run in what felt like a brick wall. You would have fallen to your butt right there on the concrete if a hand hadn’t reached out and grabbed your arm, steadying you out.

The one who had blocked your path was an obnoxiously tall man around your age. His light brown hair was disheveled on his forehead and his big eyes were wide with worry.

“I’m sorry!” he said quickly. “Are you okay?”

You took your arm back, smiling at him to let him know that you were fine. “All good. Have a good night.”

Before you could get fully past him, the guy stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. “Wait!”

Biting your cheek to keep your mouth shut from a snarky comment that you’d knew you would agonize over later, you turned around to look at him. “Yes?”

“Oh, um, well.” His eyes flickered around while he searched for an excuse. Shaking your head, you began to turn back.

“Just let her go, Chanyeol.”

You stopped. Jongdae appeared behind the tall one – apparently named Chanyeol – and looked at you with that irritated expression again. So much for the concern. To add to the surprise, the nosy guy from the student union walked up beside Jongdae and rounded out the trio. His look was softer this time, closer to indifferent than the cold stare from your earlier encounter.

You were suddenly very intimidated. All three boys were of different heights, but all of them were muscular and toned and definitely not the kind to be messed with. There was nothing about their stances that were threatening towards you, in fact Chanyeol was looking more like a neglected puppy with the frown on his face. But something in your gut was screaming that underneath their pretty faces was something very dangerous. It was best to get out of there.

“Have a good night.”

You only made it about five steps before Jongdae called out to you. Reluctantly, you glanced over your shoulder.

“Be careful.” Sincerity was clearly in his words, but you had a hard time swallowing his warning. You already knew to be careful. Who was he to try and act this way now?