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libermachinae · 3 months

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apologies for the random Dragon Age hyperfixation 😭 t4t M!Adaar/Casandra hit me like a freight train this morning and I need to be able to function at work tomorrow so this is going up now.

CW: internalized transphobia, religious trauma

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Adaar pressed a hand to Cassandra’s chest. It was warm, just like the rest of him; a quiet reassurance she had become familiar with at some point, though she could not say exactly when.

“Wait, before we go any further,” he said. “There’s something you should know.”

Here it came. The inevitable heartbreak, the one Cassandra knew had to come at some point. Things like this didn’t happen to her. Not people like her; her specifically. The florid romances were things that happened safely just on the other side of a book page, not here in real life, the world of flesh and blood. She braced herself, trying to put on a brave face. She might have been a bad liar, but damn if she wasn’t going to try.

“What?” she asked. Not accusatory, she hoped. They were long past that. Adaar of all people had to know, if she acted with suspicion, it was only because the world at large had proven itself a duplicitous place. Though she trusted this man far more than any other, there was a reserve of herself that would not be convinced, no matter how thoroughly he proved himself. And he had proven himself, time and time again. Why else would she have ventured out here with him?

“I’m not like other men,” he said. “My body is different.”

Cassandra’s mind leapt to some of the more lurid tropes she’d encountered in her reading, but she quickly dismissed the thought. Though Adaar seemed to have an endless stream of quips for every situation, she knew by now when he was speaking sincerely.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“When I was born…” He grasped about for words, then gave up with a shake of his head. “I haven’t actually had to explain this before, the other mercs always just accepted it. Do you mind if I just show you?” He touched the waistband of his breeches, indicating what that would entail.

“...Go ahead,” she decided.

When she had, in moments of indulgence, imagined watching the Inquisitor undress for the first time, she had never pictured herself with feelings of trepidation. He moved quickly, removing first the formal jacket Josephine had pressured him into, followed by the thick belt buckle. There was nothing sensual about his movements, and yet there was no intimacy lost for the way he carefully coiled the fine leather and set it aside. It was vulnerability, she realized. The Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, the man who had taken her courtship as a challenge, was nervous to undress before her.

That realization was what scared her. She had seen all manner of terrible things done to living bodies, and the idea that such a thing might have befallen Adaar as well was distressing, but not insurmountable. Andraste (and Andraste alone) knew what she had endured. But that was the very reason she felt afraid now. Nothing he could show her now could be so terrible as the secret she herself held. If this, whatever it was, was enough to shake him, she could not begin to imagine how he would react if he ever found out her deepest shame.

She wondered, now, what she had been thinking, following him down here. Bringing attention to the flirting at all. She had known where it would lead, what it would mean for her, and she had allowed herself to get caught up in the fantasy of it, the delight at finally living out one of her most cherished hopes. A suggestion to forget the whole thing was on the tip of her tongue when Adaar dropped his pants.

What she saw there was not monstrous. The basic shape was as she might have expected, and it was handsome in the way miniatures accentuated all the greatest details of a work of art. For a brief moment, all of Cassandra’s other fears were banished, chased out by a far more solvable one: she wasn’t quite sure how to pleasure such a penis.

It was in trying to solve that conundrum that her eyes settled on what should have been the more obvious detail of the display: just underneath Adaar’s member, where she would have expected his scrotum, and covered in a dense nest of hair, were the lips of a vagina.

Cassandra stared. Her thoughts were whirling in a rush, too fast for her to even realize she should say something.

“I know it’s different,” Adaar said. He was still wearing his fine shirt. “It’s all fine, perfectly safe. It’s just my body, and it’s a little different from other people’s.”

“...I’ve never seen magic like this,” Cassandra said. It was a terrible thing to say, and she couldn’t even properly berate herself with how her head was pounding. How could he possibly…?

“Oh, yeah, that’s a good place to start actually,” Adaar said. “It’s not magic. I take a daily tonic that makes my body… well, a man’s body. I’m not sure exactly how it works. I’ve heard there’s pig urine involved.” He tried to laugh, the sound crashing down before it could fully take off.

A man’s body. The words rung like chantry bells in Cassandra’s head.

“So if you didn’t take it?” she asked.

“Well, I’d look like you,” he said. “I mean, taller, of course. With horns.” He’d been looking down at this genitals as he spoke, but now he looked up again and caught her eye. “Um.”

Cassandra didn’t know what her expression was doing and felt helpless to control it. She turned away, pacing away from the Inquisitor—not back to Skyhold, just away. She needed space. She needed to think. Her traitorous mouth was forming words she had promised herself she would never, ever say, the part of her that had fought to protect her for so long at war with the new part that wished desperately to protect this one incredible, invaluable person.

“Should I leave?” Adaar asked.

“No!” Cassandra snapped around, closing the distance between them too quickly and nearly running into the half-naked Qunari. She took a half step back. “I’m just—I’m trying to find a way to tell you… How do you make this look so easy?”

Adaar’s eyes widened. Realizing what she’d said, Cassandra took another step back.

“No, wait,” she said. “I—I’m sorry, my lord. I am—I never intended to deceive you.”

“Cassandra, stop.” Adaar reached out and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, ending her retreat. How could that touch remain so comforting, given the enormity of what she had just done? Her secret was out. Everything was over. The life she’d built, the future she’d hoped for—

“It’s okay,” Adaar said. “Just breathe.”

She did that. Willing all her training to her side then, she found her center of balance amongst the cluttered wreckage of her thoughts. She picked it up, dusted it off, and returned it to its rightful place, opening eyes she hadn’t even realized she’d shut.

“I apologize. My emotions got the better of me for a moment,” she said. “Thank you for grounding me. Perhaps you should put your pants back on while we discuss this?”

“Sure, if that would make you more comfortable,” Adaar said. “For the record, I don’t really care either way.”

“It would, but I will keep that in mind,” Cassandra said, and then was surprised by her own laugh. Adaar caught her eye as he pulled his trousers back on, a sparkle of familiar mirth there. Even in light of all this, then, he still had that inexplicable effect on her. She made note of that and set it aside for closer examination later, settling back down in the place they’d started. Adaar joined her so they were facing each other, within reach but not touching yet.

“Just so I understand,” Cassandra said, “if you didn’t take this tonic, you would be a woman?”

“Well, I’d look more like one,” Adaar said. “I’m not actually sure exactly what would happen. I’ve taken it since I was a young man, my entire adult life. Even before that, no one ever would have thought to call me a girl. I don’t know what me but a woman would look like.” His face said he didn’t want to, either.

“Quite different, I’m sure,” Cassandra said. “Does that mean you’ve known since you were a child?”

“Yes,” Adaar said. “As far back as I can remember, honestly. There was never a time I didn’t know who I was supposed to be.”

“That explains a great deal about you, doesn’t it,” Cassandra said. Cautiously, she reached out toward Adaar’s hand. Their fingers interlocked, a much-needed anchor of stability. “I knew, too. Or, I thought I did. When the dust settled in the wake of my parents’ betrayal, I was finally living as a lady, as I had always dreamed of doing. But the reality was nothing like I’d hoped. It was like I was being strangled by all my mother’s fine golden chains. Every day, I wondered if I had made a mistake, and yet I could never bring myself to ask to return to the life I’d led before. It was… terribly confusing.”

“It sounds like it,” Adaar said softly.

“I thought I was an abomination,” Cassandra went on. “A real one. I thought a demon must have been possessing me, to make me want such unimaginable things.”

“Is that why you became a Seeker?” Adaar asked.

“Not entirely. But I would be lying if I said it didn’t influence my decision.” She shook her head, feeling a familiar mixture of remorse, pity, and anger at her past self. “I know now that whatever causes me to feel as I do is not a danger to anyone else, unnatural as it may be. But it is not how one is supposed to be. I do not expect anyone else to understand. Or, that is to say, I didn’t.” She found she could not keep looking at their clasped hands, turning to the still scenery of the mountains around them. “I thought I was the only one like me.”

“Not in this way, you’re not,” Adaar said. Even when he couldn’t get her to look at him, the flirty smile still came through in his voice. “There were women in the Valo-Kas like that too. If you’re interested, they had treatments similar to mine.”

Cassandra tried and failed to hide her alarm.

“Pig urine?” she asked.

“No, no!” Adaar reassured her. “Theirs came in some sort of powder, I’m pretty sure. I knew one member of our company who would take hers as her morning tea.”

Something about the image sent a shiver up Cassandra’s back. Womanhood, distilled down to the contents of a teacup… She had to shake it off before she became too engrossed in the fantasy.

“That certainly sounds like something I would be interested in learning more about,” she said. “Later.”

“Sure, whenever you’re ready,” Adaar said sincerely. “So, what would you like to do right now?” There was a question layered inside that question, a tone of voice that sent another, warmer shiver through Cassandra. But it was a genuine question.

“Could you read another poem?” she asked.

He could, and did, happily. And when he finished, he started another. And when for the third time in a row he succeeded in finding the least romantic poems in a book that had supposedly been banned for its prurience, she at last brought him to a stop with a kiss. A kiss that went on, and on. And when at last she felt his hands on her body, when he gentled and caressed and felt over every (and only) the parts she wished to share with him, she felt the chains start to loosen from every place he touched. And from underneath them, her skin began to breathe.

#dragon age inquisition #cassandra pentaghast #inquisitor adaar #my writing #ficlet

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siswritesyanderes · 3 years

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Ok but yandere carlise x reader x yandere esme

(Not as detailed as I’d hoped to make it, but I quickly realized that if I went into detail then this thing would become very long. Hopefully avoided making the characters too OOC. Let me know if you like it, and how I did!)

…

You first met Dr. Cullen when you spent the day volunteering at the local hospital for one of your college classes.

There was a whole group of students there to help out, and you honestly weren’t sure why he seemed to notice you in particular; it certainly wasn’t because you were doing such a great job. Your work speed, in restocking the closets, was roughly average, and you kept having to ask your fellow volunteers where things were supposed to go. Granted, you at least weren’t one of the students who was transparently doing the absolute bare minimum to get the credit, but you wouldn’t exactly consider yourself a shining star of competence either.

Still, Dr. Cullen approached you personally to say, “Thank you for your help. You’re really doing us a great service.”

He was a beautiful man, with warm eyes that seemed to be beholding the goodness in your soul, for how amiably they glimmered.

“I don’t know if I can take any credit,” you said, admittedly flustered by the attention. “It was our teacher’s idea.”

He smiled kindly. “Nevertheless, we’re glad to have you here.”

You smiled back. “Glad to be here.” Then you continued working.

When Carlisle walked away from you, he carefully kept the reluctance from showing in his expression. He sent Esme a quick text warning her that they might have another soulmate in town: a human. His initial thought was that this would be the end of it; so long as Esme avoided meeting you, she wouldn’t feel the awful desperation currently clawing its way up Carlisle’s throat, and so long as Esme wasn’t suffering, Carlisle was confident in his own ability to let you live your own life, just as he had done with Esme, at first…

But then, he knew how that had turned out for her: years of pain, mistreatment…The thought of anything of the sort befalling you…The world was so dangerous, between humans and vampires and other such things, and you, so small in comparison, so vulnerable…

Carlisle regained his composure (though, to the untrained eye, he hadn’t lost it in the first place). The world could be dangerous, yes, but his awareness of that fact was informed, in no small part, by the fact that he wanted justification for keeping you. And he couldn’t give himself such license; it wouldn’t be right.

He wouldn’t drag you away from your human life.

Perhaps he could keep watch over you, and do you small favors every now and then, but that was the most he could afford to indulge.

He heard your stomach growl from across the room; he detoured to a vending machine and bought you a light snack. (Perfectly timed, Alice texted him your preference. No doubt, she was scouring the future to see how you might fit into it; he would have to have a talk with her, to be sure she didn’t go overboard. And deciding to have a talk with Alice functioned in the same way having a talk with Alice did.)

Dr. Cullen handed you a snack from the vending machine, which puzzled you at first; it didn’t seem like the hospital was handing out food to anyone else, and even if they were, why would one of the doctors take the time for such a thing?

He answered your unspoken question with a polite smile and the words, “You were looking a bit faint; I thought you might need this.”

Had you been looking unwell? You didn’t think you felt that bad, but a doctor would recognize the signs if something was wrong, and you were pretty hungry. “Thanks,” you said, and he dipped his head in your direction. Then he and his kind smile departed.

That wasn’t the last time you met Dr. Cullen.

Your paths crossed in all sorts of places: in the grocery store, he tapped you on the shoulder once to ask if you’d dropped a hundred dollar bill, and he urged you to keep it even once you’d told him it wasn’t yours; you saw him in your school’s science building, one day (He was there to speak to one of the professors, and he asked you if you had drunk any water recently.); and you even ran into him at the library. All incidents spaced out over weeks; not close enough together to really be coincidences worth thinking about. You figured that you had probably crossed paths just as much before meeting him, but only noticed now because you knew who he was.

Anyway, the two of you remained acquaintances. He was a nice man.

When someone slammed into your car, a few months later, he was the doctor who cared for you.

“A hit and run?” he murmured, tutting in displeasure as he moved a light across your eyes. “People should be more considerate, and careful with other people’s lives. You could have been seriously hurt.”

“They probably just made a mistake and were scared of the consequences,” you offered, because the doctor genuinely seemed somewhat upset. You were trying to assume the best about the other driver, because the alternative was getting angry about something you couldn’t change. You had barely even seen the car that had hit you. You just knew that it was some shade of yellow, and apparently much stronger than yours. “I wish we’d gotten to trade insurance information or something, though; my car is apparently totaled.” Despite your best efforts, your voice wavered.

“Don’t you worry about that,” Dr. Cullen said, and you were probably delirious, but something about the decisive way he said it made it seem, to you, as if he himself planned on helping you get your car fixed. “Follow the light with your eyes.”

You did.

“Have you...” The doctor seemed to choose his words carefully. “Have you called anyone, to let them know what happened, and that you’re alright?”

“No, I guess I haven’t. The ambulance got there so fast, I guess I didn’t have time to think about it.” You weren’t terribly concerned, though; if your relatives hadn’t been made aware of the crash, then they didn’t know to be worried yet. No need to call them now.

Dr. Cullen stilled at your words, though; the light in his hands shone in the spot between your eyes and did not move. It was as if he was deep in thought. No, as if he were at war with himself.

“Dr. Cullen?” you prompted.

He quickly smiled, setting down the light. “I think you should call them. Now, if you can. I would...just feel better if someone knew where you are, and that you’re alive.”

You called them (as awkward as that felt with the doctor right there in the room, patiently waiting), and Dr. Cullen seemed to relax.

Once you were released from the hospital, you went back to only seeing him every once in a while, around town.

Your car was mended seemingly overnight, under mysterious circumstances, and a part of you jokingly wondered if Dr. Cullen was some sort of fairy godmother, or guardian angel.

Then, another month after your accident, a stranger approached you while you were walking back from your last class of the evening.

“Hi,” the stranger greeted you, somewhat apologetically. She was shorter than you, with a lovely face and spiky black hair and a spritely disposition. “I’m Alice. I’m so sorry to bother you, but could you help me carry something to my car? It’s getting late, and I really don’t want to be here after dark.”

“Oh, sure,” you answered, feeling so at ease that you forgot every warning that would normally flood to your mind about the danger of following a stranger to her car. So at ease that your mind somehow just failed to observe the taller guy standing right next to Alice, well in your field of vision. You saw him, but you didn’t really think much of him.

You followed Alice to a bright yellow Porsche, and the shade of yellow stirred something in your memory, but you couldn’t say what; you were too busy looking for what you were supposed to be helping her lift.

A lovely woman with a long blond ponytail leaned against the car trunk, staring at something that she was holding in her hand, and there was a figure sitting inside the car, too; you couldn’t see them through the tinted windows, but you saw enough to be confused as to why you had been called here to help when it seemed Alice had many potential helpers, here.

Your panic, as you began to realize the ruse, had only just begun to climb when the blond woman suddenly moved, swift as a bird, behind you, and there was a hand over your mouth and a feeling like a pinch in the side of your neck.

The thing she was holding. It was a syringe.

The tall guy (the one you hadn’t thought much of, at first) moved to open the nearest door of the Porsche; he moved the passenger seat forward, to access the back row of seats.

“Wait, stop,” you slurred against the hand (the stunningly cold hand) over your mouth, as the woman who had syringed you began to maneuver you into the Porsche with surprising strength. You were already losing control of your limbs.

“This is officially the worst thing I’ve ever done,” the woman griped as she slid you carefully inside, then climbed in behind you. You were sandwiched between her and the person you’d seen through the tinted windows: a sulking young man with bronze hair. Four strangers total, and you were in the back seat of their car.

“Thank you, Rosalie, for your help,” Alice said resolutely. “Will you drive, Jazz?”

The tall one nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat while Alice occupied the passenger side.

You struggled to find your voice, or your fists, through the haze of sedative.

“It’s okay,” said the sulking young man at your side, in a surprisingly gentle voice. “I’m able to hear you, even if you can’t speak. I can read minds.”

“The human is still awake?” Rosalie said.

“Not for much longer, but yes. You have time to apologize.”

“Sorry about all this,” Rosalie said, gently nudging your mouth closed (as it had fallen open). “Don’t be scared; we just…have to bring you to Carlisle and Esme. They’re pretty great people, and they’ll treat you really well. And these guys were going to do it anyway, so I had to come and make sure things went smoothly. Alice and Jasper can’t even administer a shot; they probably would have chloroformed you or something-”

“Wouldn’t’ve had to,” said the tall guy in the driver’s seat- Jasper, apparently. “Could’ve just lightly flicked the back of their head at the right angle. Provided Alice checked the future to make sure we did it right.”

“…and didn’t cause a concussion, or worse,” the bronze-haired one deadpanned.

There was a brief silence. You were sinking against the self-proclaimed mind reader, unable to support your own weight. You were about to sleep. You actually wanted to sleep.

“Don’t worry, Rose,” Jasper added. “I’ve made sure the human isn’t afraid.”

You supposed you weren’t. Why weren’t you?

You fell asleep before you could figure it out.

…

You awoke to the sound of agitated voices, outside the (closed) door of a bedroom that was not your own.

You were in a bed, and it was obscenely soft and pleasant, but it wasn’t yours, and you weren’t home.

Where am I?

You felt weak, and tired. Heavy, confused. But you had to stay awake, and regain your wits, because you had been taken somewhere, and you didn’t know where or why. There was a window across the room. It was nighttime outside the window. Maybe if you could make it over there, you could climb out and run for it, but you didn’t yet have the strength to even get the bedcovers off of you.

“Because it’s been awful to watch how badly it affects you to be away from your mate,” one of the voices outside the door was saying. “All five of us agreed, and we never agree on anything!”

“And it’s not like it wouldn’t have happened eventually,” another voice agreed. “Just like with Esme.”

“Exactly! You were only prolonging your own suffering, for no reason.”

There was a sigh, and a familiar voice said, “Are you all finished?” It was Dr. Cullen; that much you knew, even though you had never heard him sound so tired.

“We did it for you, because you deserve happiness.”

“And now that Esme has seen them, there is no way to undo it, is there?” Dr. Cullen asked rhetorically. “Edward, is the human awake?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll bring some food up, Carlisle,” an entirely new voice suggested. “The children have been…underhanded, today, but there’s no reason we shouldn’t make the best of it.”

“It was for the best.” (Your head was clear enough, now, that you recognized this unabashed voice as belonging to Alice.) “You’ll see.”

Footsteps approached the door, and shortly a woman entered the room. She was soft-looking, with caramel brown hair, and she held a dinner plate in her hands.

“Good evening,” she said, soberly. Sitting on the edge of your bed while you struggled to sit up. “I’m so sorry the kids did this; we didn’t ask them to, but they thought they were doing us a service. I’m Esme Cullen, Dr. Cullen’s wife. Here: eat something.”

You ate a forkful of pasta only because it was too close to your mouth to refuse. “Why ‘m I here?” you asked hoarsely. “Take me home.” Another forkful slid into your mouth.

“I’m very sorry,” Esme said. “I’m so, so sorry, but you see…the trouble is…” Her eyes scanned over you, and she smiled a seemingly involuntary smile and didn’t finish her sentence. As if looking at you was simply a much better use of her time.

“I want to go home,” you said.

Esme sighed, pressing her lips together contritely. “The trouble is, I can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to Carlisle, and Carlisle can’t bear to relinquish someone who is so important to me. I promise you, though, we will make it up to you.” She fed you more pasta.

It tasted delicious, but that did nothing to assuage your terror. “You don’t even know me. What do you mean, I’m important to you?”

Esme clicked her tongue softly and rhythmically against the roof of her mouth, as if to soothe. “Carlisle can explain that better than I. But rest assured, everything is going to be alright.”

Your skin crawled, at the dissonant cordiality. “Where is Dr. Cullen?”

You heard a flutter of what could have been footsteps, if people were capable of moving that fast. Then, the bedroom door opened again and Dr. Cullen entered.

“Hello again, dear heart,” he greeted you, and his demeanor was about the same as it was in public, or in the hospital. Respectful, polite. Maybe just a bit...off. Too much of something, maybe too polite and kind for the circumstances. “I’m terribly sorry about all of this.”

The apologies were making this worse. “You don’t have to be sorry,” you said. “Just please take me home.”

“I can’t do that, angel,” he sighed. He did appear sorry, but not as sorry as he should have. “But I can explain everything to you now.”

He sat down on the other side of the bed, opposite Esme, who was still feeding you. And he did explain everything, in such expansive detail that you fell back asleep before he even got to the part about mates.

…

“You can pretend with them, but not with me.” The voice was quiet, and not so much accusatory (despite the pointedness of his words) as reminding.

“I know that, son.” Dr. Cullen sounded positively serene.

“You knew how much time you were spending with Jasper, in your saddened state.”

“Yes.”

“You knew that we would do this.”

“I…suspected.”

“You meant for us to do this.”

“That’s enough, I think. Thank you.”

Silence fell.

You opened your eyes just a crack. The pillow beneath your face was awash with yellow light; the sun had risen, since last you’d fallen asleep. None of it had been a dream. You were still trapped in a house with these people who thought they were vampires. You closed your eyes again. The two voices had been speaking from the direction you were facing: Dr. Cullen at your level, perhaps in a chair at your bedside; and the other above, as if standing.

“One month,” the first voice suddenly added, and you weren’t sure what it was in reference to. It was as if an inaudible question was being answered.

“That’s her optimistic guess, or her pessimistic?” Dr. Cullen inquired.

“If all goes well, it will be one month. Poorly, and the longest she’s seen is three months.”

“Well, that is good to hear. I’ve waited much longer with hope for much less.”

“I know.”

You turned over, so that your back was to them, and began to open your eyes again, but then you heard Dr. Cullen rise from his seat, take up the chair, and move around the foot of the bed. You kept your eyes shut as he set his chair down on the new side and sat in it once more. He did all of this matter-of-factly, as if he’d changed sides every time you’d turned over during the night.

The thought of anyone wanting to see your face that badly made you shiver a bit.

“Awake?” Dr. Cullen inquired casually. You didn’t hear an answer, but the other man must have nodded, because Dr. Cullen continued, “Good. Esme will be done with breakfast soon. She’s so happy to be cooking again.”

“Jasper is in the kitchen with her,” the other said, as if that was a related statement somehow. “I’m going hunting. Good luck.”

You weren’t sure why, but you felt as if he was talking to you as much as Dr. Cullen.

#yandere twilight #not harry potter #yandere carlisle cullen #yandere esme cullen #male yandere #female yandere #obsession #stalker #twilight fanfiction

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oitommothetease · 3 years

Text

Invisible String (15/15)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 3.2k words

Warning : fluff, smut, Steve being nice for once, mention of assault, healthy communication, drinking, Bec is Bucky’s sister - Rebecca, talk about therapy, fucking on a dressing table, I added the link for the dressing table so it could be easier to imagine lol

Both of you were far from okay, Bucky knew that. You needed time and energy to put in this relationship, and Bucky would patiently wait and giddily put in the work required.

Just like last time all those months ago, Bucky prepared a plate of fruits with juice for you. If you'd let him in your life, then one thing was sure — you were never having that damn coffee for breakfast. How did you even survive? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and Bucky was baffled when he found out you functioned on nothing but caffeine.

“Good Morning!” he greeted, you were awake and seated on the couch. “I got you breakfast that isn't caffeine.”

You didn't meet his eyes, but smiled timidly nevertheless. You cringed at your immaturity. Getting drunk instead of having a proper conversation like adults was not your wisest decision. Your last conversation was horrid. What was worse was that he was still being so nice to you when all you wanted was for the ground to open and swallow you whole. It was embarrassing.

You avoided his gaze, and Bucky didn't press the matter any further.

You exhaled loudly and requested, “We need to talk.”

Here it was, Bucky thought. He hoped you both could at least have breakfast blissfully, ignoring the elephant in the room. But he assumed the sooner, the better. Bucky took a seat beside you on the office couch.

“I’m sorry.”

Both of you apologized at the same time. Bucky continued, “What I did was a fucked up thing to do. I had no right to decide for you. I'm sorry for hurting you.”

“I’m sorry for handling the situation immaturely. It was dumb to get drunk and act like that.”

Bucky nodded, he didn't need your apology. He was the one who was at fault here. Although, he would never acknowledge this, but he was glad you got drunk and came to him. He wasn’t smart enough to realize his mistake and if he continued with his stubbornness, then he would have lost you.

Instinctively, he took your palm in his, lacing your fingers with his and placing the entwined hands on his lap. “I — The incident with Rumlow and the kidnapping affected me a lot. More than I would like to admit,” you acknowledged, “And I don't think I’m dealing with everything healthily.”

“What do you need me to do?”

You sighed and propped your head on his shoulder. “Just be there for me.”

Bucky raised your intertwined hands, pressing a kiss on your knuckles, “Always.”

“I don't want our bakery to be just a dream,” he sounded so unsure that you raised your head to look at him. “I want to get out of this life — of the club.”

“Can you even do that?” You weren’t very knowledgeable about his business, but from what you've gathered getting out wasn't an option.

“I talked with Sam and Steve, and it would take a while, but it's not impossible. I’d have to put in a lot of money, and it will take time, maybe even years, but it can be done.”

For the millionth time, Bucky left you speechless. You didn't want him to change his entire life because of you. You loved Bucky and you would take him just the way he was. With his good and bad, albeit there wasn't anything bad. “Do you want that?”

He looked at you in offense. To him, you sounded insane. Of course, he wanted that. All he ever wanted was a serene life, and now he could have that life with you in it, you were double guessing your worth. Maybe he didn't think this through, but there was no need to question his choice. Bucky was sure of one thing in his life. “I want you. I want you in my life and I want my ma and Bec. And I can't have the most important people in my life if I don’t leave this behind. So yes, this is what I want.”

You smiled at him, and he would kill to make that smile a permanent residence on your face, you didn’t want him to make this crucial decision in his life because of you.

“Plus, maybe some chocolate essence would finally break you out of your writer's block,” Bucky teased, quoting the words you said to him all those days ago and you giggled.

The rest of the morning was spent in comfortable silence as you both ate breakfast.

Bucky wanted to tell his friends about his decision, and he wanted you there beside him. You were terrified, you finally made friends with someone, and now they were going to hate you because you were taking their friend away from him. And Steve already hated you, that wasn't the impression you were planning on forming on his best friend.

To your dismay, everyone looked pleased with the verdict. Turns out, all of them hated hiding their families too. You should have known — worrying every second about your loved ones could make one very restless.

It was finally decided that the club would just be that — a club. No more side businesses or illegal deals or enemies like Rumlow — it would just be a normal club. The club would go to Sam and Steve, and Wanda would take Clint’s place as the manager. It was also collectively decided that Peter had to go. He was just a kid who wanted to make money for his college tuition. Which now would be paid fully by Bucky. Peter could still work at the club as a part-time job, but he had to go to college too.

It was satisfying to see all of them so content with this decision. You expected at least Steve to interject, but he looked pleased too. What you did not expect was for Steve to approach you and start a conversation with you. You were just standing on the balcony while everyone was celebrating. You told Bucky you needed some air when he asked you what was wrong.

“He really likes you, you know.”

“I hope so,” you joked, and you saw a smile forming on Steve's lips. Progress, you thought to yourself.

“I haven't been the nicest person to you and I’m sorry for that.”

You looked at Steve in disbelief. Okay, you weren't expecting that. “I don’t know why you hate me. I mean, we barely know each other,” you replied, honestly.

Steve inhaled sharply as he said, “I knew Buck since we were kids. He never hid anything from me until a few months ago.”

What has that to do with you? You looked at him puzzled and he continued, “He attacked Rumlow. Around 3 months ago, he attacked him and we never attack first — always retaliate. That's why Rumlow came after you because Bucky started the fight. I knew it had something to do with you, but he just wouldn't tell me.”

And just like that, you knew exactly what he was talking about. The timing matched with Rumlow’s attempt to inappropriately touch you without consent.

“I — Rumlow came here during my shift,” you stammered, you didn't know how to tell him. You wanted to heal, you wanted people to know on your accord with your permission. And you wanted Steve to know. “I told him no - several times, but he just wouldn’t stop touching.”

You wanted to be able to talk about this without breaking down every time. And that was a good enough start, you knew Bucky would be proud of you.

Steve's expression morphed into one of guilt immediately. He was smart enough to join the dots, and he felt like an idiot for blaming you and Bucky. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don't be,” you smiled at him, “You didn't know.”

Steve didn’t know how to react. He felt like a dick — he was a dick for not even considering your point of view. Bucky kept saying that he couldn't tell and Steve should have understood or taken the hint, but he was so mad at you that it blinded his judgement.

The conversation turned uneasy, so you quickly changed the topic and retorted to a joke. “Did you know that Bucky owns a customized t-shirt that says ‘I heart Y/N’?”

Steve chortled a laugh and said, “Now that I do, I’m never gonna stop teasing him about it.”

“It was cute, okay?” you defended.

“Sure it was,” he huffed, “Would you and Bucky like to come for dinner this weekend? Sarah misses her Uncle Bucky and to date Bucky for real you would definitely need her approval.”

***

You examined yourself in the mirror as you straightened the outfit you decided to wear for dinner. You wondered whether it would impress a four-year-old.

Bucky stood behind you, fixing the collar of his shirt.

“I’m kinda nervous,” you confessed.

He furrowed his brows in bewilderment, snaking his arms around you from behind, pulling you against his chest. He whispered in your ears, sending a chill down your spine. “You look gorgeous, doll.”

You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. He gently rubbed his thumbs along your clothed stomach, and you felt calmer. His touch had that effect on you. His touch and presence was enough to make you feel content and for the first time in your life, you weren’t scared. You weren't running away from your vulnerabilities — no, you were swimming into it. And you weren't scared of drowning because you knew Bucky was holding you.

“I love you,” you breathed, “I love you so much, Buck.”

Bucky extended one of his hands towards your face and gently held your chin between his fingers. Lightly, he rubbed his thumb across your lower lip before lifting your face sideways, claiming your lips with his in a tender and slow kiss. “I love you so much, doll. More than humanly possible.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears and you kissed him again reverently, “Do we have time to spare?”

“We always have time,” Bucky mumbled against your lips, turning you in his arms to face him.

Both of you were so eager to feel each other that you didn't even get rid of your clothes completely — just enough to feel the other. He held your hips and lifted you on the dressing table, and you facilitated by spreading your legs open.

Bucky didn't waste a second before diving his tongue inside your mouth, making you feel dizzy with just the intensity of the kiss. One hand in your hair, the other running up your back to hold your neck, craning your skull to give him better access to your mouth. He devoured you like you were a delicious meal that he was starving to taste.

The hand in your hair hastened towards your breast, squeezing your covered nipple enough to make you gasp into his mouth and get your core wet. He did the same with the other before his hand continued its journey towards your cunt.

Bucky didn't waste any time — quickly, he pushed your dripped panties out of his way and his fingers teased your slit before one digit made its way inside you. His mouth left yours, and he nibbled your jaw and reached the lobe of your ear before whispering, “I’ve barely touched you and you're already so wet for me, pretty girl.”

Before you could react to his lewd words, another finger entered your willing cunt and you clenched around him. “Bucky,” you breathed, your voice barely audible with the intensity of your oncoming orgasm. “Want you now, baby.”

Suddenly, his digits retreated, leaving you empty, whimpering and clenching around nothing. He gave a few quick strokes to his already hard cock before plunging inside you and muffling your cries by crashing his lips with yours.

He gave you time to adjust to his length and when you nodded, he started thrusting in an enticing speed that had you grasping him around your cunt. Every push of his cock had you seeing stars. All that pent-up anticipation and sexual frustration had you coming in no time, but Bucky didn't relent. “Give me one more, sweet girl.”

His hand reached in between your bodies, instantly locating your clit, and you moaned loudly against his shoulder. Bucky toyed with your ear lobe, gently biting then moving downwards to the spot between your neck and clavicle. He licked before sucking harshly and then licking again to soothe the pain. You held his back so tightly that you were sure it must be hurting him, but he didn't complain, instead he growled in your ear as you tried to hold him inside you — tighter than before.

His hand was running calculated circles on your clit combined with his ruthless pace, and you were reaching your second orgasm faster than you imagined. “Bucky, I’m gonna —”

“I know, baby,” he groaned in your ear, increasing his pace, and a moment ago you didn't think that was possible.

You both reached your high together as he released his seed inside you, and that solely had you nearing your third orgasm. Bucky noticed and smirked before his still hand started running circles on your bundle of nerves again and gave you a few languid thrusts that made you reach the euphoria where you hadn't been before.

He held you, brushing your hair off your face, rubbing his thumb across your forehead to rid you of the sweat, praising you for being such a good girl for him. Once you were back from the land of bliss, he cleaned you both up before straightening your dress out — making you appear like he didn't fuck your brains out on a dressing table.

***

“Traffic,” you lied while Bucky smirked as he placed his hand on the small of your back.

Sam looked at you - both of you with a playful look in his eyes and Steve bought your lie without a second question.

As you entered the living room, you were met with a kid that reminded you a lot of Alec and Izzy. “Uncle Bucky,” she squealed before jumping in the arms of a bent down Bucky.

She stretched a hand towards you and said, “Sarah.”

You smiled at her and took her hand in yours before giving her your name. She looked at you with so much delight in her eyes that had you melting in a second. Oh, that reminded you, “Babe, the cake.”

“Oh, right,” Bucky scrambled to his feet and made his way towards the car to bring the gift you two brought for the family.

“Did you make it, Uncle Bucky,” Sarah asked as Bucky handed her the cake. She grinned when he nodded, “I’m gonna eat all of this myself.”

Bucky smiled, “It's all for you, sweetie.”

She held the cake in one hand and your hand in another before rushing into the kitchen with you.

Sam handed Bucky a glass of a drink that he didn't even notice because his gaze was fixed on you helping Steve and Sarah. You said something to Steve and he laughed loudly. When did you and Steve become friends? He wondered.

“Traffic, huh?” Sam teased Bucky once his daughter was out of their hearing range. Bucky nearly choked on the drink and coughed in embarrassment.

Sam eyed Bucky mischievously and told him to take a seat on the table. Bucky didn't listen and if he did then he pretended to ignore Sam’s words and made his way to the kitchen - to you.

You yelped when you felt two strong hands engulf you from behind, calming down only when Bucky chuckled and whispered in your ear, “Hey, it's only me, doll.”

Eventually, everyone made their way to the dinner table. The food was amazing, some of it was made by Sam - some of it by Steve. Sam’s cooking was clearly better, but Bucky told you not to tell him that because then Sam would get all smug about it. Bucky’s hand rested on your upper thigh for the entirety of the meal.

It brought you back to the time when you both were at your parents’ place and even then the gesture was so welcomed by your body and you. Although you always told him about how inappropriate a relationship with him would be, you secretly hoped that he would call you out on your bullshit. Anyone with eyes could see that you wanted him since the very beginning. Well, anyone except Bucky.

After dinner, Sarah went to bed and it was just you, Bucky, Sam and Steve situated in their living room with a drink in everyone’s hand.

“The cake was amazing,” you told Bucky when he took a seat beside you on the sofa. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer and held your outer thighs with his other before placing you on his lap. You wrapped your hands around his shoulder and awkwardly looked around at Sam and Steve, exhaling in relief when you found them busy in their own conversation, oblivious to their friend’s antics.

“I can make cakes forever for you, doll.”

“Well, you'd have to make cakes forever if you wanna open a bakery,” you sassed and he laughed before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You beamed at him, placing your head against his shoulder, “I’ve been thinking. With everything that has happened with Rumlow and my family. I think I’ve not dealt with all of it and it still bothers me.”

Nervously, you looked at him and found him already gazing at you with a look so patient and intense. You could see his adoration for you swirl around his eyes and you hoped he could see that same emotion reflecting in your eyes.

“And I don’t want to burden you with my shit, I think I’m gonna start therapy.”

He cupped your face in his palms and you looked at him anxiously. It was a big step - your relationship with him - finally acknowledging that you carried trauma that is affecting your life in more ways that you would like to admit. “Whatever you need, honey. I will be there for you.”

You leaned into his touch, craning your neck before pressing a kiss on his palm. “Did you think you'd be crazy for me when I walked in for the bartender's job?”

He laughed at your teasing words, holding your chin between his fingers and dipped his head down to kiss you. “I love you,” he mumbled against your lips, “And I have a feeling that we’ll be alright.”

“We’ll be alright,” you repeated his words. It was a promise of a happy and hopeful future - a future you were going to have with him. ”I love you.” You sealed the promise with your lips on his.

⁓

TAGS: @bananapipedreams @akkinda10 @rivers-rambles21 @emmabarnes @valsworldofcreativity @boofy1998 @marvel-3407 @mybuck @priii @coffeebooksandfandom @ladydmalfoy @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @sabrinathesimp @realgaytrash

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A/N - I had an epilogue planned but idk - this feels very complete to me and I'm scared that if I add anything then it'll ruin the end. I think I'll take a day, think it through, try writing the epilogue and if I ended up liking it. Then of course, you'll get it. Bye Take care!!

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n

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twinklelilstarkey · 3 years

Text

Stopping You [Part 10] - Michael Gray

Words: 8.9k+

Summary: Y/N’s recovery from both her feelings and her wound takes a step back after a specific night.

Warnings: Female!Reader. Mentions of wounds, a lot of blood, death and night terrors. Emotional cheating. Self-hate (discrediting their own sadness and feelings; hateful inner voice).

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

It has been a total of 24 hours.

Yesterday was a bad day. Both mentally and physically.

Polly tried her best into bringing your mood up, which worked in some way. She eased your mind by telling you that what you were feeling is completely normal, but as soon as you were alone, it was like the whole world was crashing on you.

Over crying so much as hateful questions filled your mind, you were sore at the end of the night. You contracted your muscles so much while sobbing that you could feel your wound pulsate against your skin in pain.

You questioned almost everything about your life before and after Michael left and when he reappeared. Things have changed, not just around his family, but also around you. And that seems to be one of the most confusing matters.

You never cared too much about this, but you can’t help but think about how so many things have changed since Michael came back. From your behaviors to how you function. Everything has changed in some way.

You’ve always suffered with night terrors in your life, ever since your parents left, but they were almost never about Michael. The exception being when the whole Italian/New York mafia situation went down, and Michael got injured. But other than that, it was always you, or anybody else close, that would die.

Never Michael.

You want to know what could’ve possibly awaken those thoughts and that part of your brain that makes you think like that. Could it be because you now connect him to something bad in your life? Or that when he came back, he had-

No, you’re not going there. It’s useless. It will cost you nothing pain, and it won’t grant you any answers. Might as well push that away and live your life.

Or at least try.

You bring your hot mug back to your lips and take another sip of your tea, letting your eyes fall to the ground.

Polly believes you could talk to him. Tell him about how you’ve been feeling lately. But, honestly, for what? To say that you’re falling right back in love with him just to later be thrown in the face that he does not love or feel anything for you anymore.

He. Is. Getting. Married.

It would just be simply ridiculous to do such a thing.

He doesn’t feel anything for you and that’s okay. All he feels is pity and maybe he got a little scared over you being shot, but that’s it. There are no feelings attached, no romance. No nothing. Just simply… a connection through pain, which awoke lost and forbidden memories.

Maybe this could just be your pride talking over your heart but, you just can’t believe that you’re letting yourself fall so easily. After so long of crying over him and overworking yourself to become a Peaky Blinder and just- not worry about anything in your demolished love life. All of it going to the trash because… You caught feelings for him again?

It’s disappointing to say the least.

Today, you awoke as soon as the sun made its way into the living room and since then, you haven’t done much. You walked back to your room after getting yourself a warm drink and sat by the window staring at the green grass of the neighbors’ house like it’s the most entertaining thing in the world.

A book is resting beside you. You have read a few good pages, but you can’t bring yourself to read more than 20 at a time.

Your mind is too heavy.

Voices coming from downstairs make you look away from the window and up to your door. You try your best to identify them as soon as you find them familiar.

You can hear voices and the laugher of Lizzie and Arthur. Which is awfully strange.

You scowl at the sound, and the soft patter of quick feet running around the house squeezes your heart. The kids are here too.

You rise from your seat and walk across your bedroom to the door. You open it softly and the sound of everyone’s voices is now louder. Confusion is the most prominent emotion you can feel right now, but you can’t help but welcome it better than any other one you’ve been feeling lately.

While walking down the main stairs silently, a soft gasp is heard over the loud voices. Ruby’s.

You smile at her as she spots you walking down the stairs and she quickly let’s go of her mother’s hand to run towards you.

As you’re distracted swallowing down the jab of pain at your middle while leaning down to grab her, Polly’s eyes meet you. The smile in your face is almost like a warm hug in the winter. She could get used to this sight forever.

“Look who came back from war,” Ada jokes as she spots you.

She walks towards you and her arms wrap around you as soon as you’re close enough. You lean towards her, even with Ruby on your hip, and she squeezes you in closer.

“I was so worried,” She tells you, “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

You pull away from the hug with a small smile and she gives you a wide one in return. It’s been a few weeks since you last saw her. She had left back for London not long before the whole event happened. You honestly didn’t expect to see her this soon.

As Ada moves back, everyone’s attention goes over to you. Everyone, or at least, almost everyone pulls you into a hug, sharing their words of how grateful they are from knowing that you’re still breathing.

You know they had visited you back at the hospital when you were still asleep, but nothing compares to actually seeing you move like nothing had happened. Arthur’s words, not yours.

Talking about Arthur. He was awfully apologetic while you two hugged it out. You believe he must have blamed himself for what happened, but you were quick to take that idea off his head.

You’re not about to see anybody else beating themselves for something out of their reach. Unless that’s you, of course.

Tommy and Arthur, not even 20 minutes into stepping in Polly’s home, excuse themselves and leave off to work.

The crowd in the living room doesn’t consist in much more people. Both Ada and Lizzie, and of course the kids, stayed behind and took a seat on the couch. The kids surrounded you as soon as you all sat down, while the women in front of you were distracted on talking about whatever, or rather, whoever worth of gossiping.

You listen to some of their words while being continuously pulled into conversation by Charlie as you let Ruby sit next to you, leaning to your side.

Karl is sitting closer to his mother, but looking at you and joining the conversations, nonetheless.

“What about you, Y/N?” Ada asks as she sips her tea.

“What about me?” You ask confused, obviously having no clue on what she’s on about.

“We were talking about weddings,” Lizzie explains, “Sharing our opinions on what is the best wedding. And Ada asked if you have anyone in your mind as your future husband?”

Her tone is playful more than anything. Both Lizzie and Ada expect a disgusted scowl or a roll of your eyes as an answer, but Polly can’t help but tense up against her seat at the question.

As innocent as this conversation was, it was more than powerful to push you back into your inner darkness.

“Not that I know of.” You answer, trying to mimic Lizzie’s tone.

“Oh, come on. You don’t find any man attractive?” Ada asks, putting her cup down beside her, “Not even one?”

You shake your head slowly and she stares at you with half closed eyes, almost as if she has a suspicion of some sort about your feelings towards any male presences.

“There has to be someone,” Lizzie agrees with Ada, “It’s been… what? 3 years?”

You shrug, fighting your urge to correct her since it won’t do you any justice, and the two women share a look as Polly watches all the action unfold.

“What about Finn?”

Oh god, you almost gagged right here.

Ada laughs under her breath at your disgusted yet shocked look and shakes her thoughts of that couple even be slightly real, away.

“God.” Polly scoffs out loud, making every woman rip a slight smile.

“What’s so wrong about my baby brother?” Polly asks, hands over her hips, playful grin on her face.

“Nothing is wrong,” Polly explains, “They would just be the most chaotic couple to existence. Can you imagine?”

You chuckle at her words and shake your head.

“They would burn down the church right at their wedding,” Polly jokes making both Lizzie and Ada laugh, “Probably even when saying their vows.”

There’re a few seconds of silence as the women let their giggles die down.

“Where is Finn?” Lizzie asks curious.

“Oh, Tommy has been making the boy work double the shifts now, for some reason.” Polly answers, “I don’t understand why, but they changed a lot of his shifts since their last meeting.”

“There was a meeting?” You ask confused.

Polly looks over at you.

“Yes, there was. It was only between Tommy and some of the men.” She answers with a short nod, “Nothing too important was talked about, I’m sure.”

You nod at her a little bit unsure and Charlie is quick to grab your attention back to him. He pulls you by your sleeve to look at him and he starts showing you his new toy horse, again.

You feel like you’ve seen that horse a thousand times, now.

Another conversation restarts between the women and you lean back on the couch, letting Ruby continue to play with your gold necklaces as Charlie talks his heart out about the horse that his dad gave him.

Your mind is constantly somewhere else. But this time, it focused on work. Mainly, on what the meeting could’ve possibly been about. As if any meeting with just the men was ‘not important’. They always have the most interesting meetings.

And with that train of thought, hours go by.

You were so distracted by listening to the women beside you laugh and talk, or just with looking down at the kids, that you didn’t even notice the time pass.

Your mind is still on that damned meeting, but you don’t let it get the best of you. You’re sure that the information will eventually reach you. In one way or another.

Three knocks are heard from the front door, and only Polly stands to open it. Nobody thinks too much of it. Everyone knew that eventually someone would come and pick up Ada, Lizzie and the kids.

It’s soon to be dark out, they must be almost leaving now.

“I’m sorry that we’re late.” A familiar voice sounds from the door.

Ada freezes and at the same time she looks up at you, you look up at the door. Not even 5 seconds later, Michael enters the house, followed by, of course, Gina. His blue eyes travel to the couch in the living room, and as he finds you, you’re already looking down at Charlie.

Your hand rests against Charlies’ head, smoothing his soft hair between your fingers, detangling it softly.

He forces his gaze to go back to the blonde behind him and his mother closes the front door behind them.

“Go sit. Make yourself comfortable. I’ll go make more tea.” Polly says, voice strong, not as soft as it was previously.

Ada’s and Lizzie’s eyes stay on both Michael and Gina as the couple stands in silence. They don’t find the women’s gaze as nothing more than their way to look at guests before exchanging some welcoming words, so, the tense air and shock just came unnoticed.

“Oh, hi Michael” Ada says, standing on her feet. “Didn’t expect to see you today.”

She gives her cousin a quick hug, in which he hugs back, but her eyes quickly fall on the blonde.

“And who are you?” Ada asks softly.

“Michael’s fiancée, Gina” She says with her American accent, extending her hand towards the other family member she hasn’t heard of before.

Ada shakes her hand, feeling slightly confused and shocked with her words, but, just like anyone else in this room, she’s quick to hide her emotions.

“Please, sit. I don’t want you standing all night.” Polly says to the new guests, from the kitchen door.

Michael is the first one to move towards the couches. You don’t dare to look up at him and he notices, fighting his own urge to start a conversation.

Your heart quickens the closer he gets to you and Charlie looks up at him, probably recognizing his face somewhere.

“Charlie, honey, scoot over a little.” Lizzie tells the boy.

The boy in front of you nods in response and takes his eyes off Michael. He stands on the couch and carefully steps over your lap and sits on your other side, by the arm of the couch.

Michael takes his seat next to you and you hold in your breath as your arms rest completely against one another. Lizzie moves a bit to the side and Gina sits beside her fiancée, who has his attention somewhere else.

“How are you?” Michael whispers down at you and you still don’t look up.

“Good.”

Your tone is cold and distant, which he finds extremely strange and awfully uncomfortable.

The couch is surely not large enough for 4 people, but you and Michael are having it worse than anyone else seated down on it. Lizzie and Gina have at least a few inches between themselves, while you and Michael are almost completely leaning against one another, trapped between Gina and Charlie.

Michael’s hands rest over his lap as he hears the awfully awkward conversation between the women start, not finding it at all surprising that you are paying them no absolute attention.

Ruby lets go of your necklaces for the first time and looks down at your hands.

They’re slightly sweaty over the presence of the man beside you but she pays them no mind, grabbing onto them as she eyes the expensive jewelry, surely something she loves a lot about you.

Polly comes back not too long after, and she’s quick to serve everyone another cup of tea.

You refuse any more, since you feel like you’ve already drank too much and explode your own bladder if you keep on going. And as your hand lifts to dismiss the tea from Polly, Ruby catches it.

You smile a bit at her and Michael grins slightly at the sight of the small girl being so interested in your hand. You let her twist the rings on your fingers and her gaze moves up at Michael.

His grin seems awfully contagious to her since she ends up smiling shyly at him as she continues to hold your hand up. As they do their staring contest, you look over at Charlie, who entertains himself and his mind with his new, and very loved, horse.

You sigh softly as your heart continues to beat quickly against your rib cage and you can’t tell if it’s just because you’re anxious about Michael or is it just his presence that is making you react like this.

“Have you taken your pain meds?” Polly asks.

You look up quickly as you notice that the question must be for you and a shiver runs past you as everyone’s eyes fall on you, even Gina’s.

“I will when I go to sleep.”

She gives you a disapproving look and you give her a grin in return.

“It helps me sleep.” You justify, and she sits back in her chair.

Michael grins at the exchange of words and your stubbornness and Ada notices it before continuing with her conversation.

Ruby rests your palm against hers and starts comparing both sizes.

You chuckle at her and as your body jumps at the laugh beside Michael, he looks down at Ruby to see what made you react. The small girl looks up when sensing his eyes on her and as Gina joins the conversation between the other women, Ruby extends her other hand at Michael, holding it upright.

He looks at her confused and you notice.

“She wants to compare your hand to hers.” You explain in a low whisper.

He takes his hand from his lap and extends it to her. His hands are surely bigger than yours, and that seemed to shock the small girl.

You smile as she lays her hand over his with widen eyes and Polly looks up from her tea at you, mind still on the conversation she started.

Her heart swells up at the sight. You and Michael smiling down at the girl sitting on your lap as she holds your hands up and compares them to hers. She can’t hear what you say over the loud voices and from being across the room, but she sees you saying something to Ruby, making her nod.

Michael’s smile widens at the small girl and you look up at him quickly, stealing a look before you get caught, which you don’t, not by him at least. Polly surely did, but she doesn’t say or do anything.

It’s so obvious that you still feel something for him, at least for her. But Michael seems to be unreadable, sometimes. It’s hard to figure anything out.

Gina stares at Polly while grinning at what Ada says and finds her staring at her son, she follows her gaze and clenches her jaw. The urge to roll her eyes feels stronger than her, but her bottled up rage triples at sight of you smiling.

Ruby takes her hands off yours quickly, shyly putting them close to her chest. You continue to smile down at her and as you and Michael try to retreat your own hands, she holds on to them.

Her actions are innocent, purely curious on the size of your hands, but she still leans both of your palms together, still holding them upright.

You and Michael don’t give that much of a reaction as Ruby tries to align them perfectly at the base of your palms and see the size difference from the top of your fingers.

An idea pops in your mind as your hand rests against Michael’s, and as Ruby pulls back to check the difference after so much adjusting, you slide your palm against Michael’s, so your fingers align right at the same height.

Michael chuckles at the confused look on Ruby’s face and she smiles at the contagious sound.

But as soon as the small girl notices what you’ve done, she sends you a glare, making the two of you laugh at her.

Your conjoined laughs catch everyone’s attention for a quick second and Gina doesn’t even care to take a second look. Ada smiles as she sees Ruby readjusting your palms, and, this time, it’s Michael who moves his hand, almost making his fingers only lay over half of your palm.

Ruby glares at him too and you two laugh, again.

“Alright, we’ll stop.” You tell her.

Ruby retries, but this time she has a tactic. As she makes sure that you are aligned perfectly, she holds both your and Michael’s thumb and force them to rest against the other’s back of the hand.

She leans back and stares at the difference between your hands, now happy with her achievement.

You two let her stare at the size difference with her big wide eyes, but something interrupts the sweet moment.

“Michael, honey.” Gina calls out as the conversation between everyone restarts, “Can you pass me that cup?”

Michael takes his hand off yours and you can’t help but feel disappointed at the loss of his touch. He leans forward on the couch and grabs the cup of tea for Gina from the center table, something she could easily get it herself.

You let your hand fall back to your lap and you take a sharp deep inhale, not wanting to be sitting on this couch for any longer.

You let some minutes pass, so you don’t seem like a total bitch, and when feeling ready, you lean forward on the couch, wincing in pain as your body shows to have grown sore over the lack of painkillers and from not moving at all for the past few hours.

Polly’s eyes go over to you at the sound only her seemed to notice, and you look back at her.

“I’m going to bed, I think.” You explain, making everybody get silent and look at you, “I feel exhausted.”

“Need help to find your meds?” She asks, already starting to get up, and you shake your head.

“No, no.” You hold your hand up stopping her, “Stay here. I’ll find them.”

You make sure to sit Ruby on the couch comfortably before forcing yourself up from the low couch. You fight off any sound of pain as you stand on your feet, but your face made it quite obvious.

You really should’ve taken those meds earlier.

You walk to the kitchen, trying not to show any other expression of pain, and everyone’s eyes are on you. Gina stares as you lean against the doorframe to regain your strength, yet she doesn’t feel anything in return. Not even an ounce of pity.

You stumble into the kitchen and look at the main counter, expecting the meds to be sitting right in the middle, just like you left them. But this wouldn’t be Polly’s house if they were.

Your feet get dragged as you take your time walking around to the kitchen.

You start opening every cabinet and drawer that could possibly have your meds, but there are too many to find them right away. Maybe going to bed without your meds wouldn’t be that bad.

You just need to lay down, now.

“Need help?”

You turn on your heels to find Michael by the doorway, already in the kitchen. You look away quickly back to all the drawers and try to hide any type of emotion towards his sudden appearance.

“No, I think I got it.” You answer back.

You continue to look through the many drawers and only after 2 minutes of seeing you struggle; Michael decides to move. He walks towards you and you stand still as he does so.

As he passes between you and the counter behind you, he holds onto your shoulders to make you stand back a little and let him pass. Something that surely made your skin react, but, thankfully, it all came unnoticed to him.

He opens a drawer slightly away from you and pulls out exactly what you’re looking for.

“How did you know?” You ask, curious.

“This is where she would put my meds after I got shot. It’s her drawer from stronger meds.” He explains.

How the hell did you not know that?

You walk towards him as he opens the small paper bag, taking your medicine out and handing it over to you. You take it from his hands carefully and put it down on the counter beside you.

“Thank you” You whisper at him.

You take your medicine in silence as the conversation restarts in the living room, and you try not to cringe at anything that you’re taking. Why is everything so bitter?

Whenever you’re done with one of the meds, Michael grabs them slowly and puts them back on the bag without saying anything.

He slides the drawers closed when done and you start taking the jewelry off your hands, just to start and get your way to the bed way quicker.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks and you look up at him.

“No. But I’ll be.” You say sincerely before looking away and taking a step away from him, “That’s what matters.”

Michael notices your hesitation into continuing some sort of conversation, just like your slight cold tone, but he tries his best to ignore it.

“I’m going to bed,” You announce while turning your back to him and making your way out of kitchen.

“Good night.” He says as you reach the doorway.

You send him a tight-lipped smile and walk out, back into the living room. Polly is, of course, the first one to notice you.

“Did you find it?” She asks.

“Michael did.” You answer.

You walk over to her and once close, lean over and kiss her cheek. The rest of the family distracted with something else or some other type of conversation.

Michael walks out of the kitchen and you reach the stairs, after saying a quick good night, loud enough for everyone else to hear.

You jump up the steps with your rings in your hands as you bring your cold and clammy hands to your neck to try and unclasp your necklaces. Your eyes land on Michael’s as you reach the top floor and he’s staring back.

Gina calls his name in a whisper and he looks at her, breaking your eye contact. And as soon as his eyes reach Gina’s, he doesn’t hesitate into giving her a sweet smile.

As he looks back up while walking around the couch, his eyes meet nothing but some painting on the wall.

You’re not there anymore.

(…)

The sound of birds surrounds you, their soft and energized tweeting coming from the trees far away from you and some branches above you, as the warm summer wind hits your body like a warm hug.

You shift your position on the ground, laying on your stomach and looking up at the sky between the branches high up, far, far away from you.

Solitary clouds float over the bright blue sky, almost not shielding any land from the sunlight.

Your exposed back is warm, erupting into chills whenever Michael moves his hand. You close your eyes again and let yourself relax again.

A hand touches the side of your head softly and slowly you feel its fingers start to trace your hairline. You open your eyes, blinking the sunlight away, and look up at Michael.

His hand falls to your cheek as you move and a small smile spreads over his lips.

“Let me sleep,” You whine, and he finally gives you a full smile.

“Alright,” He answers in a whisper, “Sorry.”

You sigh and hold yourself up with your hands, you push your body up on his torso and his hands go to your waist. Not caring over only wearing a dress, you lay yours legs over his hips, straddling his lap while pulling yourself up.

“I forgive you.” You whisper back playfully.

You snuggle into the crook of his neck and his smell hits you like an embrace. The small bit of communication pulled you away from your sleepy thoughts and movements, but you still felt just as clingy and slow.

As you lay back against him, his arms wrap around you, pulling you close to him with everything in him. You snuggle in to welcome his tight hold and one of his hands stretches over your skin of your back.

You’re wearing a simple black dress, baggy from your waist down, but completely backless.

“Can we lay here for, like…” You pause, “Forever?”

Michael chuckles from under you and leans his head to the side to rest it against yours.

“We’ll get hungry eventually.” He answers, and you smile.

“I’m sure there’s some animals around here.” You continue to play around, smile prominent in your voice.

“I hope you know how to make a fire, then.”

You giggle into Michael’s neck and pull away slightly. His hold loosens slightly so you can move a bit and you look down at him.

“Don’t you know how to make a fire?” You ask and he frowns.

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know” You shrug, “Weren’t you like a country boy or something?”

With that, Michael lets out the biggest belly laugh ever, leaving you to smile as he cackles away at your words. Your tone had been obviously playful, but it still made it just as funny for him.

“I lived at a farm. I wasn’t a cave man!” He exclaims, tilting his head to look at you better.

“Sounds the same to me.”

He smiles at you and you bring one of your hands to his cheek, caressing it with your thumb. You lean in and give him the softest peck you could. When pulling away, you look at him in the eyes as he tries to pull you into another kiss. You let him, letting your lips rest over the softness of his as you too fall into the pit of slow and lovingly making out.

He sits up in the middle of the kiss and you sit over his legs as he does it. His hands travel effortlessly down your waist to your legs, lifting your skirt enough to slither in his hands underneath.

You pull away and look down at him as you stand on your knees, adjusting your seating on his thighs. You peck his lips multiple times before sitting back and eyeing him.

“I love you” He confesses in a whisper, eyes staring back onto yours, “so much”

“Really?” You ask, serious, leaning a little back and he frowns.

“Yeah…?”

He’s confused, but soon your playful smile reappears.

“How much, again?”

“A lot.”

“How much is ‘a lot’?” You keep going. “Like, ‘a lot’ like the size of a mountain or ‘a lot’ as in…” You think for a second, but he interrupts.

“How old are you again?” He teases about your childish words and you force your smile to disappear, just so you can scowl at him.

“Oh, fuck off” You say to him, “I was trying to be cute here, no need to ruin the moment for us.”

“Alright, keep going then” He says, “The size of a mountain or…?”

“Uhm… The size of…” You try to think, mind completely blank over any ideas. “The size of… the ocean?”

He chuckles at your final words and you grin.

“The ocean.” He says, sure of his words, no hesitation.

You stay silent for a bit.

“Which one?”

“Oh, come on!” He says, completely bored out of this conversation, making you laugh at him, “The biggest one you can think of”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now, can you please” He emphasizes the word comically, dragging it, “for the love of God, just tell me that you love me back?”

You kiss his lips over his frown.

“You’re so romantic.” You comment sarcastically.

“I know.”

You smile at him and decide not to give in just yet. The boy can suffer for a bit.

Telling him that you loved him now or in 5 minutes won’t exactly make that much of a difference.

You stand up on your feet, away from his lap, and he stares up at you while letting out a sigh.

“You gotta earn it.” You say with a playful look, making his frown break slightly.

“Oh really?”

“Yes.” You nod.

You take a step back as he stands up and your smile doesn’t disappear at all as you move away from him. Every step forward from Michael is a step back for you, making his urge to get to you bigger.

And soon, the running around starts.

You laugh as you run from him, sometimes feeling his fingers graze over your arms, making your heart beat faster with the adrenaline.

The tall weeds slap the skin of your exposed legs softly, tickling you as you ran away from your boyfriend. The scenery in front of you motivates into keeping on running, the summery flowers all open and colorfully staring up at the sky.

All you hear is your soft steps over the plants and the birds, it gives you peace. You can still hear Michael running behind you.

You let out a giggle as he’s about to touch you and out of nowhere, it stops.

The warm breeze lifts into a cold one and you look around confused.

You know that the weather can be unpredictable, but this is too radical for it to make sense.

Your hands start getting cold rapidly and soon your body is enveloped into complete body chills, your dress being nothing but useless when it comes to make you stay warm.

The breeze goes from cold to freezing in the matter of seconds, leaving you nothing but panicked.

You feel lightheaded and short of breath and as you try to warm yourself up with your own arms, soon you realize… You can’t feel your own palms touching your skin.

The sunlight fades as clouds fly their way in to color the skies a dark grey and you stare up.

You’re in a dream.

You’re dreaming.

You look over your shoulder at Michael to find him just as confused just a few steps away. He must have stopped running right as you did. But his skin, is not reacting like yours. His exposed arms, from the folded sleeves are not reacting to the cold in chills. It’s like it’s not affecting him.

He’s not the real Michael.

“What’s happening?” He asks you.

“I don’t know” You lie. You know exactly what’s happening.

Your dream is becoming a nightmare.

You look around as the wind gets harsher and your heart starts to beat more violently, just like your shortness of breath forces you into panting your way to find your peace again.

You step closer to Michael and cup his face.

He stares back at you still with his confused eyes and you kiss him. Your lips touch his and his hands come to rest over your waist as the wind continues to come at full force towards you.

Your hands feel numb, not being able to feel the texture of his suit, just like you had felt a few minutes prior. But you feel his hands, the way they rest on your waist, warming your skin under the violent and freezing wind.

“I love you,” You tell him as you pull away.

You open your eyes and you’re met with Michael’s pale face. His eyes are empty, with absolutely no light or sign of life.

You caress his cold cheeks with your thumbs, and you notice blood over his bottom lip. His hands had fallen a second ago from your waist, and you already miss his familiar warmth.

You bring your finger to wipe the blood away carefully and notice that it’s all over his mouth, coloring his white bottom teeth.

A small trail of blood starts falling off his nose and soon from his ears as well, slowly coloring your hands into the color red.

Red, hands completely filled with deep red, now that you try and wipe it.

Michael falls onto his knees and you do the same, holding him close to you even though it’s just his corpse. He’s cold and his hold is not even there anymore. His arms are by his sides as his head rests over your shoulder.

You wrap your arms around him, and the wind becomes more and more violent.

You force your eyes closed and let it take you too.

You open your eyes, and a loud gasp escapes your mouth. You’re not panting anymore, but your heart is beating quickly.

You try to sit up, but a sudden jab of pain hits you. You gasp and wince in pain but still bring yourself to do it. A sob escapes your mouth too right as you’re able to sit upright.

Your face feels wet and cold in the air of the room. You must have been crying before you woke up.

You whine in pain as you bring yourself to turn on the light beside you and as the warm yellow light illuminates the room, all you see is blood.

Your own blood, spread around your white shirt and white sheets, painting your hands just like in your dream.

“Pol-” You try to call out, but your voice breaks in a sob as pain runs through you.

You sob into the empty and silent air and try it again.

“Polly!” You sob out loud, hoping that that was enough to awake her if it’s late enough for that.

You wait a few long seconds for any sound coming from the hallway or stairs, but nothing.

“Polly!” You try to scream louder.

Polly holds her hand up to shut up Gina and the room falls silent. Michael leans forward from the railing of the stairs and looks at his mom confused; arms still crossed over his chest.

“Poll-” You cough.

Michael, before Polly could even get up, makes his way up the stairs and runs down the hall, trying his best to be fast enough to get to your room.

Your door swings open and you continue to sob as the lights are turned on.

“I don’t know what I did wrong.” You sob to whoever is at the door, staring down at your hands, “I-I, I woke up and…”

Michael shakes his shock away at the sight of your bed all bloodied, just like your hands, and walks towards you. His eyes fall to your shirt and notices from where your blood is coming from, your wound.

“Mom!” Michael shouts while looking up at the door.

Your ears start to buzz as panic starts to set in in your system and two hands move yours away from your eyes.

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” The voice repeats and you sob helplessly.

Michael sits in front of you in the bed and brings you close to him, ignoring that he’s now being covered in blood as well.

He makes you rest your hands on his shoulders so that they’re away from your eyes and starts to unbutton some of the buttons of your shirt.

Polly finally gets to the door and the sight is absolutely terrifying.

“She ripped stitches. I think.”

Polly forces herself to walk to the bed and to help Michael check your wound. He continues to unbutton your shirt with one hand only and he’s quick to rip the bandage off.

You sob in pain as he does it and both him and Polly try to look past the blood and ignore your sobs to see what happened to your wound. It opened, maybe 3 of the 9 stitches ripped.

“I’ll call the doctor.” Polly says.

Michael nods and holds you closer to him, not wanting you to move too far away. Your side rests against his chest and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, while one of his hands grabs the sheets and holds them over the wound.

You sob silently while leaning closer to him and he looks up at your face.

“Hey. You’re okay, look at me.” He whispers at you and you do it, “You’re okay. It’s not too bad. You’re safe. I promise.”

You stare at him in the eyes and he leans his forehead against yours.

“You’re okay” He whispers lower.

You nod as tears continue to roll down your face and he nods with you. Your breathing starts to slow down, and he presses a kiss over your wet cheek.

“I got you.” He whispers against your skin.

(…)

Michael sighs loudly as he walks into the kitchen and he feels exhausted.

“Is the doctor finished?” Polly asks him and he just nods, “And her?”

“Passed out before he could even start” He answers, “The doctor said to just let her sleep.”

He walks towards the sink and he turns on the water, holding his bloody hands under it. The two women standing in the kitchen are silent, watching him wash his hands carelessly while staring at the wall.

“I’ll go get you a clean shirt.” Polly says.

His mom walks out of the kitchen and he turns off the water, turning around to face Gina.

“Are we going to the hotel after this?” She asks softly.

“I can drive you there, but I’m staying here, tonight.”

She takes a deep breath and brings her hands to her head, annoyed.

“Why? She’s asleep. You can visit her tomorrow.” She tries.

“I’ll sleep better here.”

She scoffs.

“You’re fucking unbelievable.”

“I’m unbelievable?” Michael answers, bringing his hand up to point at his own chest.

“Yes!” She almost screams, “You are unbelievable! And you want to know why?” She asks, “Because no matter what I fucking do or fucking say, you will always put her before me.”

“Always, Gina? Are you serious?” Michael asks in disbelief, “You’ve been my fucking priority ever since we met, and now because I show some sort of affection towards a girl that is fucking bleeding and crying her lungs out, I’m supposedly putting her before you?”

“Yes! I don’t even know what you had with her before me!” She shouts, “Ever since I step foot into this shit hole I’ve been listening to her name and seeing her over and over again. Do you really think I believe that she’s simply a ‘family friend’?” She air-quotes.

“You want the truth?” He asks, no shouting needed, but he sounds mad.

“Yes.”

“We dated for 4 years, almost 5. I ended our relationship when in America.” He answers and Gina stands silent, “See? I can tell you the truth when you ask nicely.”

“And if you broke up why do you still like her?” She asks, ignoring his hateful tease at the end of his sentence.

“You have to be joking-”

“Are you going to say that that’s a lie?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest, “Let me give you some of my truth, Michael. I honestly don’t give a shit about what you two went through, or if you were in a good relationship or not when with her, but you broke up. I don’t care why, but you did. And there was a time when you chose me over her. That’s why you proposed, right?”

Michael doesn’t answer her.

“So, please, for the love of God, stop being a child and move on with your life. You’ve been mopping around her, touching her all the time as if you’re dying to do it at every second of the day… Even if she does still like you, you are with me now, not her.” She spits at him, “Move. On. She’s not yours anymore, Michael. I am.”

He swallows hard at her words and looks at her emptily.

Polly makes her way back inside the kitchen, acting as if she didn’t hear a thing, but that seems to not scare off Gina from continuing.

“Are you even listening to m-?”

“I am.”

“Then say something, Michael.” She scolds, “Is it not true, what I’m saying?”

Polly looks between them as if waiting for it to evolve in any way, and simply extends her hand towards Michael, so he can grab the clean shirt.

“Is she your priority or no-”

“Yes.” Michael answers, “Y/N is my priority.” He nods, sure of himself and his words. “Yes, I’m engaged to you, Gina, but I care for her, and she will always be my priority.”

Gina bites her tongue and looks at Michael.

It honestly comes to no surprise. She had just thrown these words at him not that long ago, at lunch. He had just never confirmed it for her, and now… he did. But ‘always’? You will always be his priority? Now, that, doesn’t sit right with her.

They stand in silence and Michael leans back on the counter, finally taking the shirt from his mom’s hands. He thanks her with a look but to no avail because her eyes are not even on him.

“You’re serious?” Gina comments in slight disbelief.

“I am.” Michael confirms.

“What does that mean for us, then?” She asks.

Michael stays silent and the blonde slides off the highchair she has been sitting on, standing on her heels. Her eyes stay on him as tears threaten to swell up at her eyes.

“I’m not sure.” Michael answers truthfully.

She nods at his words and brings her eyes to the ground. She feels disappointed but mostly betrayed. Her eyes are good to show that emotion, but soon, it evolves into something else. Pure anger. Anger over the betraying words and truth, the one that just got thrown around as if it was nothing.

And Polly notices it.

“I think it’s better if you leave, Gina.”

Michael takes his eyes off his fiancée to stare at his mother, who just opened her mouth. He didn’t expect her to get herself involved in his worries, but she did.

“What?” Gina asks, bringing her head back up to stare at Polly.

“You heard me.”

Her eyes travel to Michael in hopes that he would defend her, but nothing. He’s just staring back at her, almost holding the same look as his mother.

He doesn’t want her here. He wants her to leave.

She shakes her head, overcome with emotion, and forces her feet to move. Her palms tingle with the idea of hitting something, or rather, someone, but her eyes fill with tears.

How could have she been so stupid?

She slams the front door shut behind her and the Gray family stand in the kitchen unphased.

“Rather dramatic that one, uh?” Polly asks her son.

Michael doesn’t answer her venomous comment, but that didn’t seem to surprise her. His mother walks around the counter and grabs the cup Gina used for her whiskey, bringing it to the sink so she can wash it.

It’s like this conversation didn’t affect her a slight bit.

Michael feels weird. He doesn’t regret telling Gina anything but the look she gave him spoke more than any of her words could. She felt betrayed by him, and she was holding back so many emotions and words.

He knows that if it wasn’t for his mom, Gina would be screaming at him, maybe even throwing stuff at the walls. Just like she usually does when she’s upset. But she didn’t do anything, she decided to contain herself and not scream or even curse him out.

And honestly, Michael doesn’t know what’s worse. The fact that she could be destroying his mom’s kitchen or the fact that she’s bottling up all her frustration and anger.

He thought he knew Gina before coming back home, but the trip only made him and her show their true colors. One can’t stop comparing his newfound love to his old one, and the other obsesses over the idea of power and desperately wanting to overthrow anyone in her way.

Quite a pair, that’s for sure.

(…)

You open your eyes as the lights burns your eyelids open and an involuntary groan runs off your mouth as you’re hit with the morning light right in the face. You turn your head to the side, but you’re met with another window with the curtains open.

“Fuck.” You curse out loud.

You sit up and another sound escapes your mouth, but this time, a whimper of pain.

It takes you a few seconds to connect the dots and you finally remember why you’re in pain in the first place.

“Jesus Christ.” You comment to yourself, again.

Your bloody sheets are set to the side, right next to your door, and before your mind could even try to process it, you push any thoughts of your nightmare away from you.

You pull yourself up carefully and try to ignore the tightness that you feel over your wound. You’re not quite sure what happened after the doctor appeared, but if you’re still at Polly’s house, it could only mean one thing…

It’s not as bad as it looked.

You walk to the bathroom and the sight that meets your eyes is, just, great.

Your shirt is mostly unbuttoned, bloodied, just like your bra. Some of your skin has been cleaned, but not all. Your face as some blood smeared on it, but it doesn’t surprise you. You remember moving so much when you woke up, it would be a miracle it your feet would be clean.

You throw the clothes into the bin and start cleaning yourself off. You can’t exactly bath over having to make the wound be dry at all times. But you have been able to manage quite nicely. With weird positions, for sure, but you’re able to wash your body and hair quite nicely.

You put on some washed clothes on and make your way out of the bedroom. It must be really early since the house is more than silent.

Before you walk down the stairs, you walk over to the guest’s room just to check. Finn is laying on his back over the large bed, mouth partly open as some light snores escape his lips, making you smile at him.

You take a step back and close the door back up. He must’ve gotten here after the doctor.

You make your way down the stairs easily, and as soon as your eyes land on the couch, you see Michael.

He’s awake with a mug on his hands, eyes on the carpet as he is completely lost in thought. He has a scowl over his face, hiding any kind of emotion from anyone’s eyes, and as your feet finally meet the last step, he looks up.

His scowl disappears and a slight grin appears over his lips.

“Good morning.” You say before he could.

“Good morning.” He answers back.

You walk towards him and he watches you as you carry yourself with ease over to the couch. You take a seat next to him and notice that his mug is still filled with warm coffee.

He extends the mug your way when noticing your interest and you smile, taking it.

“Thank you.” You whisper.

The hot mug burns your cold palms, and you welcome the almost uncomfortable heat into your skin. You bring it to your lips and take a small sip of the dark liquid.

You’re sitting close to Michael, sitting on top of one of your legs as you sit looking at him. You’re not wearing much more than a shirt, exposing your legs to him and to anyone in the house, but you don’t seem uncomfortable with your lack of clothing.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks and you bring the mug down from your mouth, licking your lips at the same time.

“Yeah” You nod.

You give him back his mug after taking your generous sips and he takes it back onto his hands.

“When did Finn get here?” You ask him, curious.

“About half an hour after the doctor left.” He answers, leaning forward to put down the burning mug on the coffee table, finding it impossible to drink from how hot it is, still.

You nod at as his answer and while you’re thinking about what else to ask, he speaks again.

“You scared the living shit out of us last night.” He says, making you look back at him.

His eyes are back on the carpet and your chest tightens at the sight.

“I’m sorry.” You apologize.

“Don’t.” He says, finally looking back up, “It’s not your fault.”

He leans back on the couch and both of you continue to look at each other. The air is not thick as it usually is, it’s light and easy to breathe in. Your looks are both familiar, always taking your minds back in time for a quick second.

Your mind takes you to your dream and soon his pale face reappears in your mind. You shake the thoughts away, right as Michael opens his mouth to talk.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, “I can make you something to eat.”

You smile widely at him and bring your hands to your lap.

“Are you finally proving yourself useful around the house?” You tease, making him smile back, “I must be in a dream. Since when do you-”

“I’ve always been able to cook” He defends himself.

“Yeah, right.”

“It’s true!”

“Michael, you couldn’t even cook potatoes!”

“Couldn’t!” He says to you, leaning forward to be right in front of you, “Things have changed in my kitchen.”

A laugh escapes your lips as he smiles down at you and he stands from the couch. He gives you his hand and as soon as your palms touch, he pulls you up from the couch.

“Come on, I’ll show you my experienced cooking.” He encourages as you take small, demotivated steps his way, “Do you want me to make you potatoes, just so I can prove my point?”

“No.” You giggle, “Just- Do whatever.”

He turns around and starts walking to the kitchen, letting your hand fall from his as you stay a little behind.

“You know what?” You ask him as you get in the kitchen, making him look back at you, “Maybe you’re not as insufferable as I thought you were”

Michael laughs at your words as you say them, and he nods.

“Oh, why, thank you!” He says enthusiastically, “Aren’t you lovely right as the sun rises?”

You let out a loud laugh and he moves over behind the island counter, looking around the cabinets to look for something to cook for you.

You stare at the back of his head as he walks around and take a seat on one of the chairs.

One could get used to this.

Taglist: @ohhersheybars @woodland-mist @onlythechicagoway @soleil-dor @finn-shelbys-bulldog @oh-theres-a-woman @peakyxtommy @ms-reader @beautycinders @lovemissyhoneybee @graceedwards @jadesbabylon @marvelismylifffe @a-dorky-book-keeper @peakascum @shanetoo @hufflemendes @cherrytop02 @http-cherries @burnitup @livingforbarnes @iccyyyybitch @ravennaofasgar @carezzesuigraffi @fernweh-fangirl @hufflepeople @huskyhunny @desertgremlin @fireawayxx @lemur46 @sugarcoated-lame @i-sneeze-to-appease @gabytodd @cococola-cocaine @namelesslosers

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Hope you enjoyed this! If would like to make any questions about the characters or when the next part will be available. My ask box is always open.

#michael gray x reader #michael gray #michael gray imagine #michael gray imagines #michael gray fic #michael gray fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #finn cole #finn cole x reader #finn cole imagine #finn cole imagines

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Caffeine Rush: Prologue / Red Eye

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Javier gets sent back to the US after he messes with Los Pepes. The coffee shop he chooses to visit may change his life.

W/C: 760

Warnings: language, mentions of canon-typical violence for Narcos

A/N: WELCOME TO CAFFEINE RUSH! Javier doesn’t meet the reader in this prologue, but I am so excited for you guys to fall in love with this story like I have! Thank you so much to my trusty beta readers- as always, you know who you are. This story is going to dive into Javier’s life if he didn’t go to Laredo between seasons 2 and 3 of Narcos, and it heavily relies on past events- you may get a little lost if you haven’t watched the show itself, but this prologue is intended to give you most of the information you need. This is a play on a coffee shop AU, as I’m a barista myself and I’ve always loved this idea. Every chapter will be named after a different coffee house drink!

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Redeye: Brewed coffee with added espresso. Meant for quick caffeination and energy; derives its name from a redeye flight, an overnight flight to get quickly from one place to another.

He is really, truly, 110% fucked, Javier thinks to himself. He’s almost certain he’s about to lose his job, and he isn’t sure he can talk his way out of it. He knew it from the second he looked at his ticket, flight 464 from Medellín to D.C., that it was real and it was going to go terribly.

Javi fucked around with Los Pepes, a radical group who did terrible things to scare Escobar into submission. To be fair, he thinks to himself, they approached him first and gave him no options. But what did he have to lose other than himself? It’s just him down there in Colombia, his apartment lonely and cold, a bachelor pad. He’s not like Steve: he doesn’t have a wife or a daughter or practically anything to lose other than his life. He could’ve put the small price of his livelihood at stake if he had to.

But he didn’t, and now he may lose the other most important thing to him: his job. He’s a damn good agent, and he knows it. His partner, Agent Steve Murphy, probably wouldn’t agree to Javier’s face, but he’d acknowledge it anywhere else. He’s dedicated, willing to bend the rules to get what’s necessary. He puts his job before everything else in his life. He sleeps around, avoiding attachments, drinks too much, and smokes an unhealthy amount of cigarettes, but it’s rare that any of those things come before his duties as a DEA agent.

He paces around the hotel room provided for him. He’s here, in Washington, D.C., for a hearing in front of some of the most important people in the DEA. He’s done lots of bad things to get information, but this is the first time he’s facing real consequences. He’s been pulled from the field and sent up here, away from his partner and his work and far from Escobar. They were getting closer and closer by the day, and Javier is 2,257 miles from Medellín.

He’s been up all night, doing anything he can to keep his mind off of the inevitable. Bits and pieces of a night’s sleep found him while he tossed and turned on the lumpy mattress. His meeting is this afternoon, and he groans as the clock on the nightstand reads it to be 10:32 A.M. He can’t keep pacing in his room like this. He needs some coffee, he decides. He’s barely functioning from the maybe three hours of sleep he got last night. The hotel had some shitty, watery stuff brewed in the lobby, but he tried it earlier and found it to be disgusting. He needs something good.

Javier pulls on some of the casual clothes he managed to pack before being rushed back to the states: a khaki green button-up and his normal tight jeans. He pulls on his shoes and jacket and instinctually reaches for his gun and badge on the nightstand, wincing as he finds it to be empty. Right. Forgot about that part.

He leaves his room after he slips his wallet and key card in his pocket, taking the elevator down to the lobby. It’s odd to be in America again after so long, even if he was born and raised here. Everyone speaks English, and he almost asks the question in Spanish, catching himself as he rehearses it in his head. There’s a pretty young thing at the reception desk, and Javier puts on a charming smile even though he feels like a flaming piece of shit on the inside. “Hey. Any good cafés around here? No offense, but this coffee tastes like shit,” he says and gestures to the two large carafes- one decaf, one regular- on a nearby table. “I need a local’s tastes,” he says, leaning on the counter of the desk.

The pretty blonde girl blushes at his attention. “Three blocks down and two to the left, that’s my favorite place. They’ve got some good espresso.”

Javier nods. “Thanks, honey,” he says and pats the desk, standing upright again and heading off to exactly where he said. The smile drops the second she can’t see him. It’s an easy facade for Javier to pull, one he does quite often when he needs to charm his way into a bed.

Hands in his pockets, he follows her directions, finding a coffee shop just where she sent him. He opens the door and is flooded by the smell of coffee, relaxing him slightly. Nothing some caffeine couldn’t fix, he tells himself as he sighs and walks to the counter, grabbing his wallet from his pocket. A woman stands there, and he offers her a smile. “What’s the strongest thing you can give me?” he asks. “I’m gonna need it.”

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @sara-alonso @yooforia @pedrosmustache @linnie0119

#javier peña fanfiction #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #caffeine rush #pascalpanic

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seiyasabi · 3 years

Text

Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

(This is a Yandere Pakunoda x Female Reader story! To be completely honest, she could trip me down some steps and I’d still UWU!!!

TW; Reader is lowkey easy to manipulate so that may be annoying!, babies you alot !!!!, Manipulation!, !Use of a strap!, Consensual sex!, Use of a Mommy kink!!, light domming!, Stockholm syndrome!!!!, etc.

Please proceed with caution! If this is too OOC, I apologise! She’s lowkey a comfort character for me lol)

“Look at my pretty girl, so precious,” Your blond lover pinches your cheeks lightly between thumb and forefinger, a flush coating your cheeks. Currently, you’re sitting in her lap, trying to make up for lost time. She recently got back from a ‘work trip,’ and it seems like you both missed each other very much.

“Paku,” You gasp, feeling her remove her hand from your face, only to settle them on your ass. She squeezes lightly, chuckling at your surprised face.

“What is it? Can I not touch my beautiful wife?” Smiling bashfully, you bury your head in her plush chest, cuddling close to her. You want to be on her good side, especially when you wish to ask her for something that she’s sure to become angry at.

“Paku, can I- can I ask you a question?” She reaches a hand up to caress the back of your head, a light smile gracing her features.

“Of course,” Pakunoda murmurs absentmindedly, cradling you closer than before.

“Is it ok if I top tonight?” Your fingers fiddle with her shirt, as you avoid eye contact. Her chest rumbles with her chuckles, reaching a hand up to grab your chin, she forces you to look her in the eye.

“My darling pillow princess wishes to top tonight?” Raising a perfect eyebrow, she continues to laugh, “Don’t be ridiculous. You belong under me, Sweetie, not above me. Look at you, you can’t even look me in the eye whilst asking.”

You flush in embarrassment, trying in vain to move away from her, “Never mind, then,” You pout, crossing your arms over your chest. Paku practically coos at your adorable expression, quickly flipping you so your back is now on the mattress. She straddles your thighs, her hands quickly starting to unbutton your pyjama shirt, exposing your bare chest.

“Look at your pretty chest,” She cradles your (size) tits, smiling at your bashful face.

“Paku-“ She gives you a stern look, causing you to whine, “Mommy, why won’t you let me? I just wanna try!” She chuckles some more, lightly pinching your nipples.

“No, Baby. You know that you’re a pillow princess at heart, just let Mommy take care of you,” You give a final huff, before nodding.

“Fine,” You pout a little longer, before giving her a pretty smile, “I missed you.”

She gives your tits another squeeze, “I missed you too, Sweetie. Now, let me show you just how much I yearned for you.”

Her slender hands lightly pull on the sleeves of your shirt, helping you out of its long sleeves. Your top half is now completely exposed, causing her eyes to glint in predator-like glee. Moving to your spandex clad thighs, Pakunoda can’t help but love how the slightly too-tight shorts cause the fat of your thighs to squish out. She lightly pinches it between two manicured fingers, making you gasp prettily.

“So adorable for Mommy,” She ghosts over your covered mound, pulling at the fabric so it can bunch up in your slit, “Is my sweet girl not wearing any panties?” You cover your face with your hands, trying to cover your blush.

“Yes, Mommy,” She releases the spandex to uncover your face, placing multiple smooches all over it.

“Dirty girl,” The blond smiles down at you, pushing your hands down on the mattress by your head, “Keep these here, Sweetie. If you move them, I’ll have to punish you.”

You nod rapidly, not moving your wrists from that spot, “Yes, Mommy,” Her hands trail down your sides, lightly pinching down on some spots. Once at your waist, she grips the hem of your shorts, before shucking them down your legs.

Paku can’t help but salivate at the sight of your bare cunny. Running a slender finger up your slit, she collects your juices, and holds it up to show you, “Look at this! Has my little Baby played with her pussy without her Mommy?”

You shake your head no, a pleading look on your innocent face, “No, Mommy! I promise! I haven’t touched myself, I’m just excited to see you!” She sticks the slick covered finger into her mouth, tasting your essence. Her eyes practically roll to the back of her head, you taste wonderful.

Gazing down at you, she smirks, “I believe you. But, I have to make sure my Baby doesn’t touch herself, don’t I? What do you want, Sweetie? Do you want Mommy’s strap? Or maybe a cute, little vibrator on your pretty cunny?”

“I want your strap, Mommy! Please fill me up!” At your words, she shoves two finger into your wet pussy, immediately fucking them into you with a ‘come hither’ motion. A surprised moan escapes your throat, causing your Mommy to chuckle.

“Don’t act too surprised, Sweetie. Mommy needs to open you up before she fucks you,” Her thumb rests on your clit, rubbing insync with her ministrations. Your cunny practically gushes around her fingers when she finds your g-spot, causing her to focus on that one spot.

Your moans and cries are music to Pakunoda’s ears, and he can’t help but bring you into a heated kiss. Her tongue massages yours, swapping your spit with each other. Her soft lips mold with yours, swallowing your noises down. The feeling of her fingering your cunny and her plush lips on yours causes you to orgasm prematurely. Your juices squirt out like a geyser, soaking her hand, pelvis, and sheets below you.

Separating from the kiss, you look down at you and your now soaked wife with a gasp, “I’m sorry! I promise I didn’t do it on purpose-” She shushes you softly, looking down on you tenderly.

“It’s alright, pretty girl,” She reaches down to her now soaked plum coloured mini-skirt, zipping it open, and sliding it off of her frame. Her black lace panties are now exposed to you, as she quickly strips out of the rest of her outfit. Her large breasts now exposed, he grins down at your flushed form, “You just helped Mommy strip faster,” She kisses your forehead, “And you looked so sexy squirting all over me, I’ll make sure you do it again when I fuck your cunny open.”

She shifts towards your bedside table, opening the bottom drawer, and fishing out her double sided strap-on. She sets it on your shared bed, before shutting the drawer, and turning her attention back onto you.

“Mommy, can I please taste you? Please” She chuckles at your eagerness, but shakes her head. Paku strokes your head tenderly, giving you another kiss.

“No, Sweetie. I’m supposed to be pleasuring you, not the other way around. How could I be your Mommy if I let you raise a single finger? Hmm?” Pouting, you nod in understanding.

“Can I please have another kiss?” The blond smiles, nodding yes.

“Of course,” She gives you a long, closed lip smooch, before sitting up tall, and sliding off her panties. Once off, she eases a long finger into her soaked pussy. She slowly fucks herself open, easing in a second, then a third. Keeping her moans to a minimum, she grinds down on her hand, creating an erotic scene above you.

Her juices drip onto you, running down the curves of your hips. Once she deems herself wet enough, Paku grabs the strap, untying the sides like a swimming suit. Lining up the inside dildo with her dripping pussy, she pushes it inside with a small moan. Now fully seated on the dildo, she ties the strings of the harness, and shifts farther up your pelvis. Grabbing a black remote from the top of your bedside table, she turns on the vibrating function of her dildo, immediately stimulating her gummy walls. Using all of her self control, she tries not to moan.

“Are you ready, little one?” You glance down at the plum coloured cock, you gulp. You’d forgotten how big her strap was. It has many bulging veins, a very thick girth, and it is about eight inches long, “Is baby scared?”

“No, Mommy. Please, I want it! I want it so bad!” She grins down at you, and quickly slots her lower half between your thighs, her own thighs above yours. Using a free hand, she guides the cock to your weeping entrance. With one powerful thrust, she seats the entire thing inside your pussy. A loud whine rattles your chest, as you try to adjust to its size.

“Is my baby’s cunny full?” She bucks her hips into yours, causing your clit to rub against the leather of her strap. A pitiful moan escapes your mouth, causing Paku to laugh, “Awe, you’re already so fucked out, and I barely did anything.”

You whimper out a, “Please, Mommy,” Prompting her to pull out until only the tip is inside, before slamming down her hips again. Hearing you keen in pleasure is enough to cause her to fuck into you violently.

She sets a hard, fast pace, your juices flying everywhere. Practically humping into you, Paku grinds the tip into your cervix, causing another gush of slick to splash out of your poor cunny.

“You’re taking me to good, Sweetie,” Paku’s own juices coat the inside of her harness, as she tries her best not to cum at the sight of your fucked out face.

“Mu-Mommy!” She starts pinching at your tits, rolling them between her fingers, whilst propelling her hips into your at rapid pace.

“Yes? Is there something you need?” She teases, not stopping for a single moment.

You can feel the coil in your tummy tightening, signalling your oncoming release. Tears stream down your face at the intense feeling of pleasure, as you practically scream, “Please, please let me cum! Please!” She places a kiss on your drooly lips, squeezing the fat of your tits in both hands.

“Hmm, I don’t know, should you cum? Have you been a good baby for Mommy tonight?” You practically sob at her words, trying to stop your orgasm.

“Yes, yes! I-I’ve been good! Please! Please!” Dropping a hand down to your clit, she starts rubbing against your nub in hard, fast movement, mirroring her thrusts.

“Go ahead, Sweetie, cum for Mommy!” With a loud cry, you cum. Your orgasm is so great, that your squirt launches the dildo out of your slick cunny, smacking against Pakunoda’s stomach, and launching her into her own orgasm. Her own moan is heard throughout the room, as she brings you into another heated kiss. It’s all tongue and spit, but it’s amazing, nonetheless. Whilst doing so, she flicks off the constant vibration inside of her, giving her relief from overstimulation.

Breaking away from your mouth, she huffs out a small chuckle, “You’re so pretty, all fucked out and adorable.”

You can barely keep your eyes open at this point, but you dutifully anwer her, “Thank you, Mommy,” She lightly pinches your cheek, smooching your forehead.

“Go ahead and sleep, I’ll take care of you,” Nodding, you almost instantly nod off.

Pakunoda smiles to herself, as she looks down at you. You’re her picture perfect darling, so sweet, pretty, and kind.

She almost feels bad that she manipulated you into dropping everyone you knew. You always trust so freely, and unfortunately for you, you trusted the wrong person. Now, the only person you talk to is her, and when she’s off on missions, you’re practically in solitary confinement. The only difference is that you’re able to freely move around your shared apartment.

But, she knows that you’ll never leave her. You’re too in love with her to ever do something so silly. You also know of her profession, so it would be foolish to run away. If she can’t find you, then one of the Spiders can.

Sighing in content, Pakunoda stands to her feet.

It’s time to clean you up, seeing as only she can properly take care of you, because your cute baby self already passed out.

Giving your head a light pat, she stalks off to the ensuite bathroom, carefully untying the harness tied around her waist.

#yandere pakunoda #pakunoda x reader #yandere hxh #hxh x reader

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liquid-luck-00 · 4 years

Text

Habits

Bio!Dad Bruce

Day 4: Habits

@biodad-bruce-month

First ~~~ Previous ~~~ Next

~~~~~~~~~~

The bat boys went out of their way to make Marinette feel included into the family. However she seemed to always get lost in the manor. Little did they know that she was using the horse miraculous to travel to and from Paris and still hasn't had enough practice with Kaalki.

Yet when they do happen to find her she seems to always be lost in thought while sketching or designing.

They had noticed early on that they could still hold a conversation with her and she would respond and remember the conversation.

---

Marinette hadn't been at the manor for two days when the first incident occurred.

It was Jason who first caught her completely focused and to say it was a shock was an understatement. He had walked into the living room, trying to find her and Tim to play Mecha strike, so when he saw she was designing and Tim was sitting on the other couch reading.

"Hey Replacement, Bluebell who wants to play UMS III?" Jason asked the room.

"I'll play," Tim responded looking up from his book. Both boys then looked at Mari, who seemingly didn't hear them. Tim got up and walked over to her along with him. While

Marinette seemed to be hyper focused on her design that she didn't respond when Jason asked her again. So Jason decided it would be smart to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. That was a bad idea. . He had snapped her out of her thoughts, but as he did she glared at them.

"Holy Fuck" Jason screamed as he backed away from her.

"What is wrong with you. You break my concentration and then scream. Like seriously Jason." She was holding her head covering her ears while glaring at him.

That was when Tim seemed to find his voice again. "Well if genetics hadn't proved you were Bruce's daughter, you giving Jason his signature glare would prove it."

"Well I guess that explains a few thing now" she hummed.

"That is all you get out of this?" Jason asks.

"What else was to get out of this?" she asked tilting her head, "so what did you guys want anyways?" she went back to her sunny personality.

---

The second incident occurred later that same day but with only Dick. He had gone to find her for dinner, so he went to her room. He had heard from both Jason and Tim that she could pull out the Bruce 'Batman' Glare so he did the smart choice of first knocking on the door.

"Come in" was her only response.

She was sitting at the desk staring at one of her sketchbooks. Her chin was resting on her arm her nose was scrunched and eyebrows furrowed concentrating on the image in front of her.

It wasn't the Batman Glare but she looked just like Bruce when he was in deep concentration.

"Dinner is almost ready" he answered after entering the room.

"Dick thank goodness" She snapped her head up and looked at him with her full attention. "I can’t decide on a color for this blazer. It would look nice in an emerald or in a sapphire blue. I know I want to use gold as an accent around the main part that is black stitched with holographic music notes but I don't know maybe"

"Mari" he interrupted her. God she even over thinks like Bruce, that was why he had stopped her. "Breathe please. Now is this for a certain person or no one in particular?" He asked breaking her slight panic.

"It is for a commission so a certain person." she answered calming down.

"So would the person's hair or eyes clash with those colors" Thank god Barbara always dragged him shopping and complains how certain colors clashed with her hair.

"Neither would clash necessarily, but the sapphire blue would complement his hair and skin tone better" she finished writing something in on the page.

"Okay now that, that is settled why don't we go down for dinner Little B" Dick gave her a smile.

"Little B?"

"Little Bruce" be elaborated, really be meant little bat, but she doesn't know that yet so he improvised.

"Why?"

"The way you scrunch your nose and eyebrows when concentrating is just like him. That and completely overthinking and over analyzing things is just like him"

"It's a habit I've been trying to break" she answers sheepishly.

"Don't, just ask yourself questions to not get sided tracked, it is one of the best qualities a person can have" he answered honestly. "God only knows Bruce wouldn't come up with half of what makes up WE if he didn't overanalyze every little thing" she seemed to cheer up a bit at this and he is glad he could help his little sister.

---

The third incident happened with Tim to say he was surprised when he saw her awake in the kitchen at 3 in the morning as he came back from patrol was shocking.

Honestly the only people awake at that hour were either the Bats, criminals, or him well him or even Bruce who would still be working. But here she is completely awake making, wait is that.

"Is that coffee?" He ended up asking out loud.

She turned to face him "Yes. Want some?"

"Please!!" he practically begged.

"Fair warning this is my special blend, I haven't found anyone else who could handle it" she warned him, but he took it as a challenge.

"Try me" and she did, she set a cup down in front of him and also poured herself one. After the first sip he realized it was strong, much stronger than his usual, and that usually had an entire cup of espresso. "That is good. You are making this again if you don't give me the recipe" she giggled.

"Let's see if you can handle a cup and make it to breakfast." she countered and she left to her room.

When morning came he was still wired in fact he was practically bouncing in his seat while having breakfast and everyone was staring at him. Granted he was usually a zombie in the morning so this was new, actually functioning properly that is.

"You okay there Timmy" Dick asked him, and that was confusing.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?" Tim asked.

"Now your beginning to scare us. Wait did you actually sleep, Replacement?" Jason asked him.

"I don't think he did Jason" everyone turned and stared at Marinette. "Half a cup" she said staring at him.

"Care to explain Bluebell."

"So turns out I'm not the only one awake late. Someone" she stared at Tim, "caught me making coffee last night, drank a single cup and still seems to be wired" she shrugged "so half a cup next time Tim"

"Wait, he is the most awake he has ever been in the, almost six years I've known him, and he hasn't slept." Damian stated bored. "what did you put in the coffee?"

"Nothing much, but if you know how to roast the beans right anything is possible" she rose the mug she was holding. That was when they all noticed the mug in her hand.

Out of concern, he is guessing, Dick and Jason moved to take the mug from her. They turned around to face each other with a smirk and they saw that they were both holding identical mugs to the one in, wait Marinette still has a mug.

"Enjoy the cocoa" she smiled as she took a sip from her cup.

"You really are Bruce's daughter if you can pull that with little to no sleep." Tim replied. Her only response was a head tilt. "I swear not sleeping and still being able to function absurdly well is genetic. You, Damian, and Bruce are alike in that."

---

The fourth incident happened and was witnessed by Damian. He was sure that he would be able to have the gym to himself as everyone was out on patrol but he was mistaken.

There was Marinette a headset on, with her hands wrapped moving between punching a bag and a sequence of movements. He watched her until she seemed to finish her set. She looked up and when she noticed him he walked towards her. She wasn't being her usual bubbly self, in fact it looked to him that she was upset.

"I didn't think anyone else would be in here" he stated."

"Oh, really" she answered lowering her headset ”I won't be a bother and did you want to take the punching bag." she said a slight frown on her lips. Okay he may not be the best at dealing with emotions, but he was extremely good at perceiving them on others.

"Something is bothering you, isn't it?" he was blunt sure but he wasn't expecting her to freeze and look around before taking a breath and schooling her features.

"No, everything is fine"

"It. As if I would believe that"

"Really now why don't..."

"Either you talk or we spar" he cut her off. He was expecting her to speak not take off her headset completely, set it down, and take a stance. The two began to spar and after almost two hours they were both lying on the mat exhausted.

"Thanks Damian, I needed a good spar"

"Any time you need, ask" he got up and began walking back to his room.

If he didn't already know she was a Wayne then that would prove it. Only a Wayne would rather not face their emotions and would rather fight.

His sister was his and he would be damned if he didn't at least help her. Albeit it he wasn't the most mushy of the family but she already was the most bearable of his sibling. Maybe he'll teach her to sword fight, then maybe someone would be an actual challenge for him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list:

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furiousgoldfish · 3 years

Text

I haven't been writing a lot lately because my recovery has been taking a wild turn and in lack of anyone to talk to or therapy, I'll be writing about it here! I'll put it under a cut. There are some descriptions of recovery going very wrong, and also explanations of things I was wrong about.

So since the pandemic started I've been deteriorating badly, first I've been processing trauma extensively, having intense breakdowns and gradually it turned into depression from lack of stimulation, I've been completely alone for months without speaking to, or seeing anyone. I thought it was the isolation getting to me, and decided I just need to endure that, indulge in whatever coping I could and wait for it to end. And then things got worse.

Even as normally I was seeing some very slow progress in recovery; now it was going backwards; I was having less and less ability to get anything done, I wasn't able to force myself to do my job for months, I kept getting stuck in bed for weeks, chronic pain got so bad I couldn't move on most days. And, it only kept going worse.

My breakdowns stared to be about the present instead of the past; I couldn't handle being in pain all the time. As in before I would recover from a breakdown within a day or two, now it took 4 days to a week, and the trauma episodes would last for hours, so intense I'd find myself hoping I would die during it.

And then, I started losing all mobility and this seriously freaked me out. Everything above I've already experienced before, without long term consequences, but now my body was losing function in a way that felt permanent; I could no longer move for more than few minutes, and without extensive pain. Sometimes I would try to get up and end up collapsing and screaming from how much it hurt, I would move my arm and my whole body would experience a shock of intense pain. I was scared, I no longer knew what was going on, I was suspecting something more than ptsd was wrong. I've forced myself into physical activity, trying to fight this, I tried stretching, exercising, running, punching, and every single one of these activities made it incredibly worse. I thought I had broken my body by laying down too much. I no longer felt anything but terror and dread, and kept spiralling into scenarios of my own death; it felt inevitable, I wasn't going to survive without ability to move, nobody would take care of me.

I tried out medicine that helps relaxing, it had minimal effect. Then, in desperation to check if this was all ptsd, I attempted self harm, to see if it erases the pain. It did. It lowered the pain significantly It was a big relief, even though I wasn't happy with resorting to that, at least I could move around for a while, and I was grateful for that. Times couldn't be more desperate, and the measure felt fitting. I was still in a very bad shape, and the pain was only somewhat lessened.

It was about that time someone sent me the Complex PTSD book; I had wanted it for a while and immediately went to read it. I felt some relief reading it, and I was struck with the realization that I have not felt any relief in more than a year. It also surprised me with some of the exact descriptions of my behaviour, that I didn't realize was a symptom. I thought it was necessary and smart of me to live in hiding, to avoid interaction and never connect to anyone; it kept me safe. It turns out it's a regular freeze response to trauma; I got very called out for it. It also explains that a freeze response is what people use when anything else doesn't work, and it's true! I had been fighting, fawning and perfecting myself desperately prior to realizing that absolutely nothing helps, and froze to survive. It also described that freeze types are capable of surviving prolonged isolation because their brains produce hormones that relax the body as if they're going thru a moment before death; also true for me, I've been aware my brain does that, only I get that way too often, and it only helps me marginally because I'm too used to it.

Another thing I was very wrong about was my concept of my inner critic; I thought I had already won that battle, because I did not allow any voice in my head to criticize me (my alters can drag me affectionately), and I generally didn't experience a lot of shame or guilt for what I was going thru. The book describes inner catastrophizer, which is an extention of the critic, and it causes you to spral into extremely negative scenarios of your own demise. Now that.. was happening to me every single day, I saw myself dead around every corner. But I always thought my fears about that were perfectly reasonable. I had been tortured into suicidal state as a kid and nobody cared, I barely escaped with my life from there, I was living illegally, in hiding, without a normal job or regular income, without close friends or any family, with ptsd i couldn't get diagnosed for, without ability to work due to ptsd, in a capitalistic society where being able to work is only thing between you and dying. I had, by that point, gained many skills of survival, but it still felt very reasonable to fear that I would die if I don't get better soon.

The book described people who had families, jobs, social circles, friends and community, who spiraled into deep fear of becoming homeless and dying on the street; somehow their spiraling was exactly the same as mine, and it made me realize that it was, in fact, a symptom, and not reflection of reality. Because I was spiraling even when laying in my bed or eating or sleeping, knowing I could still afford rent for months because I arranged my life to allow myself to lay down a lot. I kept fearing my parents were coming to end my life, even when I arranged my entire existence specifically to prevent this from happening. And even if I was sick and without a real job, I had in fact, survived for 5 years after running away, I wasn't getting worse at it. My spiraling into death scenarios was a symptom of being trapped within a flashback.

The book guided me to try to challenge these fears, I immediately went for it, had a breakdown, screamed "I can't" for like an hour, had additional few breakdowns afterwards, and miraculously, recovered from them in only few hours. And then, I woke up from my flashback.

I won't describe what the flashback was, because it's too gruesome and horiffic, but it was in fact, bad enough to warrant every single bit of that pain I was experiencing, and a very convoluted, complex trauma. I was waiting to be killed in that flashback. Whats concerning is, I've been trapped in that same flashbacks for more than a year. After I broke my way out of it, it felt like I woke up to being alive for the first time in years. I got out being frozen in bed.

For 5 amazing days, I was able to do whatever I wanted. Chronic pain? I didn't know her. It was absoluely exhilirating to get to move again, I was not getting tired either, I was out there making up for months of doing nothing and I was not collapsing at any point. I felt actual joy again, and hope, and being free from pain was so extremely good, that alone made me ecstatic. I was able to create, to be organized, to take care of myself, to follow a checklist, to focus, I was a Normal Person for those 5 days.

And then, predictably, I was getting back stuck in that flashbacks and my levels of terror and dread spiked again. I went to re-read the book, and it took me a few days to really figure it out again, I don't know exactly how the book works on me, I feel like it says just the right keywords to trigger me into realizations and causes breakdowns that set me free. I found myself able to stop some spiraling, but sometimes I can't, that flashback holds immense power over me and is actually mixed with 10 other near-death scenarios that are too extreme for me to process, so this will keep happening. I did break free again, and got to experience additional few days of movement and happiness; I also started working extensively with my child alter, who was until recently extremely suicidal and dangerous to work with.

I am still kinda lost in all of this, and unsure whats going on, but I do believe I wont get trapped in a flashback again for a whole year. I became so anxious and helpless due to isolation, I forgot how to fight trauma, I forgot I actually had to do it. I used to do it constantly in the beginning, but it had made me suicidal back then to face all this, so I tried to just let it heal naturally, which I believed would eventually happen; but it didn't, I got trapped and suffered without knowing how to get out. I also believed my own spiraling was a reflection of reality and not trauma, and that fueled it a lot.

It explains very eloqently in the book how inner catastrophizing comes from being massively neglected; children who are not looked after start to realize just how unprotected they are, so their own sense of danger becomes hypersensitive and starts to lock on possible dangers everywhere. This is then further aided by media that points out every possible bad thing that could happen to a person, and the child who isn't guided by adult who could actually make a reasonable distinction between real and unlikely danger, will clock it all as absolute possibilities and be on alert. It's also fueled by the line of disasters and dangers that happen to them in the context of their own home, and for me, the strongest factor was my parents constantly convincing me that I would die without them. Even though I proved this wrong, and understand they did it precisely because they knew there was a lot of survival ability in me and that's why they worked so hard to destroy it, the fact that it was brainwashed into me under circumstances of torture still makes it impossible for me to fight it.

Maybe one day I will be able to.

I'm writing this because writing things down helps to make sense of it all, and I need to find my way thru this. I also hope someone else will see themselves in what I'm describing and it will help them find a way forward. Complex ptsd is the only book I found that speaks from the point of view of a person who survived cptsd, healed from it, and had so much experience with other traumatized people they're able to draw parallels and create patterns and statistics out if it, it was that more than anything that convinced me of their words, and gave me hope. The book also warns many times of how essential it is to reduce inner critic and catastrophizer before getting other recovery work done, other therapy might only do further harm before this work is done. It was true for me.

If you wanna read this book, here's a post with the links!

#cptsd #complex ptsd #ptsd recovery #tw self harm #story of recovery #trauma #abuse recovery #trauma symptoms #chronic pain #chronic exhaustion #freeze response

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bluebellhairpin · 3 years

Text

The Silence In Between

Jaeger Pilot!Levi Ackerman X Engineer!Reader

Part One

A/N: I know what I said about the writing thing, but this just happened over time and I finally finished it. - Nemo

Warning(s): Injuries. Character Death. *sighs* Drfiting.

Summary:

Listening to: ‘When We Were Young’ by Take That - ‘We were drawn to whoever could keep us together and bound by the heavens above’

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

The Drift wasn’t something to be taken lightly. As years passed, Levi was the one person who knew about that the most.

From his first three-pilot Jaeger, to the one he piloted with Hange - and everything in between - he’d been through so many co-pilots that he used to think his time was coming soon. It had to be. He was too tired for it to not be.

It had been a week since he sparred with (y/n), and things were going as smoothly between the two as it had before the intense training session. But it still didn’t explain the weird feeling in his chest that he kept denying. And the fact that he didn’t really feel like dying in a Jaeger cockpit anymore.

Then, for the first time since the early-morning beating, he suited up to go fight a Kaiju. Their tech gave them the ‘OK’ that they’d drifted properly, and Hange was already sending Levi looks from his right.

“You and the engineer, huh?”

“Shut up.” He said, finishing up prepping their Jaeger to be dropped in the ocean. He caught Hange’s eyes, seeing them with a no-good glint in them.

“I’m not in your head as much as you are, but I sure as hell could see it coming.” They laughed. “You’re so dense.”

“Hange, I-”

“- Ackerman. Zoe.” Erwin said, his ever-prominent ‘I’m the Marshall’ tone cutting Levi off before he could finish his threat. “You’ll be lifted off-base in T minus 3 minuets. You’ll be dropped in the Philippine sea. You’ll be fighting a category III Kaiju, dubbed by our Loccent Officer here as Anago -”

“- Nice name -”

“- Hange. Please.”

“Sorry.”

“As I was saying,” Levi could practically hear Erwin rolling his eyes. “It’s a category III Kaiju. It’s not something you haven’t fought before, but our sensors are picking up that it’s still pretty big. And moving fast. We’ll have Warrior Titan and her pilots on standby the moment things start looking like they’re moving downhill. It’s too early in the morning to have anyone die.”

Levi wondered if there was any time for anyone to die.

By the time Levi got back to the Tokyo Shatterdome it was past noon. He was too tired to function properly. His eyes kept drooping, and his legs felt wobbly.

He hadn’t felt like that since the day Ewrin lost his arm.

Or when Furlan and Isabel died.

These things kept happening. Bad things. And it was never to him. Always to his co-pilots. He hated it. With every fiber of his being he wished he could go back and save them. To have been able to keep Furlan and Isabel alive. To have been able to save Erwin from losing his arm. To have moved that much faster to save Hange.

Sure, Hange was laying across from him in the medbay, but they might’ve as well died.

Looking back, one of the worst things about having Erwin ripped from the jaeger cockpit next to him wasn’t the fact he was sure Erwin had died - no, it was finding out he was alive and having to wait for if Erwin would even wake up. Now he was doing it all over again.

After spending the rest of his day with Hange Levi was ushered out of the medbay for the doctors to do their checks. He took the time he wasn’t allowed by Hange’s side to go to the mess hall to pretend to get something to eat. He was vaguely aware of what time it was, but when he got there he was a little surprised to find it was empty.

He was even more surprised when - after he’d made himself comfortable at one of the many tables, nursing a mug of untouched tea - you stumbled in, looking as worse for wear as he was.

Your tech overalls were tied haphazardly around your waist, your hair was messier than usual, and there were shiny grease stains all over your hands, forearms and tank top. If he squinted he thought he could see some on your cheek too. But your appearance wasn’t entirely unusual.

He still liked it - only because it was normal. No other reason.

What was unusual was that you were pouring hot, tar-like coffee from it’s urn into your bowl instead of the evening’s soup - of which was located on the other end of the room. You were tired. Very tired. Levi wondered what the hell you were working on to get you so exhausted.

He watched you turn from the urn, still unaware of your ‘not-soup’ situation, and somehow navigate to take a seat on the table next to his. You sat right across from him, one table over, and still hadn’t noticed him staring at you yet.

He also watched you raise your full spoon to your mouth. He had thought about saying something. But the thought of your reaction also crossed his mind, and he decided to go with staying quiet instead.

Unfortunately the only reaction he got was you looking very confused.

“It’s coffee you dumbass.” Your head shot up, meeting his eyes almost instantly. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I know that now. Dumbass.” you said, dropping the spoon to simply drink straight out of the bowl French-style. “How’s Hange going?” You asked, voice much quieter, and much more gentle than you’d ever used with him before.

“Hange -” he started, letting out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, “- Hange is okay. At least from what everyone keeps saying.”

“Good.” you hummed, “And you?”

“What about me?” He asked, bringing his mug up to his lips to take a long and unsatisfyingly cold mouthful of tea. He set the cup aside, scowling at it.

“I’ve never piloted a real Jaeger before, Ackerman, but I do know that when things like this happen to one of the pilots, they actually happen to both.” He looked over at you, squinting. “So how are you?”

He didn’t think he’d been asked that in a while.

“What,” Levi said, “did you just say?”

Erwin sighed. He knew this was coming, Levi could tell he did because he sighed. Erwin moved, his chair squeaking across the floor of his office as he lent forwards to address Levi more seriously.

“You and I both know Hange won’t do well in a Jaeger anymore.” Erwin said. “As much as you know I’d hate to say it, you should seriously consider the possibility of finding a new co-pilot.”

“I’d rather not.”

“I know.”

“I’d rather retire.”

“I know.”

“Why can’t I retire?” Levi asked. He knew the answer to that too. He just wanted to finally hear it.

“You’re too big of an asset to just,” Erwin gestured, “let go. Your knowledge of Kajiu’s and skill in a Jaeger is unparalleled. Only Miche and Nanaba come close to your level and they’re -”

“- on maternity leave. I know -”

“- so having you out of commission right now isn’t something my higher-ups are keen on.”

A couple beats past. Erwin and Levi kept looking at each other. They both also knew the solution to this new problem - finding Levi a new partner.

“We need to bring in the engineer.”

“Don’t.”

“We have no choice, Levi.” Erwin squinted at Levi. “You weren’t so defensive the other times.”

When Isabel and Furlan were replaced with Erwin. When Erwin was replaced with Hange. It was true, Levi barely battered an eyelid at them all being replaced - mainly because he did know them all fairly well before they joined him in the drift. They were all originally from the same batch of cadets. With you, however, it was a little different.

Sure, he did know you - for a couple years now - but he also knew that your connection ran deeper than just being ‘drift compatible’. That scared him.

“I’m tired, Erwin.” Levi lied. “I just want it to be over.”

“We all do, Levi.”

“Huh.”

Levi raised his eyes at you.

“Is that all you have to say?” he said, “‘Huh’?” You quickly caught yourself, wiping your dirty fingers across your jumpsuit, and shaking our head.

“No, no, no, sorry,” you stuttered, “I just - it’s only just kicking in.”

He asked you to be his co-pilot.

Hange had woken up yesterday afternoon, and there was nothing anyone could do about the lack of an eyeball they were now suffering from. They were no-longer fit to pilot the left hemisphere, seeing as the injury would be a hindrance. But you as a replacement for the dominant side of a Jaeger?

“I can’t do that.”

Levi blinked at you.

“What?’

“I can’t pilot a Jaeger, Ackerman.” you said, shaking your head again. “Not one of such high of a reputation at least. I -”You were cut off by Levi grabbing your arm, yanking you away from the crew working on the Warrior Titan, and into a very small, and barely lit space.

That bastard pulled you into a supply closet.

“Listen brat, and you better listen pretty damn well -” he said, his grip still tight on your arms, “- you train like a pilot. You want to be a Ranger, and this is your chance. In this world you make decisions - your choice is either one you agree with, or you regret. Make sure you don’t regret a single thing.”

His words were dead serious, and you were planning on taking them seriously. But his eyes - they were saying something you couldn’t understand. Become a Ranger, live life to the fullest, regret nothing. Stay an engineer, stay safe, regret nothing. He was telling you to say yes, and to say no, at the same time.

And he was also very, very, very close to you right now. And there was too little room inside that room.

So you ran away.

Not even a few hours later, Marshall Erwin himself came to find you - and you made sure to put yourself somewhere where even the other engineers would struggle to find you. But he found you anyway - crammed in the space between a Jaeger’s breastplates and it’s reactor core.

Bastard.

“Ranger Ackerman said you didn’t respond too well to his offer.” he said. You sighed, dropping your tool in your lap. “Why did you run?”

“I don’t really know.” You wiped your forehead with your arm, and then rested your hands on your hips as you looked up at him. He looked back at you, steely eyes softening, and he took a moment to sit down with you.

“You don’t have to know, so I’ll rephrase.” he said, “Does it not feel wrong?”

“No! God, no.” you said quickly, waving a hand out at him. “No it feels right. It’s just, it’s scary. The idea of going into that cockpit with him when he’s had so many others go through his brain like that. You, and Hange, as well as the other two he started with - that’s already more people than any other pilot in our history. I…”

“You don’t know if you can handle it.” Erwin finished. He stood, smoothing out his clothes and brushing off the dirt, then looked down at where you still sat. “If it helped ease your mind, he wouldn’t have talked to you about it at all if he didn’t think you could do it.”

“They’re not coming.”

“They have to.”

“They won’t.”

“Jeezus Levi, have some faith. I know the new copilot thing isn’t something you want to do but try to not act like you’ll miss me in your head that much.” He almost liked the idea of Hange being back in the med bay rather than watching from up in coms with Moblit.

But deep, deep, deep inside, he was glad that Hange was awake now.

After Erwin went to talk to you, he went back to Levi and they spoke a little more. Levi agreed to being nice on your first day. But inside he was adding if you even showed up.

“Better quit daydreaming Ackerman, or I’ll start piloting this hunk without you.”

He swiveled his head, turning to the left to see you standing there waiting to get ‘locked’ into place. Unfortunately, you looked really good in the drivesuit, and that was unfortunate only because you would know he thought that in, like, five minutes.

You’d know everything in, like, five minutes.

“You’d better be ready for this.” he said, looking over at you with an intensity only an Ackerman could pull off. “Don’t make me look like a fool.” A smile slowly creeped onto your face.

“You know, technically I’m in charge. You should stop bossing me around.”

“Oh damn -” Hange’s voice cut through your coms, “- I like this one Levi.”

“Shut up Hange.”

You’d prepared yourself for the drift.

Erwin had given you a file the night before, barely an hour after you went to him and said you’d do it. It was a lot of paperwork, and a surprisingly vague amount of information.

But was it enough?

Levi had been through hell and back, and now you’d get a front-row seat to all of it. But at least you were a little prepared.

You guessed, also, that Erwin gave Levi some info on you too. Not that there was a lot of it. Or any of it. Not compared to what was in his head anyway.

“Initiating the neural handshake in three… two… one…”

A jolt went down your spine, through your arms, to your fingers and down to your toes. Memories flashed behind your closed eyes, blurry and rushed.

Playing outside with your father.

Reading with your sister.

The first kaiju reached the news.

Not being comparable with anyone in training.

Sparring with Levi a few days ago.

You sucking in a deep breath. No chasing the rabbit. Let the memories go. Then Levi’s memories hit.

Growing up with his mother and uncle.

Kaijus.

Living at the shatterdomes.

Losing his friends. Again. And Again.

You stumbled where you stood, opening your eyes and looking over at Levi. He was already looking at you, asking if you were okay without speaking. You nodded, letting out a shaky laugh as you smiled.

“This is amazing.” you gasped.

“I know.” he said, but you heard a different reply. ‘Just like you.’

You heard a lot, felt more too. The overwhelming emotions you got from drifting with Levi was more than you expected. He felt more than he let on.

“How about taking her out for a run?” You offered, distracting yourself from overthinking about everything too much with the buttons and screens around you.

“What do you think Levi?” Erwin asked.

“You ought to know what I think Smith. They wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

“Copy that Ranger,” Erwin scoffed, “We’ll get you ready to go out.”

A beat passed, you side-eyed Levi, letting a giggle slip. He huffed beside you, and the jaeger weight shifted with you as you both lent your weight on a different foot.

“What now?”

“You like how my shoulders look in my tank top, huh?”

“You like staring at my ass so we’re even.”

Series Taglist: @tanyeonn

Series Taglist is Open!

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman one shot #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan one shot #aot x reader #aot one shot #pacrim au #iin between #shingeki no kyojin x reader #shingeki no kyojin one shot #snk x reader #snk one shot

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nohoney · 3 years

Text

Tell Me (When You’re Ready) - 4.1

notes: Part 4 of the Us Series also on ao3

Us Series Masterlist

warnings: 18+, drug use, polyamory, low key manipulation, toxic relationships, cheating

summary:

He’s never been involved with anyone else the way he’s been with you, you’re all he thinks about and wants to have. It’s more than just liking you, this instinct to care for you, this obsession and desire he feels over you, he calls it love, it must be love.

4.1 ✧ 4.2 ✧ 4.3 ✧ 4.4

At first glance, Touya didn’t really think much of you the first time he had seen you.

You were just another random party goer to him, one of many he saw whenever he attended those kinds of things, easier to just sell to his clientele if they conglomerated in these kinds of functions, though with the slightly older ones they have to blend in better since they’re technically crashing a house party. University students, upcoming freshmeat, recently graduated alumni and some of their plus ones or more, it’s so easy to tell who the veterans are versus the greenhorns.

The ones who can hold themselves together versus the ones that need to be carried, the ones who can hold there liquor versus the ones that need to be babysat, the strong versus the weak.

And you were that in between, walking around cross faded with eyes that looked lost in space but when someone put a hand on your shoulder then you would come back to earth, but not with your feet touching the ground. Like your feet just barely skimming the surface but still wanting to float in the sky, streaming through a pleasant haze just a bit longer until the high ends and you’ll have no choice until it’s time to walk amongst the animals again.

You sat on the couch with a few girls, talking amongst themselves and no doubt grouped together to protect one another from the predators; who could resist drunk and weak girls, especially the ones who looked the most broken. The eyes of the boys on your group and hoping to try to break into the circle and pick off the weakest to break away the pack. They get especially eager when the group wants to drink more, but you and two friends decide to go outside to smoke a joint instead.

“I’m drunk, I need’a go outside.”

The first words he ever heard you say, though not the first he’s heard but it sounded cute the way you slurred them out.

His eyes followed you briefly, holding hands with a friend as you made your way to get to the outside for a smoke.

“Yo Dabi! Good to see you man!”

He passed discreet little baggies, pink and blue tablets, little pills, he always gets a pat on the back from the boys and winks from the girls.

The girls like him, more than a few offering a little something extra when he makes a successful sale. Two of his whores are at this party, the decent flings he goes back to every so often when he wants to get his dick wet and when they want his goods.

Good dick and good drugs, it’s nice to get a two for one sale.

The second time he sees you at the party, he’s just leaving a room and fixing his belt while you sit at the top of the stairs with a friend. You and your friend are engrossed in your conversation, more than likely a similar talk happening somewhere inside the house party because you talked about your regrets of the way you and your ex broke it off, just more drunk girl talk. “It was so… so fuckin’ stupid dude, I was drunk and he showed up. We fucked but whe’ I woke up the next day, I fuckin’ left and just didn’t talk to him again.”

The second thing he ever heard you say but Touya literally passed by three girls half an hour ago that had a similar conversation, yours was nothing special.

Touya always denies drinks, offers of lines and other things when he goes to these kinds of functions, he needs a clear mind when he deals. He’s not dumb as fuck when he’s high or when he’s on, he can handle himself quite well and could sell just as well even if he were, he just doesn’t want to be relaxed around people that he doesn’t know that well or trust. It would have been nice if Keigo tagged along but the fucker’s Adderall hadn’t worn off in time to accompany him. Keigo gives him a good break from the others, kinda resets him and then he goes back to his business.

But Keigo isn’t around so Touya settles for plowing girls in random rooms of the house to give him a brief recess and then he’s back out there.

The third time he sees you, you’re leaning against the body of a young man just a little taller than Touya but nothing in the way he holds you shows that he has any ill intentions towards you. It feels rare sometimes to see two people having a platonic friendship, especially between two people of the opposite sex. Touya’s already sold your friend whatever he wanted but sticks around to make conversation, though it’s an excuse because he can’t help but note the way you’re being held in your friend’s arms. He tries to not make it obvious as he talks but truthfully, Touya wanted to just look at you. It’s obvious that there’s nothing romantic in the way your friend holds you but for some reason, it doesn’t sit well with him.

Even with his eyes up on your friend, he can see how you cling to your friend’s body with your arms wrapped around him so securely and with so much trust. Touya notes how you’re practically purring as your friend pets your head, sometimes massaging the tips of his fingertips against your scalp and then rubbing your shoulder in comfort. And he can see how you peeked up at him a few times, your curious eyes on him but Touya recognizes the cloudy way you look up at him. It’s not out of interest in the way you looked at him but probably just wondering why he was around.

Eventually you stop looking at him and choose to shut your eyes, concentrating on your friend petting your head instead.

“You want to try anything (Name)? Dabi’s got the best shit I’ve ever had, pretty fucking primo.” your friend had offered but you shook your head and said no. And goddamn if it wasn’t the cutest no that Touya’s ever heard in his life, the third thing he's ever heard you say. “Girl’s been pretty curious about wanting to try coke but she hasn’t worked up the nerve to actually give it a try. You know what, lemme buy a half off you too and maybe this’ll be the night that she finally gives it a try.”

Touya went home wondering if you lost your cocaine virginity that night.

That question wouldn’t be answered until a couple month’s later after you and him shared a philosophy class together. Touya remembered you very clearly but for some reason, his gut twists a little when you spoke to him the first time and it’s clear that you didn’t remember him from the party. He decides to forgive you for not remembering him because he feels like he can’t stay mad at you, not with that cute face you have.

But it’s just like at the party, you don’t seem particularly interested in him but Touya’s interested in you so he decides to seek you out more. He starts to crave your attention but he doesn’t want to look like a fool if it’s a one-sided attraction so he lays the charm on you, calls you pretty names that he’s never used on other girls. At first Touya thinks that you can just be girl number nine, hopefully another easy hole for him to use when he has an itch to scratch.

Now Touya’s fucked a lot of girls. He’s taken innocent girls virginities before and he’s had some pretty wild sex with the campus sluts, but there’s something different about you. You’re not a prude, not in the way you flirt back and insinuate wanting to take a seat on his face sometimes, but you’ve got some untouched parts of you that he wanted to lay a claim on. He’d show you new things and hold your hand over what you’d be too scared to do on your own or with others, he’ll watch over you. Imagine his giddiness the first time he ever cut lines of coke for you, it turned out that your cocaine virginity belonged to him this entire time.

"Oh... it's not that bad!"

You took that line so good, how about you take my cock next?

You tease him, playing coy one moment and then acting like nothing happened next.

And normally with bitches that do that shit with him for too long, Touya drops them pretty fast and moves on to the next. A little flirting and teasing is fine but he’s not looking to play a long term game with that kind of bullshit, it’s either happening or it’s not.

But with you it’s different.

You’re different.

Touya starts to obsess over you so slowly that he doesn’t even recognize it at first. All he knows is that he has to have you, he ghosts four of his whores in favor of being with you even though there wasn’t a guarantee that he would get in your pants. He just dropped the ones that he sought for sex only, the other half are still his clientele so he keeps those ones around, plus they're still decent lays. Keigo notices it, the way his friend talks over some girl that he hasn’t even fucked yet and letting go of four of his side whores has him thinking, ‘Wow, she must be something to get Touya’s attention this bad.’

The semester starts to come to an end and he still hasn’t bagged you yet, he calls you his doll but you haven’t let him play with you. He places one of his whores face down and ass up after she does a few lines, imagines that it’s you underneath him and what you might sound like and its your ass he’s grabbing. Touya can imagine it, you weak underneath him and begging for his cock but when the bitch under him whines out ‘Dabi’, he almost loses his boner. He tells her to shut the fuck up and bite the pillow, doesn’t want to hear her stupid sounds because he wants to envision you instead.

But even imagining you calling him Dabi feels wrong, Touya rolling off your pretty lips as he paints your insides white… it blows him over the edge.

In his mind that’s what he wants, but you don’t get the right to call him by his real name. He doesn’t know you like that so you’re just like everyone else for now, referring to him as Dabi. At some point he figures that this fixation he has on you will burn out soon. And yet Touya finds himself drawn further to you, wanting you more and more, doesn’t want you to wander too far away from him and wants to know who you’re with when he’s not by your side.

And he wanted to fuck you too, so fucking bad.

His first try was with a night cap at his place, the first time Touya ever had a girl over in his space. But it seems you know your limitation on alcohol and don’t let him pour you an extra drop, wanting to be able to drive yourself home and be in decent shape for your lectures. He smokes you up one day and it goes in a good direction, you were relaxed and sending him some good signals that lead to the two of you making out. It didn’t go further because he got a phone call from his mother that he couldn’t possibly ignore, but you thought ‘Oh a mama’s boy, that’s so sweet.’

It’s the third time that he finally gets you, playing music in his car that gets you in the mood and that gets you naked in his backseat. He doesn’t know what made you ready all of a sudden but he didn’t stop to ask as you fervently sucked him off. You were more riled up than him, so excited to get his dick and that eager look in your eye when you commanded him to blow your back out. And he sure did not disappoint, he never disappoints when it comes to his dick.

And a relationship persists forward to the surprise of both of you, liking each other more than you thought you would but there were no labels yet, Touya wasn’t used to having a girlfriend so he didn’t want to call you that at first and you weren’t sure if you wanted him to be your boyfriend. Neither of you really spoke about what you were to one another despite the attraction and the lazy build of emotions that neither of you were aware of in the beginning. All Touya knew was that he wanted you to be around him more and be waiting for him when he returned back to his apartment.

It’s difficult to say when mutual attraction turned into the of you catching feelings for one another. You and Touya were hooking up for a couple of weeks after the end of the semester of the one class you shared together, and while he was aware that you were a little disgruntled at him fucking the girls he sells to, he didn’t think it was that big of a deal at the time. Didn’t he make it obvious that you’re different from them and that he only cared about you? So what if he got his dick wet from other girls aside from you? He’d been doing it before he started seeing you but he always came back to you afterwards, so why were you so pissed?

“It’s just business doll.”

It wasn’t official between the two of you yet so there wasn’t much you could say at the time. You just figured that if Touya liked you so much then he would stop and Touya figured that since you liked him just as much then you would understand.

But Touya remembers that night when he left to go sell at another house party, trying to spend time with you before he had to leave but you wouldn’t let him. He knew you were mad again because he just came back from selling to one of his whores which meant that, ‘Yes, she offered her pussy when I got there so we fucked.’ He honestly did not understand where your jealousy was coming from. You were there, sitting in his apartment and spending nights in his bed, he was doing shit with you that he’d never done with anyone else and you were still getting mad at him.

How did you not get that you were different from the rest of them?

But Touya wasn’t going to put more effort into making you feel better when you didn’t want to be cheered up, so he left to do his usual thing.

And when he came back to his apartment earlier than expected, which was only one in the morning, he found that your car was not in the guest parking and therefore you were not waiting for him inside his home. He tried ringing you to find out if you went back to your place but it went straight to voicemail so he goes to your home in hopes that you would have been there instead. But you’re not there when he arrives and you don’t answer his texts and phone calls still don’t go through."Fucking bitch! Where the hell are you?"

Touya can stay up until three in the morning at most if he’s not on anything but that night was the only night he had ever stayed up by just being angry alone. He was riled up and emotions all over the place, hands shaking so bad that he needed to punch something, almost considered putting his fist through his wall. He was fucking furious because he knows immediately that you went out to be with someone else, went to get fucked by some scum because you wanted to be a vindictive little cunt about what happened earlier.

He had practically barged into Keigo’s place and shook him awake in his bed because he didn’t know who to turn to.

“She’s out getting fucked. I fucking know she is!”

“Wha-? Touya…” Keigo groggily sat up in his bed and brushed off Touya's hands off his shoulders, blonde hair a mess from tossing and turning but he gives his friend his undivided attention. He hadn’t met you yet, had only seen pictures and nudes of you that Touya shared with him, but he’s pretty shocked over how outraged Touya is. He’d never seen his friend get so worked up over one girl before, so it speaks volumes to him to see Touya so unhinged. “What makes you say that? Maybe she’s out with friends or something. Just because she’s not back in her place doesn’t mean that she’s getting with another dude.”

But Touya’s gut said otherwise and he insisted that it was right.

“Okay man, I’m going to put some things in perspective for you. I don’t know this girl but it’s obvious that you’re into her… like a lot, but I can’t really blame her for going out to be with someone else if that’s what she’s doing right now. She can still go do what she wants just as much as you can. If you guys haven’t defined what you are to one another, especially with how you operate, then you don’t have much of a right to be telling her what to do.”

Touya was livid when you returned to your apartment, angry that you had the audacity to be so spiteful with him and furious at the thought of you underneath someone that wasn’t him. It fucking hurt him because he didn’t fuck the whores to make you angry, they didn’t mean anything to him compared to you. But in the aftermath of hatefucking turning into lovemaking, he still mulled over Keigo’s advice, deciding that maybe it would make you happy to call you his girlfriend if it meant that you wouldn’t go behind his back again. You're his favorite, his number one, his only one, if reassuring is what he has to do then he'll put up with it as long as he doesn't have to say it too often. And fine, if it really bugged you that much then he decided to make it fair by giving you permission to sleep with who you wanted provided that you always came back to him the same that he did with you.

Except that after he put it out there, he immediately regretted putting the offer out but knew that a fight would surely begin if he decided to take it back. Once again the thought of you being with someone else had got his teeth grinding and gave him anxiety. You’re his fucking girl, his precious doll that deserved to be put on a throne and be given whatever you wanted. Touya wanted nothing more than to protect you from assholes who didn’t appreciate you like your dumbass ex-boyfriend.

“(Name)’s really great, I’m glad the two of you are together. Though are you sure you’re okay with her seeing other guys too? I know you said it to be fair to her but I see you get bent out of shape if she’s even around just one of her guy friends.” Keigo puffed on cigarette, tapping some of the excess ash off the tip before returning the filter to his lips. “You really going to be okay if she decides to get picked up by another dude?”

Touya let out a frustrated sigh as he lit his third cigarette in a row; you’d be pissed if you found out but he was fortunate that you would be out for a few hours so he had time to clean away the evidence. “They’re gonna treat her like shit, I know the assholes out there would but if I take it back, she’s going to get pissed. She didn’t even fucking apologize for fucking someone else behind my back. I don’t want her to be used by someone else, she’s not a whore.”

“Correction, you mean she’s your whore.”

The only one who understood his way of thinking was Keigo.

There’s a night where you sleep in your own apartment while Touya and Keigo sit outside your complex, leaning against his car and just looking at the balcony that they know is attached to your place. A six pack of beer sits on the hood of the car, two slots empty as they each hold a bottle in their hand. Keigo quietly admits to him, “I think I might like (Name) Touya. Like I think I like her a lot, more than just wanting to fuck her and more than just as a friend.”

Touya quietly takes in Keigo’s confession and just nods his head, still looking up at your balcony and hoping that you’re sleeping well. He’s never been involved with anyone else the way he’s been with you, you’re all he thinks about and wants to have. It’s more than just liking you, this instinct to care for you, this obsession and desire he feels over you, he calls it love, it must be love. He hesitantly admits back, “… I think I love her.”

“Wow…”

“Yeah, wow…”

“You really think you love her?” Keigo asked after polishing off his first beer. “What about that whole arrangement thing? If you tell her you love her, she might question you since, you know, you’re still fucking other girls. If you love her then she’ll expect you to be monogamous with her.”

“If she still takes me up on that arrangement, I don’t think I can handle it. Only people who love her should be allowed to fuck her.” In other words, only he should be the only one to have you. No one else loves you like Touya does, he’ll fucking kill any asshole that thinks they can use you as their fucktoy. When Keigo asks again about the other girls, he growls at him and tosses his bottle onto the concrete. “I’m fucking working on that, alright. I just… don’t know how to fucking commit. It’s too fucking hard to do this by myself.”

Keigo just pops the cap off another bottle and hands it to Touya. “Would it help if I joined the relationship? I’m sure we can work something out with (Name), provided she’s willing.”

Touya would observe you and Keigo together, you oblivious to his friend’s flirtations at times and mistaking it as him just being very friendly. He could see golden eyes wandering down your body, already knowing what you looked like without any clothes and how pretty you look when you’re gagging on a dick because Touya’s shown him your nudes and recorded videos of you. Keigo can try to hide and put up a front that he’s just lusting over you but Touya can see that his friend has got that little lovestruck glint in his eyes when he looks at you; and honestly, he’s not even upset about it. The vision of you and Keigo together, it makes him comfortable rather than the anxiety he feels when he thinks about you with someone else. They obsess over you together, you blissfully unaware of how tortured Keigo was sometimes that he couldn’t plow his cock into you because you saw him as just a friend.

So he takes up Keigo's offer.

He was hoping that the transition to introduce Keigo into the relationship would go smoother, but it only comes up after a fight when he brings you with him to a house party for the first time.

God, Touya didn’t mean what he said to you that night when you and Keigo rolled together; he was just frustrated because he didn’t know what he could do to show you that you meant more to him than you knew. No matter how much he reassured you, you kept on letting your stupid insecurities get in the way!

“C’mon man, one minute you’re telling me you love her and now all of a sudden you’re breaking up with her?” Keigo scolds him, unaware that you leave the both of them behind and duck into the house.

“I’m not trying to break up with her! I’m just— fuck, she just doesn’t get that… fuck!”

He’s at a loss of words, he doesn’t want to be mad at you but you couldn’t get over your hangups over the side whores. They weren’t his other girlfriends, not his side bitches, or anything like that. Touya literally only sees them for probably twenty minutes max on the occasion they hit him up, nothing compared to all the time dedicated to you. They can claw at his dick however much they want, that’s all they want from him anyway aside from the pills and powders he sells to them. If it gets them to shut up then fine, but Touya will never spend a second longer with them when he’s finished using them. He doesn’t give a fuck if they whine about not cumming, he never promised them an orgasm when he gives the whores his cock.

He obsesses over you, not them; he cares for you, not them; he only wants you, not them.

Stop being jealous, it's just you!

Keigo finally talks him down but they realize that you’re not around.

Touya searches the outside perimeter of the house while Keigo searches inside. You’re rolling, barely able to take care of yourself and they have no idea where you are. All the worst case scenarios run through his head like you wandering into the night and getting kidnapped, hit by a car while walking down the road, he wonders if you’re still at the house and possibly getting raped because you can’t fight back if someone forces themselves on you. He drives himself crazy with his own imagination and you won’t answer your fucking phone!

To his relief Keigo informs him that he found you locked inside one of the bedrooms, having mixed cocaine, ecstasy, and alcohol because you were upset about what happened. He’s a veteran, Touya’s mixed plenty of times within his boundaries of tolerance but you’ve never done it before so he worries instantly for your wellbeing. The only thing that he can think of what to do to help you is to bring you a fresh bottle of water, you’re probably dehydrated as hell.

He feels awkward as hell when he arrives to the room, standing off to the side as Keigo fusses over you. He’s able to comfort you with the right words in your state of mind, adding in kisses and sweet caresses to your body to help calm you, something that Touya feels unable to do at the moment. But Keigo fixes you up and nods for him to approach you, a little hurt that you whine for Keigo to stay.

But he has to admit his mistake, that he should have been more attentive to you when he brought you with him, even if he trusted Keigo to look over you the entire time. You’re upset, of course you’re upset with him, and he doesn’t want you to be mad at him anymore. So he decides to give you a right he should have bestowed to you a long time ago, you’re not allowed to call him Dabi anymore. It’s the only way he knows to make it up to you and show you that you’re important to him.

Don’t be mad at me anymore babydoll, I’m yours.

You’re a stubborn little thing at first, still insisting on calling him Dabi but he made you come around. His name falling from your lips just sounds so perfect, it sounds right as you choke up on pleasure and come undone with a scream of his name.

Touya imagines that night you went behind his back because you were mad at him, freezing for just a quick moment that you would do the same thing the next time you became angry with him, except now he had given you full permission. You hadn’t taken advantage of the arrangement and didn’t seek anyone out so far, he’s thankful for that, but he has to lock down Keigo into the relationship so that he can secure you.

Touya literally walked out of the house earlier to find you and Keigo making out, surely you can’t believe you can do that on ecstasy and still believe that everything is platonic. He has to put the truth out there, you deserve to know it, no one else would treat you so good like they would.

“He thinks you’re adorable. I talk about your pussy all the time with him. How fucking cute it is, how tight it gets when you get choked, and when you cum all over yourself. He wants to fuck you open so bad.”

“Touya, don’t say that! He’s just a friend!”

“A friend who wants to fuck you.”

He probably could have been more eloquent with his words but he gets his point across to you regardless.

“I gave you permission to fuck who you want doll, Keigo is not the worst person you could choose. In fact, I’d like it if he were the one to keep you warm for me.”

And he can see how realization hits you, Keigo further supporting the claim by coming onto you as well. What you used to perceive his actions as friendly, you thought otherwise now. It’s a truth that you can’t unlearn now that he’s put it out there, but he hopes that you fucking take the bait. If you reject Keigo coming into the relationship, he truly won’t be able to handle the possibility of you seeking someone else out.

He’d fucking go crazy.

That is not an exaggeration.

Everything goes smoothly though, you returning hand in hand with Keigo with that cute, embarrassed look on your face when you asked where the ‘proper threesome’ should take place. He doesn’t know what Keigo said to you or what you said to him in order to reach the desired conclusion but he doesn’t care, it doesn’t matter because he got what he wanted.

You’re right where Touya wants you.

It feels good to know that when he’s out, Keigo is there to be with you in his place.

Everything feels perfect when he’s with you, he won’t lose you to anyone, you’re so fucking good for him, so fucking loyal to him and Keigo that even when you have your own doubts, you fall in line with what he wants anyway. He knows what’s best for you, what you need and what you don’t need. You don’t have to worry about anything because you’re watched over and cared for. He cares for you all the time like when you’re drunk, high, rolling, cross faded, sick, depressed, and everything in between.

But admittedly there are moments when his own anxiety gets the best of him, sometimes Touya looks at you and suddenly wants to run to the hills. He pops a few oxys to try to calm him down sometimes but they’re not always effective. When the pills don’t help, he hopes one of the whores hits him up to ask for a pill or a baggy and he can pretend that he’s living his old life before you came along because that’s what he’s most familiar with. He thinks you’re too good to be true at times and he follows the instinct to self sabotage by still returning to the whores. And every single time without fail when he returns to you, he feels his chest constrict as soon as you’re in his sights.

It’s no secret to you when he goes out to see them, he comes back smelling like artificial fruit or sweet candy, and he sees how you bristle when he tries to come near you. You’re angry at him but choose to remain silent because it’s an argument that’s long exhausted, he feels guilty that he still can’t commit himself to you fully but swears that one day it will happen. One day he’ll defeat that monster inside him that tempts him to ruin everything he’s built with you. But until then, Touya wants to make it up to you every single time. Food and drinks are an easy way to placate you but his favorite is when you agree to house roll with him because no matter what you end up gravitating to him during the roll and lean on him during your come down.

Sensual make outs while on ecstasy when you’ve reached the peak and then comfortable silence during the come down as you wallow together in a brief period of depression, it’s when he feels the closest to you.

And you don’t know this because he hasn’t been ready to say anything, but he’s already told you that he loves you.

The first time he says it, it’s past the six month mark of the relationship and just a little after Keigo is inducted into it as well. Nothing special in particular had happened to make him say it, you went to bed early because you stayed up way too late the night before and you just needed the extra hours of rest. He smoked a joint to relax, hopped in the shower to clean up, and he tip toed quietly in the room to make sure he didn’t disturb you. You barely flinched as he turned on the light in the room, unaware at how much Touya stared down at you as you slept. He took in your features and marvels at how peaceful you look when you’re asleep.

“I love you.” he says for the first time to you out loud.

You shift a little and emit a quiet, nondescript sound and he panics briefly that you might have heard him. Relief floods through him as you simply mumble and nuzzle the pillow, continuing to rest and none the wiser to the confession that Touya spoke into the air. But a weight is off his shoulders as he climbs into bed with you and is ready to sleep alongside you.

So he tells you he loves you when he knows you can’t hear him like when you’re deep in slumber, when you have your headphones on and just blast your music, or just right when you walk out the door after kissing him goodbye. He’s brave enough in those moments to say it but not brave enough to actually tell you just yet.

There’s one night where he thought you were going to say it first, and if that was the case then Touya would happily reciprocate it back.

You were hanging onto him for dear life as Touya rammed his cock into you, your hands clutching his shoulders and the back of your head digging into the mattress with your back arched off the bed. Touya had been mean to you all night by edging you, pulling out just as you’re about ready to burst and relishes in your desperate cries. You promise him you’ll do anything he wants but please please please, don’t just leave you like this. It’s only when you’re at your most desperate that Touya decided to give you the orgasm he’d been denying you.

“Such a desperate fucking whore. Were you thinking about my cock the entire day you were out?” Touya growled into your neck before nipping down on a sensitive spot as he jackhammers his dick into your pussy. “You were fucking drenched in your panties when you walked through that door. You love my dick so much that you think about it all the time huh?”

Your hands clutch onto his shoulders and Touya’s hips move to fuck you until you pass out from cumming so hard. You’ve been fucked stupid plenty of times and you just blearily look up at him as he utterly uses you to his satisfaction. There are plentiful memories of when you’ve told him you loved his dick in the frenzy of the moment, nothing but praises for his cock and how good he rams it in and out of you. It’s so fucking cute when you’re dick drunk and you slur out all your words. But Touya swears that you say it a little bit differently, straining his ears to make sure he heard you right. His hips don’t falter in their pace but he wants to know that he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.

“I love… it…. cock… I love… yo…” shaky breaths leave your lips, shuddering gasps as your whole body trembles at what is sure to be an earth shattering orgasm. “S’fucking good… love ih… Love… yo— ahhh!”

Your whole body tenses and your back arches off the bed as high as your body allows, toes curling as you cum all over Touya’s cock and he cums alongside you. But even in the wreckage of your orgasm, you’re still choking out those breathless words that he was straining to comprehend just a few seconds ago. He wanted you to enunciate more, he should have slapped your cheek and made you speak clearly otherwise he would edge you again but the idea comes much too late now that you’re a boneless, brain fucked mess beneath him with his cum leaking out of you.

He fucked you too good, you’re asleep within seconds after Touya pulls out of your pussy and he’s a little disappointed that he couldn’t draw those words out of you.

Turquoise blue eyes look down at you, so vulnerable and pretty right before him. You look perfect and so comfortable in his bed that for a few seconds he’s inconceivably happy. You’re completely unaware of the power you have over him, how easily you could kill him without even trying. He’ll break if you leave him and he’ll break you if you try to leave him.

Don’t leave me.

You stay curled up in the bed and snuggled into his pillow even though you have your own on your side of the bed. A few minutes have passed and Touya thinks it’s safe to say it again, confess his heart into the silence of the room and while you’re unconscious to avoid being vulnerable; he’s just not ready yet. It would make his life so much easier if you said it first out loud but he also thinks that it would make you really happy if he were to say it first.

He knows you’ll be happy once the words are put out there, whether he says it first or you do.

Until then, he says it quietly and in the safety of his room while you rest peacefully.

“I love you.”

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #dabi #bnha x reader #bnha #tw drugs #tw toxic relationship #us series

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i-will-physically-fight-you · 4 years

Text

Faith, Trust and a Little Bit of Pixie Dust

Title: Faith, Trust and a Little Bit of Pixie Dust

Summary: It’s cold in the cellar, but then if it isn’t cold it’d defeat the whole purpose of a cellar. This coldness had been fine at first, but the longer Logan and his little brother Virgil stay, the more it worsens. Logan just hopes his mother’s temper wears off soon or else the cold could get fatal.

The last thing Logan expects is for his father, who he hasn’t seen in years, to show up through golden portal (a magic portal, which should be impossible!) to save the day as if he hadn’t abandoned them to this fate by leaving all those years ago.

Pairings: Brotherly Analogical, Parental Loceit

Word-Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Magic, Child Abuse, Physical & Emotional Abuse, Unhealthy Romantic Relationship, Hypothermia, Alcohol, Death Mention, Morally Grey Janus, Crying, Angst With a Happy Ending

This fic was at times both frustrating and fun to write. I have no plans to continue this fic, but you can ask me questions regarding the ‘verse and I’ll answer them. Janus has good intentions in this fic he’s just bad at expressing them and we’re also seeing this from Logan’s pov.

It was cold in the cellar. Then again, it would be rather alarming were it the opposite case. Cellars were historically used to store perishable items such as vegetables and meats in a time before refrigerators existed. Still prolonged exposure to such an absence of heat wasn’t good for any human being. Not without proper clothing or heating methods. Something both Logan and his young brother unfortunately lacked.

At first with just a t-shirt and jeans it’d been fine. A bit chilly but fine. What Logan hadn’t accounted for was a cold front to settle in unexpectedly. Within an hour, it dropped by forty degrees. His little brother Virgil wasn’t fond of physical touch. Yet the young child clung to Logan for warmth. It wasn’t enough. His skinny frame still trembled, his lips turning blue. Logan himself felt the effects of his body trying uselessly to warm the cold environment around them. Still his bit his lips from shivering, desperate to attempt staying strong for Virgil.

“I-I-I’m s-s-scared.” Virgil cried, digging his head into Logan’s shirt.

I...I know.” Logan said, stroking his brother’s hair gently, “Things are...things will be alright.”

Logan had repeated this statement many times already to Virgil. Each time he grew less sure of it. However, he knew he had to remain strong for his brother’s sake. Ever since his brother was a baby, Logan had to grow up faster. Much faster than even before. Sometimes he resented this fact, but never for long. It was simply the way things were.

“C-c-c-can you tell me a story?” Virgil asked, and of course Logan obliged. For he knew the unspoken words in that request: I’m still scared. Can you make it less scary?

A story, for both the listener and teller, would be a beneficial distraction. Even though Logan was not a good storyteller. Once he did a short story assignment in middle school and received a C. His heart metaphorically sank at the sight of it and he dreaded going home that day. Virgil always seemed to appreciate his stories. Although praise from a kindergartener wasn’t worth much in the literary world.

Through frozen lips, he told a meandering story to his little brother. Sometimes his brother would ask questions or offer suggestions, abruptly changing the direction of the story. Logan himself barely remembered what it was about. It was as if someone else spoke through him as his mind drifted to other ideas.

It’d been dark for a long, long while. Usually his mother would’ve unlocked the door by now. She’d insist he’d make dinner while complaining of a terrible headache.

It was an unending cycle. His mother would do her best to stay sober and function as an adult for a few weeks. Then her mood would increasingly sour, little things piling up into an avalanche. It was hard to tell at times what would be the trigger. The one thing that made her slam open the alcohol cabinet and drown a whole bottle of vodka.

She wasn’t a nice person when drunk; hence the whole being-locked-in-the-cellar. Eventually after a few days of heavy drinking, his mother would come to her senses. She’d lock the alcohol cabinet and claim she’d never drink again. A lie nobody believed but herself.

Perhaps the lie was done in good intentions. His mother always insisted she cared for her children, in ways their father never could.

“He’s a snake, Logan,” She hissed once, banging her beer heavily onto a coaster, “A dirty, no-good deceiving snake.”

Logan said nothing. He had only a few memories of the man. Once, when Logan was nine years old, he showed up on their doorstep. He held a bouquet of roses for Mother and a much belated birthday present for Logan. It’d been one of the happiest he’d seen Mother. He stayed with them for a few days. He listened to Logan, complimenting him on his extensive knowledge about dinosaurs. The three of them went to a carnival together. For a fleeting moment, Logan had what the others kids at his school had; a family.

Then it ended with tears, arguing, door slams. Mother yanking him by the arm and leaving everything behind. Nine months later, Virgil was born. His father wasn’t there. Nor did he ever show his face again. A bitter, festering part of Logan despised him for that.

Mother acted like she cared at times. She’d purchase Virgil and Logan expensive gifts. Things she couldn’t afford without a credit card. She treated them to ice cream and insisted on giving them hugs. She never understood that Virgil found tactical touch without permission distressing. She’d brush it off, making remarks he simply needed to get used to it.

At times Logan allowed himself to pretend these niceties would last. He pretended his mother was a flawed human being who mostly did good by her children. He pretended the slapping and hair-pulling didn’t exist, that the cellar was just a cellar and not a place to fear. It was hard to pretend these things were true, when the reality became increasingly harder to ignore.

Virgil fell asleep in the midst of this. Logan hadn’t realized this at first. His tired mind plunged on, continuing the nonsensical story.

“Then Batsy the Bat escaped the Witch’s dungeon. He flew as fast he could, to warn his friends...ah. Virgil what do you think their names should be?” Logan squinted, the dim light making it hard to see if his brother’s eyes were closed or not, “Virgil?”

His brother slumped against him, his breaths long and labored. Logan frowned, shaking his shoulder, “Virgil?!”

Virgil made a grumbling noise, “What?”

“You need to stay awake. You--you can’t fall asleep right now.”

“I’m tireeeed,” Virgil complained.

“I--I know, but please. It--it isn’t good to sleep right now.”

“Why?”

Logan’s throat constricted, “Be--because well. I haven’t finished the story yet.”

It was a lie. The truth was that sleeping could be a dangerous thing for a hypothermia victim. Sleeping could lead to death. He couldn’t tell his brother that. He refused to let Virgil experience more fright than he already had in his short life.

“Okaaay.” Virgil said.

Logan continued with the story, pulling all his concentration into it. Yet it wasn’t enough to keep Virgil awake. He kept drifting off, unable to keep his eyes open. At one point his brother down crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He sobbed, repeating the words over and over.

“It’s alright, you’re okay, everything is gonna be--gonna be,” Logan stammered, struggling to force the word out, “okay.”

It was then that Logan knew they couldn’t remain in the cellar any longer. He’d have to overcome his one true fear for the sake of their safety and survival. What he feared even more than his mother, was losing Virgil. Logan was smart. He knew the odds of a kindergartener and a high school sophomore staying together in the foster system was slim.

He had been selfish to allow his mother to continue tormenting Virgil. It was wrong. Now both him and his brother were paying for it.

Logan could fix this. He just had to pull out his phone and call emergency services. He had to call and resist his foolish fears of his mother and separation from his brother. With one arm still tucked around his brother, he pulled the phone out of his pocket. A battered, beaten thing he’d purchased with his first paycheck. His mother was completely unaware of its existence.

He pressed the power button on as he gathered up the courage to call. Except the screen remained completely blank. He pressed it again, this time harder, hoping it’d been a fluke. It wasn’t. Again and again, he kept pressing the button, irrationally hoping for a different result.

“No,” Logan swallowed heavily, “no, no, no this cannot be happening--” “Logey?” Virgil hiccuped, his big glassy eyes staring up as his older brother with concern.

“It’s okay, Virgil,” Logan murmured, “It’s okay, It’ll be okay--”

He couldn’t say the words any longer. Not when a sob wracked his throat, his vision turning hazy with tears. He couldn’t be strong any longer. He was weak. His heart beat faster, the chasm in his stomach deepening. His little brother said something, but he couldn’t hear it. All he heard was his mind mocking his failure. Shrill and scorching like his mother.

StUpID DiD yOU ThINK ThAT wAS GOING TO WORK?

You and your little brother are going to die and it’s all yOUR FAuLt

UsEleSS

Not EVEn YoUR OwN FATHER WAntED YOU--

“Hello? Whoever is contacting me at this hour better not have a good reason.”

Logan’s thoughts jolted to a halt. What? He glanced down at his phone, but it was still battered and dead. Virgil looked just as confused and lost as he felt. He hid his face in Logan’s shirt, whimpering softly.

“Who...are you?” Logan croaked, doing a poor disguise of covering up his breakdown moments before.

“I think that is perhaps a question I should be asking you.” The strange voice replied. It was definitely emanating from the phone, but how Logan had no clue. It made no logical sense.

“I--I don’t know.”

“You don’t know your name?”

“No! I mean of course I know my name! I mean, you can’t be real--I must be hallucinating.”

“Oh?” The voice responded with a touch of some unidentifiable emotion, “this must be your first time then.”

“First time what?” Logan snapped, a headache starting to take form. He regretted raising his voice when Virgil let out a cry. He murmured a soft apology to him, attempting to ignore how cold his brother felt.

“Is there someone else with you?”

“No,” Logan said, before hesitating, “I mean perhaps.”

“Perhaps?”

“You still haven’t responded to my question from before.”

“Let me broker a deal then. I’ll answer your question, if you tell me who you and your companion are.”

“Okay,” Logan shakes his head, wanting to laugh hysterically. What in Newton’s three laws of gravity was going on? Surely, he died. He died and this was some last minutes of brain activity occurring. Scientists after all, know very little what happens in one’s last moments of life. Nothing could quite prepare him for the answer the voice gave him, however.

“Well then, to quote a popular misguided piece of media, ‘you’re a wizard, Harry!’” The voice said, the verbal jazz hands evident in the voice’s dripping, dry wit. Something about it was painfully familiar.

“What.”

“You asked, I answered,” The voice chuckled, “now it’s your turn.”

“My--my name is Logan,” He said, blinking rapidly, “and my little brother..ahhh...oh! Vi-Virgil is here with me.”

“Logan, that’s your name? You’re sure?”

Logan frowned at that. Of course he was sure. Or was he? It was getting rather harder to focus. Or to breathe even. The crisp cold air hurt his lungs. Virgil slumped heavily against him, complete dead weight in his unconsciousness. Oh. That was bad. He knew that was bad.

“Logan?!” The voice yelled. Hmm, it sounded like they’ve been yelling at him for awhile now. He should acknowledge them. He nodded before pausing. Wait. He needed to respond verbally.

“Y-yes?”

“Finally. You seem like you’re doing absolutely fantastic,” The voice told him.

“Do I?” Logan asked, “I do not think I’m doing ‘fantastic’.”

“Where are you?”

Logan rattled off the address. Then he very casually added, “We’re locked in the cellar.”

“WHAT?!”

“It’s-s-s-s a punishment,” Logan shivered, his eyelids drooping against his will, “it’sssokay.”

“Yes, because all parenting books recommend disciplining your children by locking them in a cellar.” Maybe it was just Logan, but he got the impression the voice was being sarcastic.

“I need to cut the invocation call. I’ll be there soon.”

“Wh--how-hy?” Logan said, trying to speak three words at once. The voice didn’t respond. He tried shaking his battered phone as if that would do anything. It did not do anything.

The air frizzled in front of Logan. A golden spark appeared, expanding until it was one big golden shimmery oval. Logan stared at it, blinking rapidly. This was absurd. He most definitely had to be hallucinating. The golden oval ripples as a black fedora emerged from it, followed by a face and then a whole body.

“F--father?” Logan managed.

The man before him was older and dressed in strange clothing. Slivers of silver hair poked out from his hat, nestled among the chestnut hair. An unfamiliar gruesome scar ran alongside the left side of his face. But he recognized those hazel eyes anywhere. He stared at them at the mirror every morning.

He didn’t respond to Logan. He took a few steps before collapsing beside the huddled forms of Logan and Virgil. His gloved hands reached out, but he did not touch them. His mouth opened, but no sound came out of him. Then his gloves covered his face as he inhaled deeply. He removed them from his face, his expression carefully blank.

“I’m here.” He told Logan, extending a hand towards him, “and I won’t leave you or your brother this time.”

Logan stared at the yellow gloved hand before sluggishly panning his gaze up at his father. He didn’t know if he could trust him, let alone if he could trust that this was reality. But god, he wanted it to be real.

So cradling Virgil close to his chest with one arm, he took hold of his father’s hand. And then, with a bright flash of light, the cellar was empty.

Logan felt warm. A drizzling, dribbling, dripping like maple syrup down a fresh stack of buttermilk pancakes type of warmth. He should be alarmed by this for some reason, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be. Instead he made a contented noise, shifting closer to it. Someone chuckled, running a calloused hand through his hair. Logan stilled at the touch, the warmth evaporating from his veins. He waited for the fingers to grow taunt around a tuft of hair. For the harsh cacophony of his mother’s voice to rain down on him like hail. Nothing.

“Are you asleep, Little Tesla?”

The air in his lungs evaporated. Only one person had called him that and it certainly wasn’t his mother. As much as she expected him to receive good grades, she hadn’t been one to nurture his interests in 20th century scientists.

“Father?” Logan whispered.

“I’m here, I didn’t leave, just like I said I would.”

He opened his eyes to find his father was indeed there. Sitting on a wooden chair with sunken eyes as if he’d been awake for hours. Logan laid on a bed with silky sheets and an impossibly warm comforter. He had just barely enough to cover him--most of the blankets had been stolen by another small figure. Virgil. His little baby brother was with him, asleep and curled up in a small ball.

“Wha--” Logan started to say, until everything hit him. The cellar. The strange bodiless voice. The gleaming gold portal. Father. Darkness.

“Yes, yes, I know it’s not at all a lot to take in, but you have magic. And you found me again, just like I’d hope you would.”

“Found you?” Logan asked, a hardness to his tone, “Assuming this isn’t a hallucination, you left me with h-her, you never came back and suddenly because I possess magic, I’m what? Worth something?”

“Yes, no!” His father cried out with a frustrated growl, “Listen, Logan. My relationship with your mother was extremely healthy, as I’m sure you can agree. Not unhealthy in the slightest. When it ended, your mother left a lovely parting gift.”

Here, he rubs a hand against the facial scar almost absent-mindedly, “I wanted to find you, I searched everywhere, but your mother is smart and covers her tracks well. I’m...sorry I couldn’t find you or your brother sooner. You’re important to me, magic or no magic.”

“How can I trust you?” Logan asked, “How can I trust that you’re not anything like her?”

He expected his father to be upset by the accusation, but instead he just smirked.

“You’re good to be suspicious. It’s a good trait, don’t ever lose it,” He said, adjusting his gloves, “I can tell you, that I will not harm you or your brother. I can say I will teach you magic, if you desire. I can let you know that I will let you walk out the door with your brother, and you won’t ever have to see me or your mother again. But you have no true way of trusting a man that has, from what you know, abandoned you completely until just now.

“You have two options. Either accept you cannot completely trust what I say is true and proceed with caution, or you can leave with your brother, find a way to support the two of you. You’re smart, Logan. I trust you could figure it out.”

Logan swallowed. He was indeed smart--or knowledgeable enough to know there was little choice in the matter. He was just fifteen. He can’t support Virgil and him--not legally anyway. It’d be difficult to cover it up. Child Protection Services would be on them in a matter of weeks, if not days.

Good case scenario, they stayed together in the foster system. Bad case scenario, they ended up separated. Worst case scenario? They ended up back at their mother’s, because they don’t believe either of Logan’s or Virgil’s claims and the cycle continues without end.

So, his father. He was the only option, and he knew it. As much bitterness as Logan held for the man, there’s also yearning in equal spades. He used to spend nights crying for him with his mother yelling at him to shut up. Sometimes she’d beat him for it, telling him his father was never coming back. Then he’d snap back that she was wrong and he’d prove Logan right by coming back. Until little by little, he stopped.

He couldn’t trust his father, the man even admitted it. He just had to hope it’d be better, even though apparently the man believed in magic. Logan was doing his best at the moment to deny it existed. It couldn’t exist, last night had to be a fluke of some sort and even if it wasn’t, it was too much for him to focus on at the moment.

“As long as I have your word that you won’t intentionally hurt Virgil and I, we will stay with you.” Logan says, before offering his hand towards his father.

Father took a look at the extended hand, eyes softening, before clasping it, “You have my word, Logan, that I will not harm you or Virgil as long as you remain in my care.”

They shook on it. Logan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and then--and then, his vision blurred. A sob and then another erupted until he clenched his teeth, holding the rest back. For the second time within twenty-four hours he had shown weakness. First to his brother and now, now to his father who above all he should show no signs to. But like that creative writing assignment in the 8th grade, he completely failed.

Somehow halfway the handshake got turned into an embrace. His father hugged him, a calloused hand softly carding through his hair once more.

“Shh, Logan, you’ve been so strong, stronger than most. You won’t have to be strong alone any longer. Let it all out.”

Logan didn’t know what to think of his father’s words. It wasn’t like a set of logical propositions or a step-by-step formula for science. He couldn’t know for certain if they were genuine. But in this moment, he was but a little boy with his father back. So he dug his head into his father’s chest and finally cried. His father, in turn, did not berate or beat him for it. Instead, he held onto his son as he whispered reassurances all the while.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #kat writes

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rose-blooms-red · 3 years

Note

If you are still accepting prompts maybe soft wars! Boba. I remember you had a very cool series with him. Maybe after Edee adopted him and finally meeting Neyo. Angst or no Angst up to you.

ihdsf most of my other prompts are angst barring a few sooooo no angst for this one! XD.......or well, mostly not angst. Blockade, who is briefly mentioned in here, belongs to the lovely @thefoundationproject

[read on Ao3]

“You are about ten tons of rage in a very small, deceivingly cute body vod’ika,” the clone — the vod — under him drawls in observation, sharp and amused. Like Boba isn’t holding a knife to his neck.

Boba’s cheeks go warm against his will and he glares, huffs, retreats and regroups.

The vod moves and it’s smooth, easy, dangerous, as he gets his feet under him. Boba doesn’t know who this is, and the tattooed designation does nothing to help him but—

Boba’s good, he knows this because his father has taught him and helped train him. There was never any question that Boba would be good. But this vod might be better and Boba can’t, for the life of him, figure out why he didn’t stop Boba before he managed to get the knife under his throat.

8826 grins, a slash of teeth, “Nice to meet you too.”

“Haven’t actually met you,” Boba feels the need to point out and 8826 sighs, calls out to the house.

“Thought you said the kid was smart.”

There’s a beat and Fox appears, narrow-eyed annoyed and equipped with whatever concoction Ponds or whoever has foisted off on him today.

“Not my fucking fault the idiocy is contagious,” he grumbles, pauses, looks the scene over with a raised eye, and Boba hopes he hasn’t clocked the ruffled clothes, the knife Boba is trying to slip back into it’s holster, the stuff Boba knocked over with the scare.

It’s futile of course, but Boba is hopeful.

“You wound me,” 8826 deadpans, and collapses onto the couch with lazy limbs and a tilt of his head, “Not a word about me to the kid? And here I thought I was the favourite.”

Fox rolls his eyes, “The only favourite I’ve ever fucking had for anything and everything is Blockade, and with the rate you all are going that’s never going to change.’

8826 pouts, “Really kih’vod, my heart, how will I go on?”

“Same as you always do” Fox answers, dead-eyed and dry, rolls his eyes, “Did you even tell him your name or did the introduction get lost with the fucking mess you both made of my living room.”

Boba flushes again, and 8826 rolls his eyes, “Apparently I chose a bad time to swing by and see my dearest, darling, baby brother and walked in while the kid was practicing.”

Fox sighs, looks up at the ceiling for patience, “Kid, what have we said about practicing in the living room?”

Boba winces, stops himself from shuffling his feet and tries to look as repentant as possible, “Don’t?”

Fox raises an eyebrow, takes a sip of his concoction, winces and nods, “Good.”

He turns a glare on the vod that Boba still hasn’t been given a name for, “Just by virtue of being the only fucking one in the whole sithsdamn squad with both a functioning brain and common fucking sense, I’m still the fucking oldest, asshole.”

8826 turns a pitying look to Boba and shakes his head slowly even as he says, “Of course you are.”

Fox narrows his eyes, “I fucking hope it takes you weeks to get all the fucking glitter out,” he hisses and turns to Boba.

“Kid, Neyo. Neyo, Kid. If I come back and my house is destroyed I will retaliate appropriately.”

Oh, Boba thinks, gulps and feels, suddenly, more nervous, so this is Neyo.

8826 — Neyo — huffs as Fox leaves, “Knew it was him.”

Boba stands, awkward in the middle of the room and Neyo raises an eyebrow.

“You gonna stand there all day vod’ika?”

Boba winces, shrugs, “Sorry about the knife,” he mutters.

Neyo huffs, “I’ve had worse, besides you weigh as much as a third-cycle, you barely did any damage.”

Boba squawks, “I passed my verd'goten! I’m an adult!”

Neyo hums, “A very tiny, stabby one,” he agrees and Boba wrinkles his nose.

Neyo has been on Concord Dawn the entire time Boba has been here, this is the first time he’s seen him. He tries not to let that hurt him.

“You didn’t stop me,” Boba finally says, question and defense all rolled into one.

Neyo stretches, sighs, shugs as he sprawls even more than before, “You would’ve ended up getting hurt.”

“Okay,” Boba allows as, gives that to him and narrows his eyes, crosses his arms “But why’ve I never seen you before?”

Neyo waves a hand, “Had to let the happy family settle in.”

Boba doesn’t know Neyo well, can’t decipher any hidden meaning behind it or read the tone of it, but his shoulders hitch up in self defense anyways.

“Why are you visiting now then?” he asks, and he doesn’t mean to sound so bitter.

“Extenuating circumstances.” Neyo says, waves his hand, “Nothing against you kid.”

“Oh.” he’d thought it was his fault Neyo hadn’t been coming. Thought he was being blamed for some unknown slight. It had made him a little angry to think about, a little upset.

It’s more of a relief than he thought it would be to know that wasn’t the case.

He tries to think of something to say, can’t and swallows thickly. Remembers something.

“What was Fox talking about? With the glitter.”

Neyo’s eyes narrow and he huffs, makes a face Boba can only describe as a pout, “Absolutely nothing. Completely unrelated, I have to get my dearest little brother back for certain wake-up calls, wanna hear about the time he ate trash out of the recycler?”

Boba raises an eyebrow, relaxes a little bit, “Fox?”

Neyo grins manic glee, “Oh yes.”

Boba considers, debates, looks at the nonchalant sprawl and the mess on the floor and shrugs.

“Sure.”

#star wars #the clone wars #tcw #soft wars #Boba Fett #Commander Neyo #Commander Fox #ro'swriting #mywriting #lesbianpraetor #ro answers

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

next chapter of the fic with Grumbot and Jrumbot. looks like it’s going to maybe have 3 or 4 chapters, so be on the lookout for more.

Grian was the first to wake up, though not naturally, having had a bit of a nightmare. He looked around in the early morning light towards the closet, glad he had broken it before going to sleep. He then looked down to his side where Grumbot seemed to still be in sleep mode. Grian carefully Pat his son’s head before getting out of bed. He made sure neither Grum nor Mumbo woke up before heading outside and stretching his wings.

They had long since been sore from dodging Grumbot attacking him, so he flew a bit, looking around and the nearby landscapes. It looked lovely with the rising sun lighting it all up, but he was distracted as he pulled his communicator out.

Grian landed on a tree as he began to scroll through all his old chat logs before landing on one he had abandoned years ago. It was labeled with the symbol of a broken portal. Grian selected it and then started scrolling up quickly, keeping a close eye on the dates before finally stopping.

<MiniMuka> he wasn’t even in the list of people around, but he was there!

<Grian> he’s technically not a person. You said he was in the nether?

<MiniMuka> yeah, just standing there not doing much.

<Grian> I would be surprised if he was planning a rustic house to build there.

<MiniMuka> in the nether?!

<Grian> yeah, he REALLY likes rustic houses. I sort of try to keep him in my closet because otherwise he might turn everything into a rustic house. Once he’s done, I’ll put him back.

Grian sighed. That was the last time anyone had seen that creation of his. He wasn’t sure if NPG had been destroyed or just didn’t make it through a portal, but that world was gone now, and so was NPG.

“It’s not going to happen again. I can’t do that. And Mumbo will make sure I don’t.” Grian spoke to no one in particular, wiping away a few tears that formed as he put away his communicator. He then glided back home, finding the other two were still asleep. Having little else to do, he started making breakfast.

Mumbo was quick to get up when the smell of breakfast reached his nose. It also made him jolt awake enough that Grumbot also woke up. “Morning you two. How did you sleep Grum?”

“I’m not sure. It was very odd and I’m not sure how to best explain it in terms you would understand. It wasn’t quite watching a false reality, but it also wasn’t just nothing at all.”

Grian nodded, putting a plate of food in front of Mumbo and a diamond in front of Grumbot. “A diamond?”

“Well I don’t want to leave him out, and it’s not like he’ll eat real food. At least I don’t think. I can make more if you’re really so upset about it.”

Beside them, Grumbot picked up the diamond and seemed to eat it, leaving Mumbo and Grian stunned. It hadn’t gone through any slot, it just seemed to phase through the monitor screen. “I guess that answers that.” Mumbo spoke in as level a tone as he could manage. He was about to start eating his own breakfast when Grumbot spoke again.

“You lost.”

“What do you mean Grum?” Grian asked, ready to get something else for his robot son.

“You… you didn’t even vote for yourself.” The words hit Grian like a brick and he dropped what he was preparing. “You didn’t even get a single vote a-and Scar… he was the one who won. I didn’t do anything right. You trapped me in a box. None of it was real and I was just sitting there.”

Mumbo looked between Grumbot and Grian. One seemed to be having an existential crisis while the other was starting to have a panic attack. Mumbo wanted to help Grian first, but realized it would probably work better to help Grum since his crisis seemed to be what was affecting Grian in the first place. “Grum, calm down. Look at me.” He did his best to seem calm for the robot as he looked back up at him. “You did wonderfully. We were the ones who couldn’t do it right. People loved your songs and the things you made and the other hermits liked you. We never wanted you to be locked away, but at the time we didn’t know what else to do. We could have told you the truth and helped you through it, but then what? We couldn’t easily move you around so it would just end with you sad or disappointed and all alone. So we faked it.

“But now we’ve changed it. You’ll be able to stay with us and move around and you don’t have to stay focused on election stuff. Maybe you can do redstone like me, or build like your dad or something else entirely. Just because we messed up doesn’t mean that you can’t do something extraordinary now. Alright?”

Grumbot slowly nodded before tackling Mumbo with a hug. The mustached man smiled down at his son before looking over at Grian, glad to see he calmed down a little. “Now, how about instead of diamonds we get you a nice plate of quartz to munch on?”

It seemed to be a good idea and Grumbot seemed to calm down with something new in front of him. Mumbo excused himself and Grian for a few minutes before going into the next room over. “How’s you get so good with words?” Grian asked, making Mumbo shrug.

“Mumbo the chat therapist helps people who are lost internally.”

“Mumbo, this wasn’t the chat.”

“Well I was able to help, wasn’t I?”

“Okay yeah. But I still want to know, how did he suddenly know?”

Mumbo sighed. “We gave him a diamond. We built him to take question diamonds and look into mayoral databases and what not, so when we gave him that one for breakfast it must have triggered all that.”

“Why didn’t you remove it when remaking him?”

“I tried Grian, I got rid of what I knew I could, but that wasn’t much. I was scared if I changed too much, it would have done us better to build him from scratch. What would you do then? If he looked up at us with blank eyes not knowing who we were?”

Grian froze. “I…”

Immediately Mumbo was regretting his words. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I just. Oh I’m such a spoon. Let’s just… do you want me to watch Grum while you build Jrumbot’s body?”

The builder smiled at the idea. “Yeah, that sounds nice. Then when I’m done we can switch off.”

With that, the two of them left the room to be with Grumbot again.

Grian bounced his foot as he waited. Building Jrumbot had gone much faster than building Grum. He already had all the materials, knew how big to make everything, even making the body a bit smaller since he was supposed to be Grum’s little brother. But that meant he was now just sitting on the sidelines while Mumbo worked.

Since Jrumbot didn’t have as complex circuitry as Grumbot did, Mumbo had to do more work instead of just rebuilding what had been there. It even got to the point where Grum powered down so the redstoner could go back and forth between the two bots for reference.

Because of that, it ended up with Grian sitting by himself. He wanted to try and do something to ease his boredom, but if anything went wrong and he wasn’t there, he would never forgive himself. Instead, Grian pulled his communicator out and started messaging Xisuma.

<Grian> Hey X, sorry we’re not back yet. Everything’s fine and Grum is up and running, but remember that shop that looked like Grumbot?

<Xisuma> wasn’t that supposed to be his sibling or something?

<Xisuma> oh

<Xisuma> I now understand why it’s taking so long.

<Grian> yeah, Mumbo’s currently doing all his circuits and stuff. Grum’s helping and I’m on emergency standby

<Grian> I don’t want anyone getting hurt but I’m so booooored

<Xisuma> well you’ve been so busy you haven’t said much. So more updates?

<Grian> yeah, sure. We got Grum functioning just last night.

<Xisuma> that went well?

<Grian> he was a bit confused, but I was so tired I just went to bed. I think only problem at the time was he didn’t, still doesn’t, know how to walk.

<Xisuma> Really?

<Grian> not like we originally built him with legs.

<Xisuma> that’s true. Anything else?

<Grian> he finally found out everything that happened after his initial breakdown.

<Grian> it was rough at first but it’s fine now

<Xisuma> he did? How bad did he take it.

<Xisuma> Oh okay that’s good.

<Grian> yeah, we found out he can just eat diamonds and quartz and whatnot.

<Grian> Diamonds still activate his searching of the mayoral reservoirs so that’s fun.

<Xisuma> I see

<Grian> oh thats an idea!

<Xisuma> what is?

<Grian> :3

<Xisuma> oh dear

Grian looked up from his communicator, managing to spot Mumbo climbing between the bots. It probably hadn’t been that long since he last checked on things, but he didn’t have much else to do. The builder walked over and tapped on Jrumbot’s body, snickering slightly at the yelp from inside before Mumbo climbed out. “What do you need Grian?”

“Just, hoping for some updates. Like, more than just ‘going well’ or something like that. I can’t get in there to see and even then I wouldn’t be able to tell how it’s going by looking at it.”

Mumbo ran his fingers through his hair. “Well you see, it is at the very least going well.” Grian glared at him a little. “What I mean is I’m very glad I did the past redstone circuitry for him instead of just leaving it blank. I never fully implemented it, yes, but the fact that I did it saved plenty of time.”

Mumbo sat down to get comfortable before explaining further. “See, with Grumbot, we’d already put in all the circuits save for moving about. Because of that it was just replicating everything already done. Jrumbot on the other hand doesn’t have much. For the most part I’m trying to replicate what Grum has, but I can’t entirely. If it were a perfect copy, we would just have two Grumbots, just in different bodies. The biggest roadblock would have been replacing the function that allows the connection with the mayoral reservoirs. If I didn’t have anything before, I would have been stumped on what to do. He wouldn’t have any need for that so theoretically it could be removed, but at the same time, it could damage the rest of the circuits.”

Grian spoke up to check if he was understanding this all right. “So, what you’re saying is the political stuff is essential and you needed something new and essential to replace it?”

“Exactly!” Mumbo nodded before continuing. “The redstone I already did for Jrum was functions for helping sales. I never fully implemented it since people did buy from the shop, but it was still there.”

“And so Grum’s thing is politics and Jrum’s is capitalism?”

“Yes I suppose you could-” Mumbo stopped and Grian was able to recognise he had come up with an idea. “That’s it!” Before the avian could ask for clarification, Mumbo was already climbing back into Jrumbot’s body. Not wanting to ruin whatever train of thought was happening, Grian instead sat down on the nearby grass to just listen to the sounds of Mumbo working.

Mumbo and Grian stood next to each other, looking at Jrumbot. This was their third test. The first two had gone okay, but there were still some issues. “Which of us should do the honors this time?” Grian looked over at the redstoner. “I say you since you’ve done most of the work.”

“But I did last attempt. It’s your turn.”

“The only reason I did it the first time is because I knew we would have a problem. When it works, you should be the one turning everything on.”

“Oh alright fine.” Mumbo sighed and then stepped closer to Jrumbot and pressed the power button near the base of his neck. Immediately he jumped back and the two watched as Jrumbot turned on and started looking around. “Jrumbot?” Jrum looked over at Mumbo and Grian. His motions looked like he was trying to speak, but it wasn’t working. “What? It was fine the last test? What did I do wrong?”

Jrumbot tried some gestures for communicating and slowly it worked. After some charades they decided to test if giving Jrum a diamond would help him out since some of the circuits were similar to Grum and he needed diamonds for certain functions. Indeed, when they gave him a diamond, it helped for a bit. By the time they had given him four with not much more permanent success, Grian asked if they should consider turning him off to fix things. When the question was asked, Jrumbot immediately started running off. “No! No turning me off!”

Mumbo and Grian were both left shocked. “What? But we didn’t give him another diamond? How is his voice working again?” Mumbo asked the avian, who seemed to realize just what was going on.

“Mumbo, his voice was fine the entire time.” Grian answered between some giggles. “He was just pretending to get our diamonds.” Mumbo looked between Grian and Jrum, who was currently admiring the diamonds he had gotten off of his dads.

“Well!” Mumbo huffed before walking over to Grumbot’s body. “I suppose that means we can turn Grum back on too.”

He didn’t even need Grian’s confirmation with how the avian lit up at the statement. Soon Grum was back on and was quickly moved closer to Jrumbot. “Hello. I assume you are Jrumbot, my younger brother.”

Jrum looked up from his diamonds to look at Grum. “Uh… yeah that sounds right! Look what I got!” And he held out the gemstones for Grumbot to look at.

“Impressive. Does anything happen when you consume them?” Grumbot asked with a slight tilt of his head. Jrum looked back down and his diamonds as if contemplating the question before he pulled them close to his chest.

“I don’t want to eat them! Then I would lose them!” A small hatch opened up on Jrumbot’s chest which surprised both Grian and Mumbo, not having built anything there. The smaller robot then placed his diamonds in the hatch before closing it, making sure he wouldn’t lose the items. “There! Now they’re all safe!” Jrum said proudly, placing his hands on his hips and puffing his chest out.”

Mumbo cleared his throat a little to get the attention of both of the bots, who thankfully both looked over at him. “I’m glad you two are getting along, but now that Grian and I know you’re both working, how about we take you home?”

Jrumbot was the first to answer, jumping at Mumbo and attaching himself to the redstoner’s arm. “Yeah! Let’s go there! Wait where is it?”

Grumbot simply walked over to his dads and looked at Jrum. “It was where we were initially built. You may recall existing in the shopping district as a shop.”

Jrumbot’s screen eyes lit up with animated sparkles. “Oh yeah! People got mustaches and shirts! I hated it!” And the final sentence was said in the same cheery tone as the first two sentences. Grian immediately reacted poorly and Mumbo was left stuttering out an ask for clarification. “Cause they got cool stuff but also took the diamonds I had!”

“Well, as your dads, Grian and I will make sure people don’t steal diamonds from you again.” Mumbo assured Jrum, prying the bot off his arm so he could carry him normally. “How about you two come with me and help pack things up while Grian helps make the way home?”

“Yeah! That sounds fun!” Jrum replied, making Mumbo chuckle. The smaller robot jumped out of Mumbo’s arms and ran towards the nearby house, attempting to pick it up. Grumbot followed behind to help his younger brother and lead him inside.

Mumbo looked back to Grian and gave him a hug. “See? It all worked out fine. And even if something does go wrong, it’s not like either of us are doing it along.”

Grian smiled back at Mumbo before letting the redstoner head off to the house and pack things up with the bots. The builder then looked to an open area and started using his Watcher magic to make them a portal home. It wasn’t too difficult to summon, so everything wasn’t quite prepared for the trip home, So Grian ended up just leaning against the portal and messaging X.

<Grian> The boys are both working. We’re packing things up and should be back within the hour.

<Xisuma> Where are you likely coming in? I’d like to be there when you arrive.

<Grian> Probably where we left. The roof of Grum’s old box. That or it’ll just be spawn. I can’t be completely sure without using more power than I’d like to.

<Xisuma> That’s understandable. I’ll be at the box and can fly over if you four end up at spawn.

The avian put his comm away and then watched the house, seeing the movement coming from inside through the windows. Some laughter, mainly from Mumbo and Jrum, was loud enough to make it to Grian’s ears, making him smile even more. Mumbo was right. It was going to be fine.

The portal did indeed end up sending them to the top of the box and Xisuma was already there waiting. Before the four of them went through, Grian gave the bots, more specifically Jrumbot, an explanation of what was going to happen. It took a little longer than anticipated as Jrum asked plenty of questions. His dads were happy to answer at first, but soon they had to try and get the robot to save his questions for later.

The second they were all through, Jrumbot zoomed at Xisuma and nearly pushed the admin of the building with his momentum. “Hi! Are you Xisuma?” Mumbo was quickly running over to help save X from the energetic robot while Grian worked on closing the portal. But before the redstoner could reach them, Xisuma answered affirmatively and was tackled to the ground with a hug. “My dads said you’re sort of like their dad so you’re my grandpaaa!”

As Mumbo helped Xisuma up, the admin just chuckled a little. “You certainly are an energetic little one. Here, I have a gift for you.” Jrumbot started bouncing a little when X said this, only to stop when the admin pulled out a communicator.

“What’s that?” Jrum asked. He wasn’t happy about the gift not being diamonds, but at the same time he wasn’t going to refuse a gift, so he took it anyway.

“It’s a communicator. Everyone on this server gets one when they join. Your brother already has one because I knew he was going to be joining, but you were a little bit of a surprise, though a welcome one at that.”

“Oh, okay!” Jrumbot chirped a little, making Grian look up at the noise. He looked up just in time to see Jrum running over towards him and Grum, showing off his new comm to the latter of them. “Look what I got from our grandpa!”

As Jrum continued to chat with his brother, Grian made eye contact with Mumbo. “Did he just…?”

“Well, they were both meant to be a mix of us. I guess when putting everything in, Jrum got a bit more of you.”

Xisuma brushed himself off a little before looking over at the bots. “Well, I certainly see the resemblance to Grian. I wouldn’t be surprised if we had another sort of war with the two of them around.”

Grian feigned offense at the statement. “How dare you ever think I would do such a thing. Especially around my children. Why I would never do such a thing. Only a pesky bird would and I am not at all a pesky bird.” And to drive home his sarcasm, he fluttered his wings slightly.

“Of course, no pesky birds here.” Mumbo crossed his arms, though he also smiled.

“Well, I’m sure you two want to settle in, so I’ll give them a quick rundown of what they need to know.” Xisuma spoke up, clasping his hands together in a clap. “I’m sure I won’t need to go over as much since they haven’t been on many other servers so telling them rules that may differ shouldn’t be a problem. How about tomorrow we see if we can’t gather everyone else to officially meet them.”

“That sounds great X.” Mumbo nodded before letting the admin walk over to the bots. He and Grian had to pull Jrum off of X more than once before the admin was done and flew off.

Getting everything over to the jungle was a bit more of a hassle since that involved more work then just walking through a portal and carrying everything a few meters. For the most part they were able to just carry the shulker boxes in their inventories, but they didn’t exactly have a good way to move the bulky chargers they had created for the bots. The two also had some mobility issues from being new to their bodies, so giving them elytra and giving them a crash course in flying didn’t seem like a good idea. Boats were also out of the question for right now since they didn’t know how well the bots would take to water.

The last option was the nether, and fortunately Mumbo still had extra obsidian to make a portal with. Grian stayed behind to break the portal once the other three were through since he could easily fly home along with the fact that using Mumbo’s home portal was better than trying to use the mess of obsidian that was his own portal.

The avian beat them back, though mostly due to the fact that the bots had never been to the nether and also didn’t have much gear to their names right now so it took longer to get them through, even with how the area was built up. Grian giggled a little at the obviously singed mustache of Mumbo while the bots looked non-plussed and snacking on some quartz. “There’s two of them. There’s only two of them. But it was like herding cats. Worse actually.” Mumbo rambled as Grian just continued to laugh, giving the redstoner a water bottle to pour over his mustache, a tiny bit of smoke coming from it as it was completely put out.

“Do we want to set up two of the chargers now?” Grian asked, trying to distract Mumbo. “Or should I work on building them rooms at my place?”

“Set up the chargers!” Mumbo answered a little too quickly. “Or, well. If it’s just the three of you, you could go to your base and I can set the chargers up here while you do that!”

“You just want me to deal with them by myself now since you had to, right?”

“Of course.”

Grian smiled and walked over to the bots. “Alright, who wants to try out a minecart and go over to Dad’s mansion?”

“Me! I do! I do!”

#hermitcraft #grian #mumbo jumbo #grumbot #jrumbot #xisuma #npc grian #avian!Grian #watcher!grian

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solarune · 3 years

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@rasapad said: Hello! Here’s an idea: “Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?” + Renjun, and motorcyclist au… except let’s make it fun and have the reader as the one with the motorbike!

pairing: huang renjun x reader

genre: angst, some fluff, college au

warnings: swearing

word count: 1,996

a/n: my first renjun fic!! hopefully i got his characterization right, please let me know what you think!

Renjun has never been one to take risks. Before every choice he makes, he always makes a mental list of pros and cons, thinking of every single outcome possible and what they could potentially lead to. Do the pros outweigh the cons? Does this benefit him in the long run or this is only temporary? Will he get hurt?

Renjun never takes risks but when it comes to you, it’s very hard to say no.

And that’s exactly how he finds himself on the back of your motorcycle, hands clasped together over your torso as he holds on for dear life while you zoom down the highway. You weave around cars and buses alike to avoid the traffic, some of them honking at the two of you, but unlike Renjun, you like taking risks. Where Renjun is logical, you’re emotional. Where Renjun is overthinking, you’re spontaneously doing. The two of you are exact opposites and it’s for that reason that you’re best friends and for that reason that Renjun caught feelings for you. How could he not? You’re everything he isn’t. You with your confidence, no bullshit attitude, easy laughter, and attention-grabbing aura. You’re everything he wants to be.

You reach a red light on the way to your destination and Renjun’s grip finally loosens to allow his hands to rest for a few seconds. The leather jacket that you’re wearing squeaks as you turn to look over your shoulder at him and you push the visor of your helmet up to reveal a bright smile. His heart skips a beat and he clears his throat, raising an eyebrow and asking in a bored voice, “So are you going to tell me where we’re going or are you just going to keep on driving? I would at least like to know which ditch I’m potentially going to be left for dead in because of this metal death trap you’ve forced me on to.”

You roll your eyes with a smile still on your face as one of your hands leaves the handlebars to gently hit his leg. “We’re not going to die, Junnie, you’ve been on my motorcycle enough times to know that! And-”

“And yet I still feel like I’m close to death every time I get on,” he interrupts you. “Funny how that works.”

“And no, I’m not telling you where we’re going,” you continue with a pointed look after his rude interruption. “It’s a surprise!”

“You know I hate surprises,” he grumbles but his words are lost in the sound of your motorcycle’s engine revving the second the light turns green. His grip on you tightens once more and when he lets out a squeak when he feels you accelerate, he prays to every higher power out there that you didn’t hear him. It would only cause you to go faster and it’s taking everything in Renjun to not press his entire body up against you and hide his face in your neck until you get to your destination.

Renjun doesn’t even notice that he falls asleep until you’re shaking him awake, soft voice calling out his name while the two of you just sit on your parked motorcycle. His vision is blurry from just waking up but it doesn’t explain why everything is dark and he begins to panic and is about to call out to you for help when he realizes that he’s still wearing your spare helmet.

“You’ve been overworking yourself, haven’t you, Junnie?” you question him as you take the helmet from his hands. “I don’t know why you keep doing this to yourself, you know that lack of sleep and caffeine just end up making you more tired.”

Renjun huffs as he rubs at his tired eyes. He knows that but-

“I can’t afford to waste any time, (Y/N). My classes as a second year music theory major are some of the hardest classes I’m going to take, I can’t afford to fail.”

The two of you have had this argument before; Renjun telling you that sacrificing proper sleep is necessary to maintain his perfect GPA and you telling him that taking a 15 minute break and getting at least 8 hours of sleep twice a week isn’t going to kill him. It’s like you’re both talking to a brick wall but neither of you are willing to back down. Renjun wants to succeed and you just want to keep your best friend alive and functioning.

But you don’t argue with him this time. “I know,” you simply reply, and Renjun is taken aback. No snarky response? No threats to his life? What the hell is going on? “Anyways, we’re here!”

When he looks around, all he sees are trees and grass lit up only by the moon. That’s it, Renjun thinks to himself. I’m going to die here. You begin to walk deeper into the forest and Renjun scrambles off of your bike and runs to catch up with you, the darkness of the unfamiliar forest keeping him on edge. “Can you please tell me what we’re doing here?” he asks. He doesn’t care if he sounds scared or desperate because those are the only two things he’s feeling right now. “Because the more we walk, the more I feel like you’re going to murder me-”

The two of you emerge out onto a cliff and the entire city is laid out before you. It’s enough to take Renjun’s breath away as he stares down at all of the lights, and even in the dark, he can just make out all of the cars on the highway that you were on before. When he takes a deep breath and the cold night air enters his lungs, Renjun feels like he’s at the top of the world. When he looks over at you, he finds that you’re already looking at him with a fond smile on your face and Renjun can’t help but smile back. “This place is amazing, (Y/N)!” he exclaims. “How did you even find it?”

You take a seat on the edge of the cliff, your feet dangling off and swinging in the air, and you pat the ground beside you as a silent request for him to sit beside you. “I was just driving around one night looking for a place to think and just happened to come here.” You shrug and don’t even look up at him as you pull up handfuls of grass. “It’s been around a month since I first found it and I thought it was finally time to bring you here.”

Renjun only nods in response and a comfortable silence falls over the two of you while the wind and muffled sounds from the city provide you with background noise.

“Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?” you ask randomly and Renjun swears he almost topples off the cliff from how fast his entire body turns to look at you. You’re staring up at the moon and even though you’re not looking at him, Renjun can tell that you have a strange look in your eyes. He doesn’t like that. “I’ve always thought that moon is pretty, but to be honest…” Your eyes finally meet his and a sad smile appears on your face. “I think you’re prettier.”

All Renjun can do is stare at you as he attempts to process what you just said to him. “Are you okay?” he asks, leaning forward to touch the back of his hand to your forehead. “Are you sick? Why are you being so weird tonight?”

You swat his hand away with a laugh, but the happiness on your face is short-lived and is immediately replaced by a somber expression. “I’m not sick, Junnie, I’m fine.”

When Renjun looks at you, he can tell there’s more you want to say but you just don’t know how. So he waits in silence, allowing you to gather your thoughts and giving you the time that you need to say what you want. Maybe her dog died, Renjun thinks to himself, trying to think of every possible thing that could have happened that would cause you to be this serious around him. Or she had a bad day, maybe it was her idiotic chemistry lab partner. Or-

“I dropped out today,” you finally blurt out. “Like, out of college.”

All of the air feels like it just got knocked out of Renjun’s lungs. “You what? Why?” It’s okay, it’s fine, he reassures himself. She’s always been impulsive. Maybe she just needed this semester off and she’ll come back next year. And it’s not like I’ll never see her again.

“I’m moving to America to live with my sister.”

No.

“What the fuck, (Y/N)?” Renjun practically shouts as he jumps up from his seat on the ground. “This isn’t funny, stop joking around.”

“I’m not joking around, Renjun,” you say softly as you get up to stand in front of him. “I’m leaving in 2 weeks.”

Renjun. You never call him that. It’s always ‘Junnie’ or ‘Jun’ or ‘idiot’. Never ‘Renjun’.

His vision goes blurry and Renjun doesn’t even realize that he’s crying until he feels tears running down his cheeks. He wipes away at them angrily as he glares at you. “What the fuck were you thinking, (Y/N)? Why didn’t you tell me you were thinking of dropping out? I could have helped you, we could have figured this out together!”

“This is exactly why I didn’t tell you,” you respond, and Renjun can hear frustration in your voice. “I knew you would be like this. You wouldn’t understand-”

“Understand what?” he asks. “Understand that you just threw your entire life away?”

“Understand that this is me finally starting to live the life that I want!” you retort and at this point, you’re both shouting at each other. Your fights have never been like this before and the anger between you two is so visceral that it makes Renjun even more scared. “I don’t belong here, Renjun; in this school, this city, this country. There’s so many things the world has to offer that I wouldn’t ever learn in school and I want to find out what they are. I’m tired of sitting still. I want to do something.”

Renjun doesn’t know what to say at this point. You’ve always been restless but he didn’t think it would come to this. You’re taking a big risk and even though the decision was never his, he still feels scared.

“I’m not like you, Junnie.” Your voice is soft and when Renjun looks at you, all he sees is sadness and uncertainty, plain as day on your face. “There isn’t one thing I particularly like enough to study, I don’t have a dream job, I’m not passionate about something that’s able to make me a ton of money in the real world. At this point, I don’t even know what the hell comes after moving to America. But I need to get out of here.”

More silence. Renjun can’t bring himself to say anything. His mind is blank.

“I wish it wasn’t like this. I wish I could be like you,” you confess. “You’re always so sure of yourself, you always know the right choices to make to get to where you want to be. You’re so smart, Junnie. I wish I could be like that.”

Renjun’s hand balls up into a fist at his side. “You are smart, (Y/N), don’t you dare think otherwise. I may not agree with your decision but I always knew deep down that college isn’t meant for you.”

He looks back out onto the view of the city. I’ve always wanted to be like her but she wants to be like me. How ironic. Now he knows why you brought him here after all this time. You were waiting for the right moment. “I just wish you weren’t leaving me.”

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