#unapologetically angsty

[lilyminer]

Hey y'all, here's some more Emerald Duo character headcanon writing. A bit of a throwback since I haven't done this in a while. For anyone not caught up on my weirdly elaborate headcanons/sorta au, I made up a whole 3000 year timeline for the life of c!Philza, and most of it is sad cuz I'm an angst writer :) You don't need to know much about my headcanons for this tho, just go with the flow. Enjoy.

Like The Spring Thaw

The reign of the Antarctic Empire was a turbulent time, not just for Phil and Techno of course, the political conflicts, scarcity, and relentless environment was a constant onslaught against all the people they ruled over.

Philza and Technoblade's friendship was new, at least by an immortals standards. Techno had been so young when they first met, brought together as allies on the grand battlefields of a war neither of them really cared about. Win? Lose? It didn't matter. Techno was there to try to tame the influence of the blood god hidden deep inside his brain. Phil had been fighting to forget at first, to forget what he's lost, the home, the community, the friends. But nothing builds a bond like fighting for the same cause. Techno gave him something to fight to protect again, after all those years of not having time to take anyone under his wing. So once the war ended the two decided to try to bring peace to a divided world full of conflict.

They had their laughs, taking over the whole world via a bureaucratic loophole, yeah people got pretty pissed at them for that. But something about having a group of people to take care of again helped Phil fix some broken part of himself he left to fester years ago. He was still, and would surely forever be haunted by the memory of his long and winding path in life. The screams of those who had taken shelter in his temple as it was raided became a echo forever reverberating through his head as he slept. But now, instead of nearly being smothered in his sleep by his fellow soldiers, furious at his habit of giving away their position, there was a gentle knock at his door, a friend who's head was filled with much the same noise there to make him a tea and chat away the nightmares.

That castle became home. Sure he was forced to maintain a persona faker then any he'd worn before and the cold and exposed machinery made binding his wings out of the way a must, but they lived a life of plenty. Phil began to enjoy the cold, at home above the layers of ice and frost. Eventually, it became easy to ignore the small and inconvenient plights of his people. Without even knowing it he became the kind of ruler he swore he'd always hate. The apathetic king who saw violent gangs of thieves roaming the countryside as a non-issue. The monarch filled with so much hatred they allowed two armies to needlessly fight for decades. With a uncharacteristic lack of his usual foresight he was among those tyrants now, and so when reports came from the fishermen on the outskirts of the empire that a deadly plague was whipping out every man, woman, and child, the duel emperors brushed it off as yet another mild health issue. Just like the last illness, nothing to worry about.

And in the blink of an eye it was all over. Him and Techno watched in horror over the course of a handful of weeks as the treatments they knew had no effect on this illness. Their advisors locked them away in the castle, hoping to protect them but it only made the helplessness worse. Their doctors, nurses, midwives, wise-folk, and scientists dropped like flies. As they made the decree that all must evacuate the death-cursed city it seemed less were alive to hear it by the minute. All supply lines and social structure broke down, their empire fell to ruin while their backs were turned.

Him and Techno evacuated. Like cowards.

They were hated for a time, scorned for their inability to save their people. But not nearly long enough for Phil. At times he felt the need to remind people, even as generations passed. How could death on such a scale be forgotten? He had truly become what he hated all along, not even brave enough to fight back on others behalf. His lady was his world, but it pained him to know he had become the omen of death that he had been accused of being. Techno didn't speak much anymore, but he knew that similar feelings must be bubbling up for him as well. The two were more similar then they cared to admit.

Soon Techno was on the road again, Phil settled into a cottage all his own, but it was far too lonely. He began to feel better day by day, year by year. He laughed to himself when his crows once filled with wanderlust returned home with stories of the fearsome warrior of the blood god who opposed governments of any kind. It seemed Techno had taken a far more proactive approach to the beliefs he too had felt solidify after their great failure. He hoped the memories didn't haunt his old friend like they did to him. He did nothing with the pain though, no actions of great conviction, which he knew would make it worse in time. But his cruelty had been transformed back into the compassion he had been missing all these years along the way. With it, he felt any remaining pride he had for his days of leadership fade. The days he spent alone filled his old soul with the soft and tender warmth of a hearth fire. It was time to move on, he had sought out those who hated him for long enough. At the very least it was time to unbind his wings. It was time to fly again.

[canterbury-bell]

Bunnydoll Week 2023

Day 3: Hanahaki

While reading about this prompt, I saw the flowers often represent the character they're in love with. So Ragatha gets petunias based on Jax, because they can symbolize hope and never giving up, or they can symbolize anger and resentment. Jax gets mourning brides to represent Ragatha, symbolizing unfortunate attachments or love that will end badly; or, on the brighter side, admiration.

[kristannafever]

Second Chances

Kristanna Modern AU Rated: Explicit (See tags) WC: 3163

Summary: It's been eight months since Anna's ex broke up with her in a brutal way. Her concerned sister sets her up on a date, and when she meets Kristoff, it does not go well. Afterward, upon getting an earful from Elsa, Anna realizes her mistake and goes about making things right. What happens between them afterward gives them each a second chance at love and the life they both want to have.

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

“Anna, I am breaking up with you.”

Anna nearly choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken.  She stared at her boyfriend with wide eyes, not sure what she had just heard.  “What?”

“It’s over.”

Panic began to well in the pit of her stomach.  Her hands started to shake as she set the coffee mug back down on the table.  “What do you mean?”

He heaved a dramatic sigh.  “You heard me.  We’re done.”

“Where is this coming from,” she pleaded, getting up and walking over to where he was standing in the kitchen.   He’d just gotten back from his run.  When he left the house, it was as if nothing was any different.  And now he was telling her that they were done?

He rolled his eyes.  “Oh come on, Anna.  We haven’t had sex in weeks.  And when we do, you’re so…” he moved his hands around like he was fishing for the word, “…uninspired.   I mean, you don’t even give good blow jobs.”

Tears welled up in her eyes.   She had thought the problems they were facing were just a bit of a slump.  Just the day before she’d gone out and bought some sexy lingerie to surprise him with after the romantic dinner they had planned for that weekend.   Was that not happening now?

“Oh, and just so you know,” he said casually as he turned away, “I’ve started seeing other women.  So I can get… you know… taken care of.   You don’t even know how to kiss properly.”

Anna felt sick to her stomach, watching helplessly after him as he walked towards their bedroom to take a shower.  Despite having said some mean things to her from time to time, what he had just said was downright cruel, and she felt ashamed of herself.  She felt stupid and pathetic. 

Wiping her eyes, she went back to the table and sat down slowly, staring into her morning coffee that she’d actually been enjoying only a moment ago, trying to figure out in her mind what had just happened.  The long and short of it?  She didn’t please him and he’d been seeing other women. 

How had she not known this?  She had thought everything was just… normal.   He had never been a very enthusiastic lover, and he always met his end while Anna had to often take care of herself, and now she had to wonder if it was because she was just that bad at pleasing a man?

He'd been her first serious boyfriend.  Her first real love.  The first guy she’d ever moved out with.  And now all that was coming crashing down around her.   Three years of her life, gone, just like that.

Anna buried her head into her hands and sobbed.

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

“This is a nice place, Anna.”

Anna didn’t respond, she just let her sister in without a word.  The apartment had been his, of course she had to move out when he dumped her. 

Her sister turned around at Anna’s silence.  “You know I hate that man for what he did to you.”

“I know,” Anna said through a sigh.  “I hate him too.”  She told Elsa that he had cheated on her but she did not tell her sister the awful things that her ex had said to her.  And they hadn’t ended in the kitchen that day.  She had begged and pleaded with him for hours afterwards and was met with yet more harsh comments on what an awful woman she was.

Anna led them into the living room and poured them each a glass of red wine from the bottle that was sitting on the coffee table.   She watched her sister as her eyes went around, taking in the small apartment before settling onto her gaze.      

“So, have you been on any dates?”

“Elsa…” Anna sighed with frustration.  “Why won’t you drop it?”

“Anna, it’s been what?  Eight months?  You need to move on.”

Anna was silent and looked down into her wine.  She knew she needed to move on, but how could she do that?  Apparently, she had nothing to offer a man.  What possible hope did she have of making something work.

Elsa set her wine glass down on the table and turned towards her on the couch.  “I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to get out here sooner.  Work has been incredibly demanding, only now that I see you, I feel like that is a pathetic excuse.”

She frowned.  Did she really look that bad?  “It’s okay, Elsa.  I know how important your job is.  And you still call me almost every night.”

“I do, which is probably why you’re tired of telling me you need to get back out there.  You have to see that it’s time to live your life again, don’t you?”

Anna did know that.  And she wanted to, desperately.  But what man would want her?  She’d been hit on a few times only to brush the guy off knowing that she would end up disappointing him in the end.   If she was honest with herself, she didn’t think she’d be able to stomach going through that again.

“Listen, Anna.  I have a friend who’s fairly new to our firm who happens to have moved from here.  She has a brother, and she says-”

Anna’s eyes went wide.  “No way, Elsa.  I am absolutely not about to be set up right now.”

“Please, Anna.”  Elsa reached out and grabbed her free hand.  “For me?   Please?  You can’t be afraid to start dating again.”

She pulled her hand away from her sisters and set the wine down on the coffee table as she got up.  “No.  Absolutely not.”

Elsa followed her as she walked into the kitchen.  “Give me one good reason why you won’t?” her sister demanded. 

Anna pursed her lips.  She would never breathe a word of what her ex had said to her to another living soul, and that was giving her little option for an excuse.   “I… don’t want to.”

Her sister put her hands on her hips.  “It’s just one date.  Who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky.  Maybe what you need is a night of hot sex to get back on the horse.”

Her face lit up with heat.  “What the fuck, Elsa?  I do not need to hear that coming from my sister.”  Not only that, she did not need a reminder of how awful she was in bed.  It was a constant source of shame that hung over her head.

Elsa gave her a gentle smile.  “Sorry.  I was just trying to make a point.  You have to stop keeping yourself from things that make you happy.  You haven’t even gone to the gym or hung out with your friends since you left your ex.”

“He dumped me, but yeah, I know I haven’t.”

“You need to start living again.”

Anna heaved a deep sigh.  Perhaps it was time.  She’d certainly seen plenty of men who she thought were attractive.  Enough that she’d pleasured herself to the thoughts of being with a man again.  That at least she knew she wasn’t bad at.  In fact, she was practically an expert at getting herself off now. 

“Can I tell my friend yes?”

Anna looked to her sister’s pleading eyes.  “Fine.  One date.”

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

The bar was packed, making it hard for Anna to pick out the man that she was supposed to meet.  She’d been given a general description.  Tall guy, big build, blond…  Anna had formed many mental pictures in her mind of what he might actually look like.

She was told that he’d be somewhere in the bar waiting for her, and every blond Anna looked at seemed to already be on a date or clearly out with a group of friends.  The guy Anna was looking for was supposed to be alone.

She muscled her way to the bar where groups of people were gathered around the stools and talking, waiting on drinks.  Then she spotted a blond man sitting at the end, surrounded by women.  The guy was absolutely huge; his t-shirt stretched tight over his biceps and chest.  And he was gorgeous.  His rugged handsomeness was undeniable.  That was why there were women all over him.

Thinking that couldn’t be her date, Anna went to turn away, when his eyes caught hers and widened with something like recognition.

“Hey, are you Anna?” he called to her over the music and loud conversations

She nodded, not wanting to shout back to him, and he got up from his stool and approached her.  Every single woman he was surrounded by watched all of his movements with lusty interest.

His imposing height loomed over her. “I’m Kristoff,” he said, sticking out his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” Anna responded, shaking it and thinking it wasn’t nice at all.  Not after he’d been hanging out with all those stunning women while waiting for her to show up for their date.  What the hell?  Who does that?

“They’re super busy and wouldn’t let me grab a table until you showed up,” he said.

He already sounded bored.  What the hell had Anna gotten herself into.  “Okay.”

Kristoff shrugged and took off to find a table.  Anna followed, kind of hoping they wouldn’t find one.  The guy was clearly someone who could get whoever he wanted and probably often did. 

Towards the back of the bar near the bathrooms, he spied an open table and made a b-line to it.  Anna sat on the stool across from him and put her purse on the edge of the high table.

He smiled.  “It’s quieter over here too.”

There was nothing but cool confidence behind that smile and Anna squirmed again thinking of how many gorgeous women had been salivating over him moments before.  “You sure didn’t waste your time talking to the other ladies, I see.”

He frowned.  “They were talking to me.  I wasn’t talking to them.”

Anna rolled her eyes.  “Sure.  A guy like you must just hate it when women hang all over him.”

His unhappy face turned into a scowl.  “What are you saying?”

“Look, I agreed to go on this date, but not with a player, okay?”

Kristoff became emotionless.  “Have me pegged, do you?” he asked evenly.

Anna could only shrug.  “It’s not that hard to figure out.  The reason a guy who looks like you is single, is that he wants to stay single.”

He stared at her, expression impossible to read.

“Lets just save us both time.  I refuse to be a conquest, so you can just go back to all those ladies at the bar who can barely keep it in their pants.”  Anna got up, keeping her eyes off his unreadable face, feeling relieved.  She didn’t even want to go on this date in the first place.  She was almost glad that this guy, as hot as he was, wasn’t going to work out.

Anna spared him a glance as she turned away and was a little shocked to see profound sadness in his eyes.  It was almost enough for her to turn back around and say something. 

Almost. 

~   ~   ~   ~   ~

Anna looked at her ringing phone.  It was Elsa.  She let out a long sigh and answered.  “Hello?”

“What the fuck, Anna?  Why the hell did you brush off that date last night?”

She groaned inwardly.  This was not a conversation she wanted to have.  “He wasn’t my type.”

“Bullshit!  My friend talked to her brother and he told her what you said to him.  That was pretty awful, Anna.”

She frowned.  Had it been?  She was only speaking the truth.  “Well… you didn’t tell me the guy was a total player.”

Elsa huffed with frustration.  “He’s not!  He hasn’t been on a date in a year!”

“Elsa, he had women, and I mean gorgeous women, all over him when I arrived at the bar.”

“And he was what?  Flirting with them?”

Anna thought back to the scene at the bar.  One of the women had her hand on his arm and was talking his ear off, another one giving him fuck me eyes from his other side, two behind him waiting for their turn, and he was… sitting there.  He was staring at something.  Or was it nothing.  Then he’d looked over and his eyes had widened… they kind of looked a little… well at the time it looked like recognition but thinking back, they seemed a little more… relieved?

Anna gasped.  “Oh no, what have I done?”

Her sister sighed.  “Anna, you might need to talk to someone.  I don’t know what Hans did to you, but it was something.   I have doubts that he was never abusive to you even though you assured me that he never was.”

“He said some mean things, Elsa.  That’s all.”  Anna would give her that much, no more.  Not ever.  No one would ever know of her humiliation.

There was silence on the other end of the line for a beat.  “So maybe you said some things you didn’t mean to a nice guy because you are still so scared of putting yourself out there?”

Anna’s stomach rolled with unease to think about the hurtful way she’d brushed Kristoff off.  “Yeah.  I guess I am.”

“Well, at least you can recognise that.”

“Elsa, I feel terrible.  Is there any way I can get his number?  To apologise?”

“Well…I can ask my friend, although I have to warn you, she was pretty pissed that you treated her brother that way.”

“Please try, Elsa.  I feel awful and I need to tell him that I am sorry.”

“Alright.  I’ll call you back in five, okay?”

“Okay.”  Anna hung up the phone and rung it in her hands.  She could not believe she’d been so mean to someone and tears sprung in her eyes.  It made her feel terrible to think she’d said something hurtful to someone.  It reminded her of what her ex had said to her, and that Kristoff guy did not deserve that, even if he was a player.

Her phone rang in her hands and startled her to the point she almost threw it across the room.  “Hello?”

“Okay, I got the number.”

“Oh, thank you, Elsa.  Thank you so much.”  She sniffed.  “And tell your friend-”

“Anna, are you crying?”

She nodded and started to sob.  “I feel so bad, Elsa.  I was so mean to that poor man.  Please tell your friend to tell her brother that I am so sorry and that he can expect me to contact him to say so that I can apologize and-”

“Anna… Anna!”

She sniffed and reigned in her emotions.  This was insane.  She needed to get a grip on herself.  For all those months she carried all that hurt when her ex broke up with her and it was all starting to come out after treating someone else poorly.  It was becoming a little clearer to her that there were some issues she was going to have to deal with, and soon.

“Anna?”

Sniff.  “Yeah?”

“You need to stop beating yourself up about this, okay?”

“What if he doesn’t accept my apology?” Anna asked, wiping her damp cheeks. 

“Well, then I guess you just have to live with it.”

She shoulders slumped, suddenly exhausted.  “Yeah.  I guess I made the bed I have to lie in it.”

Her sister was silent on the other end for a moment.  “Whatever happens, Anna… it’ll be okay.  Everything will be okay.  You’ll have plenty of other chances.”

Anna nodded to herself, steeling her emotions for the text she was about to send.  “I know.  Thank you, Elsa.”

*****

Kristoff looked at the text from the number that he did not know, and set the phone down in contemplation.

He knew it was coming.  His sister had called him and given him the heads up she’d passed his number along to the woman who was so rude to him last night.  To say he was conflicted was an understatement. 

He hadn’t been hurt like that in a while.  Which was weird because he didn’t know this woman.  It was just that she passed him off so easily that it made him second guess himself a bit.  In retrospect, he should have been ruder to the women vying for his attention at the bar.  Why couldn’t this Anna understand that he had absolutely zero interest in them.  Instead, she’d taken one look at him and decided he was one of those pigs that used women as conquests.  And that fucking hurt.

That was why he’d agreed to be set up.  Trying to meet someone on line or even in a club brought out all the wrong kinds of women for him.  He had yet to meet someone that was looking for something serious, not just some fun fling or one night stand. 

He sighed, and read the message again.

Hi Kristoff, this is Anna, the woman who was rude to you last night and who you wish you probably never met.  I need to say that I am sorry for how I acted and what I said to you.  Clearly! I have issues to deal with.  I would hope you have it in your heart to meet me quickly so that I may apologize in person.  If you wish to never talk to me again though, I completely understand.  If I don’t hear back from you in a couple of days, I will assume I have my answer and delete your number.   I am sorry.

It read like an email, and quite frankly a little bit of a cry for help.  He certainly had his own issues, and he could not deny that her acknowledging her own had softened his attitude towards how she had treated him.  It wasn’t like he was exactly innocent of never behaving poorly when he was dealing with things.  When his sister had let him know to expect her to contact him, he just shrugged and assumed he’d delete the message and move on.  Only having read it and its sincerity…

He started typing.

Hi Anna.  Thank you for reaching out.  Please don’t be too hard on yourself.  If you would like to talk, we could meet for a coffee?

He read it three times and hit send before he changed his mind.  He’d just set his phone down when it dinged.

He chuckled.  “That was fast.”

Thank you so much Kristoff!  Would tomorrow work?  I could meet you at 11 at that coffee shop that’s just on the corner of 10th and Elm?

He typed back;

Sure.  See you then

Anna immediately hearted his message and he set his phone down.  He’d been watching the game on TV and he turned his attention back to it, only in the back of his mind he had other thoughts about how seeing this woman again was going to go.

---

Next Chapter

[elfcollector]

there for you

rating: teen

relationships: platonic mason & the detective, mentioned adam/detective

warnings: none

summary: "No, no, it’s my fault, it’s my ——”  They spin and their smile is horrible, tight, mocking, and their voice goes too loud, too hurt “— it’s my fault for thinking I’d ever be enough for him!”

When there’s a knock at the door to their room, it’s all Blake can manage to choke out, “Go away.”

But the reply isn’t the silence they’d expected — and it isn’t the sound of Adam’s apology, which is what they’d stupidly, stupidly hoped for.  It’s gruffer, the voice on the other side of the door that says, “Don’t start sounding like me, Blake.  Your stupidly big heart is half of your charm.”

Despite the misery making a home in the soft center of their chest, Blake laughs out something soft and surprised and hoarse.  “You can come in, Mason.  ‘M sorry, I didn’t realize.”

The door opens, a slide of yellow light cutting through the darkness of the unlit room.  That darkness seems to surprise Mason a bit, if the way his shoulders hike briefly is any indication — when his eyes settle on Blake, they widen a little further, his lips thinning.

It’s strange, to see the Detective like this.  He’s seen them battered, bleeding, dying — but they’d always had a smile or a joke, that unshakeable confidence outshouting the pessimism that seemed like it should have made them less.  He’s seen them endure Adam’s stilted affections without ever so much as wincing, let alone seeming actually wounded.  But now, they’re curled on the edge of the bed, blankets wrapped around their shoulders in a makeshift cocoon, hair a mess and eyes lined with dark circles and red.  They sniffle, managing a weak smile at his apparent assessment and their awareness that they haven’t passed it.

“Hey.  Sorry I look like shit.”  Mason closes the door and doesn’t turn the light on, and they breathe out a relieved breath as the darkness lessens their headache marginally.  “It’s ‘cause I feel like shit.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” the vampire says as he crosses the room and, after a beat, sits beside them on the bed.  It creaks under his weight, the dip causing Blake to lean further into him, and he doesn’t flinch — Blake doesn’t bother wondering if that’s because he’s truly comfortable with them or because he knows just how Adam pulled away from them.  They just stare down at their knees and smile something pasted - on.  Mason continues, “None of us have really seen you for days, and I can’t remember the last time you had a lay-in.  Normally you’re up and at ‘em in the mornings, let alone by noon.”

“I don’t care.  I wanna sulk in the dark.”  They laugh around statement, but the way the words choke against their throat makes the sound a poor approximation of their usual sarcastic charm.  “Unless you’re here to drag me back to the light?”

“I told you I don’t make a habit of telling people how to live their lives,” Mason reminds them.  “That usually extends to ‘dragging them’ around.”

“Thought it might be a mission.  You’d listen to Adam if he was all like, ‘The detective has been shirking their duties in favor of their silly emotions.  Go collect them, Mason, so they can do their job.’”  They don’t even try to make the imitation a good one — they just hope they can drag a laugh out of Mason.  When there’s not so much as a chuckle, they look up at him with their red eyes, a brow quirked.

“I wouldn’t listen to Adam,” he says, finally, and Blake’s eyes widen.  “Not about this.”

They don’t know what to say to that.  They know Mason’s their friend, but the agent’s loyalty to Adam has always seemed so...absolute.  They manage to snap their mouth shut and turn back to stare forward towards the door, leaning a little further into the man’s side.  The silence stretches for a few minutes, Blake estimates, before they softly ask, “I’m probably worrying Felix, huh?”

“And Nate,” Mason adds, and doesn’t add ‘And Adam,’ true as that may be.  Adam doesn’t get to be miserable about the pain he inflicted and isn’t healing.  “And me.”

Blake laughs quietly.  Not surprised that he’s worried for them — they’re all past that, and Blake knows they’re loved — but that he’s admitted it.  The sound is a little less croaked.  “Sorry.  I’m just...doing really bad.”

Mason inhales and then breathes out a sigh.  “I think that’s what has us so worried,” he admits.  When Blake doesn’t reply, just breathes, too steady to be natural, he continues.  “Adam’s a dick —”

That gets something out of them, a muttered, “Tell me about it.”

“— But none of us have seen you like this.  About Adam or anything else.”  The agent wishes he had a smoke.  It would at least give him something to do with his hands as he dealt with the kind of emotional bullshit that doesn’t ever feel right from his mouth.  And he so badly doesn’t want to fuck this up.  “You’ve been — pretty plucky about his bullshit repression up ‘til now.”

Blake is quiet for a long moment.  Mason thinks they might not respond at all, and that would suit him just fine, so long as the silence and the company might comfort.  But suddenly Blake has pushed off the bed and is on their feet, blankets shed, and is pacing around the floor in front of him.  Dressed in only a loose t - shirt and a pair of boxers, he can see the bandages and the bruises that cover their body from the fight at the auction, though those concern him less than the laugh fleeing the smile they’ve stuck to their face, screaming in sharp contrast to the pain in their eyes.

“I was stupid,” they answer without hesitation, hands carding through their tangled hair as they pace faster, turning from him.  “I could tell — he’s been in love with me since the beginning, right?  It’s obvious.  And I’ve felt the same about him, and he’s so fucking dumb and repressed but we’re both good so I — I just assumed that — that if I — If I just waited it out, kept up the flirting and ——”

Mason does’t move, not sure if he’s frozen by the surprising depth of their pain or by the anger in their too-fast voice, their hunched posture, the hands tugging hard through their long hair.  He can’t tell if they’re angry at Adam or themself.

“I thought I — I was so stupid, and I — I shouldn’t even be m - mad at him, ‘cause he showed me exactly who he fucking is and I was fucking dumb enough to think I could help him, and I —”

“Hey, hey,” the vampire finds his voice, starting to rise, “It’s not your —”

"No, no, it’s my fault, it’s my ——”  They spin and their smile is horrible, tight, mocking, and their voice goes too loud, too hurt “— it’s my fault for thinking I’d ever be enough for him!”

Mason freezes, eyes huge, and Blake’s smile doesn’t fall, even when they inhale, ragged, and start to cry.

He isn’t a gentle man — he doesn’t show care this way, and love is so rare to earn from him that he’s rarely showed it at all, but it only takes a beat of looking at that miserable, heartbreaking expression before his body moves and he pulls the Detective into an unpracticed, awkward hug.

They stiffen, seeming as shocked as he is, but relax into the hug after only a few beats of their unsteady heart, hands wrapping desperately around his back and twisting tight into his shirt.  They bawl into his chest, and he can’t make himself relax or hold them right, but he hopes it’s enough.  He hopes they don’t think they have to keep smiling.

“I th-thought,” they whimper, so quiet he doesn’t think he’d catch it without his hypersenses, “that — h-he’s in love with me, and I’m i-in love with him, so we’d — and I just — I thought I’d b-be enough for him to — I thought I’d be wuh-worth letting the walls down.”  They hiccup, voice going smaller.  “I really — th-thought I’d be worth it to him.”

Mason loves all his family.  And he loves Adam, his stupidity and all, and he’s more loyal to that man than he is to the Agency or much else.  But he regrets, for a moment, not slugging the bastard when he’d had the chance in the hallways, days ago, when Adam had stupidly broken their fearless Detective’s heart.

“But I wasn’t,” Blake whispers.  “I — w-wasn’t worth it.  I wasn’t good enough for him.”

They’re more stubborn than anyone he’s ever known, himself included, and more full of love, too — and while Blake has taken guilt for those they’ve harmed or failed, or who’ve been harmed or failed by them, he truly never thought they’d ever hear the Detective doubt whether they were worth enough for another person.  Mason hates it, and he grasps their biceps to pull them away from his chest.  He’s relieved to see they’re not still smiling.

“Don’t talk like that,” Mason bites out, his hands tightening on their arms.  “You are good enough for Adam.  Hell, you’re too good for Adam.  That’s the whole problem.”

Blake sniffles out a joyless laugh, not smiling, head shaking.

Mason almost growls, “He’s the one who’s too much of a coward to deal with his feelings, not you.  He’s the one who’s acting like an ass, not you.”  They laugh again, still weak.  “You’re stronger than he is, and that’s the issue, not whether you’re worth it.  You didn’t do shit wrong.  Don’t let him make you think otherwise.”

Blake inhales, hard.  The tears don’t stop, but the sobbing’s faded to hiccuping whimpers, which Mason will have to take as an improvement.  “— He said the s-same thing.  That I’m stronger than him.”

“Then that’s about the only thing that he got right about this whole thing.”  Mason squeezes their biceps and hopes it’s encouraging.  One of Blake’s hands rises, still shaking, to wipe at their eyes.  “I’m not good at this shit, Blake.  But I know that Adam’s shit isn’t your fault.  And you shouldn’t feel like you’re less than anybody, especially not a guy who can’t even be honest with himself, let alone the person he loves.”

They steady in his arms at the words, nodding to themself after a long beat.  It hurts, but — the words help.  Mason’s belief in them, a belief they’d shared until so recently, helps.

“I think —” They have to pause, to inhale shakily, to get their voice back.  “I think you’re better at ‘this shit’ than you think you are.”

“Don’t you turn this around into comforting me or some shit.  I can only handle so much mushiness in one sitting.”

And they laugh — a real one this time, for however choked and soft it may be.  “I’m not.  I just — thanks.  I — hah.  I’m still fucking miserable but I — I feel better.  I feel — I feel better.”  They inhale, a little steadier this time.  “You’re a good friend.  I love you.”

He’s glad the light’s still off so the Detective can’t see the flush on his face.  This fucking human...  “I just said I can’t handle more of this mushy shit.”

And they laugh again.  “Okay, okay.  I’m — I’m gonna take a sh-shower and then show my face for the first time in days.  I’ll inflict any more mushiness on Felix.  Sound fair?”

Mason lets his hands drop from their arms.  “Sounds fair.”  His smile is crooked but sincere when he adds, “I’ll still be there, just pretending not to hear it.”

“That sounds perfect.”  Blake reaches forward and takes his hand, squeezing it once.  Mason groans — just to get another chuckle out of them — but returns the gesture.

[jensthwa]

show & tell pt. 2 (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

After the… masterclass you gave Mingi the night before, you’re left anxious on what the future holds for you both. But there’s a pool party you promised you would attend and there’s not really time for you to figure your feelings out before your best friend shows up at your door to drive you to it. So maybe today is not the day to figure your feelings out, right? It’s just a pool party anyways, so nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen… right?

PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: childhood best friends (idiots) to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 11k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) anxiety attack, attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit part two ft jongho, a new oc being the voice of reason, reader is clueless and in denial i fear, jealousy, miscommunication, fighting so this part is just a tiny bit angsty :(, confessions, teasing, face sitting, hand job, car sex (don't do it in public people, it can get you arrested), pet names (love and baby), a plot line at the end none of you guys are going to get until my new wip drops but it's worth the wait!

NOTES: hey everyone! thank you so much for patiently waiting for this second and last part to drop. i think that, after this one, if you guys want to request any drabbles or if i come up with some scenarios for this couple i will post them but for now nothing is on the works. what is on the works is a wip that's part of the same universe as this one, so pay attention to the new characters i mention if you want any clues! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: july 28th 2024.

TAGLIST (sorry if i forgot anyone, pls let me know!): @vannerriin / @mingtinysworld / @purple-bell / @bakepotatoman / @nxy3h / @taehyungmami / @nxcxllxsevens / @breadpuddingboys / @hotteokkay

masterlist.

When you wake the next morning, the consequences of restless sleep show up in your face as a reminder of what happened the night before. 

It's not that you regret it, it's more the fact that you feel so unapologetic about messing with the perfect dynamic you have with Mingi that caused you to toss and turn so much. 

Last night, after putting your duvet back on and then crashing into the mattress feeling all tingly and giddy, you asked yourself a thousand questions. 

The main one being: What the fuck did you do? 

The words kept repeating over and over in your head, your voice of reason (or your anxiety) screaming at you to get your phone and make it right before everything becomes a complicated, unresolvable mess. 

You had a brief moment of panic and heavy breathing, your chest tight with unspoken emotion and your eyes filled with tears. 

It was too much, so you forced yourself up and paced around for what felt like hours trying to get your feet back on the ground. Nothing was working, so you sat down at your desk and rested your forehead against it. 

When you didn't feel the usual coolness of the wood, a comfort sensation for when your studies got the best out of you for the day, and instead felt a pen almost stab you in the eye, you -very confused- leaned back. 

Mingi’s notebook and the pen he didn't put back on the pencil case seemed to stare back at you lovingly instead of mocking you for losing control over your own emotions. 

A sense of peace washed over you when you flipped the pages and landed on the instructions he wrote down. Memories of the amazing years you have had by his side started crossing your mind, like recomforting flashes that allowed your heartbeat to go back to normal: 

The first day you saw Mingi, chasing behind a worned out soccer ball and then kicking it so hard it landed on your lawn. 

The first time you two hugged, when your dad scolded you for having bad grades until you cried in front of him. 

The way he held your hand before heading inside to take the college admission exam, last year of highschool. 

His kind eyes. His reassuring smile. The way he made you feel just a few hours back. 

There's no getting rid of me either, love.

We'll figure it out. 

Letting a few contained tears run down your cheeks, you nodded to yourself as if he was there in the room with you. 

Yeah, you'll figure it out.  

And then proceeded to, very much, not figure shit out for the rest of the night. You could still feel his hands everywhere and hear his voice against your ear whispering how much he knows you and pays attention to you. 

You are fucked. 

It's all you can think about when you get ready for the day. It's all you can think about when you help your dad with lunch and when you let your parents know at the table that you are going out that same afternoon. 

“Mingi is driving you, right?” 

“Yeah…” you whisper in response, eyes focused on one specific spot at the table and mind a million years away from the conversation. 

“Good. He's such a good kid, Y/N, I'm glad he knows how to take care of you.” 

Choking on air when your brain finally catches up to her words, you look back up at your mother in shock “W-what?” 

“Yeah honey, what? Y/N can take care of herself,” your father chips in, unaware of your red cheeks or the honest expression of panic you're giving both of them “She's a big girl that carries around that, uh… What was it?— Ah, that pepper spray I gave her, right?” 

“R-right.” 

He lets out a satisfied see? at your answer, gives you a tiny smile and gets up from the table to take his finished plate over to the sink. 

Your mom stays behind, giving you a look you can't quite read before her usual calm expression washes it away. Only then, you can take a proper, very needed, calming breath. 

“I need to get ready. Thank you for the food.” 

“You made it, dear.” 

“I mean! For taking care of the, uh, plates,” you clumsily correct yourself right away, getting up from the table as well “Love you. Bye!” 

You don't miss the confused giggle on your way to your room and when you're behind closed doors, you finally take into consideration that you might be, in fact, overreacting.

Not much, you think, but just enough to give your feelings away. And it's truly a shame, because you were planning on concealing and bottle everything up until it, inevitably, blows up in your face. 

Maybe not the smartest option. 

If you bang your head against the wall with enough force maybe, just maybe it’ll help—

Someone's texting you. 

> gi: heeeeey > gi: just woke up lol > gi: had the best sleep ever tho > gi: how are you, love? 

Okay. So normal texting it is. Maybe your initial plan of just pretending nothing happened is, coincidentally, Mingi’s plan as well. 

So you type in it's literally almost one, ya lazy and let your thumb hover over the send button, eyebrows creased at a sudden realization. 

The casual texting annoys you. 

Sure, Mingi is used to keeping everything casual between him and the people he sleeps with, but you're not just anyone! You didn't sleep together, either! 

Oh, maybe that's why. 

But it ticks you off either way. 

Is he not feeling the same way you do? Did it mean something different for him than it did to you? What did it even mean to you in the first place?

Why, after all the panic you felt the night before, did you have any sort of expectation for today? 

It doesn't make any sense. 

You hit send. 

> gi: aaaaand?  > gi: god forbid a man gets a good night's rest after being thrown off a bed. 

Scoffing, your eyes roll before you can even control it and, to your demise, the giddiness returns. You respond with did you get hurt? awww and raise a hand to your blushed cheek before sending the message.

> gi: yeah wtf  > gi: my butt is all bruised.  > gi: kiss it better? 

Oh. 

Not casual texting. At. All. 

Or maybe it is? 

Ugh.

Blanking on everything Mingi has ever texted you before, you decide it's best to entertain yourself by getting all pretty to sit around the house party tonight and do nothing else instead of torturing your confused brain any longer. 

Using the help of an emoji to flip him off and, hopefully, gather yourself together enough to get ready, you shoot him another text rushing him to do the same because you don't want to be late. 

And he usually takes forever to get ready anyways.

Showering with very cold water, taking a good thirty minutes to decide whether to wear something comfy and fitting or sexy and fitting for the party do the job when it comes to taking your mind off him for, at least, the time being. 

Yunho was insistent the day before in that you didn't need to bring a bathing suit if you didn't want to, but you pack one anyways because you can sense Wooyoung's and Jongho’s intentions even if the youngest couldn't make it to your impromptu gathering yesterday. 

They know you hate when they get away with annoying you and throwing you into the nearest body of water -in this case, Yunho’s pool- in front of many people you don't know (therefore, you are not going to able to go insane mode on them) seems like the perfect opportunity to get away with it.

The last time they did it you weren't really able to scold them properly either, so they laughed and pointed at you until you threatened to kick their asses in a very dishonest but playful way. 

Mingi, of course, did nothing but laugh along with everyone else and then kiss your forehead as an apology later that day. 

That was last summer and since then both perpetrators have treated you to meals and buttered you up enough for you to forgive (as if you didn't do that the morning that followed the incident) but you never forget. 

Maybe you should. It would make the sight of Mingi parking outside your house easier, you think.

You're sure he's parking outside just to give your dad, who comes out to greet him with a hug, some peace of mind. He's very protective of you and he trusts Mingi even if he gives him a hard time everytime he sleeps over or takes you somewhere.  

Like now, you have a very clear view through your window of the sermon he's giving your best friend. You don't hear it but he's moving his hands in the air way too much for it not to be a clear step by step on what to do if you run into any trouble on the way to Yunho's. 

Mingi likes step by step and he's good at following instructions, so you don't think it's going to be an issue. 

God damnit, Y/N, get it together. 

Sighing, you pick up your bag, check your outfit once in front of the mirror, and rush downstairs and out of the door. 

“You do know how to change a tire, son?” 

Mingi is standing in front of your dad with his hands behind his back and a tight smile. 

“Yes sir, my dad taught me and then at the school they made sure I didn't forget about it.” 

“And make sure to—” 

“Could you let the guy breathe, dad?” 

They both turn to, your dad wears a mocking smile and you see Mingi’s tight one breaks into a genuine one a second later. A grateful one, even. 

He looks really good. Which is insane, considering that to you he looked like Chewbacca just yesterday morning. 

Crazy what a good orgasm can do to a person. Or maybe it's the first time you ever let yourself see him in this light. Either way, he's wearing light wash jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clings to him just right and it's going to drive you insane, you can just feel it. 

“I was just making sure that he—” 

“Knows what to do,” you nod “He knows what he's doing, dad. Stop giving him a hard time,” you give your dad a quick kiss on the cheek and then rush to the passenger seat, giving Mingi a glance so he can get in the car as well. 

“Alright. Love you, take care!” 

“Love you too, Mr. L/N!” Mingi says, getting into his seat and giving your dad the opportunity to see when he fastens his seatbelt. He doesn't say anything else, even though he didn't tell Mingi specifically that he loved him and instead gives you both a nod of approval. 

When Mingi finally drives off your street and into the main one, you sigh in relief. 

“He's neeever going to trust me, huh?” 

“He trusts you,” you say right away, cheek resting against the seat so you can take a proper look at him “I'm his only daughter and you're a man after all. Cut him some slack.” 

“He never cuts me some slack!” he fights back but you just laugh and he can't help but join you “You look really good, by the way. A dress? Are you trying to impress someone?” The tone he uses sparks the remaining tension from the night before, like zero time has passed since he kissed you goodnight by your front door. 

When you got into the car with Mingi, you didn't consider that you two would be alone for, at least, forty minutes before getting to your destination. Your mind skipped the fact that he has this new ability to fluster you by just existing near you and you curse it for not letting you prepare well enough for the way he's looking at you right now. 

“Obviously,” you answer in a whisper, clearing your throat a second later “Wooyoung needs to be distracted so he doesn't tackle me into the pool the second we get there. Don't know if it's gonna work on Jongho, though.” 

Mingi clicks his tongue, baring his teeth and pretending to really think about it “I don't think so, love. You'll have to bribe him into considering dropping their whole summer schtick for you.” 

“You can help me with that.” 

“Can I now?” 

“Yeah. You can just… lock him up in a room and my dress can do the rest of the work.” 

Your best friend laughs and then takes a hand off the steering wheel to roll the hem of your dress in between his thumb and index. His knuckles brush against your thigh and you almost -almost- make a noise at the sensation. 

“It's not the dress, love… It's who's wearing it.” 

A bit of silence passes within the both of you. 

“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

Laughter fills the car and drowns out the honking on the other side of the street and you wonder why you were worried in the first place. 

Nothing has changed. 

Aside from the intention laced with the flirting, it feels the same way it ever did and you couldn't be more glad because now that you know Mingi doesn't hate you (like you thought for a brief moment last night) or wants to hard launch a relationship that doesn't exist to your friends the second he gets them all together in the same room, you can enjoy the car ride and the evening that's about to follow it.

So you flirt with him freely, listen and sing along to songs that just feel like summer summarized in three minutes of exquisite writing and roll your window down once Mingi takes a turn into an hill, trees replacing the buildings you're so used to seeing. 

Your friend is rich rich. His family makes good money and his parents go on lots of business trips. That being said, it's the first time you actually attend one of his parties, and so when you get to Yunho’s house and ring the doorbell, you’re caught by surprise because you can already hear the loud music playing in the backyard and the blend of new and familiar voices through the thick door. 

You expect him to open the door for you but Seonghwa’s smile is the first thing you see before you and Mingi both have the opportunity to step in. 

“You made it!” 

“It's pretty hard to miss this house, Hwa.” 

Your older friend side-hugs you and stays by your side while Mingi takes it upon himself to put your bags for the day in the pile of other bags next to the door “How are you doing today?” 

You're about to answer but when you look at him, you see him staring at Mingi, so you do too. He's staring at Hwa with a little smile “I'm doing good. I blocked her and everything and I can confidently say that…” he turns to you “My ego’s not bruised anymore.” 

If Seonghwa caughts the spark between you and you best friend, he decides to ignore it “That's goo—” 

“Mingi!” 

What the hell is she doing here? 

Not, not that bitch from yesterday but this girl who Mingi meets with sometimes. You don't really know her, you just know she's gorgeous and that her name starts with an h, maybe? 

She's a fashion major and it shows in the way she's dressed up today. Truly, an enjoyable company whenever she's around at frat parties, a saving grace when you're tired of surrounding yourself with only men. 

Right now? She's your worst nightmare. 

Wrapping her arms around Mingi’s neck and getting on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek, she smiles like she knows she's getting laid tonight and your best friend does nothing to pull her away. 

She doesn't even say hi to you before dragging him to the backyard! You and Seonghwa follow them and when she takes Mingi’s arm and pulls him over to -you assume- introduce him to her friends, you almost stomp your feet like a little kid. 

Trying to get rid of the annoyed frown on your face, you turn to Hwa with a teasing smile and your eyebrows raised. 

“Well fuck me, am I right?” 

“I might!” Arms wrap around your waist and you feel Woo’s chin resting on you shoulder immediately after “That's a very nice dress, Y/N.” 

If Mingi was next to you, like you want him to be, you would give him a I told you so glance. Instead, you just look at Seonghwa with absolute horror before he snickers and goes away. 

“Right? And it looks horrible when it's drenched in nasty chlorine water.” 

“You can't possibly know that.” 

“I know a lot of things and— No! Woo, please don't,” you beg when he lifts you off the ground for a second. Behind you, you hear laughs and, even though you can't see them, you know it's San and Jongho “I just got here and I haven't even changed yet, please.” 

He turns you around and hugs you properly this time before letting you go. You take the opportunity to punch him in the arm and then go over to San and Jongho to do the same. 

��We'll let you get your swimsuit on this time.” 

“You're so considerate, Jong. Seriously, they're going to give you the Nobel prize if you don't stop.” He mocks you, repeating what you just said in a higher pitched voice and you laugh as you sit next to Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend, Gyuri. 

San also has a girl sitting beside him with his arm around her, but you don't really know her so you just wave at her. They're all in their bathing suits already “See how he tried to flirt with me to try to get me with my guard down? He's a monster.” 

“And in front of me, too? The nerve on this guy.” Gyuri, of course, backs you up immediately and you want to return her smile, but you can see Mingi from the corner of your eye and it's distracting. 

“Oh, they're ganging up on me already,” Wooyoung whines, sitting down in front of you both and handing you a drink “It's like my worst nightmare.” 

“He's enjoying it, don't let him convince you otherwise,” San says, getting up from his seat and taking his girl with him “Especially coming from you.” He points at Gyuri and you laugh. 

“We're just friends now!” 

“That's what you told me like three years ago before—” 

Wooyoung gets up to chase after him and San lets go of the girl's hand to try to get away from him. 

Turns out, you're not the one Woo tackles into the pool. This time, him and San crash down on the water hard and a few droplets of water wet your feet. Gyuri laughs and everyone else does too when they realize what's happening. 

Jongho gets up and joins them in the water soon after to try and help (kinda, not really) San escape the wrath of his best friend. 

You almost miss it, because you take the opportunity to look at your best friend and, when you do, he's already looking at you. 

Breath catches on your throat and the lump that forms afterwards has a name and a reason: Mingi is looking at you with so much longing it physically hurts. 

He looks like wants to drop everything and come and confuse your fragile mind even more, just like he did the night before. 

Then why the fuck is he there with whatever her name is and her friends and not sitting right next to you? 

You look away, grasping your drink for emotional support and convincing yourself you're starting to see things that are not actually there. 

“Why the fuck are y'all fighting this time?!” Yunho comes from inside the house and it's the first time you see him today “No choking! No running! It's literally in the rules!” 

“Wooyoung please let go of my boyfriend!” 

Ah. So she is San’s girlfriend. Still, you turn to Gyuri to ask. 

“Who is sh—” 

“San’s new girlfriend, Kyungmi. We don't give a fuck about her or San right now, we're mad at them,” you want to ask who we is, because Wooyoung seems like he's just playing, but she interrupts you again “What the fuck is going on with you and Mingi?” 

Huh?! 

You make a quick mental review of your plan. Conceal? Clearly it didn't work. Bury your emotions deep so no one notices? You probably can't recover from the way you smile just dropped. 

The only thing left on the list is pretend that you're insane, but you're not sure it'll work either. So you turn it on her: “Nothing much. He played Espresso like three times on a row on the way here and I almost kill him, but—” 

“You can't bullshit me, Y/N.” 

Great, that didn't work either. 

“I saw that. Seonghwa did too but he got up before I could convince him to ambush you,” she dramatically sighs, chugging the rest of her drink down “So, what is going on?” 

“Nothing,” that much is true “he's literally with a girl right now.” 

“And she will never mean as much to him as you do. Next.” 

“Gyuri… I really don't know what you want me to say.” 

Squinting her eyes at you suspiciously, Gyuri takes her time before answering and you fidget in your seat a little. Wooyoung liked her for a reason, she's feisty and goes straight to the point and it's something you usually admire but right now it's not the time for her to do this. 

“I just thought maybe it finally happened…” She whispers and shrugs the entire conversation off before getting up “Let's head inside. They're going to start grilling meat at any second and I also don't want to be near Wooyoung when he gets out of there.” She points at him and you laugh. 

Jongho has him in a chokehold and Yunho is trying to separate them while San desperately swims towards his girl that's still waiting for him near the edge of the pool. 

“Sure thing.” 

You pretend you don't feel Mingi's eyes on you as you move. 

This is not unusual. Whenever you all go to parties, hosted by someone inside of the friend group or not, you end up separating from Mingi. 

He does his thing. He's outgoing and he likes dancing while you enjoy conversation and drinking away at the rest of the party, occasionally making out with someone and calling it a night when your social battery runs out. 

So you hang out with Gyuri in the kitchen until the sun starts going down and when the last ray of it disappears you decide it's time to swim a bit before you're too tipsy for it to be safe. 

Grabbing your bag and greeting some new people you don't know at the door, you head up to the bathroom you are told by the host himself it's upstairs. 

When your tying up the strands of your swimsuit, the door slams open and you jump and cover yourself up with your hands because you're not able to finish the job, so the strands fall down and the only thing holding the top part of the fabric it's you. 

“What the fuck, Mingi?” 

Turning around, you're only able to look at him through the mirror. 

“Lock the door next time! What if it was somebody else?” 

“People usually knock!” 

“I didn't mean to scare you, it's the door’s fault,” he makes a fool of himself trying to prove it “See? I— let me help you with that,” he closes the door again and, this time, he locks it before taking a short step and grabbing the strands of your top “It's the second time this week I scare you like that, huh? I’m sorry, love.” He ties the strands together with a secure knot and his apology finally allows your tense muscles to relax. 

You remind yourself that there's no valid reason for you to be mad at him. You'll figure it out, he said it himself, and maybe today is not the day to do so. 

But he's not stepping away once he's finished, he's not even saying anything else before his hands grab your waist and his chest collides to your back. 

Looking at him through the mirror again, you silently ask him with your eyes what he thinks he's doing. He ignores you, bending down so the tip of his nose can trace the skin on the side of your neck. 

“I missed you,” his voice sounds like honey when he says it and you, once again, curse the ability he has to make you crumble “and you disappeared like an hour ago.” 

You let out a sigh. 

“I was in the kitchen, Mingi, not missing and we were in the same space for at least twenty minutes before that and like… forty minutes in a car, together.” You remind him and he frowns “Besides, you were with Ha… Haneul?” 

“Hanni,” he corrects and you huff out a whatever “and she was introducing me to some of her friends that are in the same major as me, just a year over.” 

“Cool.” 

He pecks your shoulder. You do your best to not melt completely into him and fix your hair in the mirror. 

“Y/N…” he starts and you hum in acknowledgement “I missed you.” 

It pisses you off for some reason. The mature thing to do is to let him know but the words that leave you are petty and laced with annoyance. 

“I’m sure you did, buddy.” 

He grins against your skin and you turn around to face him, eyebrow raising. 

“What's so amusing?” 

At your tone, he seems taken aback but his smile stays curving his lips upwards.

“I'm just really happy to have this moment with you,” he says, matter of factly, and you press your hands against his chest to regain some personal space. He doesn't budge an inch “What's going on?” 

He's such a guy sometimes. 

“You're here, kissing my neck, while a gorgeous girl who I'm sure is waiting for you downstairs is probably bragging to her friends about how she's going home with you tonight and—” 

“Y/N, I'm literally taking you home.” 

“I can easily take a car back— Mingi, seriously,” taking a deep breath, you stare at him with all the honesty you can gather “I don't want to do whatever this is if afterwards you're going downstairs to dance and flirt with Haneul or whatever her name is.” 

He looks like he wants to correct you on it again, so you level him with a daring glance. 

He keeps his mouth shut. 

“And I also don't want you to hurt her feelings if you tell her you can't leave with her tonight, so—” 

“I don't give a shit about her feelings, love.” 

“Mingi, don't say that!” 

“I don't! I wasn't flirting with her at all, either! Listen, it's…” he stops to chuckle for a few seconds “I mean, it's adorable that you're jealous but there's no reason for you to—” 

“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

It's the second time today you have said those exact words to him. The first time, you also felt your heart bang with such force against your rib cage but for a completely different reason. 

“I'm not one of the girls you fuck on the side when you're horny or bored out of your mind. Don't fucking treat me like one.” You warn and suddenly the image of you telling him that teaching him yesterday could mess you both up crosses your mind.  

“I'm not, Y/N! I'm just saying that you look adorable when you're—” 

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when we are not together, Mingi? I'm literally looking out for the girl!” 

“You don't even know her name, love.” 

“That's not the fucking point!” 

He finally takes a step away from you, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath, surely.

Now you're pissed off because he saw right through you and your words. 

That disgusting weight on your chest you felt back by the pool while you kept staring at him from the corner of your eye? Jealousy. 

Now that he brought it up, it makes sense. 

You hate it. 

You always hated being put in a position where you felt the need to compare yourself to others. Always hated how easy it is for anger to run through your blood and infiltrate every waking thought until it clouds your judgment. 

Because you shouldn't be angry. He just said he didn't care about her feelings. 

And yet, all you can think about is that he spent an hour with her instead of you. 

When he turns to you, there's a storm in his eyes and you just don't want to hear it tonight. 

“Save it, keep it, sleep on it and we'll talk tomorrow,” picking your dress from the spot on the floor it's been sitting all this time, you put the fabric on, take your bag and then unlock the door “I’m going home.” 

You don't give him the opportunity to say anything else before getting out of the bathroom but you do hear a groan when you're rushing downstairs. 

Yeosang and Yunho are just leaving the kitchen when you trip on the last step and the host jogs the few steps to you after laughing. 

“There you are, Y/N. Listen, there's some meat already grilled back there but we're—” 

“I'm actually going home, Yun,” you cut him short “I'm not feeling that well. My plan was to swim a little before leaving but I don't think I can do it.” 

“Did something happen or…?” 

What happened is coming downstairs as he asks. 

“Nope. Nothing, I just think I'm catching a cold or something. Thank you so much for inviting me though!” You hug your friend quickly, kissing his cheek before pulling away. 

“Always…” Yunho is very observant but, as you always do, he doesn't press you with questions about what's going on “He's taking you home?” Pointing behind you, you don't have to turn around to get what he means. 

“Ye—” 

“No. He's having a great time here, I don't want to get in the way,” you shrug “I'll just get an uber or something. Don't worry.” 

Yunho frowns slightly, eyes moving from your face to over your shoulder. 

Immature. Petty. Rude. 

You're sure that's the way you’re coming off right now. But feeling anger bubbling behind the smile you give Yunho, you think it's better they make their assumptions instead of actually seeing you upset. 

You move to hug Yeosang as well and he murmurs his farewell. When you turn around, Mingi is no longer there and you don’t spare a look towards the floor to ceiling glass windows that separate the living area from the backyard because you're sure he's sitting right beside that girl again. 

As he should be. 

You bolt for the door, giving your friends a tiny smile before going down the few steps and into the hill. It's already dark and you're sure no uber driver it's going up this hill for the tip you're able to offer them, so you figure your best shot is to go down and try to find a cab on the main street. 

The light from your phone illuminates your scowl as you walk. Past the bushes and the trees and the lines of parallel parked cars where Mingi’s Lexus is. 

You don't notice him there until he opens the backdoor to block your step. 

“Get in the car, I'm taking you home.” 

Closing the door he just opened to stop you, you shake your head. 

“I told you I'm getting a ride and—”

“I don't give a fuck. Get in the car.” And then he's opening his door and closing it so fast it gives you no room for debating. 

He's angry. Shit. 

You can't even see him through the tinted window to assess how much damage you have done, so you look down the hill one more time and wonder if making the run for it is worth it. 

When your phone lights up with a notification from Gyuri asking you if everything's okay and to make it home safe, you take it as a sign to round the car and get into the passenger side with an annoyed huff. 

The engine comes to life. You're not looking at him but at the trees until the leaves start showing the building lights in-between them and soon you're on the main road. 

You can't even ask him to turn the radio on. Stubborn, you refuse to let the anger inside of you dissipate in fear of shame taking over. It's better being angry than being ashamed, at least in this exact moment because you can practically feel Mingi's anger through the silent treatment. 

But you need to say something. The silence is suffocating and the street is surprisingly empty so you can't distract yourself with anything. 

“You shouldn't have bothered.” 

“I am bothered. You bothered me.” 

Clenching your jaw, you turn to him in disbelief “I told you to stay at the goddamn party so we can fix this tomorrow but I bothered you?”

“Did I stutter or something?” 

“No, you're just not making any fucking sense!” 

“Yeah, fuck this,” you see him look around, biting the inside of his cheek like he's holding his words in “We're fixing this right now.” 

The car makes a harsh turn and you have to grab the door for support. 

“Mingi!” He's not listening to you anymore. His hard gaze stays on the road, it feels like forever before he pulls into a somewhat empty parking lot and when the vehicle stops you go to open the door and get the fuck away from him before you two kill eachother inside this car. 

That's an exaggeration but with the way he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, you know your pride doesn't stand a chance. 

The summer breeze briefly hits your face before his hand is on yours, closing the door and preventing you from, once again, escaping the situation. 

Frustrated, you let out a loud groan “What the fuck is your problem?!” 

“I don't know, Y/N! But I'll tell you what your problem is, alright?” he chuckles. It's a humorless sound, his face painted in something you've never seen before “Your problem is that you assume you know what everyone else is feeling and you assume you're right. But intuition can only get you so far, love, so I need you to take your head out of your ass and think logically for a second.” 

Flabbergasted, you think you murmur something in your defense but he cuts you short. 

“No! You didn't let me get a word out back there so now you're going to shut up and listen,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes “You assume you're smarter than everyone else but you're actually so dumb. Dumb, you're acting very dumb and reckless, Y/N! That back there?” he points out of the window to nothing but you know what he means “Leaving— Scratch that. Leaving me and not giving me a chance to say anything back? Trying to go down that hill alone and in the dark? Stupid.” 

Staring back at him with watery eyes, you don't even know what to say back except a whispered excuse me?

“And usually I would beat up anyone who even dares to call you that but I guess all these years I've been wrong about you. Because if you were smart, you would've realized that Hanni means nothing to me and I mean nothing to her. There's nothing, she loves appearances and that's it.” 

You knew that already, but you're not giving your stance up. 

What even is your stance? Ah, right, he treated you like an envious no one back there and not like his best friend.  

“Yeah, I can tell you mean nothing to her from the whiny tone and the hug and the dragging you to meet her friends, Mingi.” Scoffing at the memory, your lips press into a thin line. 

“Well, she's a friendly girl!” 

“She didn't even say hi to me!” 

“So she doesn't like you, Y/N! Who cares!” you sure don't but, again, you just stare at him in disbelief and his open arms, palms to the sky “Do you care? Because I don't! And guess what? I doesn't fucking matter if she likes you or not or if she wants me or not because I like you!” 

What? 

“W-what?” 

“I like you! And I'll choose you over her and everyone else again and again and again until you notice but fuck it's so tiring. You're so fixated on why I let her drag me to her friends that you completely ignored me the rest of the time we were there and maybe if you looked at me more than once you would've realized that I was staring back at you the whole afternoon!” 

You let out an annoyed chuckle “So you were, Mingi.” 

“I was! I was trying to get you to look at me and notice how bad I wanted you to come over, rescue me from that boring ass conversation, grab my hand and claim your place right beside me because—” he pauses, resting a hand on the steering wheel and looking at you like he can't believe he has to spell this out for you “Because I want nothing more than for her and everyone to know I’m yours! I'm sure everyone already fucking knows too, except you. So yeah, sometimes, you're pretty fucking dumb for such a smart woman, Y/N.” 

Words escape you. They escape your mind, your reason and your pride shrinks until it disappears behind all the love you feel for Mingi. 

So that's what you are feeling. That's what you felt yesterday night when the tiredness couldn't drown out your thoughts of him and all he meant to you. 

Love, love, love. In all its forms, in all its possible scenarios. Your heart burns for it and you used to think that your hopeless romantic desires began and died with the movies you tend to see and the books you tend to read, that it was impossible to feel this way for anyone but there he is, chest heaving in the yellow interior light, waiting for you to say something back. 

“And I realize that before yesterday I showed no interest in you but believe me when I say that I—” 

Shakily, you interrupt him with whispered words, heart soaring and hands reaching out to cup his beautiful face “Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

When you kiss him, you make sure to pour out everything you couldn't say a minute ago into it. 

When he kisses you back with the same feeling, it crosses your mind that he already forgave you. 

And when he grabs your waist and drags you over the break handle and the transmission to collide his chest against yours and drag his tongue along the seam of your bottom lip, you think that, for the first time ever, you have to tell him he's right. 

You are stupid. Stupid for not realizing it sooner, stupid for confusing his longing stares for something platonic, stupid for thinking you could wait until tomorrow to tell him he has the right to see and be with anyone he wants to because this is it. 

This. The way your entire body comes alive when he sighs into your mouth and groans at the way your knee opens up his legs to make room for you on his side of the car and partially on his lap. The way his thumbs run through your cheeks and dry the tears you didn't even feel falling down. The way your heart jumps frantically and the way its beats could get confused by his because you're so close. 

Suddenly and unexpectedly, you can't recall a time Mingi didn't make you feel this exact same way. It's overwhelming, it expands through you like a fire and it knocks the remaining air out of your lungs enough for you to pull away and rest your forehead against his, shaky breaths tangling together and fingers grasping the neck of his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 

You sniffle, incapable of not feeling emotional over his confession and your realization “I'm sorry, Mingi. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for treating you that way I was… I behaved like…” 

“An ass.” He nods and you look at him with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. 

“Yeah,” you nod as well “I was an ass. A jealous ass.” 

“I know, love.” He whispers, eyes moving on your face before his lips are on yours again, briefly, sweetly, even if you don't feel like you deserve it “You tend to forget that I know you, hm? That I've seen you jealous before? You were an ass back then, too.” 

“Okay! Okay, stop calling me an ass, I get it.” 

“I'm sorry for waiting for you to do something when you didn't even… I guess you didn't know, right? The way I feel about you?” 

“I know now,” you whisper back, nudging your nose against his and then putting some distance so you can see him better “I feel the same way, by the way. We're shit at communicating, apparently, so I'll just tell you now that—” 

His lips are on yours again and he's giggling against them and shaking his head when he pulls away. Brown eyes search for yours and you're not sure what he's looking in them but he seems to find it, his muscles relaxing against the leather of his seat seconds later. 

So you kiss him again. And again and again until your back starts hurting and the steering wheel is pressed uncomfortably against it, forcing you to shift on his hold. 

“Let me… Wait.” He lets you go to pull his seat back and then closes his legs, forcing your knee to fall on his other side so you can fully straddle his lap “That's better. Now come here.” And then he’s grabbing the back of your neck and stealing your breath away again with another kiss.

The tension shifts right then. When he can fully feel you pressing up against him and when a noise escapes you once his hands drop and give your bare legs the attention you didn't even know you were craving. 

You thought a second ago that the sweet kisses would stop once you were both sated with the sweet aftermath of all the yelling and confessing but now you don't want it to stop. 

There's a lot to catch up on, a lot of missed time you need to make up for. 

You still want to make him feel good. The sparks from yesterday come alive again and soon you're yanking the strands of dark hair with your fingers and letting your mouth explore the skin of his neck. When you sink your teeth into his skin, he lets out the same noise he did the night before and you smile against the mark you just made. 

His lips find your shoulder and he breathes hard into it once your hips start moving at their own accord, slowly yet firmly, the pad of his fingers digging hard on your thighs until you break away from his neck to focus on his face again. 

“This goddamn dress, love.” 

Humming, you caress his red cheek with your lips “What about it?” 

“Been thinking about it all day…” 

“It worked, by the way.” 

“Woo?” 

“Mhm. Distracted him so he didn't throw me in the pool right away.” 

“And Jongho?” 

“Probably plotting against me right now.” 

He laughs softly into your skin ��Probably.” 

Chuckling as well, you stop your movements and take in how he looks. Gone, a little too fucked up from just making out, lips swollen and eyes clouded with something you're getting too familiar with, too quick. 

“Worked on you, too.” 

He smiles and shrugs, letting his head drop into the headrest “You look good in everything, love. It doesn't really matter what you wear.” 

“Oh?” 

A firm hand trails up your body, slowly, from you leg to your hip, your waist to the side of your breasts and your until it cops your face with affection you never imagined you would experience. 

“I have always thought you are the most beautiful girl to ever exist.” 

This is it. 

Leaning into his touch, your lips connect to the palm of the hand holding you before you lean forward again. 

“I love you, Mingi.” 

He doesn't seem surprised by your confession and you're glad he knows. It doesn't really matter if its too soon, if you even mean it in a romantic way or not, the love you have for him transcends all labels. 

“I love you too, Y/N.”

And his does too. 

You kiss him until it hurts. 

He kisses you until you're gasping and your body is pleading for more. 

The both of you kiss each other until you're sure nothing else will replace the taste of one another, that it will linger forever even if your paths stop crossing at any point in time. 

It feels like you're trapped somewhere where the clock doesn't tick at all, where you can take your time exploring him with your mouth and your hands. 

And then it doesn't. 

The fabric of the dress starts bothering you, his tight shirt is suddenly not tight enough and the hardness steadily growing and pressing into your core is screaming for attention you can't give him with all these clothes on the way. 

He feels it too, fingers tracing the hem of your dress for the second time today and then they're under it, pulling at the fabric up until it bunches on your waist. 

You're still wearing the swimsuit he helped you put on earlier but it does little to conceal how affected you are. Looking down, you're not even ashamed of it when he follows your eyes and let his linger on the patch of wetness darkening the color of the bottoms. 

Still, he moves his hands upwards again and soon you're struggling to get the dress off, considering you're almost bumping the roof of the car when you straighten your spine to do so. 

“Wanna know what crossed my mind when I saw you in the bathroom?” 

When it's finally off, he immediately goes for it: His index tracing your collarbone and slowly descending, his short nail dragging against your skin before the rest of his fingers join, right in between your breasts, where there's fabric holding together the top of the swimsuit. 

He could easily tug on it if he wanted to. Instead, he ignores it and presses the heel of his hand against it, forcing you to lean back and almost bump into the steering wheel again. 

Unable to speak and panting, you only nod as a reply to his question. 

“How easy it would be to get on my knees and eat you out. I thought: What if I just…” Using his other hand to mess with the knots that keep the left bottom part of the swimsuit together, he demonstrates what he means without actually doing it, his eyes following the motions “Undo these, get on my knees and make her come all over my face?” 

“Fuck, Mingi…” 

“You would like that, wouldn't you?” He smirks without actually looking at you, the hand on your sternum traveling down against your skin before joining the other one, teasing the knots on the right. 

“Y-yes.” 

Maybe he can see it on your face, the sudden nervousness at the scene he painted before you, because he grabs one of your hands and brings them to his lips before drawing you close again “Please tell me your idiot ex-boyfriend ate you out when you were together.” 

Blush darkening, you make a face that gives the answer away. 

He groans “He's worse than I thought, fuck. Come here.” And without any warning, the back of his seat goes down until it touches the backseat with it.

Bracing yourself against his chest, because you went down with him as well, you huff out a surprised laugh “Go where?” 

“Up here. Let me teach you something tonight.” 

“Mingi…” 

“First, you need to make sure your hands are clean—” 

“Stop,” laughing, you interrupt his bad attempt at teasing you with the same words you used on him yesterday “There's no real support for me if we do this, where do I even—” 

“Knees here,” he motions the backseat and you could actually do it, but you would have to sit on his face instead of hovering like you imagine it would be more comfortable for him “hands here” he points to the grab handle and the headrest of the passenger seat and then straightens his spine a little, bringing his face closer to you so he can whisper right into your worn out lips “Turn the light off, I'll do the rest.” 

He looks like he's going to kiss you but then he falls back onto the seat with an excited smile curving his lips. 

What a tease. 

So of course you turn off the light and prop yourself up into the position he wants to. It's challenging, the car is not that small but it feels like it is and you very much would rather do this on a bed, spare his back and yours in the process, but excitement also runs through your body and your brain stops making up excuses for why should deny yourself of the pleasure of Mingi using his mouth to make you see stars the second his fingers undo the knots and peel the bottom half of your swimsuit off your body with ease. 

Lips trailing up your inner thighs and hands on each side of them, holding you in a secure position, Mingi doesn't tease you much before attaching his mouth to your heat and your subconsciousness flies out the window when his tongue flicks your clit. 

You look down at him and the sight of him enjoying himself has you beaming, the warmth spreads through you and the zeroes on your pussy. You don't even try to quiet down your moans, completely forgetting that you're in a public parking lot that can fill up at any second. 

But paying no mind to it either, Mingi also moans encouragingly into your wet folds when your hips move a little, chasing that high. 

He shifts his focus to your entrance, his tongue working itself into you and when you move your hips again at the feeling, his nose bumps into your clit in a way that has you grasping the headrest for support, right hand slipping down and resting on the window while your mouth hangs open and your eyes shut close. 

“Mingi… Baby, fuck, I'll—” he adds his thumb into his ministrations, pressing it against your clit the way he did yesterday and it only takes a few side to side movements for you to come undone on his mouth. 

And again, the intensity of your orgasm takes you by surprise. It's obviously not as intense as yesterday's but it still got you trembling so you want to curse him out for being that good at what he does. 

He eases you into it, slowing his mouth and you only register that it leaves you completely when your thighs are being kissed tenderly. 

Breathless, you look down at him and catch his smile before his teeth are sinking into your skin and forcing you to hiss out a laugh “Good?” 

“Yeah,” you smile, climbing down from your position and hovering over his lap in an attempt to not ruin his jeans. It's very obvious he enjoyed it too, his crotch holding the evidence tight and probably painfully against the fabric there “Really, really good.” 

You want to get on your knees and return the favor, make him squirm in pleasure, but the space is not working in your favor. So even though your thighs are hurting and sweat is dripping down your neck, you start working on the button and zipper of his jeans before he sits up.

He wants to say something, but your tongue is touching his and tasting yourself on it before he gets the chance. Clumsily, a little too far gone for your liking as well, you are able to get through the layers of clothes and let your hand hang over his dick “Are you gonna make me beg for it today?” 

“You don't have to, love.” 

“Beg?” you ask with a smile that he reciprocates “Or touch you?” your free hand brushes the hair out of his face, sliding down until you're propping his chin up with it, thumb tracing his bottom lip softly “Because I want to touch you. I want to make you feel so, so good, baby. Please.” 

He kisses the pad of your thumb and then takes it into his mouth, tongue caressing the tip of it until you're panting again and then nods. 

That's all the permission you need before taking him with your hand and pulling him out of his boxers. Taking your hand out briefly, you gather up saliva and spit right into it. 

Mingi lets out a noise at that. Interesting. 

Starting slow, you focus on his expression. Testing the waters, taking note of what he likes because, unlike him, you probably pushed to the corner of your mind every sexual conversation you two had before yesterday. You take a second to look down at it, the size is no surprise but your mouth waters at the image of you taking him into the heat of it. 

Maybe another time. For now, you focus on making him feel good with the little you can offer him in the enclosed space of his car. 

He mouths at your neck, choked up sobs vibrate through the skin on your collarbone and your top gets moved to the side so he can mark the side of your boobs as he pleases. It sets the fire inside of you alive again, your folds getting wetter when he rolls his tongue around your nipple and then throws his head back when you twist your hand in a motion he seems to really enjoy.

“Just like that, love.” 

To your delight, he's not quiet. He's loud, he's grabby, taking the opportunity to hold onto your ass and press down on the skin when you tease his slit and gather his precum on your fingers so you can spread it around his cock and your hand can slide easier. 

Movements get sloppy once he's close, he's no longer paying attention to you and you welcome it as a great sign, his hips bucking into your hand and he moves you forward until you're sitting on his lap again. 

The only thing preventing your pussy and his dick to touch being your hand. 

You glance at him and he looks back, probably the same idea popping up into his mind so you nod once.

The car moves as you two move around, to the back seat, the spine of his seat up and the entire thing moving forward to make space for him next to you, over you, on top of you once he kicks his jeans and boxers off to the floor. 

You reach out to him in a silent plea and he bends down to kiss you soft and moist and hot and breathy, sensually, with sweet sounds escaping both of you when you reach under his shirt and lift it up until he gets what you want. Discarding it with the rest of his clothes, your top follows it and the contentment you feel when his naked chest touches yours is unmeasurable. 

There's no real room to move around and there's not really any patience left within both of you, so when he apologizes when he moves his hips where he shouldn't and his tip brushes your entrance, you pull back from his bruising mouth. 

“Condom. Now.” 

He obliges right away, searching on his jeans for a minute or so and when he comes back he's smirking like he can't believe you “When I told you we needed to raincheck I didn't mean it to be like this. Bossy.” 

Even if you're punching him on his chest and giggling at his breathy words, you take the teasing with pride “You started it, Mingi!” 

Putting the condom on skilled and fast, he's soon resting his forehead against yours and kissing you softly again “I wanted you on my bed…” his lips trail down and the giggles die on your throat as he's kissing it, a moan escaping you “On your back or knees or riding me…” he continues in a whisper going down and down and down, giving your nipples attention before going back up and taking your mouth in his again “Making a mess on my cock…” 

He takes the opportunity to enter you slowly and you gasp at the stretch, wet enough so it doesn't hurt you but you're unfamiliar with him, with his size splitting you open deliciously. 

“F-fuck, Y/N.” Mingi leans back to watch you take him in and you whine again. Tilting your head back, you let him work himself in and you moan loudly when he almost bottoms out “Look at you…” 

You don't. You can't. He's pressing his thumb on your clit again to ease you through the stretch and it makes the heat pool in your belly like you didn't come in his mouth a few minutes ago. 

Slowly but surely it gets easier for him to rock his hips into you, mouth parting in pleasure when you remind yourself to look at him. His abdomen tenses when you run your nails against the skin there, softly, until you're detouring them into his back and sinking them in just enough to have him whining at the feeling. 

“Baby… Harder.” 

“Yeah?” 

Hips bucking up to meet his at a particularly hard trust, you reach up to him so he can rest his body weight on yours. Close like this, with the pace picking up, the knot on your lower half tightens and threatens to break. 

“You take me so well, love. Fuck, always knew you would,” you know he can feel your walls tightening around him at the praise, because he smiles and kisses you once before continuing “My pretty, pretty girl… Taking my cock so well…” he punctuates his words with the roll of his hips and you cry out, holding his face in between your hands, his eyes never leaving yours. 

In this position, his lower abdomen bumps into your clit and it's soon tipping you over the edge. 

“So good, so good, oh— Oh, God.” You're mumbling incoherently while Mingi keeps whispering sweet nothings and then the tension on your belly breaks. It takes three seconds of your walls pulsating around him for him to groan loudly into your mouth and come undone as well. 

The only thing you can hear is breathing, all you can feel is breathing. His against your chin, yours blowing on his hair when you rest your cheek on his temple. 

It takes a second to gather yourself again and when you do, you tilt your head back to give him a chaste kiss that he returns. 

“That was so good, baby.” You tell him and he smiles, nodding in agreement “I am sticking to the fucking seat though.” 

Mingi snorts and just like that the energy shifts back to the usual you. Only this time, you come back to it knowing that no one’s ever going to have you the way he does. 

He slips out of you, doing his thing with the condom and you sit up, looking through the windows and becoming aware of your surroundings for the first time since you got there. 

There's a car parked far away from you that's empty and the rest of the cars that were near it have left. You wonder how long this all took, because you lost track of time the second he told you he likes you. 

Chest still heaving and boxers now on, Mingi rests his back on the door and takes your hand in his “Is it dumb of me to assume you're my girlfriend now, love?” 

“Is it dumb that I assumed that's what I was when you said you like me?” 

“No,” he answers right away ���not dumb at all.” 

Smiling, you nod “Then I'm your girlfriend, Mingi.” 

He beams at that and then he's crowding you again “Say it again.” 

“I'm your girlfriend.” you repeat, enunciating each word and giggling when he nuzzles his nose into the crimson on your cheek “I’m yours, baby.” 

Resting his forehead against yours, he hums in contempt “Good, because I've always been yours too.” 

“There's no way! You two... together? Guys… See, that would be me if I didn't saw it coming but I'm smarter and cooler than everyone here so I did.” 

Wooyoung's over the top reaction has Mingi throwing his head back in a silent laugh and you staring at the black haired guy, unamused and a little offended. 

It's two days later and, as usual, you're at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment hanging out. 

After putting your clothes back on and going for some well deserved food, Mingi took you home, kissed you goodnight and showed up the next day after class to break the news to your parents. 

Your mom almost cried. Your dad too, but for a completely different reason. 

In the end, they both agreed they saw it coming and when you told Mingi’s parents, they said the same thing and invited yours to have celebratory dinner without you. 

What happened in Mingi’s room after was worth missing dinner anyways. 

Mingi and you decided to break the news when most of the group showed up for movie night and you were nervous to see their reactions. 

But everyone seems unaffected by it. 

“I knew you guys liked each other the second I met you. Ask Gyuri, she agrees with me.” 

“Sadly, I do.” Wooyoung's ex looks at you from her spot by the door, where she's getting her shoes on. 

She winks at you and you fake a gasp, falling into your boyfriend's lap with an annoyed huff. 

“And no one told us?!” 

“Sorry, Y/N. We didn't want to get in the way.” Hwa is apologetic and Yeosang nods alongside Hongjoong but you gape at them like they betrayed your trust. 

“To be fair we didn't know till’ last week, love.” 

“She didn't know.” Gyuri corrects him and now you turn to her to give her the betrayed look “You were pining over it for six months already.” 

“I say it was more like nine but…” Hwa shrugs and sips his cup, giving the man holding you close a knowing smile. 

Oh, they definitely talked about it, huh? 

“Nine months and no one cared to fill me in, huh?” 

“I’m sure Mingi did—” 

“Wooyoung!” 

“Well I didn't notice.” Yunho interferes with a shrug and gives you a recomforting smile that doesn't work at all. 

San laughs “That's because you're a puppy that can't even tell when someone likes you.” 

“Am not!” 

Everyone, including you and Mingi, make a noise in agreement with San.  

“You're one to talk, though, leave the puppy alone.” Gyuri tells her ex's best friend and Wooyoung laughs at him when his smile drops. 

There's some story there you don't know. 

“Guys… Does someone like me right now? Be honest.” 

Yeosang is about to tell him something but Jongho interrupts. 

“Enough with the love talk! Can we start the movie?” But he's pressing play already, so the answer doesn't really matter. 

Gyuri laughs once and Wooyoung makes his way over to her to give her a hug that she enjoys for one second tops before pushing him away. 

“Enjoy everyone! I'm so happy for you two, by the way, not that these neanderthals would tell you to your face but I'm sure they're too.” 

“Thank you, Gyuri.” Mingi murmurs from behind you and you mouth a thank you as well before she leaves for the night. 

Something about her best friend having a boy crisis. 

You don't miss the way San’s eyes follow her until she leaves or the way he looks at Woo, something clearly worrying him. 

His best friend ignores him, though, so you confirm that might just be a little pissed off at him after all. 

“Tell her to text you what happens.” San asks Woo once she leaves and he rolls his eyes. 

“Mhm. I’ll tell her to stop calling us neanderthals too.” 

You smile “Well, she's right.” 

“Nuh-uh!” 

Jongho has to stop the movie and you see him sulk while everyone else is arguing. Some of them, like Hwa and Yeo, are siding with you and Gyuri. And the rest of them, like your boyfriend, are telling them off. 

When you turn to face him, his argument dies mid-sentence because he stops to smile at you. He takes your face in his hand and kisses you for the first time ever in front of everyone else. The group stops the argument to tease you both and you laugh into his mouth. 

A cushion is thrown at you and Jongho gets up to separate your faces before sitting beside you with a pout on his lips. 

“Can we watch the goddamn movie?!” 

You're the happiest you've ever been.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[msfantasy-comics]

The Opposites Attract

Dick Grayson x Reader

Summary: A Head Cannon on which Dick Grayson and Y/n oppose each other yet remain wholly compatible.

Warning: Y/n is depicted as angsty and a little feral. 

Masterlist - Tip Jar

Opposites attract they say.

Yet Dick and Y/n are such polar opposites surely their difference outweigh each other.

Despite it all, the two love birds gravitate each other due to their completing differences.

Extrovert vs. Introvert

Dick is insanely outgoing and is recharged by socialising. His perfect setting is in a crowded rowdy rooms where the conversation moves like wildfire. Wild and Abrupt.

Y/n on the other hand, prefers a quite space with one-on-one conversations.

In typical extraverted fashion. Dick adopts the introverted Y/n and encourages her to step outside her comfort zone and talk to others.

But it’s just not in her nature.

How the hell are you meant to jump into a conversation?

How are you meant to have a say on a topic when three other people are talking over each other to get their 2 cents in?

You gave up almost immediately and retreated back to your safe corner always from the shoulder bashing and elbow jabbing walk way.

Dick was initially disappointed to see you give up so quickly until he noticed that you were carrying on your socialising in your own way.

You sat silently as strangers poured their heart out to you.

Silently nodding and humming in agreement every now and then before the person sighed, thanked you for listening and walked off.

Dick really admires that about you.

Dick: “Need some company.”

Y/n: “Only if you bring me the good vibes.”

Optimist vs. Pessimist

Dick is a buzzing bundle of bountiful energy.

Dick is never short on absurdly positive outcomes despite all odds indicating otherwise.

Why live in a delusional state? You know the realities of life.

And the reality is that life can be shit and it doesn’t turn out well for everyone no matter how much they try or desperately scramble to achieve their hopes.

Hope is pointless.

There is just something obnoxiously wonderful about Dick.

How is it that your boy wonder lights a flame in you that fills you with certainty that all will be right as long as he is here?

You greatly admire how infectious Dicks positivity can be.

Y/n: “Why keep sending them to Arkham only to escape and ruin lives? Might as well just put an end to their burdensome presence.”

Dick: “Oh honey nooooo. Everyone deserves a chance at redemption. Snuffing out the life of a person doesn’t solve the root of the issue.”

Y/n: “Who cares! Nothing matters in the end anyway, we will all die and become obsolete. Only to let the next generation bitch and moan about the inequality of it all.”

Dick: “Ah, my precious little sunshine can be such a downer, yes you can.”

*Condescendingly pinches cheeks*

Secretive vs. Open

Dick just wants the best of both worlds.

To be the figure head for heroism, hope, peace and safety, without an of the consequences of having your image publicly known.

Dick would never want to endanger the lives of those around him due to his passions in crime fighting.

Therefore, he must maintain the secrecy of the bat and the mask.

You, however, don’t understand how or why your boy wonder hides his true identity.

It’s not like Dick Grayson is an every day normal civilian.

He’s a fricken heir to Gotham wealthiest philanthropist.

It’s not like he doesn’t have any privacy on either alter egos.

But the Bats secret is not your own to share.

So instead you live freely by your own rules.

You admit your identities and aren’t afraid to show the public your true self.

You honestly couldn’t care less about public perception.

Dick, admires your unapologetic lifestyle.

Aggressive Random: “You shouldn’t -“

Y/n: “Piss Off- no one asked you.”

Dick: “Ah sweetie… maybe you should listen to what they have to say.”

Y/n: “I couldn’t give a rats!”

[bossbtch1]

Against All Odds part 2

The GIFs are not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.

Summary : After the ‘incident’ on the gym with Bucky, now you had left with some unanswered questions about your relationship with him. You decided to confront him about it.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

General tags : Slight smut and pure angst

TW: Strong language, Masturbation (f), Hurt, Heavy angst, Bucky an asshole

Word Count: 7k

A/N : Hey there! Guess who's back? This is the long-awaited Part 2. My apologies for the delay; I've revised the plot about three times to ensure its genuinely angsty. It's about to get tougher before it gets better! Get ready for the emotional rollercoaster!

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

These are the aesthetic for part 2 (solely for visual representation of what going to happen on the story, this meant no representation for body type or ethnicity)

You were panicking as someone could see you in such state, strangely, Bucky seemed unfazed, his expression steady despite the unexpected interruption. Then, your heart skipped a beat as the doorknob turned.

The person outside attempted to open the door, but they couldn’t. Relief flooded you, thank God Bucky had locked the door. "Is someone in here? You know you can’t lock the door," the voice outside the room chastised, followed by insistent knocks.

"Fuck." Bucky muttered, frustration etched on his face. "Who's interrupting us now?" He released you from his embrace, standing up abruptly. "We need to leave." His hand found yours, offering support as he helped you to your feet.

Your legs felt wobbly, but Bucky steadied you as he handed over your clothes. "Here," he said, helping you slip into them. "Put these on."

Bucky was about to pulled up his pants, when he saw your panties in his hand. A mischievous smile formed on his lips. "Hold still."

Confused, you questioned, "What are you doing?"

He playfully stuffed your panties into his pocket. "I'm keeping these as a little souvenir."

"You can't just take those!" you protested, your face flushing with embarrassment.

Bucky simply shrugged, his expression unapologetic. "Sure, I can," he said, enjoying the playful banter despite the urgency of the situation.

Before you could retort, the voice from outside grew more impatient. "Hey! I can hear you in there. I'm coming in if you don't answer me," it warned, the threat clear in its tone.

Bucky's expression changed, growing serious as the sound of keys jiggling reached his ears. With a swift nod, you both understood it was time to make your escape.

"We have to go. Now." He said, ushering you towards the other exit, his arm protectively wrapping around you. "Just keep quiet."

You finished putting your clothes back on. Bucky held onto you as he walked across the room, looking for your shoes. You were about to put on your shoes, when you heard the same person call out. You could hear he was picking keys to opened the door.  

Bucky glanced over at the door. "He’s going see us. We should go."

But you halted his hasty retreat, pulling him back toward you. "Bucky, wait," you said, you blushed. "I don't think I can walk." You admitted.

He grinned, a look of pure male satisfaction on his face. "Here hop on," he turned his back to you. "I'll give you a piggyback ride."

"What? No, that's embarrassing." you protested, even though you really did need help walking.  You felt stupid for feeling so excited, but the thought of being carried by him, made your stomach flutter.

Bucky was persistent. "C'mon, I’ll carry you." he motioned for you to climb onto his back.

"Bucky... I don’t know...," You argued, blushing as you looked down at the ground.

"Oh, please." Bucky scoffed. "I can bench press 500 pounds without breaking a sweat. You weigh nothing to me." He reassured you, his arms outstretched as he bent down.

"Fine," you gave in. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hopped onto his back. Bucky hoisted you up, wrapping his hands underneath your thighs.  "This is kind of weird."

"You better hold on tight." He grabbed your shoes with him and went to the back door. "Ready?"

“Yeah.” You tightened your arms around him.

Then you remember, "Wait! I haven't got my phone. It's still on the floor." You protested.

Bucky groaned in exasperation. "You know, that's what's going to get us caught."

"Yes, but then they’ll know it was me in here. Turn around and grab my phone.” You ordered him. He did as you told him even though he wasn’t happy about it, gabbing your phone from the floor.

Bucky started walking towards the door. The sound of keys were being turned, it looked like he found the key. "Hurry, Buck!" You said to him.

"Don't worry, I'll get us out of here."

He pushed the door open and stepped out. You had made it halfway through the alleyway when you saw someone coming. "Shit, run."

Bucky bolted down the alley, with you holding onto him. You both were safe until you reached the elevator, and then you could relax. Once you inside the elevator, Bucky kept you perched on his back. He refused to let you go until the doors closed.

Are we good now?" you asked, your voice still tinged with the adrenaline from the escape.

"Yes," Bucky answered. "We're good now."

"You can put me down now, Bucky." You suggested.

"You sure?" He looked back at you. "You're not as heavy as I thought." 

"Gee, thanks," you muttered sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his attempt to lighten the mood.

He chuckled softly as he carefully lowered you to the ground. You reached up and felt how your hair had become all tangled. Your lips were swollen from his kisses. And you couldn't even begin to imagine what your eyes looked like.

"Thanks for the ride," you said, a weary smile gracing your lips as you recalled the unconventional piggyback escape.

"Anytime, doll," Bucky responded with a hint of amusement, his relief palpable.

You smoothed out your clothes and fixed your hair. You leaned against the wall, catching your breath.

"Hey," Bucky said, his voice softening as he placed a hand on your shoulder, his eyes searching yours. "Are you okay?"

You offered a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm fine." However, curiosity crept into your voice, "But earlier, when we were... interrupted. Who was it?"

Bucky hesitated before admitting, "No one, I was just messing with you."

A wave of relief washed over you upon hearing his words. You  stood next to each other, neither one of you saying a word. The air between you was heavy, but not uncomfortably so. You were glad you had finally slept with him. You had wanted it for a while now, but he was so hard to read.

You wondered what happened now. Would things be awkward between the two of you? Would he pretend like nothing happened?

You were about to break the silence when the elevator door slid open, interrupting your thoughts.

"After you," Bucky said, offering a gallant gesture, indicating for you to exit first.

"Thank you," you replied, stepping out of the elevator. Bucky followed you, and you both began your walk down the corridor in the direction of your room.

In the midst of the silence, Bucky took a deep breath, as if mustering the words he wanted to say. "Listen, Y/N."

You turned to him. "Yes?" you responded, ready for the conversation you knew was coming.

However, as Bucky was about to speak, Steve entered the compound, heading down the same hallway toward both of you. A twinge of frustration shot through you as you silently cursed Steve for his untimely intrusion, just when the conversation appeared ready to take a more serious turn.

You couldn't help but wonder, 'What is he doing here?' as your irritation simmered beneath the surface.

"Y/N, about—" Bucky started again, his words cut off as you held up a hand.

"Hold that thought," you interrupted him, your gaze fixated down the hall where Steve was approaching.

"What's wrong?"

"Steve's coming," you replied, your irritation evident. The interruption was untimely, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at the universe's sense of timing.

Bucky followed your gaze, and his face fell as soon as he saw his friend. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath.

You both watched as Steve drew nearer, his pace slowing down as he approached you and Bucky. "Hi, Buck," Steve greeted his friend, patting him on the shoulder. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he glanced over at you, then back at Bucky. “I thought you left hours ago."

"I did, but I had some stuff to take care of," Bucky replied swiftly, his expression unreadable. You sensed an immediate shift in Bucky's demeanor, a return to his cold, distant self in the presence of his friend.

You were about to question Steve's unexpected presence, considering he was supposed to be on a mission with the rest of the team. However, Bucky voiced the query before you could. "Has the mission ended? Where’s everyone?"

Steve nodded, his expression serious. "It hasn't, but I had to drop something off, and I'll be heading out again soon," he explained. "Mostly things had been wrapped up, just one last loose end."

"Alright, good to hear," Bucky said, acknowledging the update.

Steve's brows knitted together, his lips curving into a frown. "You look a little disheveled. What were you doing?" he asked, his suspicion evident in his tone.

"We were training," you chimed in, your voice steady, a lie slipping from your lips without hesitation. The lie rolled off your tongue with ease, and technically, it wasn't entirely false – you and Bucky had indeed been ‘sparring’ earlier.

"Oh, I see." Steve nodded, seeming satisfied with your explanation. "I'm glad you're getting some one-on-one time.”

"It was a pretty intense session," Bucky replied, his tone flat, his eyes avoiding Steve's scrutinizing gaze. You couldn't help but conceal a smile; indeed, it had been an incredibly intense workout, but not in the way Steve was imagining.

Steve raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Well, alright. As long as it was a good workout," he said, his tone carrying a hint of suspicion, although he ultimately seemed to dismiss his concerns, not pressing further.

Steve then turned his attention to you, his expression laden with guilt. "Y/N, about the mission..." He hesitated, clearly burdened by a sense of responsibility, though you knew all too well there was nothing he could have done differently.

Your patience wore thin, not this again, you thought, feeling your mood sour. "It's okay, Steve," you said, your tone carrying a hint of annoyance. "I know it wasn't your fault."

Steve managed a smile, though the unease lingered in his eyes. "Thanks, but I still feel responsible."

"Drop it, Steve. It really wasn't your fault," you insisted, your tone firm.

Sensing the conversation wasn't going anywhere productive, you decided to retreat to your room, especially now that Bucky seemed to have reverted to his usual self and showed no intention of continuing the discussion you'd been having.

"Well, I guess I should get going. See ya later," you said, offering a half-hearted wave before making your exit. As you walked away, a sense of disappointment settled in your chest.

You could barely walk, your thighs aching as you began to walked away. Unbeknownst to you, Steve's eyes followed your limping form, "What the hell happened to her?" he wondered aloud, his concern evident. You blushed deeply, hastening your pace in an attempt to avoid further scrutiny.

Overhearing Steve's question, Bucky replied, his tone nonchalant, "Don't know."

Once you made it to your room, you sighed in relief as you closed the door behind you. You flopped down on the bed, burying your face in the pillow.

"I can't believe we just had sex in the gym," you mumbled to yourself, your voice muffled by the soft fabric of the pillow. Replaying the events in your head, you couldn't help but wonder about Bucky's behavior. "Why does he act differently around the team and then like this with me? What's his problem? Does he want me, or does he not want to be seen with me? Is he ashamed of me?"

You're worried that the whole "fuck and don't talk" thing is going to be the new thing. You couldn't help but wish it wouldn't happened in the future. It was great sex, but it would be even greater if there were actual feelings involved.

"What do I do?" You asked the pillow, knowing the inanimate object wouldn't respond. Exhausted from both the training session and your ‘sparring’ with Bucky was tiring you even more, you decided to take a nap, planning to contemplate your next steps once you had some rest.

The nap was short-lived when a soft knock echoed through the room. You rolled over in bed, and then you heard, "Y/N, are you asleep?" Wanda's gentle voice seeped through the door, causing you to frown as you sat up.

Recognizing it was Wanda, you got up from your bed and opened the door. "Oh, sorry, you were indeed asleep," she remarked, noticing your hair messed up. "I apologize for waking you up."

"I wanted your help," she said, her fingers fidgeting as she sat on the edge of your bed. "Vision's birthday is in two days," she explained, leaving you wondering how this concerned you. "And I want to give him something nice."

You let her finish, nodding in understanding. "I want to buy him this present, but I'm embarrassed," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You furrowed your brow, trying to grasp her dilemma. "Embarrassed?" you prodded, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I've never been to a sex store, I've never bought... you know... that sort of thing before. I thought if you could help me, it would be a bit less awkward," Wanda confessed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You were taken aback by her request, feeling both bewildered and unsure how to respond. "A sex store?"

She blushed deeper, her words tumbling out in a rush, "Well, Vision and I have been experimenting, and we've tried a lot of things. There's something new I want to try-"

"Wait, wait, wait," you interrupted, raising your hand to stop her. "I don't want to know any details.” You put a hand on her shoulder. "What you do with Vis is your business, and I'm glad that you're both happy."

You continued, your confusion apparent, "Wanda, why are you asking me to help you? Why don't you ask Natasha?" You hesitated, admitting your own unease about the situation. The idea of going to a sex store was equally embarrassing to you.

"I trust you," Wanda said earnestly. "I love Natasha, but sometimes she's too wild, you know? She'd probably buy me something that would end up on the Pornhub." Her reasoning made sense, and you recalled Natasha's tendency to be overly candid about her sex life.

"Besides," she added, "Natasha's on a mission, and she won't be back in time. By the time she and Vision return, it'll be too late." Her plea was both desperate and hopeful, and you couldn't help but empathize with her situation.

"Why can't you just go alone?” You inquired, trying to grasp her hesitation.

"It’s too embarrassing.” Wanda admitted, her eyes dropping to her lap. "People recognize me, and I'm worried about what they'll say, what they'll think." She hesitated before continuing, "I mean, people don't recognize you."

Ouch that hurt, but you knew what she meant.

Wanda quickly realized her blunder. "Y/N, I'm so, so sorry. I-I didn't mean it like that. You had a mask with your costume, and your name is a secret, so... I'm just nervous. I'm sorry," she apologized, her tone filled with regret.

You chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. "It's fine, I get what you mean," you reassured her, rubbing the back of your neck. "I don't like the idea of people recognizing me either."

There was a brief pause as you considered her request. "Um... I don't know, Wanda. It's not really my area," you said, hesitant about getting involved in such a personal matter.

"Please, Y/N. It would really mean a lot to me. I'm nervous about going by myself. I've never bought these kinds of things," Wanda pleaded.

You were about to decline her request when she dropped a bombshell. "I wasn't going to use this on you, but you leave me no choice," she said, her tone taking a sly turn.

"Uh, okay? What did you see?" you asked, frowning in confusion.

"You and Bucky," she smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "I know all about the secret affair."

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard her words. Trying to maintain your composure, you feigned innocence. "What secret affair?" you responded, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Wanda continued to wear that knowing smirk. "I saw you and Bucky in the gym," she added, not letting you off the hook.

You swallowed hard, feeling your pulse quicken. "Oh, we were just sparring," you said, attempting to provide a reasonable explanation, though your voice sounded weaker than you had hoped.

Wanda gave you a look that said, 'Yeah, right.' "Sure, you were.” She continued to smirk, “If by mean sparring involving his tongue down your throat and his dick in you.”

Your eyes widened, and you stammered, "Wh-what?” Trying to play it off coolly, you added, “You must be mistaken. We didn't..."

Wanda chuckled, her amusement evident. “Don't lie to me. Bucky's eyes met mine." She teased, her playful demeanor breaking the tension in the room. She continued, "and you, my friend, looked so fucking hot."

You blushed harder, but you felt a bit proud, "Well, you can't blame me. Bucky's so hot and so damn sexy, he can make any girl go weak in the knees."

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts, focusing on the more pressing issue at hand. "But seriously, how did you see us? Why aren't you on the mission? But Bucky said no one else entered the gym today." A flicker of confusion crossed your face as you recalled the locked door. "How did you even get in?"

Wanda chuckled, her amusement undeniably genuine. "Relax, you're like a storm of questions. Let me break it down for you." She leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes glinting with mischief. "First, the mission? Turns out, I'm a bit too unpredictable for Tony's taste. He thinks my powers might mess up the plan. So, here I am, stuck in the compound."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Tony Stark's cautious approach. Your sympathy for her situation grew.

"And about the gym door," she continued, her tone casual, "well, that's where my power come in handy. I can open any door with a wave of my hand and step right in, undetected."

"I'm sorry," you said sincerely. "About the mission, I mean. I couldn't go either. Maybe that makes you feel a bit better."

Wanda offered you a warm and forgiving smile. "No need to apologize," she said, dismissing your apology with a wave of her hand. Leaning in closer, her tone took on a mischievous edge. "Now, let me continue," she said with a sly grin. "I was getting ready for my gym session earlier, and then I heard some interesting sounds coming from this room. I peeked in, saw you and Bucky having a heated argument, and I was about to step in."

You squirmed in your seat, mortified by her revelation.

Wanda continued with a sly grin, relishing the opportunity to tease you. "And then... he kissed you," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "and I instantly knew things were about to get intense. It was quite the show by the way,"

Your face turned various shades of red as you tried to process her unexpected presence during such an intimate moment.

She chuckled, her tone playful. "But here's the kicker, after Bucky noticed me, he didn't bother slowing down. He kept on kissing into you, while he was looking at me. That's when I decided it was my cue to make a graceful exit.”  

You were taken aback by that revelation. "Wait so you only saw us kissing? You didn't see what happened next?" you asked.

Wanda raised an eyebrow and nodded. "That's right, just the kissing. But the way you were moaning, I had a pretty good idea of where things were headed."

You hid your face in your hands, unable to shake the embarrassment that had washed over you. "Wanda, you witch!" She was playing you so good. She was just guessing about it. If you played it cool, maybe you could salvage the situation. After all, Wanda didn't know the extent of your involvement with Bucky.

"What? Am I wrong?" she said, grinning slyly.

"Maybe?"

"Liar, I know I'm not." She said. “Now I know you fucked each other.” she concluded, raising an eyebrow mischievously, thoroughly enjoying the newfound power dynamic.

"Okay, we were caught in the act," you sighed, defeated. You blushed a little, "What are you going to do about it? Tell on us?"

"I'm not going to tell anyone about you lovebirds, if that's what you're worried about," Wanda assured, her expression surprisingly understanding, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Your embarrassment surged again, "Lovebirds? We're not..." you began, attempting to deny any romantic involvement.

She cut you off with a knowing grin. "Oh, please. I've seen enough romantic tension to recognize it when I see it. And you two? Well, let's just say, your 'sparring session' was more intense than any training I've witnessed."

"But it was probably a one-time thing." You tried to sound nonchalant, but even you knew it was a stretch. "That's just physical attraction. Nothing more."

"Really?" Wanda gave you a skeptikal looks. "It looked like there was something more going on between the two of you than just fucking. I saw the way he looked at you when no one was looking. It was different. Like you were his. Like he didn't want anyone to touch you, and you were his and only his."

"Wanda, are you serious?"

She nodded, "Yes! I know there's something more between you and Bucky, and I also know you have feelings for him, too."

You hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I don't know... we haven't talked about it." You sighed, "I don't think he wants more than just sex, anyway."

Wanda gave you a confused look, "Are you serious? Did he tell you that?"

You shook your head slowly. "Well, no, not really. He hasn't mentioned anything, and it's not like we've had the chance to discuss our relationship."

"Well, I'm not supposed to tell you this. Bucky will kill me if he finds out, but I'm going to say it anyway," she confessed. You chuckled inwardly, the most powerful Avenger, being cautious of Bucky.

Intrigued, you leaned in closer, your curiosity piqued. "What's going on?"

Wanda continued, "He told me not to tell you that I saw you two kissing because he didn't want you to worry about it. And when I asked where you were, he said you were probably sleeping, and I should let you be."

"He said that?" You felt your heart swell. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach.

Wanda nodded, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Yes, and that's why I'm sure there's more to it. I can see it in his eyes. I know he has feelings for you."

"He does? How did you know?"

"Y/N, I know people. I can read his mind if you want, but that would be an invasion of his privacy," Wanda explained, her tone reassuring yet firm.

"Yeah, of course. I won't let you do that," you quickly responded, appreciating her respect for boundaries. "But thanks, Wanda. I appreciate you telling me."

"Now, let's go back to my problem.” she said, steering the conversation back to her original request. “Come on, Y/N, please help me go to the sex store.”

You hesitated, considering her request. Then an idea struck you. "How about we just order online?" you suggested. "That way, neither of us has to go near the place. We can discreetly make the purchase online."

"That does sound like a better plan," she nodded eagerly. Then, with a hint of desperation in her voice, she added, "But, please, make sure it's addressed to you and not me. I really don't want anyone to know I made that purchase," she implored.

You raised a valid concern. "What about me? People will still find out if it's shipped to me."

Wanda leaned in, her voice low and reassuring. "But they don’t know your real name, Y/N. No one knows except us and the Avengers."

You sighed, feeling a mixture of annoyance and reluctant agreement. "Fine," you conceded, rolling your eyes. "It will be addressed to me. But please, Wanda, promise me you will keep your mouth shut."

"Of course, Y/N, you can trust me. I won't breathe a word to anyone," Wanda assured you with a genuine sincerity. "Your secret's safe with me, I swear."

Relieved, you allowed a small smile. In response, she beamed, pulling you into a tight hug. "Thank you, Y/N! You're the best person ever!" she exclaimed, squeezing you with enthusiasm.

You chuckled awkwardly. "You're welcome, I guess." Returning the hug, you hoped that your decision wouldn't lead to unexpected complications.

She broke the hug, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'll send you the link later," she said, her tone tinged with excitement. Rising to her feet, she continued, "I'll leave you to rest now. You must be exhausted after your workout, aren't you?" She smirked knowingly, her gaze flickering towards the door, "And I bet Bucky play a big part on it too, didn't he?"

"Shut up." You grabbed a nearby pillow and playfully tossed it at her. She dodged it with a laugh before heading towards the door.

"Bye, Y/N," she called out, her voice fading as she exited the room.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile at her audacious attitude. She was certainly something, and you knew this secret shopping mission of hers was bound to be an adventure.

You stepped into the shower to get rid of the smell of sweat. The water hit your back and you felt so relaxed, your hand trailed down between your legs, you thought about how good it felt to have his cock inside of you, how he fucked you in the gym.

You stepped on the shower to get ride of the smell of sweat and sex that Bucky left you with. When the cold water touched your skin, it brought you back to the real world.

"Ow! Ow! Shit, shit!" You said under the shower and quickly turned it into warm water. "I forgot how much this place is always cold." You whispered, and began washing your hair and body.

Now you felt relax as the water fell on your head and back. The memory of the moment that happened not even an hour ago played on your mind, like a movie. 'That's right doll, take my cock' and the sound of his low and raspy voice echoed on your head.

Your hand trailed down your body, and when you got to your pussy, you rubbed your clit. "Fuck" you hissed.

You could feel your arousal growing as you started fingering yourself. You leaned your head against the shower wall and moaned his name. You thought about how good it felt to have his mouth all over your neck and body.

The water was hot and steamy, but not enough to cover your moans. Your breathing was ragged and uneven. You imagined it was Bucky who was there with you, touching you. You closed your eyes and tried to recall every detail of the encounter.

Your fingers were now deep inside your pussy, pumping hard and fast. You could still feel his tongue on your clit, licking and sucking. You knew he liked to watch you squirm.

You could feel your orgasm building, the pressure in your stomach was getting stronger and stronger.  

"Cum for me, doll." He whispered in your ear.

"Bucky! Fuck!" You screamed. You arched your back, your eyes rolling back. Your whole body shook with pleasure, waves of pleasure coursed through your veins.

You stood under the shower and breathed deeply. You didn't want to move, the hot water felt nice against your skin. But eventually you got out, wrapped yourself in a towel, and walked to the mirror. "God, look at that" you said, examining your neck.

There was a hickey where Bucky had sucked on it, and another one on your chest. It was too obvious for the others to see, but you didn't mind. You enjoyed it, and the memory made you smile.

As you saw yourself smiling like a fool, you slapped your cheeks lightly, "No, Y/N. Get a hold of yourself. You are not doing this again." But you knew you wanted to do it again.

As you dressed and settled on the bed, your phone chimed, and you saw Wanda sent you a link. Tapping on the link and the site appeared on your phone. You saw a variety of different vibrators and dildos and other stuff.

You tapped on the vibrator and it was in different colors. Black, red, pink, purple, etc.

"Oh wow." you breathed, your eyes widening as you scrolled through the available choices. As you delved deeper into the product descriptions, your intrigue grew.

'Great for solo or partnered play, its shape is flexible so it can be inserted easily, the base is wide enough so it won't slip out and the curved end is made to hit your g-spot, this vibrator is the best and you can't go wrong with it, you will always get pleasure and will leave you satisfied.'

You scrolled through the page, your eyes widening at the sheer array of options. " Jesus Christ, there are so many," you muttered, marveling at the variety.

You didn't know what to pick. So, you decided to take a screenshot and sent it to Wanda.   "Wanda, I'm so confused. Which one should I pick?" You texted her. "What kind do you want? The purple one? Or the black and white one?"

Her response came swiftly. "Get both, also the lingerie. Oh, and make sure to get some lube, I need a lot for the toys," she texted back.

"Damn, Wanda, I didn’t know you were such a naughty girl," you mumbled to yourself, amused by her boldness.

"Ugh, gross, I’m going to need therapy after this," you quickly replied, feeling a mix of amusement and horror.

"And I need to bleach my eyes after seeing you two," she replied, her response laced with playful sarcasm.

You chuckled and continued browsing the website. "So much stuff. How can people use all these? Is this the kind of thing people use?" You whispered. You couldn't help but wonder which ones Bucky might enjoy.

There was this one that caught your attention. You clicked on the image, the vibrator popped open, and a description appeared. It was an eight-inch g-spot vibrator and anal vibrator with a remote control. It was a dual action toy that stimulated both the vagina and the anus.

'This 8 inch dual action toy is an ultra powerful vibrator that delivers powerful stimulation to both the vagina and the anus. The soft and silky material makes it a perfect beginner's toy, and its strong motor and wide bulbous tip makes it great for experienced users too.

With a curved end that will hit your g-spot and an insertable length of 8 inches, it's sure will give you a powerful sensation and will leave you screaming in pleasure. It also has a strong motor and 15 different speed and vibration patterns.

This toy is also waterproof, so you can enjoy it in the bath or the shower.'

Then you saw a video of a woman using it. The sounds were really loud and it sounded like it was being used for the first time. "How can she handle all that noise? It sounds like a jet taking off." You thought, watching the video.

Wanda's text jolted you back to reality. "Have you picked the items yet? I'm waiting," she inquired, her impatience coming through.

"Yeah, I already put them in the cart. I'm about to buy them."

"Okay, thank you! Good night!" she messaged, her excitement palpable.

"Good night," you responded.

Exhaustion began to weigh on you, your eyelids growing heavier by the moment. You were utterly spent, and as you settled into the comfort of your bed, sleep swiftly claimed you.

The next day, you woke up early, your throat was dry, scratchy, and sore. Part of it was Bucky's fault, he fucked your throat too rough hitting the back of your throat.

He's a beast.

You then recalled, ‘you loved choking on my cock huh?’ As Bucky's dirty words rang in your ear. You had to admit, that was the best blow job you've ever given. You didn't know why, but something about the fact that he was using your mouth for his own pleasure excited you. You found yourself wanting to please him.

"Fuck." You groaned, burying your face in the pillow, the darkness soothing your sore eyes.

You walked into the kitchen to get some water, you took the bottle of water from the fridge and drank it. You wondered if Bucky stayed to keep an eye on you and Wanda since now both of you were considered as a threat.

You still haven't discussed about what happened with Bucky. What's the relationship now? Were you just fuck buddies? Was that one-time thing? Or does he want more? Your heart raced at the thought of having more with him, you've never been in a relationship before, but with him? That sounds amazing.

After finishing your water and tossing the empty bottle into the trash, you decided to pay a visit to Bucky's room. However, when you arrived, you found his bed empty. Disappointment washed over you, and you wondered if he had been called away on a mission.

As you exited Bucky's room, you bumped into Wanda. "Morning, babe," she greeted you cheerfully.

"Hey, Wanda. Have you seen Bucky?" you inquired.

"Yeah, he's in the gym," she replied with a knowing smile.

"Great, thanks," you said, feeling a renewed sense of hope. You exchanged a few quick words with Wanda before she set off for the market to gather supplies for the day's meals, and you headed off to find Bucky. Wanda wished you luck before parting ways.

You went to the gym to see Bucky. When you reached there, the gym was empty, there was no one there.

“Bucky?” you called.

"Yeah?" His response came as he walked out, wearing only a towel. Despite the serious conversation on your mind, you couldn't help but steal a glance at the way his abs looked after the shower, water still dripping down his torso. "What's up? You good?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay.” You said, clearing your throat in an attempt to regain your composure. "Just wanted to talk."

"About?"

"Us," you said, meeting his eyes. "About what happened last night." He had an unreadable expression, the look on his face didn't make it seem like he was happy about this conversation.

Bucky let out a sigh, his face expressing a clear desire to avoid the topic. "Y/N, can we not? I'm not in the mood." He began putting on his clothes, his movements brisk and uneasy.  He clearly uncomfortable with the conversation at hand.  

But you couldn't let it go. The events of the previous night hung between you, an unspoken question begging for an answer. "No, Bucky, we can't just ignore it. I know things have been weird between us," you began, "What does it mean for us? I mean, is it going to happen again?"

He ran a hand through his damp hair, his jaw clenched. "Y/N, stop." He warned, his tone growing stern for you to drop the conversation.

You sighed, looking at him with sad eyes. "Why are you doing this? Why do you keep pushing me away?" You asked, your voice determined, refusing to let the matter rest.

"I don't want to talk about this." he hissed, his patience fraying as he continued to dress, his movements becoming more agitated. "I have important stuff to do right now, so no."

"I want to know why the fuck you're acting this way!" you snapped, getting frustrated with his behavior. "Stop being a dick and just tell me. Are we going to do this again or what? What does this mean for us, huh? Is it a one-time thing or something more?” you demanded, raising your voice.

"God damnit Y/N! Just fucking stop! What's wrong with you?!" He yelled, his frustration boiling over. "Just fucking leave.”

Your heart sank, but you refused to back down. "No, not until you explain what our relationship is now," you insisted, your voice steady, though your hands trembled with the intensity of your emotions.

His glare could have frozen hell over, his eyes radiating cold anger, "We are not in a relationship. We have nothing. Do you understand? Nothing." he stated bluntly, his gaze piercing through you as he threw his duffle bag to the floor in a fit of frustration, its contents spilling out.

The look in his eyes...there was no emotion there. Just the cold stare of someone who no longer cared, and it felt like a stab to the chest. "You want to talk? Fine. Let's fucking talk. We fucked, that's it. It was a fucking mistake.”

The impact of his words hit you like a bullet to the chest. You felt a lump form in your throat, choking back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "What…?" holding his glare as you tried to mask the hurt in your expression. This was worse than any outcomes you had ever imagined.

"A mistake, Y/N. I shouldn't have done that. It was a bad idea. It happened because I was stressed and needed to release some steam." His voice growing colder, "it was the only thing that got my mind off of everything.”

The finality of his words sinking in. “It was a fucking mistake. You happened to be there and I happened to be horny. We fucked. End of the story. Nothing else. Now fucking leave."

You had expected this to be just a one-time thing, and you thought you could handle that. But what he said was far worse, leaving you feeling utterly devastated, the weight of his rejection crushing you.

 "I just happened to be there for you to fuck? To release your steam? You think of me that way?" You asked him.

He remained silent, refusing to look at you, his gaze fixed on the floor. Why were you still standing here, allowing him to strip away your dignity? Yet, a part of you desperately clung to the hope for an answer.

Every word carved a deeper wound into your heart, yet you pressed on. "No, I need an answer," you insisted, your voice growing more desperate. "Was it just sex?”

He met your question with a nonchalant shrug, his indifference cutting deeper than any rejection. "That's all it was. Yes."

"So, it meant nothing, I'm just another girl you fucked?" you asked, the pain in your voice evident as you tried to make sense of his words.

He continued to re-packing his bags, "What more do you want me to say, Y/N?" he retorted, his anger rising once again. "That I made a mistake? That I fucked up? That I regret it? There, happy? Or do you want to hear me tell you that I used you?"

Your heart broke into a million pieces as the truth of his words struck you like a hammer to the chest. You had given your heart to him, only for him to break it. You couldn't speak, could barely breath.

"It meant nothing to me, Y/N," he continued, his voice filled with disgust. "It was a moment of weakness, and it should never have happened."

You wanted to scream, to lash out, to strike him, but instead, you stood there in silence, unable to move. Bucky's words were like daggers, piercing your heart, leaving a deep wound that would never heal. You felt numb, the pain and betrayal too much for your body and mind to handle. You knew that you would never be the same, that a part of you would always be broken.

"I thought we had a connection." You asked, your voice small, the tremor betraying your vulnerability.

His response, devoid of any sympathy or remorse, struck like a knife to your heart. "Well, you were fucking wrong. You're a fucking mistake, Y/N. You should have known better than to expect anything from me. Now get the fuck out of my sight."

The finality of his words was a slap to your face, the sting of his rejection leaving a deep, jagged scar across your heart. You would never forget his words, or the way he looked at you, his eyes filled with hatred and disdain.

You couldn't comprehend why he was acting like this. Was this the real him? He was cold, emotionless, completely different from the person you thought you knew in the gym, making you question whether the person who had shared that passionate moment with you was real.

You should've known better. You shouldn’t listen to Wanda on the first place, her suggestion was ridiculous and it led to this mess. Your heart was broken, the pain was unbearable. You were alone.

You had no one.

But the rawness of the rejection stung. It was time to leave, to salvage what remained of your wounded pride and self-respect.

"Fuck you, Barnes.”

"You already did, sweetheart.” You saw a slight smirk, “Unless you want more, I can give you that. You have a body to die for.”

Fed up with his disrespectful attitude, you turned to leave, your hand gripping the doorknob. However, something compelled you to turn back and confront him. As you faced him again, you noticed his gaze lingering on you, catching a flicker of something in his eyes, perhaps regret? But then, his expression hardened once more returned to its cold, distant state.

Summoning your strength, you said, "You really know how to hurt people, Barnes."

Bucky's response was laced with bitterness and self-awareness, acknowledging the pain he had caused, "I know, I'm a master of it." He said without looking at you with expression that you couldn't quite read, as if he wanted to say something more. Yet, he remained silent.

The room grew quiet, a heavy silence settling between the two of you, neither one willing to speak first. After what felt like an eternity, you averted your gaze, your eyes glistening with unshed tears, and whispered your farewell. "Goodbye, Barnes." With that, you turned on your heel and walked out, the door slamming shut behind you, the sound echoing the finality of the moment.

As you left the gym, your steps heavy and your heart heavier, the weight of the emotional wounds settled in. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you made your way back to your room. There, behind a locked door, you allowed your emotions to spill out. You collapsed onto the bed, your sobs echoing in the room. You didn't know how long you cried, but it was enough time for your head to hurt. You wiped your tears, feeling the exhaustion set in.

Bucky was mean, he was really mean. You thought he had changed but apparently not. Not anyone was capable of changing. As you cried, you made a silent promise to yourself: you wouldn't let him hurt you again.

E/N : I apologize for leaving you hanging with another cliffhanger, but I didn't want to make Part 2 too lengthy and risk boring you. I acknowledge it might not be as good as Part 1, and for that, I apologize. Rest assured, I'll make it worth the wait in Part 3 (I promise)! On a positive note, who's excited for the groveling trope? I certainly am! Get ready for some intense moments! intense moments ahead!

All the sub-plot with Wanda will start to make sense in Part 3 as it intertwines, and you can expect some moments of jealousy and possessiveness from Bucky as well.

Don't forget to show your support by leaving likes and comments; I'd love to hear your thoughts! 😊📚

Taglist:

@vicmc624 @am-3-thyst @barnesandsteven @naeenae @rainy-day-lady @nouk1998 @cl7ire @oneofthedyingpoets @dnovastark @waywardhunter95

If you want to be added/removed, just let me know!

[phecdasolar]

Tumblr I need your help I am in dire need of feral/unhinged Disaster Twins fics pleaseeee (and maybe Mikey as a bonus) I’m just in love with the idea of Raph being the impulse control for once with this iteration, and just the second he’s out of commission the other three go insane.

Weapons of War, Bioengineered Killing Machines, Manufactured Supersoldiers Rottmnt turtles my BELOVEDS

And maybe just like,,, set Leo and Donnie loose on one of the other dimensions and have them absolutely horrifically annihilate their counterparts’ villains while they watch on in horror

(B.E.A.S.T. was SUCH a good fic you guys oh my GOSH go read it I’m begging you-)

I NEED to have it addressed in fic form that the Rise turtles are fundamentally different than all their other counterparts, because their counterparts? They were accidents. Just a couple of turtles splashed with mutagen and oh look now they’re people but Green. (Huge oversimplification I’m aware but hear me out okay-)

But the Rise boys were created. They were specifically designed to be weapons of mass destruction. They were built with the intent to cause harm which means they were bioengineered to be stronger, smarter(?), faster, to heal quicker, to have the capacity to take hard hits while dishing out even harder ones, they were literally forged with a purpose to kill.

Add on their mystic powers? Then their unlocked Ninpo? You can’t honestly tell me that these four aren’t the strongest and potentially deadliest version of themselves out there.

Yes they still had to learn things, as did the other iterations, they weren’t immediately good (that much is obvious, like c’mon it’s IN the name) but I don’t think the other iterations possess the same instincts as these guys do. They’re just so. Unhinged. They’ve all had their moments in the show I think where it’s obvious they’re not really,,, stable. I love them.

In a plain fists only, maybe weapons, no powers fight, I do think some of the other iterations would win, but purely because they have way more experience than these guys do. (If I did any crossovers I’d say 2003 and 2012 are definitely older than these guys, especially if we’re basing this at the end of their shows) But put them against each other when they’re still at the same level? Rise is whooping butt, I know where I’m placing my bets. It’s called RISE of the TMNT for a reasonnnnnn they’re not there yet but they WILL BE, and as of the end of s2 and the movie I say they’re finally THERE.

I have no idea how this turned into a headcanon rant this was just supposed to be me asking for fic recs hsgdjdjdk it’s almost 3 am tho so whatever sorry if none or some of this is incoherent o7 o/

Editing this with a list of fics I have been graciously recommended below the cut:

Firefight by remrose [42/43 chapters 208k words] (edit: JUST FINISHED READING ch38-42 WATCH ME BAWL MY EYES OUT I was rotating them in my brain all morning at work) less on the feral side, more on the gut-wrenching angst side, still Disaster Twins and still super good

In Which Donnie and Leo Make Themselves Everyone Else's Problem in an NYC That Isn't Even Their Own by YukiSkyes [7/? chapters, 18k words] the CLASSIC “the Disaster Twins are unapologetically causing chaos” fic, always a delight to read

The Lemon Leak by TurtleSoupSwimmer [27/37 chapters, 143k words] I’m being told it’s very true to the theme here, and it’s very angsty, a suspenseful psychological thriller, and will make you scream at your phone. I for one am very intrigued

Eschatology by aenor_llelo, Alderous, ConcoctionsFromHell, izziel_galaxy, Jaybird314, Otakuforlife19, and Rocket999 [17/17 chapters, 344k words] “HEAVY on the boys being biologically engineered to destroy the world, it also delves into so much character building and worldbuilding that we never got in canon, and it gives even super minor characters the chance to shine” Sounds intriguing, AND it’s a BNHA crossover which I am a big fan of :D

The Hunter’s Bible also by TurtleSoupSwimmer [2/2 chapters, 15k words] Rated Mature, contains themes of SA and c@nnibalism so PLEASE keep that in mind!! Not a fic for the faint of heart this is a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat! The SA is only attempted, and never shown, only implied, and it’s only in ch 1, but the other stuff is fairly descriptive and takes place in ch 2. All that being said, flipping UNHINGED, just about lost my mind in ch 2, it was entertaining in a surreal kinda way if you get what I mean. Funky little feral creatures

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I thought I wasn't going to have strong opinions about the Laios-Shuro fight, but...

Laios was right about this! Yes, they had 2 physical fights first, but it's important to note that Laios was right about this!

.

^ -man who would literally kill to stay in this room and observe this private conversation.

.

Sir, your unfaltering little wide-eyed, amiable smile while seriously considering topics that are obviously un-smile-worth has charmed me utterly. I wish to study you like an climate-entomologist yearns for the butterfly that causes storms.

.

She seems fine.

.

If I start screencapping Laios's and Marcille's faces in this fight, I will never stop because literally every panel is devasting.

.

Kuro has done distinctly the most damage so far this fight, just stabbing and gnawing, and I think we should recognize and appreciate that fact.

.

I really miss the animation we got of Rin's lightning blast slicing narrowly past Laios.

I love how fast, if reluctantly, Laios accepts that if - not, that Falin is a true "monster", inhuman and hurting people relentlessly and unapologetically, and thus she needs to be killed before she kills them, like any other monster. I also love that Marcille doesn't accept this. Characters!

.

+1 to qualification to kingship! Kabru is one again surprised (you can tell by how he's not smiling) (though this might also be due to the significant injuries he just took).

I do have several emotions about how Falin immediately yanks away and kills Kabru, without touching Laios. That's her brother!!

.

I really like this little cluster because it says to me that Shuro still has very good "do what Marcille says when she abruptly shouts magic-related directions in combat" instincts. He's a mirror of the "You're already on the Christmas card, buddy" meme - more like, "You're still on the Christmas card." Just like Namari: no one really stops being fond of, and battle companions with, these weirdos.

.

I think the most painful part of this probably is that Marcille isn't certain. Maybe this IS her fault. At minimum, she knows she might have mixed the dragon's soul into Falin's, which enabled this even if it didn't create it. But she can't 100% rule out the possibility that it's more her fault than that - which is, of course, the absolute worst thing to say to all of these people looking at her violently askance for using dark magic.

.

yeahhhhhh "Lunatic Magician" REALLY lacks the oomph of "Mad Mage"

ANGRY LAIOS! It's such a rare expression on him, it's exciting to see.

.

Yesss look at my man Chilchuck use available tools in his environment and save this little goober who thinks it's cool to resent adults.

I really like how they show the social consequences of dark magic. Much beyond Shuro's anger: the other mages are now shutting Marcille down, especially where resurrection magic is concerned. She's made herself untrusted by her peers, whether or not the magic she used on Falin is truly "evil."

.

I really enjoy the, like, narratively obligatory, not actually real (well, maybe to Rin) "will they-won't they" between Kabru and Rin. In the story that this isn't, where Kabru is the protagonist with his quirky gang of found family who are helping him save the island and prevent another bloodbath like in his angsty backstory, she IS the One (Human) Female on the Team who is obviously his love interest - often the first to challenge him, battle mage rather than healer ie a Strong Female Character who nonetheless doesn't use unfeminine brute force, forced by happenstance to kiss...

Alas! Kabru is not the protagonist of this story, so Rin shall remain disappointed.

Also this montage of people healing and reuniting while in the background Laios and Shuro whale on each other remains SO funny. Flawless comedic timing.

.

Alright, hot take time: I feel like all the debate I've seen about the Shuro/Laios fight depict it as revealing the friendship basically shattered, and never real in the first place. Whereas I'm mostly warmed by how real it clearly was despite everything that just happened?

Shuro is operating on no food and less sleep, desperate to save the woman he idolizes without truly understanding her loves, who is now apparently a monster who nearly slaughtered his most loyal followers. In the past like 2 weeks, Laios has: watched his sister die to save his life (his little sister, whom he is supposed to protect), walked headfirst into a nigh-unwinnable fight to get her back, held her skull in his hands, got her back and held her in his arms, lost her again about 6 hours later in an even more unwinnable fight, which was proven even more unwinnable when the Mage twisted the dungeon itself against them, saw her again but as a murderous monster now (which might be due to the magic he agreed to use to resurrect her), swiftly and sternly resigned himself to fighting and potentially killing her (his little sister! whom he is supposed to protect!), had her recognize him (and no one else!) despite her monstrosity, watched her be killed (again!) in part thanks to him distracting her, except it didn't work and then she fled.

This is an immature, ignoring-immediate-needs (ie, food, healing) knock-down drag-out fight between two men at the absolute ends of their ropes, who, sure, have built-up resentments against each other and the world, and an inciting incident pushing them over the edge - but mostly neither of them can punch in the face the fact that they can't save Falin. So they punch each other instead.

I won't even address the prologue to the fight, where Laios tells him about the black magic and Shuro promptly tries to strangle him then levels a sword at him. Kabru already nailed that: Shuro was worried about Falin - that the magic had hurt her, that the social consequences would be worse. Laios knew this enough that he didn't fight back, then. But now?

The first shove is Shuro demanding, Don't you fucking DARE give me false hope.

I cannot emphasize enough how hard I would also slap someone for suggesting that I wasn't taking the death and monsterization of my younger sibling seriously.

Shuro knows it, too. He doesn't respond to this, he just punches, and Laios punches back. Shuro doesn't speak again until Laios knocks him all the way down, and

Shuro is at his absolute depth. The lowest point he (feels that he) can go. He cannot save Falin. He's shamed himself as a leader and heir by getting his people killed (they got better, but that's beside the point.) He's been beaten in hand-to-hand combat by this idiot northern peasant. He lets down his guard and pride enough to mutter this self-deprecation aloud...and the idiot northern peasant hears, compounding every shame - and it's infuriating especially because he doesn't even hear properly, just like he never hears properly - he's so frustrating in his friendly but oblivious constant irritation and THIS, Shuro can still be furious about, to avoid his grief/hopelessness/self-loathing/shame. This, he can still fight about!

So he does.

They're both wrong in this fight. They're both right. Laios was consistently inconsiderate; knowing this about himself - because it's not like by his early 20s he didn't know that he didn't Get people the way most people Get people - he should've made more of an effort, and picked up any of the hints Shuro was laying down. Shuro was too caught up in his own pride and out-of-place manners: when it was clear that Laios wasn't going to pick up on even the strongest "hint", he should've said something plainly instead of just letting his resentment build until he was effectively lying to Laios about, if not their entire friendship, certainly the shape of it.

But they were friends. They are friends. This isn't the posture or conversation of two guys who don't like each other.

It's two guys who are still, in fact, fucking exhausted, physically and emotionally - but they just got rid of a lot of extra, furious, helpless energy, so they're finally satisfied to just sit. Their posture is relaxed and casual; their conversation straightforward and companionable, if serious.

This is two guys who've sat like this many time at a campfire, in just these poses. Who've kept watch together late at night and stayed awake by talking.

Laios cares about Falin more than anyone in the world, and even after the words and blows they just exchanged, he's still willing to put Shuro's suit to her. Shuro didn't tell Falin he was interested in her until he proposed to her, but he's telling it all to Laios. Admittedly, this is because Laios is, Shuro assumes, the closest he'll ever get to being able to tell it all to Falin...but still. And he admits vulnerability, which he clearly wouldn't have done before, even to his most loyal and loved companions as they urged him to eat and sleep.

Yeah, they're buddies. If I had to describe it, I'd say: their relationship was built on unsteady, false foundations, but they built something sturdy on it anyway, and the sturdy thing survives even when the foundations shake and re-settle.

Lol at Shuro. "I'm going to report you to the local authorities for your crimes because it's the right thing to do. But if you survive, I'll totally use my power and influence to help you flee the country, and live peacefully on my estate beyond where an extradition treaty can reach you."

[predestinatos]

love me down? — CL16 𓍢ִ໋ ᰔᩚ

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: it's time to confront feelings over mcdonald's and a beach view

word count: 4k

tags: a bit angsty not gonna lie, vulnerable!charles is so interesting to write, finally they get it together (kind of), smut at the end - absolutely filthy btw.

minors dni ──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !! warnings & note underneath

note: so so sorry for the delay in updates! i've been busy on my dissertation, staying home alone for a few days and traveling along with writing some articles for my uni newspaper so things have been crazy here. but i appreciate all the support and patience.

warnings: rough sex, kitchen sex, spit is involved, charles is very... domineering

“Thank you” you smiled softly to the girl handing you the McDonald’s bag and the two big cups of coke, which you promptly asked for Charles to hold as you proceeded to drive away.

Your hands gripped the stirring wheel as you drove – upon Charles’ insistence that he wanted to see you doing it, and also because it would raise less suspicion and attention if you both did so. The night was calm and slightly warm, allowing for the windows to be opened and the breeze ran through your hair wildly.

You felt his gaze on you, noticing how he stared unapologetically at you from the corner of your eye, a warm smile plastered across his face, his eyes half open – details that you didn’t notice but knew, out of the sheer amount of time you were now spending together, his expressions becoming familiar and recognizable, like a painting you hang on your bedroom and see every morning when you wake up.

“Stop staring, it distracts me,” you said jokingly, your shoulders tensing as you smiled shyly and tried to fix your hair with one hand, the other remaining on the wheel. “Now you know how I feel” he replied, popping a French fry in his mouth.

You allowed yourself half a second to look at him with confusion, your eyebrows furrowed as you moved your head questioningly. “What do you mean?” you asked, as you opened your hand towards him and demanded for him to give you a french fry.

“I mean when we all hang out and you sit at the back of my car and all I can see is you from the rearview mirror” he replied, his arms stretching towards your mouth instead of your hand, placing the food in it carefully. You knew the order of these actions was deliberate – first he admitted to something, then he would shush you somehow, as if to let that admission disappear or go unnoticed, or for him to think of something to say that would somehow lessen it.

The cold tone of his eyes remained on you, however, letting silence fill the car, as you noticed you hadn’t put music on, relying on each other’s voices and company instead. With your mouth still half full, you kept questioning his attentive gaze: “we haven’t all hung out in your car in ages, though.” You swallow, hoping he understood what you said between chewing and speaking.

Charles laughed softly, both at your statement and at your attempt to multitask, which he tried to unconsciously replicate by removing the Coca-Cola cup from the bag without taking his eyes off of you. “I know,” he realized that was all he could say, and that it was enough for you to understand its underlying meaning.

You were now arriving at an empty beachside, one which both of you knew because that was where you spent your teenage years amongst the people you loved. “I thought you hated me though,” you said, more seriously than you intended, your hand on the gearstick as you moved it to reverse. He shrugged as he took his seatbelt off, placing one leg under the other one, his sweatpants revealing a comfort he had acquired with you over the past months. “I thought so too,” he replied, chuckling.

You turned the car off but didn’t find his tale all that amusing, how both your and his feelings were now drifting unknowingly and dissolving, getting harder to recognize and pinpoint.

Noticing your discomfort, Charles’ hand once again went through his hair, nervousness hard to disguise, his dark brown locks suddenly in a desperate need to be fixed. You grabbed your order from the bag placed upon his lap, unthinkingly. Months prior, just the idea of being in a car with him seemed ridiculously unrealistic, and now touching him was voluntary and thoughtless, which highlighted the contrast of your words.

“I’ve always found you attractive” his voice interrupted, as he took a bite of his cheeseburger. You reflected his movements, but looking at him, eyebrows raised and interest spiking. The short seconds he took to chew and swallow seemed like an eternity, the urge to hear him continue almost as big as his urge to keep talking. “Even when you annoyed the shit out of me” he laughed shortly, and this time you did too, your head rising towards the ceiling of the car. “It’s true! It just made you even more insufferable” he repeated, his free hand adjusting a lock of your hair behind you ear in caring amusement.

Your eyes met his as you took a sip of your drink, interrupting him before he went on a full monologue. “Thank you for the flattering confession,” you joked back, mimicking him by putting a lock of his hair behind his ear – an almost impossible task. “Come on, I knew you felt attraction towards me as well,” he tilted his head and leaned back, arms crossed smugly, trying to hide the slightly damaged ego. “You were alright,” your answer made him bring his hand to his chest dramatically, a comical expression screaming ‘how dare you’ in sheer playfulness.

“Grumpy men aren’t my type” you continued, placing a French fry in your mouth with feigned innocence. “Bratty girls aren’t mine either yet here we are” Charles replied, a soft gleam in his eyes as he looked at you, the breeze entering the car through the open window and touching his hair softly, daring to caress him when you couldn’t, wouldn’t.

Here we are. That sentence reverberated through your body like an enigma you couldn’t solve. Where exactly were you two? In a limbo of unspoken feelings and mere subtle hints of tenderness, an unbreakable vow of secrecy that can only be expressed through metaphors? In a car, desperate to feel each other’s devoted affection, yet refraining to do so, like a painting in a museum you can’t get too close to?

Charles knew he had said the wrong thing, or at least not the good enough thing for the moment. This back and forth used to be amusing and entertaining when nothing was at stake. But now it seems like both of you had gambled too much, and the few chips you had were holding you together at a table where whatever happened could not be seen as a victory.

He said the only thing that came to his mind at that moment. An earnest and genuine “I’m sorry” left his lips as he looked outside the window. You let out a breath, accepting the apology despite the fact that you didn’t quite know the reason for it. Was he apologizing for the comment that ignited this tension? For letting things spiral to this in the first place? You weren’t sure he knew it either, yet you knew he meant it enough for you to not hold it against him.

But maybe it was your turn to get into his head, as selfish as this sounded. You didn’t hold it against him but that didn’t mean you didn’t have half thoughts and half feelings to let out. “It was hard not being bratty with you,” you heard yourself say, as his head turned towards you. You forced yourself to hold his gaze, despite the fact that you felt heat rushing to your cheeks as you spoke. “You got under my skin like no one else. Still do,” you bit your lip, holding back a smile that threatened to creep up on your face. It was hard to hide your amusement at his own bewildered look, incredulous at what you had said could imply.

“You don’t know how many times I wanted to be alone with you” his voice, almost a whisper, traveled through the car along with the nightly air and the soft waves crashing far away. You swallowed dryly, despite the cold cup resting between your legs and the comfort it could’ve provided you in a time like this.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, curiosity, or maybe sheer tension, filling your body as you felt him getting closer to you, closing the gap between both of your seats. “I did, eventually,” his breath hit your neck, his knowledge of this particular weakness of yours making you even weaker, realizing you gave him the power to get to you like this. His chuckle filled your ears and sent goosebumps throughout your body like an orchestra of sensations. “And it’s not like you made it particularly easy for me,” he continued, kissing your neck lightly enough to make your body shiver, his hand now resting on your leg and caressing it with sensuous ease.

“Really?” you played along, irony lacing your lips the way you both liked to play. “How come?” your voice broke upon the sentence as his murmur of affirmation to your question mixed with his kisses down your neck and his now tightened grip on your leg blurred your senses.

Before he could properly reply, your phone vibrated in your pocket, disrupting the tension building up between you two. You cursed under your breath as you pulled it out, reading the name on the screen and locking it again, deciding to reply later. “It’s my sister,” you say, even though you knew you needn’t justify yourself. Nevertheless, you did. You hoped he’d do the same in his own case.

“Oh, is everything alright? She’s in Austria, right?” he asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. You nodded in response. “Yeah, she’s alright. It’s a drunk selfie, I’ll text her later,” you laughed as you continued, your drink finishing just like his. He laughed, more to himself than to you, as he shook his head negatively. “That’s brave for a Linguistics student” he joked.

His words made you realize something, which you couldn’t help but point out to him, question him about. “How do you know those things? About my sister, I mean” you clarified, your eyes interlocked with his. “You’ve mentioned it sometimes when we all hung out,” he shrugged, the answer seeming so simple and uncomplicated, almost making you feel ridiculous for asking. Yet you stood, motionless. “I may seem annoyed, but I am listening, you know.”

You felt your body freeze at his words, a realization of something you had never considered before. Because it’s not only that he was listening; he remembered. Things you didn’t particularly say to him – in fact, you ignored him most times, only using the basic politeness when strictly necessary – were engraved in his mind when they did not have to be. They could’ve been mere writings on sand for him, ones which the sea would wash away carelessly, yet they weren’t.

And suddenly, you were tired. Of the breeze, of the jokes, of the hiding, of the unknown. Of crying, of laughing, of shrugging it off and trying not to think about it. Of the lack of answers, of the increasingly infinite number of questions. You’ve felt sadness, but now it was time for anger – unfortunately, you did not know whom to aim it at. To him? For not being able to admit the very same thing you couldn’t admit either? To yourself? For protecting your emotions from the person who has shown in the past his inconsistencies, his lack of commitment and emotional availability?

He felt it then. He did not know how or why – whether your breath give it away, how you blinked more rapidly than usual and your eyelashes seemed to bat away the painful realization – but he felt that if he did not do something, say something, before you did, all this would end. And in those brief seconds everything flashed before him: the endless amount of decisions and routes that he could take here, how it would be easy in the short term to accept what you had to say and let you drive him home, drink it away, fuck it away, text someone else, kiss someone else. But the long term painful knowledge of feeling your skin on his when he wakes up at 4am in your room, to witness your eyerolls when he jokes around, to witness your existence quietly – that suddenly felt unbearable.

Your fists were clenched in repressed anger, so were his, though the reasons differed – but the source of them didn’t. It had now become a race against time, daring each other to speak, to do something before the other did, scared of the words that might come out each other’s mouths.

You beat him to it – maybe the only game where you actually won, yet a victory that tasted as a loss, where the podium took more from you than it gave, no morning glory or praise in your eyes or his. “I don’t think I can keep doing this” was all you said as you forced yourself to look into Charles’ eyes, notice how you could tell something in him shifted despite his lack of movement. Despite the fact that he had seen in it coming, he couldn’t help but feel a sharpness in his chest that threatened to break his whole body apart from the inside out. He had nothing to lose anymore, and knowing this, he knew he had to at least put up a fight with himself.

“It’s a shame because I think I’m starting to get feelings for you,” he tried to act natural, almost slightly careless but it did not work, not when your eyes stared deeply into his, confusion written all over them. “I mean I can’t get you off my mind. These hang outs we have are all that I look forward to. I mean that I wish I could just tell you how much I crave your presence at every moment. That part of me feels such anger towards you precisely because you make me feel weak. I hate myself for feeling these things almost as much as I do for not expressing them to you earlier. And I care. I care so much I wish I could be brave enough to ask you to text me when you get home, when you wake up, when you go out. I want to talk to you or stay in silence or eat or do anything, I don’t fucking know what I’m saying but I want this to keep going and I am so fucking selfish for it, I know I am.”

Charles bit his lip, out of nervousness, anger, or sadness – neither of you quite knew. All you knew was that the words that came out of his mouth could never be unsaid, that whatever happened after this could never repair whatever dynamic you two had, and even though you both knew that the first time he stayed after your party, it was now a reality you had to confront.

“Don’t do this to me, Charles” you begged, your voice breaking slightly as it whispered his name, the taste of it so different from before, so foreign it seemed like you were calling someone else. “It’s really fucking mean of you to do this,” you continued, as your hand flew to the car key and started it, your intention to leave the conversation in the sand, let it be consumed by the sea, erased, cleaned.

You drove and drove, although you felt like the car was operating itself, your mind not as much on the way to Charles’ place but more on retracing the steps that brough you two here. He didn’t highlight his presence either. Both of you felt so insanely alone in that car it was almost maddening, a solitary confinement worse than any other punishment: being alone together.

And so when your car came to a halt in the parking lot and you inhaled deeply, accepting the fact that this was probably the last time you would ever have him like this, considering what you’d do differently had you known that when you woke up, he tried one last time.

His hand was so close to opening the door but refused to do so before both his body and his mind had the answer to the question that would solve it all. Every single one of his next movements would depend on how you replied, and he was, not for the first time, immediately aware of your control over him. “Knowing all this, knowing it would come to this in the end- would you have kicked me out of your apartment that night?”

For some inexplicable reason, you did not hesitate then. Your head moved, so slightly it could go unnoticed, in a nod. Then, as if you were watching your own self from afar, you nodded once more, clearly, affirmatively, and confidently, despite your runny nose and teary eyes. You adjusted your hair once again, the mess a reflection of your own thoughts and his – tangled and complicated.

Yet, your reply triggered all of Charles’ courage, made his words come out strong and reassuring at the same time, as he tried, not desperately but incessantly, to make you see what he couldn’t show. “Then why can’t we keep going? You want me to show you I need you, here I am. I need you. I need this, and this might be the most vulnerable I can be with you right now but I am trying. I’ll say it as many times as you want and I’ll leave if you want me to because that’s how much I need you. I need you so much I’m willing to let you go if that’s what you want.”

His reply made you feel your own heart speeding, its pace matching his, though you were both unaware of it. Your hands were shaking at the same rhythm as his hands, the ones that were now opening the door in defeat, but that were stopped by you gripping his arm, feeling him finally, pleading him to stay. He barely had the time to close the door again, leaving it ajar as he turned to you and felt your lips on his, soft and needy and begging for him to stay. He deepened the kiss hungrily, his teeth biting your bottom lip in confirmation of his presence before you.

Remembering where you two were, you pulled away, looking at his unusual post kiss expression. Although the red lips and blissed eyes remained, he was serious, rather than smug, questioning if this was a last goodbye or a beginning. You smiled to yourself at that, his innocent look when he lost control of a situation giving away his honesty.

The atmosphere was still tense despite the fact that the air had been cleared out by his words and the tears washed away by the foggy windows, yet you couldn’t help but bite your lip, holding back a laugh as you said, “so does this mean I have to cancel things with Oscar?”

Charles’ soft giggle and playful “fuck off” made you feel at home more than ever, as you knew now that he was comfortable with you holding that door. And as he stepped out of your car, he leaned down and popped his head in once again, teasingly asking you “want to come inside so I can answer that for you?” – to which you merely smirked as you removed your seatbelt.

As soon as the elevator doors closed and until you made all the way to the 16th floor Charles’ hands were on your waist, your legs, your chest, and everywhere possible, as he tried feeling all of you at once, greedily caressing your skin. You needed him just as much, your own arms around his neck as your hands pulled his soft hair, sometimes with enough strength his groan was audible, but so addictive you couldn’t get enough of it.

The elevator doors opened and somehow you made it into his apartment, not registering any inch of it – you had grown to know it all too well to have to look around for the last few months. With your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands holding you by your thighs, he took you to the closest spot he could find and placed you there, your ass suddenly feeling the cold surface underneath. Sitting on his marble kitchen counter, you watch as his attitude shifted back to the cocky and possessive one you knew so well. Charles didn’t hesitate to take his shirt off, followed by his sweatpants, which revealed everything already. However, the sight of his naked body between your legs drove you insane, your head spinning with the heat of desire. Completely naked, yet standing above you, his voice, so distinct from the soft and vulnerable from before, demanded: “take your clothes off”

You complied, never breaking eye contact as he fisted his own cock, its length making your mouth water and your entrance embarrassingly wet, yet that embarrassment quickly faded as his gaze lowered towards it, dark lust spreading across his eyes. Unapologetically, he eyes you up and down, eyes resting on your breasts, your nipples hard, your whole body giving away how delirious with desire you felt.

“God your body is insane” he started, his hand still on his erection, moving frantically and out of pace, trying to replicate the feeling of being inside you, yet unsuccessfully. You dropped your shy attitude, replacing it instead with a newly found confidence highlighted by the confirmation of his primal desires.

“Quit jerking yourself off and fuck me, Charles” your voice sounded aggressive and soft at the same time, and caught him so off guard you saw his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let out a ravenous growl.

Without warning, he pushed himself into you, burying his length deep inside your cunt, your wetness allowing him to move perfectly. “Fuck it’s like you were made for me” his voice, now much deeper, erupted against your neck, his face buried in it as one hand held on to your thigh tightly, and your pain was nothing when compared to how full he made you feel, how your whole body responded to him with absolute pleasure. “You were made for me, weren’t you?” he asked, pulling away from you to grip your face in his hand, a gesture so possessive and animalistic it made your eyes water in a haze. You tried nodding, although it was hard given how strong his grip was, how out of control and light-headed you felt, making it impossible for you to speak either.

His thrusts continued, aggressive and ravenous, as he unleashed all of his cravings on you. “Open your mouth” he ordered between breathy growls that pushed you over the edge. You obeyed, mouth open and tongue out as you looked at him in the eyes, some of his hair stuck to his forehead from sweat, his muscles tense and his body a complete masterpiece as it moved inside you. You knew what he was going to do, yet it still took you by sheer surprise, a cry leaving your lips as he spat directly towards your mouth, pulling your hair back to be able to look at you clearly.

You couldn’t even imagine the wreck you now looked like before him – completely blissed out and lustful, desperate for release. “All mine, f-fuck” you heard him say, despite the fact that you could barely think or even see, the sensations all mingled as one as you carved your nails in his toned arms.

“You’re mine, Charles” you tried finding your assertive voice, remind him he wasn’t the only one in charge, that you too had an upper hand in this. “All fucking m-mine, just like you want” you cried out as you felt him exploding inside you whilst your name left his lips.

The feeling of him coming and filling you was enough for you to come as well, your body shaking around his as he remained inside you, letting you keep every part of him.

As you stilled your breaths, his lips dropped a soft kiss on your forehead and his hand caressed your cheek. The change caused you to giggle, your brain still foggy from the intensity of the session you just had. “Let’s take a shower. Together” you finally said, allowing him to know that everything he had said was as reciprocate as he desired.

You two didn’t have a name or definition yet, but for now, the mutual need for each other’s presence was enough.

@buendiabebeta @janeholt3 @ruleroftheuniverse @trentsgirl @teenagedreams-cl @cmleitora @marialovesf1 @champagneholland

[just-zy]

So close yet so far

pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader!

summary: More than friends, less than lovers.

A/N: lemme tell you, what a wayy to start this freaking imagine..Also this is an au wherein Jenna and Reader are in hs..

Warnings!: Shi angsty, kissy kiss kiss 😋 Jenna's a player here.. 😞

Masterlist

You didn't know if you'd won the lottery, considering you had a pretty girls tongue down your fucking throat, her hands roaming your skin, raw. Her soft grunts, and light tugging on the hem of your shirt while her right arm laid perfectly limp on your right shoulder, making your knees buckle, her touch alone could send you to heaven's gates and make you see galaxies.

I felt my throat let out an unapologetic whine, indicating that I needed to pull away for air. Gosh, I didn't want this to end. I was intoxicated by the girl in front of me.

"What's wrong, pretty girl?" The girl above me pants for air, asking with smugness lasing on her voice, clearly she didn't care about having a breather.

"W- we have class in a few minutes, Jenna." I say with a firm look in my eyes, but she wasn't having it.

"You're saying that like you weren't the one who initiated this, baby.." She batted her eyelashes, looking right down at me. "So, be a good girl and relax..We still have a few minutes." She says right before jumping right back into action, her soft plump lips gazing on mine like a lost puzzle piece.

She's gonna be the death of me.

...

"Hey gurrl– oh, what happened to your lips? It's bleeding!"

Yep, she started nipping at my lips when she felt me resisting her kisses.

"I— uhm, well I.. Fuck that, can we please not talk about this right now?" Dismissing her. I hear her lightheartedly scoff, she knew I wasn't being mean. Zoe and I had been friends for about a decade, so it wasn't a problem for her and for me when we give each other attitude.

"Alright dude chill, someone clearly pissed in your coffee today." She teasingly taunts me whilst she held her pen between her index and middle finger, acting like she was poking me with the object. She had her eyebrows raised, indicating that she knew what had happened with my wounded lip.

Of course she knew about me and Jenna's situation, it was never a secret to my Best Friend.

"You know, you might end up regretting agreeing to Jenna about being friends with benefits.."

I regret staring directly at her ever since I saw her walking down that flight of stairs, gosh who would've thought love at first sight existed?

"Nevermind that— oh shit-" Zoe stares right behind me, her mouth agaped and wide-eyed. "Fuck– don't look!"

I skeptically chuckled as she began taking my hand with hers, implying we had to leave immediately. Obviously I wasn't backing down as I was curious on what had gotten her into such a state. "Don't look, stupid!"

Welp, I wish I hadn't, God forbid I don't die now.

There she was, in her black leather jacket, someone else's fingers tangled in her hair, her lips grazing someone else's. Her burgundy lipstick, staining their hungry lips.

Fuck.

"Okay! Let's go! Let's move it."

"Y- yeah.."

I was so close, yet so far.

★

"Hey there, pretty girl."

"Hi, Jenna."

I shrugged as I was sat under the biggest tree in the campus. Its shade hiding me from the sunlight. It's been what, at least two days since me and Jenna's intimate act were established. Missing her was an understatement, but having to go back to her knowing she had someone else's tongue down her throat? That'll just feel so wrong for me, considering I couldn't get the image out of my head.

"So, you haven't been calling, what's up with that?" I see her lightly tilt her head to her right. I took a deep breath and glanced up at her, not really in the mood for her intimate acts. "Homework, Jenna. At least make sure you aren't failing your classes."

She scoffs, "What's with the attitude? Why so feisty. Was it because I had you running late for class?"

I averted my attention away from her, my heart doing flips. Uncomfortable. Flips.

"I– No, it's not that-"

"Then what? Talk to me– wait, did you..?" I felt the atmosphere change dramatically, I see Jenna moving her lips, she can't seem to get her words out. "Look, it's not really a surprise that I fell for you–"

"You said– you.. You weren't going to fall for me- Y/N you know I'm not the type to—"

"Yes! Gosh, Jenna. I know! Do you think I chose this? Do you think I chose to fall for a player?!" I stood up, having all my attention on Jenna, alone. "Then why the fuck did you agree to this anyway when you knew the outcome?!" Every word that got out of her mouth, every stab of her index finger on my chest, every impact it did on my clothed skin, felt like a knife stabbing right through my already broken heart.

"Well— Fuck! I don't know! I wanted to be closer to you, that was the only way to get your attention." I heaved and coughed as tears threatened to fall. I grew limp, I stood on my ground, not moving.

I am fucked.

I was on autopilot, I took all my shit and hastily went back inside school. Timing wasn't on my side, I still have a few classes.

Time never favoured me, anyway.

★

A/N: what do you guys think? This has been on my drafts for sooo longgg and I wanted to finish it, I can smell it rotting.. Kinda dislike this.

[but-a-humble-goon]

All those people who say "we don't have enough role models of positive masculinity" my dudes do you just not know of Kazuma Kiryu? He's the single manliest character in all of mandom. He is the epitome of man. He literally punches tigers and deflects sword blows with his pectorals. The most hardened killers in the world tremble at the mere mention of his name.

He's also just the dudest dude. He's respectful, empathetic, shockingly open minded, good natured and great with kids. He's self admittedly shy and awkward around women but at the same time no woman could ever make the mistake of finding him threatening. He's not exactly the most open with his emotions but he's also clearly not averse to them either, in fact he's an extremely passionate and often quite vulnerable man. He's allowed to smile and laugh and cry and despair and run the full gamut of angsty J-drama goodness without it ever being implied to somehow make him less masculine. Also, and this is most important, he's a giant god damn DORK.

Kiryu's a man who gives everything from baseball to disco dancing his 110% at all times and is never afraid to make an absolute fool of himself. There is not a self conscious bone in his entire body. Were we all only so bold as to be as unapologetically true to ourselves as this great big beautiful doofus of a man.

[venussaidso]

ᵀʰᵉ ⁽ᶠᵉʷ⁾ ᴷᵉᵗᵘ ᵂᵒᵐᵉⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᴹᵃʳᵛᵉˡ ᵁⁿⁱᵛᵉʳˢᵉ

Negasonic Teenage Warhead and Lorna Dane are played by Ketu-ruled Moon natives. Both represent the young, rebellious, intense and angsty archetype.

Jessica Jones and Valkyrie are both played by Magha Moon natives. They use heavy drinking as a coping mechanism; both have gritty personalities and portray the cynic with a moral compass and complexity to them. Falling into the reluctant hero archetype.

Darcy Lewis and Vanessa Carlysle are a pair played by Magha Moon natives. They rely on humour and intelligence rather than superpowers or force. Both embody the witty, warm, down-to-earth personality.

Illyana Rasputin and Lorna Dane are played by Ashwini natives. Both possess a fierce, raw intensity; known for their chaotic, short-tempered personalities onscreen and bottled up trauma. Both equally volatile, unpredictable and ready to fight anyone. They also have magical powers.

Elektra and Lorna Dane are played by Ashwini natives. They have very intense personalities, with a fierce independence and commitment to the cause they believe in. They operate in moral gray areas. Their intensity and determination functioning to the point of recklessness.

Agatha Harkness is played by an Ashwini Moon native, standing on her own as she is unapologetically the most calculating, manipulative and power-driven of them all. Her playful, theatrical demeanour and lighthearted exterior concealing a very strategic and menacing core. She embraces her dark side with no hesitation.

[teyums]

His Secret Admirer (Part Three) - Neteyam x fem na’vi reader

part one | part two | part four | bonus chapter

wc: 4.3k

a/n: here is the well awaited pt 3, I didn’t know it could get more angst-y than it already has but boy I was wrong. the next part will be the final part to the series, prepare for sh!t to go down y’allll 😗

contains: soft + angsty neteyam, lots of emotions so buckle up fr, some language (not much at all), familial conflict

“~~” resembles a time skip or a POV change

Neteyam rarely got angry. But after witnessing Eyiti purposely say what she did to hurt your feelings, he felt anger bubble deep in the pit of his stomach. He so badly wanted to chase after you as he watched you walk away, but he couldn’t risk having her run to tell her parents that the olo’eyktan’s son had disrespected her. This was what he faced on the daily, people holding his future over his head with no regard of how high he had to jump just to get it back. He was trying his hardest to keep his parents in a good mood, so when he would tell them about you they would be less inclined to deny his pleas and actually hear him out. If he went after you, it would squash all of his hopes of ever being yours. He whipped his head around to face the unapologetic girl in front of him, not being able to conceal his repugnance.

“Why did you do that?” He spoke through gritted teeth, jerking his arm away to remove her grimy mitt from his skin. “I did not promise you anything. My parents do not speak for me.” He brushed his arm, trying to expunge the feeling of her touch.

“Oh, but I think they do ‘Teyam.” She cooed with a pout that was far from genuine to shield the smug that lied behind her lips. “They said you’d talk to my parents, so that’s what you’re going to do. Unless, you want me to go and tell my father about your little girlfriend. And now that I think about it, I don’t even think I heard your parents mention her. Is that allowed?” She already knew the answer, her question was only a threat.

Everything began to add up in his mind. Why her behavior would change so suddenly- trying her hardest to gain his attention conveniently at the time you would come around. He had never once felt the urge to injure a woman, and he still didn’t, but he was definitely tempted to tag Kiri in on this conversation and support whatever method of action she chose to take.

He wished he could have told you in that moment that being her date was never his idea. But he was just as stunned, it hadn’t even been brought up to him before Eyiti revealed the information in front of the two of you. There his parents went again, making decisions for him knowing he would have no choice but to follow through. His heart felt like it had been stomped on, even more so at the thought of how badly you were hurting right now. He had no intention of leading you on, and you probably hated him for doing just that, even if it were accidental. In fact, he planned on agreeing to the Ikran ride, taking the two of you somewhere you wouldn’t be disturbed and asking you to be his date to the festival. But everything went to shit, like usual.

He exhaled sharply, biting his tongue to keep himself from saying anything that would have this brat running to make his life more of a living hell than it was already becoming. He dodged Eyiti’s attempt at grabbing his hand to lead him along, shooting her a piercing glare. If looks could kill, the village would be planning her funeral right about now. “I can walk just fine on my own. And stop calling me that.”

He entered her family’s home with as much respect as he could muster, grudgingly taking a seat once realizing his parents had already arrived. There was nothing he could do to stall this any longer. He kept his stare avoidant, anything to distract him from the conversation at hand. There was a drastic amount of space between him and Eyiti on the mat, which Jake had not failed to realize. The voices around him sounded like they were underwater as he tuned them out. He toyed with the intricate details on his armband while they spoke, all he could think about was how this was the last place he wanted to be. His mind was anywhere else but here. The image of you talking with Ta’olu reappeared in his mind like clockwork, regardless of how many times he tried to erase it.

“Neteyam?” Neytiri’s voice repeated for the third time, sending him a warning glance once noticing he was out of it before she proceeded. “Do you agree with the date chosen for your ceremony?”

No, absolutely not. He didn’t agree with the date chosen, he didn’t even agree with the woman chosen.

Eyiti never paid him mind years ago until the day she found out what he would grow up to be. She looked at him like a piece of meat and he knew it. Not that he ever craved her attention; when she would speak he would simply imagine she was someone else. You were the only girl in the clan who saw him for who he truly was. Just a man wanting to fall in love like everybody else. Was that so bad?

Neteyam abruptly rose up from where he sat and cleared his throat, effectively cutting the conversation short with an unexpected answer. “I am sorry, I refuse to mate with Eyiti. I will only accompany her to the festival, as that has been promised by my parents. But no one other than me will have a say in who will have my heart.”

The mouths of everyone in the room fell to the floor but Neteyam stood strong on his declaration, excusing himself from the conversation and walking out of the tent- leaving Eyiti as stunned and embarrassed as she had made you feel earlier. Jake and Neytiri immediately rose to go after him, apologizing for his change of behavior as much as they could while her parents consoled their daughter who was now sobbing dramatically.

He didn’t want to accompany her to the festival at all, but declining her as a mate, and forcing his parents to meet someone new all in one day was probably not the best idea. His plan was to show up with Eyiti, then ditch her in roughly ten minutes after her parents saw them together, slip out unnoticed and find you. He’d have to get Tuk in on the plan to serve as a distraction, which shouldn’t be too difficult for him. Neteyam was a stickler for being a gentleman, but he couldn’t care less about that witch’s feelings.

His legs were sent into a slight run-walk as Jake forced him into their family home by the back of his neck. He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair before turning around to face his father who was nearly red in the face, already knowing what was next to come.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how much you’ve embarrassed us? Our entire family? In front of the parents of the woman who is supposed to be your mate?” He yelled a string of questions, his finger pointed out of their tent to clarify exactly what he was referring to. His eldest son stood unamused. Silent and withdrawn. His physical body was here, but his mental was somewhere unknown. His head was turned to the side, his face not even so much as flinching at his father’s words. He simply laughed to himself, dropping his head towards the floor and mumbling incomprehensible sentences to himself.

“And what are you laughing at? Which part of this is funny to you?” Neytiri chimed in, looking at him with such disbelief it would have hurt his feelings, had he found the will to care. There was no more approval he strived to seek from his parents.

“Answer your mother when she’s speaking to you, boy.” Jake growled, Neteyam’s ears perking up.

“I am not a boy.” His eyes shot up, challenging his father with zero hesitation in his tone. Neteyam had it to his wits end with his parents trying to control every aspect of his life. Elder or not, he was no longer going to let them have a say in who he chose to love or how he chose to live his life. “You heard what I said.” His accent was apparent.  “I will not mate with that woman. And I will not apologize for loving another, my heart belongs to [Y/n].” He stated strongly, lifting his chin to indicate confidence in his decision.

Neytiri blinked in astonishment, her voice sputtering while she tried to find a way to continue the conversation with words instead of knocking him over his head. “And what makes you think we will allow you to mate with someone we do not know? Someone we have not deemed fit for you? This girl will be Tsahik, Neteyam!” She hissed.

This. This was the issue. His parents were so concerned about status in the clan that they let it overshadow their own son’s right to happiness.

“I have tried so many times to tell you! She is special, I swear it. You guys won’t listen to me.” He extended his hands to the pair in a pleading motion, his voice growing louder with each word he spoke and a slight crack in his pitch giving away how much this was all starting to affect him. “Dad wasn’t even one of the people when the two of you mated, it went against everything the clan knows. You cannot judge me. And I couldn’t care less about this stupid title. You can give it to Lo’ak, for all I care.” He spat, leaving them right where they stood and storming out of their home.

He was right, whether they wanted to admit it or not. Jake wasn’t a real na’vi when he first arrived, he was an avatar driver with an aborted mission. Neytiri was promised to another, but went against her parents and mated with him anyway. They both went against the rules because their love for each other was so strong, just as he was now. How could his own parents blame him for wanting to find true love just as they did?

“Neteyam!” Neytiri gasped, both her hands coming up to cover her mouth and tears forming in her eyes.

Jake immediately turned to comfort her, pulling her into a firm hug and rubbing her back. “He doesn’t mean that, I know he doesn’t. He’s just upset, I’ll talk to him.” He held her as she cried into his chest, wanting to go after Neteyam but knowing he couldn’t leave his wife alone after what had transpired.

By the time Jake had soothed Neytiri and ran out after his son, he had already set out into the air on his Ikran without another word spoken.

Neteyam soared through the purple-tinted sky aimlessly, allowing the bond with the animal to reach deep into his heart and figure out where to take him. He winced at the thought of how he had addressed his mother, the look on her face after what he said. He was fed up and couldn’t stand to argue any longer, his voice was not being heard no matter how loud he spoke and it had pushed him well over the edge. By the time he realized what he was saying, it was too late to take it back and the damage had already been done. He felt the innate urge to turn around, to run to his mother and apologize. But he was tired of doing the right thing all the time. For once in his life he just wanted to be able to make a mistake like everybody else could without it seeming like the end of the world.

His father’s voice calling his name could be heard through the speaker connected to the neckpiece they all wore for communication. He curled his lips in annoyance, hooked two fingers under the band and snapped it off his neck with ease. He pitched it into the air without another thought, letting it fall to the ground below him. He had no idea where it landed and he couldn’t care less. He didn’t want to be bothered anymore.

He allowed the wind to flow through his braids, the cold, crisp air hitting his cheek and helping in keeping him grounded. After what felt like a short journey, his Ikran slowed and prepared to land in the open field by the Tree of Voices- a place for prayers to be heard. He eyed the giant willow tree, ignoring the heavy weight in his chest. He dismounted from the bird, gently pulling his braid to break tsaheylu and smoothing a hand up its rough back, followed by a tender pat to calm its spirit. He hadn’t been here since his parents brought him to visit the ancestors, when he was younger. There had been nothing he wanted enough to call upon Eywa for, and his duties rendered him far more busy than he had expected, which left almost no time for a casual visit.

He trailed a hand along the delicate, elongated tendrils of the tree as he walked- taking a brief looking around to make sure he was alone before he slowly lowered himself to the ground. He reached over his shoulder to pull the long braid from behind his back, taking hold of one of the tree’s branches in his other hand. He watched closely as his queue reached for the branch, wrapping itself around and making the connection that would allow Eywa to hear his pleas. He could feel the intense spiritual energy coarse through his veins, allowing him to let his guard down.

His head lowered and his eyes came to a close. He had so much to say but didn’t know how to phrase it, didn’t know how to start. Neteyam was not familiar in asking for things, let alone help. He was always made to do everything himself, made to figure it out on his own like a true leader. Every moment in his life boiled down to preparation for what was yet to come, so much that he didn’t even know how to handle the emotions that would arise in the present. He was constantly running, motivation carrying him forward. But now he questioned the purpose of the race entirely. Had he ever stopped to ask himself if this was what he wanted?

“Eywa, I have come to you to ask for help, if you’ll have me.” He started, his voice merely a whisper as he continued. “I don’t know what to do.”

Going against his parents was ultimately going against everything he knew. It felt wrong. Forbidden. But giving up on his feelings for you felt even worse. At this point he didn’t care what would happen, he’d bare with having his potential title stripped from him if it meant he could spend the rest of his life with you by his side.

His eyes shut tightly in attempt to stop the tears he dreaded welcoming. His throat burned and a lump began to form that felt nearly impossible to swallow. He didn’t want to cry, not after he had tried so hard not to. He hadn’t in years, and he knew if he allowed himself to break down in this moment it would only lead to bringing up every other emotion he had succeeded in bottling up for so long.

Neteyam’s shoulders began to shudder and he shook his head in resistance at the shiver that struck through his body, but ultimately failed at putting up a fight. A sob finally erupted from his trembling lips and he brought his free hand up to shield his face, as if he were afraid someone would see him in such a vulnerable state. He sat in the bioluminescent flora around him, simply allowing himself to cry, something he hadn’t been able to do in years. The pressure of being the perfect son had finally gotten to him. He was aware from time that it was slowly creeping up, taking an immense toll on his mental health and he tried his best to outrun it. A slight miscalculation on his end, you can never outrun the inevitable. He had never expected it to break him down in such a way, his body physically feeling weak and hopeless. He was completely conflicted, knowing it was always best to follow his heart but it went against his coding to disappoint his parents.

He felt the presence of Eywa and his ancestors calm him, the pace of his breathing gradually returned to normal and the beating of his heart followed soon after. He wiped his face dry with the backside of his hand, regaining his composure while gathering the will to carry on with his prayer. “I have never asked anything of you until now, because nothing has ever meant more to me than this. Until I met her, I hadn’t known the true meaning of happiness, what it felt like to be alive. And now, we’ve found our way back into each other’s lives and I cannot let her go. Not again.” He felt an ache deep in his chest, fearful that even saying these words out loud would turn them into reality.

“I fear that I have disappointed my parents greatly. I said some things I am not proud of, and I am not sure if I can take back the damage they have caused.” He sighed, his eyes opening and his head raising to peer at the sky above him. “I know she is special. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it, deep in my bones.” With his hand placed over his chest, it balled into a fist against his skin and he begged with everything he had left in him.

“Please, allow them to see her the way I do.”

~~~

Had it not been for your mother that day, you don’t know what you would’ve done. The walk back to your tent was unforgiving as you tried to hide the tears that were forming once more, not out of sorrow, but of pure disgust. The speed in which you declined Ta’olu’s invitation was utterly comical. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t consider it for a second, but all the faith you had in his proposal died as soon as you found out he was only inviting you to make the same girl he ditched you for in the past, jealous. You wished you hadn’t even stopped to give him the time of day because the whole encounter only made you feel worse.

You pushed through the fabric that served as a doorway to your home and crossed the distance that separated you from your mother, sinking to your knees and tears flowing from your eyes when she wrapped her arms around you without question. “I’m too late, Mama.” You hiccuped. Your tears felt like acid on your cheeks and it hurt to even speak. You hated crying, especially over something like this. The entire process of being upset, realizing your emotions, then having to find an outlet to rid them- revolted you.

“What happened?” Your mother looked down at you, her eyebrows furrowed with concern and a hint of apprehension. Her head moved to the side with an understanding sigh when your crying picked up at the nature of her question, resting her cheek against the top of your head and stroking your hair. She quietly shushed you, rubbing your back to aid in comfort. Your fervent emotions shrouded your will to elaborate.

You sniffled, inhaling a pathetically shaky breath and forcing your voice to come together and make words after a bit. “I’m too late. He’s found someone else.” Saying it out loud to her made it all the more real. You couldn’t stop your heart from clenching when you admitted the truth to her. In all your years of loving him, your mother had never had you come to her with anything he had done that wasn’t positive.

She slowly pulled away from your embrace, but only to look into your eyes as you spoke. She needed to make sure for herself that she was hearing this correctly. “No… How? The two of you were just together only two days ago.” She sounded as dumbfounded as you felt.

“Eyiti,” You shook your head, wiping the tears that had fallen without your permission off your face with the heel of your hand, annoyed at the fact that more appeared no matter how hard you tried to settle yourself. “She’s his date to the festival tomorrow. He’s probably talking to her parents about it right now.” Your voice got quieter, your shoulders slumping down as you sulked and studied the palms of your hands- staring at the lines etched into your skin as a getaway from your feelings.

Your eyes shot up when you heard your mother breath out a sigh, it almost sounded like she was *relieved*. She quickly geared up to explain once the expression on your face became one of slight betrayal and confusion.

She shook her head and laughed quietly, “There is still time, [Y/n]. Her being his date does not mean they are promised to one another. But it very well could, if you do not take your chance tomorrow.” She used her thumbs to clean the tears that had rolled down the side of your face, cupping it in her hands afterwards. “Did you bring what is needed?” Her eyes were soft and seeing her calm expression somehow helped you in doing the same.

“Yes, I…” You blinked to clear your vision, opening your mouth to speak but settling for a nod of your head. The small bag was brought around to your front, holding it open so she could see inside.

A grin from her was all that was required to strike you with the ambition you didn’t know you had left.

Your fingers were sore to the touch and swollen after hours of carving the marbles and stones you had found into small beads. The process was intricate and painstaking. It required delicate hands and utmost patience. Had you tried to speed up the process you were at risk of cracking the material directly in half, rendering it useless. And after doing just that almost three times while trying to rush through, you had absolutely no more room for error.

You used a thin twine to weave the beads together, crocheting intricate rows of stitches between the material to hold it together, making a clasp that would be easy for him to take on and off on his own. Your mom had taught you how to make jewelry and garments years ago, you eventually surpassed her in skill. You hadn’t the desire or need to make something for a while, but the talent you possessed remained. You constructed his gift with unbelievable precision, your eyes strained from barely taking time to blink. But you were still incredibly nervous that it wouldn’t be to his liking.

Unknown to you, Neteyam loved everything you did, even if it was as simple as breathing.

You couldn’t thank your mom enough for helping you with this. She had given you a deadpan look the tenth time you expressed gratitude, so you figured ten was a good number to settle on. You felt silly even asking, so you were more than appreciative that she had offered. At first, it was hard for you to understand why she had been so supportive. Then she explained to you that when she were head over heels for your father, she had no one to lean on but herself, not even her own mother. She was more than willing to help her daughter win over the one she loved, because all she wanted was to see you happy.

Eclipse had long passed, the sun tucking itself away after a job well done and the moon announcing its arrival with how the night now encapsulated the village. The necklace was finally complete. One could tell how much effort went into it just by looking at it, it was beautiful. The beads were varying shades of brown, orange, and red- Neteyam’s favorite colors to wear. You honestly had no idea why you decided on still making it, without even knowing how this whole thing would play out at that. There was a small part of you that feared it would go to waste after what you witnessed earlier, but there was an even bigger part of you that since rediscovered the hope you previously lost.

How dark it had become outside skated past you without notice until you finally looked up from the spot your eyes were locked on since this afternoon. The both of you had even skipped dinner just to make sure you finished in time for tomorrow.

“How are you even still sitting like this?” You collapsed backwards with a exhale of great fatigue, your eyes fluttering closed against your will and your back crying out in relief. You knew hunching over in the same exact spot would hurt, but you had no idea you’d come out of it feeling a hundred years older than you already were. “Do you think he will like it?” You mumbled, sleepiness hurriedly overtaking you.

By the time your mother turned to respond, an array of faint snores could be heard. Had you not been so exhausted, you would’ve awoken at the sound of her laughing due to your mouth hanging open obnoxiously. She smiled at you with nothing but endearment, gingerly lifting your head to slip a cushion under it and draping a light blanket over your body that was now curled into a fetal position- a mindless endeavor to seek warmth. She leaned down to kiss your temple, pushing a few braids from your face so they wouldn’t disrupt you. “He will love it.” She whispered.

a/n: y’all knew i wasn’t gonna make her accept Ta’olu’s invitation that’s toooo cliche for my liking 😭 also you literally have the best mom she’s so sweet

This chapter was so emotional to write omg! but can we talk ab the fact that Neteyam finally stood up to his parents about you, need a him in my life fr 💔

Please like + reblog if you can, it’s much appreciated! 💞

tag list ⬇️

@hornknee-and-bi-myself @obsessedwithlife @llearlert @awkward-halfhug @extreamlycutecuban @answer-the-sirens @arminsgfloll @jackiehollanderr @tejas-kris @neteyamoa @instabull @halibanana @bookishaficionado @uwu-i-purple-you @neteyamsgirll @kre3ce @philiasoul @eringaitskill @bwormie @fanboyluvr @ssc7514 @meivap @afro-hispwriter @hellok1ttycake @melsunshine @casuallydogobsessed @katsukiswrld @mcdonalds-playground @itscheybaby @neenieweenie @babyvinnie @msjae @laylasbunbunny @epicy0n @dreamersbelieveinus @elegantzippercashshoe

[oneweirdbookaddict]

Alright, @undertheopensky

This one’s all for you 😂

Your long awaited sequel to this fic!

Hope you enjoy!

4849 words, slight warnings for one (1) instance of assault, and ngl its angsty and doesn’t really have a happy ending? But it’s not a bad ending either.

Summary: Four hates towns. Or, well… Four hates his town. The one he protected with his blood, sweat, and tears. Sky asks the right questions.

~~~~

It had been a long couple of days when they arrive in Four’s era.

Right outside the smithy’s house, Four scrambling right through the door and tumbling in. “Papa!” The kid shouts, and they take a minute to glance at each other before following him inside.

Finally met the smithy’s grandfather, got settled in, got to rest for an afternoon, and a home cooked meal.

Now they’ve been tasked with trying to get Four to take them around town for a bit so they can get needed supplies.

And they’re rather unsuccessful.

The kid beams up at him unapologetically. “Sorry, Sky. I can’t. I have chores to do.”

“Four-” Time sighs, but there’s no getting the kid to come. Four’s sweeping out the floor of the forge, eyes sparkling, just happy to be home.

“I’ll find you a map if you give me a minute.” Four hums, turning away.

Time sighs, staring at the back of Four’s head.

Sure enough, Four finishes sweeping and leads them to a small office with a strong looking desk and lots of shelves and drawers.

The kid rustles around in one of the drawers for a moment, pulling out a sheet of parchment and studying it for a moment before offering it to them.

“I can’t read this.” Time reminds him, and Four hums again.

“Don’t need to. Red circle is the apothecary, the center of the town is the market. You’ll find anything there- and it’s just a straight shot past the gates.”

“If it’s so easy-”

“I have chores to do.” Four repeats with a poorly hidden grin, already leaving the room.

“Should we find an inn or are we able to stay here?” He asks, and that gets Four to pause for a minute.

“We have room on the floors. Definitely not enough beds- it might be best for you guys to find the inn and sleep in some beds for a night or two. I dunno. Think about it.” Four shrugs, and then he’s gone.

Time sighs yet again, rolling his eye.

“Time, let him be with his grandpa again.” He says quietly.

“It’s not that.” Time says.” “He knows the town, he knows it well. He can take one hour to make sure we find everything we need. We need potions and medical supplies, we need to restock on rations and food. If we don’t find those-”

He smiles gently at the old man.

“We have more pressing things-”

“Time.” He pushes, slightly less gently. “He’s a child.”

All the fight deflates out of the old man at the reminder.

Seems to remember this, looking away.

“You’re right. I’ve… I’ve been too harsh on him.”

He shrugs, accepting the map from Time. “Let’s get this done- he made it sound like an easy trip. We can be back before supper.”

“Sounds good.” Time agrees, and they leave the room to gather up the others to make the trip to the little town.

~~~~

It's an easy, quick trip to town, and they find Four making supper with his grandfather upon their return.

“Supper should be ready in about fifteen minutes.” Four smiles at them, a little smudge of some sort of seasoning on his cheek.

So they get all their supplies packed up and put away, and enjoy their meal.

He sits next to Four, managing to be lucky enough to sit at the table, meaningless chatter filling the house.

It’s the evening when they really speak again, Time sighing and relenting as he, Twi, and Wars ask to spend some time at a tavern.

“Four, we’re going to find the pub, will you come get us before you settle for the night?” The old man asks.

Four’s expression remains the same for a long second, giving absolutely no indication that he heard Time, then nods. “Yeah. The only one is on the side of town- once you enter go to the right as much as you can and then up towards the castle. Can’t miss it. I’ll get you guys around… eleven and a half bells?”

“Sounds good. Thanks, kiddo.”

“Not a kid.” Four hums, and he has to smile.

“It’s what your grandfather calls you.”

“Yes. My grandfather is sixty two- everyone is a kid to him. He’s called grown adults kiddo.”

He laughs at that, and Four’s eyes flick to him.

“Be safe.” Four says softly, oddly… serious in his warning.

“It’s just a town. Little town,” he says, confused. And it is- a small, peaceful little town. Rather reminds him of Skyloft, actually.

“What’s the worst that can happen?”

Four shrugs, already turning away. “There’s a festival or something coming up soon. Just… it may be busy, people may be territorial. They’re not all so open to outsiders.

“They seemed fine when we went to the market.” Wars frowns, though Four merely shrugs before vanishing into a room.

They take a minute to shrug at each other before heading out the door.

~~~~

It was Twi’s idea to… mess around a bit and try to dig up some information on Four.

He definitely didn’t mean for… all this.

But the situation had spiraled well out of their control, and he’s a little too tipsy to defuse it.

So he clutches his sailcloth in his fist to avoid punching someone.

“Oh… he’s… crazy.” One woman sighs softly. “He… he didn’t come back quite the same. A shame, he was such a good boy.”

The bartender glances up, eyes narrowing. “That’s a rather kind way of saying he had a screaming match with himself in the middle of my shop.”

They all freeze. This has gone way too far, they need to end this, this-

“Oh, your anger towards him is unjustified, Mr. Elson. He’s a boy- he’s a boy, and he’s alone and traumatized. He was so young… how is he supposed-”

“Are you kidding me?” The man laughs incredulously. “The kid is absolutely insane. Didn’t come back right in the head. Being twelve at the time don't change that.”

Rage flies through him, and he forces himself to take a deep breath. Time’s eyes narrow dangerously. Wars looks ready to go full war captain mode.

Seemingly oblivious to their reactions, the man continues.

“I mean, sure. I get it. The poor kid is traumatized. But isn’t that his responsibility? He doesn’t need to come around town and make it the rest of our problem.”

Time’s hands shake with rage, and he feels the blood pounding in his ears. War’s hands clench into fists, but it doesn’t hide their shaking at all.

“It’s been almost three years? I think the kid’s almost sixteen. Used to hang around with the princess, was around her age. He should just be better by now.”

“Guys. Let’s go.” A voice says quietly. The last voice they want to hear right now.

The three men turn around tensely and freeze when they see the smith himself standing behind them.

“You’re not welcome here.” The bartender says, and he whips around, barely leashing his anger when Time places a hand on his shoulder.

“Yes, Mr. Elson, I apologize. I’ll be leaving shortly.”

“You’ll be leaving now or I’ll contact the authorities.”

“Yes, sir.” Four says softly.

“Yes, sir.” The man mocks. “Get out of here, you freak. If I catch you around here again-”

They leave the man still angrily ranting about what exactly he’ll do if she catches Four around here again, exiting the shop. The words ‘crazy lunatic’ are heard before the door slams behind them.

“Four-” Time starts quietly, but the smith shakes his head, cutting him off.

“Don’t.” Four’s eyes are trained on the ground, ignoring the glares and whispers thrown his way. “Just… don’t.”

“Four…” He says softly, trailing off when Four stops.

Four looks up for a second, meeting his eyes. Something passes between them- he’s not quite sure what- and then Four looks down at the ground again.

Leads them around a block before pausing. It’s busy for so late at night, he notices finally, glancing down at Four. He had mentioned a festival or something.

The kid gulps visibly, expression flickering into an anxiousness he doesn’t understand.

But slowly steps forward, taking a deep breath.

He and Wars share a glance but follow.

People stare and fall silent as they pass, eyes lingering on Four.

Expressions from anger to curiosity to distrust on their faces. One man looks at Four with such hatred he pauses.

"Move.” Four mumbles to him, and he forces his feet to obey.

But the man stops them, stepping into their path and forcing Four to stop.

“You’re not welcome here.” The man says firmly, crossing his arms.

Four doesn’t even look up from the ground. “I’m just passing through.”

“You’re going to take another way. You’re not welcome here.”

Four chews his lip, finally looking up.

“Going around takes an hour, please just this one time-”

“Don’t make me call the guards, freak. Get out of here.”

“Please- one time, just one time, you can watch me all the way through-”

Quicker than he or even Wars can react, the man lashes out and strikes Four across the face.

Four stumbles back, clutching his face, ignoring or not hearing their yelps.

“I said get out of here. We want nothing to do with you. Now scram.”

Four turns without another word and starts back down the path. He glares at the man for a long moment until Wars gently taps his arm- their signal to keep going.

The ranch hand refuses.

“You have no right.” Twi scowls, and the man looks to the rancher. “He sacrificed everything for you.”

“Twi.” Wars mutters under his breath.

The man laughs. Loudly. “It would’ve been better if he’d never stuck his nose in that shady shit to begin with- and then came back all jumbled, talking to himself and having screaming matches with nobody in the middle of the road. You keep that freak away from me, you hear me?! He’s a freak!” The man yells the last part at Four’s retreating back.

Four’s shoulders hunch down, the kid shrinking into himself.

Twi grabs the man by his tunic, shaking the man rather ungently. “He sacrificed everything for you! You don’t even understand what he’s been through!”

“Twilight.” Wars says softly, seriously, grabbing his arm.

The rancher shoves the man away, sending him to the ground. “A freak?! That’s a child you’re assaulting!”

Twi glowers down at the now cowering man, disgust on his face. “You’re not even with his time.” The rancher mutters, turning his back and finally letting Wars drag him down to where Four’s waiting down the street.

Not quite meeting their eyes, cheek pink where he’d been hit.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Four mumbles, taking the turn to leave town.

“Four-”

“They’ll know you’re with me. You guys won’t be able to come back- they won’t want you here either.”

Silence.

Four leads them all the way around- for such a little town it sure does take a lot of time to get around- back to the forge.

Inside the front door, down the hall to his room, vanishing from sight.

~~~~

There’s a long silence where everyone stares up at where the smith had disappeared, then Time shakes his head.

“Leave him be.”

It’s a quiet night, the others taking in their tenseness.

Twi hesitates, looking down the hall where Four had vanished, fidgeting-

“Twi. Leave it.”

“I didn’t mean to-”

“I know. Just leave him be.” Time says gently.

“But-” the rancher cuts off, sighing slowly.

“Is he ok?” Wind mumbles groggily, having been woken up as they came in.

“Yeah.” Wars says gently, making his way over to the sailor. “Go back to sleep, you could stand to grow a little more.”

The sailor squawks in protest, but the captain only snickers and affectionately ruffles Wind’s hair.

Gets his bedroll set up next to the sailor’s, settling down. Time and Twi slowly do the same, Twi’s gaze still lingering down the hall.

“I’ll go check-”

“Twi.” He interrupts gently. “He doesn’t want to talk to us. Try it in the morning.”

Another long sigh, but the rancher finally settles.

He stretches out himself, missing the bit of warmth Four usually provided during the night.

~~~~

He wakes up early- very early, the rest are still sleeping and the moon hasn’t even set yet.

He’s suspecting around two chimes, but he can’t tell for sure. Time feels different in Four’s era- it has a strong flow.

Or maybe the surface is making him crazy.

He stands, though, stretching softly and goes in search of the smith. Down the hall, rubbing his eyes.

The room Four had shown him and labeled it ‘his’ is empty when he glances into it.

So he wanders down the hall into the other room, peeking carefully into the room-

Four’s slumped next to a table, surrounded by books.

The room is packed with book after book- on shelves that line the room.

It is a small room- the size of a large closet, really- but it’s still an impressive amount of books.

A small table is shoved into the corner, two cushions on the available sides.

That’s where Four is, curled up on one of the cushions, a blanket over him, book still open in his hands.

He slowly walks the rest of the way inside, stepping carefully over books on the floor to get to his friend and sitting next to him.

Carefully takes the book in his hands, putting a folded slip of parchment in it to mark the page, closing it and setting it aside.

Slowly, carefully, taking hold of the teenager and getting him carefully into his arms-

Four shifts and mumbles sleepily, nestling closer to him with a soft noise of contentment.

“Shh… I’ve got you, kiddo.” He whispers.

Four’s eyes flutter, but don’t open.

He carefully carries the smith back down the hall, tucking him gently into the bed in the corner, the teenager mumbling again and curling into the soft bed.

“Better than that little cushion on the floor, yeah?” He whispers, getting the blankets around the kiddo.

Four’s hand slowly grabs at the blanket, other one finding his hand and clinging to it.

“Shh…” he hums softly, trying to ease Four’s hand off of him… Four’s eyes flutter open, and he freezes.

“Stay with me.” The smith murmurs groggily, slowly releasing the grip on his hand when he nods in shock.

Four manages to scoot to the side of the bed so he can lay next to him, the smithy curling right back into his arms when gets settled.

“G’night, Sky.” Four mumbles drowsily, and he has to smile.

“Sleep well, buddy.”

~~~~

He sits in his bed, gazing out the window thoughtlessly. Sky snores softly next to him. 

Watches the sun slowly rise, the light peek through the window in beautiful shades of gold, pink, and orange. 

Trying not to think back to the weeks after his adventure, but… after a day like yesterday how could he not?

“It’s going to be ok.” Zelda had said softly once, his first time seeing her after everything. “But it’s going to be different.” 

If only she knew how right she was. 

“Four?” 

Sky. 

He glances down, forcing a little smile. 

“Hey, Sky.” He manages, the knight rubbing his eyes and flopping so he’s on his back. 

He’s reminded heavily of a golden retriever asking for belly rubs, and has to resist the urge to smile. 

Silence. Sky looks nervously at him, matching his smile with one that’s equally as fake. 

“You can ask.” He says finally, laying back again to curl into Sky’s warmth. “I… I owe you an explanation.” 

Sky finally does. 

“This is why? Why you hate towns? Why you prefer to stay at the inn, or do research, or… anything other than the market.” 

He nods into Sky’s steady heartbeat. 

I don’t understand, Sky would say, shaking his head as left for the market, leaving him at the inn at his insistence and sometimes begging. 

I don't expect you to. All I ask is that you respect it, he’d shoot back rather sharply. Uncharacteristically sharply. He’d ignore the other’s surprised looks, and they wouldn’t press the issue further. 

He stares out the window some more, then sighs slowly. So much for fighting off the bad memories. 

“After I came back from my… after… after I returned the sword to the palace, something… it changed me. The magic I used had… consequences.” 

He curls into a ball, turning to look at the wall. 

Keeping Sky out of his gaze. 

“I came back weird. Jumbled. I… I…” 

He lets out a broken laugh. “I was crazy. Maybe I still am. I don’t know anymore, Sky.” He whispers. 

Four bodies fuse back into one, but… four minds clash and fight in that one body. 

For a moment, Link is fine. 

And then he’s on the ground, clutching his head, screaming. 

Cursing, sobbing, giggling, yelling in pain, fear, anger, embarrassment, any emotion he can think of flashing through him in waves and waves. 

Zelda ends up running to get his grandfather, bawling uncontrollably herself. 

She’s terrified out of her mind, understandably. 

Papa carries him home- he can’t walk. He can’t speak. He can’t form a coherent, clear thought. 

He can’t do anything for a week. 

Can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t think, just lays in bed and stares at the ceiling, his mind quite literally at war with itself. 

Sometimes he manages to scream when the pain gets too bad. 

Papa sits next to him the entire time, holding him close when he manages to cry, scream, anything. 

Tries to coax some soup into him so he can eat, but…

He can barely swallow. He can't function in the slightest. 

After that week he… can somewhat do the very basics again. Sleep, manage some food, drink water… 

He slowly gets back around to talking- which he immediately stops doing again. 

It’s garbled, stuttered, staccato sentences that make no sense, barely stringing two words together before changing topics completely, and it hurts. 

It hurts real bad. 

The ache behind his eyes the first time he tried… 

“Papa!” He’d screamed, the first comprehensible thing he’d probably said in a month, then spent the rest of the day screaming and sobbing into his papa’s chest. 

He stops trying to speak. 

Moving is difficult and often painful- his movements are jerky, uncoordinated, and slow. 

As if four bodies are fighting for the ‘correct’ way to move. 

After a while, he gives up on moving, too. 

He spends as much of his time as possible sleeping.  

It’s the only way to escape the constant pain, the horrible loudness in his head. 

He… becomes a bitch. 

To his grandpa, to Zelda… to anyone who encourages him. 

Just starts ignoring everyone, doing everything and anything in his power to fight whenever someone tries to force him. 

Spits, scratches, screams, one time he manages a well placed knee into his father’s groin. He’s still pretty proud of that one. 

That attitude, however, changes with a visit from the minish. 

He wakes up one night to little footsteps on his chest, and he finds himself covered in minish. 

On his stomach, his chest, his arms and legs, a few curled up in his hair, chittering happily to see him awake. 

His mind is still too jumbled to understand them fully, but their love and encouragement seeps through to him. Their kindness and affection touching him, making him feel… remarkably less lonely. 

He hadn’t even realized how lonely he’d been- Papa is, as always, moving around and doing work, Dot is doing her princess duties, Father… well, was never around anyway… 

And even though Papa spends as much time with him as possible it’s different now. 

He can’t do the things he could do anymore- he can’t talk. Walk. Anything. 

He’s stuck just… laying there. 

His good arm slowly reaches to gently stroke a dozing minish on his chest, and he realizes he has to get better. 

For Papa, for Dot, maybe for Father, but… most importantly, for himself. 

So when Papa walks into his room the next morning, he gathers everything inside of him and sits up. 

“M- Morning.” 

He’s seen Papa cry one time in his lifetime- when Mama died. 

But now, Papa holds him and cries for a while. 

“I love you, kiddo, I love you so much.” Papa manages, wiping his eyes carefully. “Let’s get you some breakfast. Let’s get you to the table?” 

And with Papa’s support, a stupidly long time, and several instances of nearly eating the floor, they do manage to get to the table from his room. 

Though after that, Papa makes him a wheelchair. 

Walking is still too much- his legs don’t move right, barely support his weight, and wobble whenever he stands. But wheeling himself around… well, it works. 

Not quite easier. Not quite… better. But it works for him. 

He- for the first time in months- can get around by himself. 

Around the house, around the forge, even outside. 

Never to the town- but to the woods nearby, down the trail, just able to spend time outside. 

When he makes the decision he wants to walk again, Papa reaches out to a man from a whole different town to come and see him. 

They spend a week together, the man assessing his movement, what he's able to do, what he’s not able to do, how well he can move different parts of his body, and so on. 

By the second day he has what the man calls a mobility support, that straps onto his arms and has a big, sturdy stick that leans on the ground. 

His movements are still jerky, odd, and unnaturally slow. But he’s walking. He’s walking. 

The man teaches him exercises, stretches, and different techniques for him to do until he’s completely able to walk again. 

The man is completely certain he’ll be able to. 

It takes a lot of work, a lot of pain, a lot of nasty spills, one broken wrist, and another couple months for him to be able to walk without the supports. 

And though his physical strength is returning, or… on the mend, as Papa liked to say, he still struggles with the mental aspects of it. 

The voices. 

His grandfather finds him zoned out all the time- in between bites of food, walking down the hall, reading a book, just standing there with a blank gaze, staring at nothing, lips moving slowly. 

Talking to himself- he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until Papa asks him what he’s talking about. 

His speech is still… stuttered, so he doesn’t do it a whole lot. 

But he can’t. Stop. Talking. To himself. 

Voices in his head all the time- not nearly as loud as when he first put the sword back, but still ever present. 

Telling him what to do, telling each other what to do, arguing with each other, arguing with him, arguing with Papa, conversing with each other, conversing with him, ever present, ever noisy. Driving him crazy. 

He cries one night, unable to sleep, the voices screaming at each other. 

It hurts. 

“Stop it!” He begs, Papa talking softly, helplessly, trying to calm him. “Make them stop, Papa!” 

Papa, of course, can’t do anything for him. 

He screams until he passes out. 

Several times the man who’d helped him walk had to go get Papa because he’d lose focus, start mumbling to himself, and… would stare off at nothing. For hours. 

Sometimes Papa’s able to coax him back to reality, but often times he isn’t. 

He often finds himself… ‘waking up’ to a throbbing headache, his throat burning, sitting on the floor, holding Papa’s hand. 

“Hey, Kiddo.” Papa always said softly, and then held him close while he slept off the nasty headaches. 

Oh… and the headaches. 

Always there, lingering in his head, waiting to stab. 

Sending him to bed for days, nauseating and he can’t tolerate any light or sound or movement. 

“Migraines.” Papa explains softly, massaging his temples as he fights the urge to sob. 

“Hurts.” He manages, knowing it’s only gonna hurt worse if he cries but unable to stop the tears. 

That’s about the time people start asking about him. 

It’s been months- they knew he was hurt, they knew… he wasn’t quite right anymore, but… they expected him to get better. 

He’s not getting better. 

Some days… some days are good days. 

But some are like he had just put that sword back and he can’t think he can’t talk he can’t walk he can only lay there and scream. 

“Want to come to town with me, Kiddo?” Papa asks one day, on one of his good days. 

He considers, blinking at his grandfather. 

“People have been asking ‘bout you. I think it’d do you some good to get out and see some people.” Papa offers gently. 

He considers further, then slowly nods. Carefully moves to get his mobility aids- walking for a while still aches and makes him wobbly- pulling his hair back into a little ponytail. 

And he slowly follows Papa to town for the first time in… five and a half months. 

That’s the first time people really stare. 

He’s winded by the simple walk to town from the forge, he looks ill- he’s pale and trembling. Papa keeps a gentle grip on his arm, steadying him when he falters at the staring. 

“Let them stare, Kiddo.” Papa murmurs, and they keep going. “Just make it worth their time.” 

He hates it. He despises it- the pitying looks, the sympathetic glances at his grandfather, the softness of their voices when anyone actually talks to him. 

Mostly, they talk to grandpa and just stare at him. 

“How’s he doing these days?” The shopkeeper asks softly to Papa, literally staring right at him. 

“Good.” He answers bluntly. Shortly. 

Papa chokes, but not before he catches the proud smile on his grandfather’s face. 

The shopkeeper flushes bright red and doesn’t talk again. 

It’s the same with all of them- no one has the guts to talk to him. Only about him. As if he’s not in front of them, too. 

“I’m sorry your boy is a crip, now.” The mill owner says softly, staring at his crutches. 

He resists the urge to whack the man over the head with one, though it’s difficult. 

Papa ushers him out of the shop without replying. 

“Does his father know?” The bar owner whispers loudly to Papa as they talk for a moment. 

He’s sitting at a table, reminding himself how to breathe. He’s pushed himself too hard. 

In… smoothly… out… out… out- 

“Papa.” He says calmly, and the man flinches and whips to stare at him. 

Papa rushes over to him, hand on his forehead in a flash, asking what’s wrong, what can he do? 

“Home.” He whimpers, struggling to get air in, he can’t remember how, all the voices are screaming loudly at him trying to get him to breathe just breathe in he can’t remember he can’t remember- 

His hands rip the straps of his crutches off, slamming his hands over his ears, sinking into Papa’s hug and letting himself be pulled slowly to the floor. 

He’s choking air down in frantic gasps, hands grasping desperately at Papa’s tunic. 

“Home!” He bawls, and Papa’s much to shocked to say anything- 

Pull yourself together and calm down! We- 

We’re not a we! 

He! He is a him! 

We’re not going home! It’s nice to be outside around people and the sun- 

This sucks! This sucks! Everyone’s staring and no one will talk to us- 

Me! 

Us! 

Me! 

Us! 

Stop freakin stuttering and spit down words back out then! Talk to them first! 

Don’t you even go there- that’s terrible. We can’t- 

He! 

He can’t control that! It’s a stutter! 

It’s a weakness. 

Don’t be a jack-

Knock it off! 

It hurts! 

Stop it! Stop yelling! 

Guys we’re hurting Link. 

I want to go home! 

Well I want to stay out! It’s the first time being out of the house in nearly half a year! 

“Link, son, breathe- slow down for me, kiddo.” 

He crawls into his grandfather’s arms and screams until he passes out. 

Wakes up later with the worst migraine he’s ever had to date- leaving him bedridden for a week. 

He doesn’t realize until later- much, much later- that he’d screamed all of that, out loud, with half the town watching. 

By time he realizes… it’s months later, the town… has spread rumors out of control about him and his little breakdown, and they no longer want anything to do with him. 

He doesn’t tell Sky any of this, of course. 

“You’re not crazy, Four.” Sky says gently, sitting on the edge of the bed next to him. 

“Even you guys think it.” He says flatly. He’s noticed the lingering glances when he slips and mumbles to himself, the staring when he jolts back from staring off into space, the way he can’t quite control his movements on his bad days. 

He’s gotten himself injured in a fight more than once because he couldn’t get his arm to move, or his feet to move quick enough. 

“No- no, Four - we don’t. We just worry.” 

“Yeah.” He mutters instead of arguing about it. 

Silence. 

“Has it gotten… I mean… the bartender mentioned it’s been two years…” 

Slowly turning on his back, he looks up at the Skyloftian, sighing. 

“It was different. I knew it was going to be after… after everything. But it didn’t make it any easier.” 

~~~~

[afewproblems]

Angsty dialogue prompts 👀

Number 13 - "Why would you say that?"

-@strangersteddierthings

Ahhhhhh thank you for the request Jess! @strangersteddierthings I hope you enjoy, I took this into a bit of a different direction than even I expected!

***

It takes Robin's foot connecting with his ankle to make Steve realize he was starring.

At Eddie, yet again.

Something that he had been doing a lot over the last few months since everything with Vecna and the Upside Down. Since Steve and Robin had managed to drag Eddie back from the brink, fighting off inky tendrils of death as Dustin led the way while Nancy brought up the rear, shot gun in hand.

Between the four of them, Eddie had actually made it. Torn up and missing about two liters of blood, but alive.

Of course, navigating the aftermath of the earthquakes and the loss of half the town had actually made it easier to avoid the murder charges that had been lobbed at Eddie.

Especially with the way Lucas, Erica, and Max had sworn up and down that Jason had been the one responsible for all of the murders, that they had narrowly escaped becoming his final victims.

And who could argue with the evidence, certainly not Jason after the surge of white hot energy that split the earth had finished with him.

So with Eddie's newfound freedom and the inability to argue with Dustin's insistence that he had been officially adopted into the party, his presence in their lives had become something that Steve looked forward to.

It was nice having someone else his age in the group. Robin was his other half of course, his soul mate, but it was nice having another guy to hang out with, and of course it wasn't because of anything else, Robin.

He let it slip one time that Eddie had nice eyes and was easy to talk to and, do you think he's seeing anyone Bobby, and suddenly Steve is accused of having a crush. Of all things!

Steve feels two fingers suddenly pinch at the outside of his thigh and has to suppress a loud yelp as he bats Robin's hands away from his leg with a glare.

She rolls her eyes and gives him a knowing look before turning back to the conversation.

"Take Stevie over here," Eddie says around the joint between his lips. He takes a long drag before passing it over to Argyle and Steve can't help but watch, transfixed, as the smoke billows out from his nose like a dragon.

"I can guarantee you that he's seen the ocean before while the rest of us land-locked lubbers will probably never get the pleasure," Eddie continues with a wink and kicks his leg up onto the coffee table in Steve's basement.

Argyle blows out a long puff of smoke, he's leaned back against the couch with his head tipped up towards the ceiling, "thats wild man," he says with a laugh in his voice, he doesn't react when Jonathan snorts and takes the joint from his hand.

"Seriously?" Jon asks after a minute, "dude, we lived in California, we literally went to the beach all the time?"

Robin and Nancy both laugh at the noise of recognition that Argyle makes while Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Okay but for everyone else who didn't have the benefit of local geography," Eddie says, gesturing at the girls and himself, "we will be cursed to never feel the sand between our toes and all that shit".

Robin quirks an eyebrow and takes a swig of beer from the can in her hands, the sleeve of her denim jacket brushes against Steve's arm as she moves to set the can back on the coffee table.

They're the only two seated on the floor, Steve having given up the couch so everyone else could be comfortable and Robin couldn't, in good conscience, let her best friend sit by himself.

God he loves her, Steve thinks as he shoots her a soft smile.

He's never had someone that loves him so openly, so unapologetically as Robin does.

Not even when his parents were home for more than a few days a year did they show him the same kind of care that she had in their short time of knowing one another.

Sure, they teased each other, Robin had even made a new scoreboard for his failed attempts at flirting at Family Video --this one with a new section after Steve quietly admitted to her that they had even more in common than they had realized earlier.

But Robin was there, in a way that he hadn't really had from anyone else in years.

"I don't know how you deal with it Buckley," Eddie huffs. He's grinning widely at Robin and Steve, reaching to take the joint back from Jonathan.

"What," she says dryly, "Steve? He grows on you".

"He does," Nancy insists loudly from Jonathan's other side, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes a little glassy. Jonathan lifts his arm to tuck her against his side with a fond grin, he meets Steve's gaze after a minute and mouths, 'still a lightweight,' which makes Steve snort.

"This!" Eddie barks out, lifting a ringed hand to gesture around the basement sitting room, "look there's a fucking Linn LP12 sitting right beside you and a God Damn pool outside".

Steve frowns, looking from Robin back to Eddie. He feels an uncomfortable thrum roll over his skin as Eddie stands up to make his way to the sound system he pointed out.

"Jesus, I think this whole collection cost more than my trailer," he picks up Steve's mothers Joni Mitchell album, turning it in his hands, "must have been nice to have mommy and daddy's money huh? This is like 'fuck you' rich".

Steve feels a faint nervous laugh tumble out of his mouth, even as his stomach rolls at the words.

"Oh my god," Robin laughs, knocking her shoulder into Steve's own, "yes! If I had a nickle for the number of times he asked me why I don't have my own phone line yet whenever my mom answers first, I'd be as rich as Steve!"

Eddie puts the Blue album back and pulls out a copy of The Beatles and now Steve is sweating.

Because Eddie isn't wrong, this is his parents music collection and yes it did cost them a lot of money over the years. But, more importantly, it was off limits to Steve.

The last time his dad had caught him flipping through the vinyls, Steve had been sent to his room with large purple hand prints on the offending arm and two broken fingers.

"Okay, that's my dad's, put it down," he says, hiding the tremor in his voice as he gets to his feet.

Eddie rolls his eyes again but does set the record down on top of the collection. He raises his hands in surrender and raises a mocking eyebrow as he steps back towards the couch, dropping down on the end as Argyle scoots closer to Jonathan to make more space.

Argyle and Jonathan speak quietly to one another seemingly uncaring about the strange tension that begins to bleed into the basement. It's Nancy who is watching Steve, Eddie, and Robin, her mouth set in an unhappy frown.

Nancy had only met Steve's parents once during a very uncomfortable dinner, years back when they had dated. While she may not know the true extent of Steve's relationship with Richard and Cynthia Harrington, she knows it wasn't all sunshine and roses.

"Man," Eddie snorts, shooting Robin a wicked grin, "I knew your parents had spoiled you pretty rotten but I didn't think they needed to buy you a new sense of humor".

"Yeah Steve," Robin pats the carpet beside her, "it's just a joke, lighten up and come sit down".

And that, well, that hurt a bit more than Steve anticipated.

"Why would you say that?" He whispers, the words falling out of his mouth like vomit before he can stop it.

Eddie scoffs from the couch, but Steve isn't looking at Eddie. He's looking at Robin.

Robin who meets Steve's gaze with a slight frown between her eyes, she looks back at Nancy with a laugh in her smile that disappears at the frosty glare Nancy fixes her with.

She slowly turns to look back at Steve, confusion and concern in her blue eyes.

"Oh come on Steve," Eddie takes a drag of the joint, which has dwindled into something resembling a roach before stubbing it out in the brown ashtray on the table, "we're kidding, come on Byers, you get it right?"

Nancy leans up to whisper something in Jonathan's ear and whatever it is, it's enough to make him stiffen slightly and give Steve a long look before he shakes his head, "I think we're going to head home actually".

Steve nods and breathes out, ignoring the way his chest tightens as he refuses to meet Robin's worried gaze.

Eddie slowly stands to follow Nancy and Jonathan, he says something quietly to Argyle that is met with a simple serene shrug

Eddie hangs back as the other three make their way up the basement stairs. He chews his lip and clenches his fist as he looks between Steve and Robin with a frown.

Eddie stands awkwardly beside Robin, spinning one of the rings on his left hand as he looks between Steve and the stairs that the others had used to beat their hasty retreat.

Robin gets to her feet slowly, her gaze never wavering, "Steve?"

Steve winces at the way she says his name.

He knows it was just a joke, he knows he's overreacting, that neither of them could have known about his relationship with his parents.

He knows it's unfair of him to be so upset, but he can't help it.

Because Eddie mocking him, that he could deal with. He could get over it, let go of the fantasies of Eddie's crinkling eyes and warm smile that made Steve's heartbeat quicken.

But Robin?

The way she had laughed, dismissed his discomfort, it was as though he had been transported back to Tommy's basement just a few years back, listening to him and Carol tear him down.

It's just a joke Steve.

He reaches up to pinch at the bridge of his nose, flinching at the sharp intake of air from Robin who immediately makes her way closer.

"Just," he manages to say with an even tone, shaking his head. He closes his eyes and clears his throat, taking a step back from the pair.

"I'm going to bed, got a shift tomorrow, so," Steve says quietly with a shrug. He opens his eyes but drops his gaze to the carpet, knowing if he made eye contact with Robin, he would inevitably ask her to stay.

Robin opens her mouth to argue, a fierce glare in her eyes and a bright flush on her face, he hasn't seen her this upset since the Creel House.

"Steve--"

Robin jumps as Eddie reaches for her arm, pulling her back, hard enough that she stumbles slightly into Eddie.

Steve curls his arms around himself, shying away from Eddie's dark evaluating eyes. He doesn't need to see the judgment there, it's embarrassing enough feeling like he's ruined the evening because of his hangups. He doesn't need the reminder of how ridiculous it is to be angry with them over something so silly.

"Come on Buckley, I'll drive you home," Eddie mumbles as he gently tugs at her arm once again.

Steve hears a harsh sigh, but she doesn't say anything this time. He can feel her staring, as though trying to read his mind like she normally could. But Steve keeps his eyes trained on the floor, until he hears two pairs of feet finally make their way up the stairs, until the front door closes, until Eddie's van roars to life on the Harrington driveway.

Steve eventually makes his way upstairs in a daze, half heartedly getting ready for bed.

He brushes his teeth, washes his face, doing everything he can to ignore the words that echo in his head over and over. He finishes in the bathroom and takes off his jeans, swapping his sweater for an old ratty t-shirt he often used for bed.

It was just a joke.

Steve rolls over until he's facing the window, ignoring the tightness in his chest as he closes his eyes.

Maybe it would be funnier in the morning.