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#and hope that maybe someone else can save their friend
h-didanart · 4 months
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Ok just got an idea
What if jack-o-moon got a virus and bloodmoon go's to check on jack-o-moon and bloodmoon gets attacked by him and bloodmoon doesn't want to hurt his new friend so he's begging for jack-o-moon to stop so bloodmoon and jack-o-moon won't get hurt and others here the fight they see bloodmoon and jack-o-moon
I feel like bloodmoon has gotten hurt by jack-o-moon before the others came
Also I feel like puppet would now that there's something wrong with jack-o-moon
I like the way you think :)
That is a very amazing idea, and wouldn’t you know it, it kinda fits with my ‘Jack is comedically stronger than Bloodmoon’ head canon.
Ooh and the feelings from this, I can see two variations here.
One, the twins are fiercely protective over their friend//fight buddy and really really don’t want anything to harm them, so they refuse to fight and get hurt.
Ooor >:) it’s a post-April 14 thing and only Original remains, he still befriends Jack and they are buddies, and then this, and Original is terrified of hurting Jack while trying to help, because Jack is the only person he has left, he doesn’t want to lose someone so close to him, not again
I do really like this idea, if you do something about it I’d love to see it, or if you don’t mind I could run wild and draw this out or something.
And yes, Puppet would be smart enough to know something’s up, dare I say Foxy too
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pastryfication · 1 month
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an oscar x deaf reader, maybe she’s friends w someone working in mclaren and visits. the reader almost gets into an accident and oscar saves her, mad that she wasn’t paying attention and yells at her only to realize she’s deaf. he apologizes and he starts talking to her after that day.
close save | oscar piastri
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pairing: oscar piastri x deaf reader note: i know close to nothing about lip reading and deafness, all info used in this is something i’ve googled, so feel free to correct me if something is wrong!! also, i’ve tried something new with writing it mostly from oscar’s perspective, so let me know if you like it xx
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the midday sun beats down on the mclaren garage, casting long shadows over the bustling crew. it’s been a long morning of prep work, but oscar doesn’t mind—he thrives in the intensity, in the noise, in the hum of engines that fill his ears.
as he turns to grab a drink of water, something catches his eye. a young woman is standing just outside the garage, looking around with a distracted expression. you’re not wearing any of the usual gear or badges that indicate you’re part of the team, but there’s something familiar about you. oscar narrows his eyes, trying to place your face, when he notices something alarming—a forklift is backing up, and you’re right in its path.
without thinking, oscar drops the bottle and sprints toward you. his heart pounds as he closes the distance, yelling for you to move, but you don’t react. panic grips him as he reaches out, grabbing your arm and yanking you out of the way just in time. the forklift lumbers past, the driver oblivious to the close call.
oscar’s chest heaves as he turns to face you, adrenaline coursing through his veins. “what the hell were you thinking? you could’ve been—” he stops mid-sentence, noticing your startled expression. your eyes are widened, but not in fear of the near-miss. it’s something else.
you blink at him, your mouth moving soundlessly, and suddenly oscar realizes what’s wrong. you can’t hear him. the realization hits him like a punch to the gut, and the anger he felt a moment ago is instantly replaced by guilt. his face softens, and he steps back, his hand dropping from your arm.
“i’m- i’m sorry,” he stammers, his voice suddenly quiet, as if lowering it might somehow make up for his outburst. “i didn’t know . . .”
you tilt your head slightly, as if trying to read his lips, and oscar feels a wave of helplessness wash over him. he raises his hands, fumbling awkwardly as he tries to communicate. he doesn’t know any sign language—he’s never needed to—but he gestures toward the forklift, then back at you, hoping you understand that he was just worried.
to his relief, you nod, giving him a small, understanding smile. you point to your ear, then shake your head, confirming what he’s already guessed. you’re deaf.
oscar takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. he feels terrible, not just for yelling at you, but for assuming you were ignoring him when you couldn’t even hear him in the first place. “i’m sorry,” he repeats, mouthing the words more deliberately this time. he hopes you can read his lips.
you nod again, your expression kind, and motion that it’s okay. oscar feels a strange warmth in his chest at your forgiveness. he still feels like an idiot, but at least you don’t seem to hold it against him.
at that moment, lando appears from the other side of the garage, waving enthusiastically as he approaches. “hey, mate! you met jon’s sister yet?” he calls out, clearly unaware of what just happened. he jogs over, grinning broadly. “oscar, this is-”
“jon’s sister?” oscar repeats, cutting him off. the pieces fall into place—jon, lando’s personal trainer, had mentioned his sister visiting today. he hadn’t put two and two together until now. “right. i didn’t realize . . .”
lando’s grin falters as he notices the awkward tension. “oh. uh, yeah . . . she’s deaf, by the way. did i forget to mention that?”
oscar shoots him a look, but lando just shrugs, mouthing an exaggerated “sorry!” before turning back to you. “i see you’ve met oscar, then,” he says, switching to a more careful, lip-readable pace. he introduces you properly, and oscar watches as you sign something back to lando.
lando nods and translates, “she says thank you for saving her back there.”
oscar feels his face heat up a little, embarrassed but also strangely proud. “no problem,” he says, and then, after a pause, he adds, “i should’ve been more careful. i’m sorry if i scared you.”
lando relays the message, and you just smile, giving oscar a thumbs up.
over the next few hours, oscar finds himself glancing over at you more than once. he feels a strange pull, unable to tear his eyes away as you move through the garage, interacting with your brother and some of the crew, completely at ease despite the noise and chaos around you.
at one point, you catch him looking and wave. oscar waves back, feeling a bit foolish. when the day winds down and most of the team starts packing up, oscar spots you sitting on one of the low walls outside the garage, watching the track.
he hesitates for a moment, then walks over and sits down next to you, keeping a respectful distance. you look over and give him a welcoming smile, and for the first time, oscar doesn’t feel nervous. he doesn’t know how to sign, but he doesn’t need to. you sit there together, quietly watching as the sun dips lower in the sky, painting the track in shades of gold.
finally, oscar turns to you. his phone is open in his notes app, and in there he’s written: would you like to get a coffee sometime? maybe you could teach me some sign language.
you raise an eyebrow, then nod, your smile widening as you sign something to him. oscar doesn’t understand it yet, but he knows one thing: he’s definitely looking forward to learning.
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dancing-crystals · 4 months
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The innkeeper and his wife, the coachman, they were expecting a middle-aged businessman, too arrogant to listen, too cynical to even believe the warnings are well-meant, too confident in his own science and religion to listen to anyone else. Someone with enough worldly experience that he might recognize Dracula as a threat even if he doesn't understand the nature of the threat. Someone important and well-connected enough that he's too risky to kill, old and dull enough not to be interesting enough to toy with.
It was a comfort, to know there was no way to save him. Another comfort, that he would be useful and boring enough to be spared, and canny enough to spot the danger.
Then Jonathon Harker shows up, young and earnest and innocent. He praises the food and asks for recipes for his young bride-to-be back home, and they can see in his face how in love he is. They see too his enthusiasm, his fascination. He blushes when he looks at the women and averts his eyes, he consults his phrase book so he can better give compliments.
He's young enough to be their son. Maybe the innkeeper has a child close to Jonathon's age--a son just starting his own life, a daughter a little younger peeking through the door and sighing at the handsome traveler. Or maybe their child would have been Jonathon's age, if only--but no, they must not think that.
But they do think it, and so the innkeeper's wife begs him to take the rosary "for your mother's sake" and it's not really Jonathon she's talking to. The innkeeper whispers to his friends and customers and old gossips, and they pass it to the passengers on the coach. The coachman is taken back too, the money the Count sent weighing heavily in his pocket. To refuse to drive him means death, to warn him is pointless.
Everyone on the couch is older than Jonathon, old enough to know what the devil in the castle does to the young and earnest and innocent. They all carry their own protections, and one by one they offer them to this poor fool who doesn't understand and wouldn't believe, but he's too polite to refuse and kind enough to see their concern and be touched by it.
The coachman drives his horses like he is fleeing from the devil instead of to him, and they all hope, pray, it will be enough.
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n0thingbutlov3 · 3 months
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need you now
in which a impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)
“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”
His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.
You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.
You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.
“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.
“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.
You swallowed it down.
“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.
You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.
“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.
You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.
It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.
When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.
It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.
You think this qualified.
You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.
You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.
You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.
You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.
You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.
“Spencer?” You slurred.
He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.
You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.
You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.
“I’m fine.”
Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.
“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.
You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.
“How did you get in?”
“My key.”
“Oh.”
Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.
“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.
“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.
You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.
You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.
“Angel, what’s wrong?”
You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.
“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.
Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.
His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.
“Do you want to talk?”
Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?
“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.
“Okay.”
Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.
“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.
You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.
He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.
“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—
“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.
and—actually, you were fine now.
He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.
He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.
“Whole thing, please.”
You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.
“Happy?”
“Very.”
You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.
The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.
You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.
“Why did we break up?”
He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.
“I—you know why—“
“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.
Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.
“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?
“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”
Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.
“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“
“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.
“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.
“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.
“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”
Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.
“Of course I want to.”
“Okay,”
“Okay.”
He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.
Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.
As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.
You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.
“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”
He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.
“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.
“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”
You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.
“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.
Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.
“Unless you want to, I mean—“
“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.
He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.
You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.
You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.
“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.
“Nothing. You’re pretty.”
“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“Why?”
“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”
Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.
“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”
You nodded.
“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”
You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.
“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”
You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.
part two!
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zaldritzosrose · 3 months
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Lessons Well Learned (Jace x Twin!Reader x Aegon)
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Summary: Jace was a good husband, a loving husband. He adored you from inside and out. But he knew you all to well. He knew you wanted more than sweet and gentle. And who better to ask than a man known for his carnal nature?
(Sort of follow on to Lessons In Pleasure, the 'lessons' reference that fic but this can also be a standalone read.)
TW: Minors DNI, She/Her pronouns, afab reader, Jace being the softest of husbands, Aegon being Aegon, fingering, oral (fem receiving), multiple orgasms, threesome, p in v sex, Aegon now showing Jace how to fuck, canon-typical incest, twin/targcest, they are happy families in this.
Reader is Jace's twin therefore shares features but is not explicitly described.
Words: 4926
THANK YOU again to @legitalicat for not only trusting me with this idea, hope it lives up to expectation!
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The news of the betrothal to your twin brother was a welcome one. Your mother, Rhaenyra, was now Queen on the passing of your grandsire, Viserys. With Jace being the eldest child, he was made heir to the throne after your mother. The Great Houses were already in talks with your mother about marriage alliances and the like, those being saved for your younger siblings, your aunt and your uncles.
You and Jace, however, were meant for each other. It had been planned that way for the longest time. Your mother and father, Harwin, were smart enough to see that neither of you would accept a marriage to another. It had taken minor convincing on from Rhaenyra to Harwin to accept such an uncommon pairing, but even he could see past the blood relation to the bond the two of you shared.
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The wedding happened just after the two of your turned eighteen, and it had been a few months since your first night together as man and wife. Before you had wed, neither you nor Jace had any experience in the ways of pleasure. Agreeing to save such things for the other, and for your wedding night.
When that night came, there was nerves – as expected – but you both simply let the feelings take over. Not forcing anything more than you were comfortable with and it worked.
For a time.
You had been married to Jace for months now. You were happy, comfortable. You assumed Jace felt the same.
In public, he was as protective and affectionate as he had always been. A hand on the small of your back. Or a hand on your thigh during dinner. When you were alone, he was attentive, loving. Did a little part of you want for more? Maybe. You would sit at tea with other ladies, listening to stories of how their husbands tended to their needs. Or how the men in the books they read would worship their women, bringing them to pleasures you could scarcely imagine. But you said nothing.
You did not want to make Jace feel inadequate, or that he was disappointing you. But he noticed. He always noticed. The way you would seem lost in your thoughts when you lay together, the small and passing look of disappointment when he was as soft and gentle as he always was.
At first, he was lost on what to do. He first went to the library, searching for the novels he knew existed. Maybe you had read them, like your friends at tea did? Maybe that was what had changed your feelings?
Reading them gave him ideas, but how would he know if that was what you wanted? He was afraid of embarrassing you, and himself, by asking. With his literary knowledge in mind, he went to the one person he hoped would help.
Aegon. His uncle was known, once, for his licentious ways. Now a married man himself, it was no secret that he and his wife had a more than satisfying carnal relationship. Who else could help Jace now?
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The knock to Aegon’s door was not something he expected. The person on the other side was someone he expected even less.
“Nephew? To what do I owe this pleasure?” Aegon asked, returning to his chair and picking his wine back up.
Jace followed him inside and Aegon quickly noticed the nervous energy that seemed to roll off the younger prince.
“I need your…help.” Jace forced the words out. Mentally preparing himself for the mocking that would likely follow.
Aegon gestured for him to sit, curiosity turning to confusion. People did not often come to him for help. His relationship with Jace was better than it had been but having him need his assistance was still surprising.
“Help? With what exactly?”
Jace glanced at the wine on the table, pouring himself a glass and hoping it would calm his nerves. The tart liquid was never something he enjoyed, but the soft buzz it gave his mind was welcome. Aegon watched him intently, knowing whatever he was here for was causing him serious internal conflict.
“Whatever it is…”
But Jace was quick to interrupt.
“I will say this quickly and I ask you save your mocking until I am done, please.” Jace’s words were hurried, the nervous taking over again but Aegon nodded and waited.
“Now, I am not saying I do not know how to…satisfy my wife. But…”
Aegon stifled a chuckle, sipping his wine and letting Jace continue.
“But I fear she wants for something…different…to what I usually give.”
Jace averted his gaze as he finished speaking, not being able to bear the amused look Aegon was likely giving him. Aegon, while amused, could feel just how serious this was. It would have taken a lot for Jace to come to him, and despite the urge to mock him endlessly, Aegon felt the need to help.
“Has she told you? Voiced such things?” the elder asked and Jace simply shook his head.
“I just…know. I always know with her.”
It made sense. They were twins, more intrinsically entwined than most couples could be. Only one thought came to Aegon’s mind. The chaotic voice in his head told him to tell the entire truth in what he was about to say, but he imagined Jace would not want to know his father had fucked his aunt.
“And you want to change? What do you believe she wants?” Aegon needed to be sure that whatever he suggested would be something his nephew would accept. It was a line he had never thought to cross.
Jace was silent for a moment. As a lover and husband, he was always soft and gentle. Slow, taking his time to bring you as much pleasure as he could. Never asking the same in return. But maybe that was the problem? Was he too gentle? Too soft? Did you want something more like the depraved lovers from the books in the library?
“That is the problem, I do not know for certain. I just know what I do is not…enough.”
Now that hit a nerve with Aegon. Far too similar to how he felt when his own wife had sought outside help. That she wanted more than what he gave. That she wanted different. And the look on Jace’s face was much how he felt when Harwin had entered his chamber that evening.
“You wonder if she seeks something more…carnal. Or dare I say, depraved?” Aegon asked, watching Jace’s expression for any emotion either way.
The younger prince only nodded. It had been his first thought. That you wanted him to be rougher, not less loving, but just a little…more.
Aegon hummed in response. His suggestion could still go either way.
“I can sit here all day and describe all the ways to pleasure a woman, nephew, but I would wager it would not be enough.”
Jace finally met his gaze, and he saw far less mocking than he expected. If anything, Aegon seemed sincere.
“I will help, but I need you to be…open minded. I was once in the same situation as you, though it was a little more of a surprise to me. And I had help the way I will help you.”
As much as he wanted to, Aegon could not bring himself to reveal that Harwin had been the one to help. He had a distinct feeling that Jace knowing his father had bedded his aunt and now Aegon was repeating those lessons with him, would not go down well.
Jace frowned. Was Aegon suggesting what he thought he was? And it seemed his expression was enough to have Aegon explaining further.
“If you agree, I can…show you. As I was shown. But I would not do so without your permission.”
Jace nodded. So, it was exactly as he assumed. Part of him held a curiosity for where Aegon’s lessons had come from, but that could be something handled later. The question was, did he want it? Bringing Aegon into his marriage verbally was one thing. But physically? That was something else.
But despite his reservations, Jace knew he had little other option.
“I fear it is my only option, I have exhausted all others. How exactly will we do this?”
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Aegon had run the situation past his wife first, knowing she would have something to say on the matter. And he had not expected just how enthusiastically she gave her permission. He had thought to question it, but there were some things he simply did not need to know.
Between them, uncle and nephew decided when Aegon would come to Jace’s marital chambers. The whole situation would remain a surprise to you, until a knock came too late in the evening for visitors.
But what surprised you more was the speed at which your husband went to the door. Ignoring your questions as he tugged the door open and hurriedly spoke to the person on the other side. You could have sworn you were hearing Aegon’s voice, but why was your uncle here so late in the evening?
Your question was answered when Jace returned, Aegon in tow. You looked between the two men with a raised brow.
“Am I missing something?”
Aegon only smirked as Jace went to your side quickly, whispering an explanation as your uncle turned to help himself to the nearby wine.
“And you suggested this, uncle?” you asked, bringing Aegon’s attention back to you.
He only nodded, swallowing his wine and smiling. You turned back to Jace. He did not seem upset, which gave you less to worry about. If anything, he seemed the most comfortable he had been for a while.
You were quiet for a moment. Part of you wondered what Jace had said to Aegon to make him both suggest and agree to it. Another part of you did not need to know. You had heard from your aunt about the change in Aegon, though she had not given more details when you pressed for them. And you were curious to see what the lessons here would be.
You looked back to Jace, finding him doing nothing but staring at you. Waiting.
“You went to him for this?”
You needed to hear it from him. To know what you suspected to be true.
“I did. I knew you wanted something more from me, and I feared you would not tell me if I asked.” Jace replied softly, those brown eyes you loved verging on pup like sadness.
“You always know, my love, I both hate and love that about you.” You smiled, a hand resting on his jaw as you pressed your lips to his.
You almost forgot Aegon was even in the room. Looking past your husband to see him now lounging on your plush couch, wine in hand as he smiled at you both. It should annoy you, how smug he looked. Like he knew something you did not.
“So, what exactly is the plan here?” you asked, to both of them really.
The men looked between each other. Clearly, this had been discussed sometime before Aegon came here tonight. That gave you comfort, in a strange way.
“Aegon will join us, help me be a different kind of lover. Not as…gentle or soft.” Jace explained and Aegon nodded in agreement.
Aegon had something of his own to add, however. He had considered a few things before he arrived. Jace had agreed to his involvement, but what if you did not?
“I will do nothing you do not want, sweet niece. I will not touch you unless you give me permission to now.”
That was surprising. Though you had heard many stories about how, despite his depravities, Aegon was a man of consent. It was now all resting on what you said next. A final look at Jace helped you decide.
“You have permission to do as you please, uncle.”
Now that was near akin to poking a bear. The look on Aegon’s face should have filled you with dread. But it did the opposite.
“I will instruct your husband first, show it myself if I must. Either way, this night will be nothing short of ultimate pleasure for us all.” Aegon said, his voice rougher and lower than you had ever heard it.
Aegon came to stand at Jace’s shoulder, where your husband remained knelt at your side as you sat on the bed. Having both men staring at you so intently had your skin heating and your cheeks blushed pink.
“Begin as you normally would,” Aegon instructed and Jace almost pounced on you.
The anticipation had almost been too much for him and his kiss was hungrier than you had ever experienced from him before. Pushing you back onto the bed and planting himself atop you. Your head caged between his forearms as he pushed his tongue into your waiting mouth.
It was like having an audience was already spurring him on. Making him want to work harder to impress Aegon before they had even begun. Your hands already tangled in his brown curls as one of his hands trailed its way to your waist. You could not help but roll your hips up into him, needing him to kiss you harder and touch you more.
Aegon could see your need and he knew that having Jace give in too soon would end this sooner than he would like.
“Take your time, nephew, make her desperate for your touch, for your kiss.” Aegon called over, eyes roaming over the two of you as Jace began to trail his kiss away from your lips.
Your gentle moans had Aegon leaning in, wine still in hand as he watched the way your hands seemed to restlessly grip whichever part of Jace you could find. Soon, the younger prince had your nightgown bunched up your thighs, not quite revealing your bare flesh.
“Please…Jace, please…” you pleaded, trying to push Jace’s head lower but he would not budge.
You sat up on your elbows, eyes wide as he turned to look at Aegon. Your gaze followed his and you realised he would only act on Aegon’s instruction. Which gave you an idea. If there was one thing few knew of Jace, it was his jealousy. Especially when it came to you. If Aegon was here to teach and if Jace was to hurry up and touch you, you knew you had to act.
“Will you not join us yet, uncle?”
Your hands carded through Jace’s hair, keeping his where he was as he littered kisses across your hips and stomach. You could feel him tense a little under your hand and you tried again to Aegon to do something, say something.
But Aegon remained where he was, though you could easily see the growing bulge under the fabric of his breeches. His hand now rested just to the side, close enough for him to begin to palm over it.
“In good time, niece.”
But he did lean in, eyes trained solely on the expanse of bare skin that Jace was revealing as he moved down your body. Your attention was soon returned to Jace as he lowered himself down and kissed down your thighs. Your lower half now bared entirely. You canted your hips up towards his face, but Jace did not give in. He remained teasing, kissing his way back up your body as he removed your nightgown entirely. Your body soon dropping back flat to the bed, eyes closed in pleasure.
His lips soon met yours again and you made quick work of his shirt before your hands dropped to the laces of his breeches, trying to remove them but soon being stopped by Jace’s hands over yours.
You could hear the soft footsteps of Aegon as he approached the bed, expecting him to move Jace away and begin the next instruction. When he did not, you leaned back up on your elbows to see what was happening. Aegon was clad now in only his trousers and nothing more. Having kicked off his boots and discarded his shirt between the couch and the bed. You chose not to question it, watching as your uncle settled himself next to Jace on the bed.
“Now, the best way to teach is to show…”
Aegon could have done as Harwin had done for him. He could have had Jace sit aside and shown him what to do from start to end. But that brought him little joy in thinking of it. The idea of showing Jace in real time, guiding him to pleasure you, had a burning heat settling in his stomach.
Jace did not expect Aegon’s hand to wrap around his wrist, but he did not push him away. Aegon was the teacher now, Jace a mere student and he would follow the lessons intently. Jace let his uncle guide his hand, not stopping Aegon when he laced their fingers together and trailed their joined hands over your body. Only stopping when they reached your breasts, Aegon urging Jace to begin to massage and squeeze your soft flesh.
You could not help the moans that left you. With Aegon’s help, Jace’s touch was more forceful than it usually was. Not painful, but the strength behind it was a welcome change.
The joined hands moved down your body, the combined heat making your arch towards them. It excited more than you expected, and you were already wondering where the night would go next.
A soft gasp left you when the familiar feel of Jace’s palm cupped your mound, the slight roughness making your roll your hips again. Jace glanced at Aegon, the elder waiting for approval before he did what he had planned.
“Watch what I do, then copy when it is your turn.”
Aegon gently dipped a single digit passed your folds and you could barely contain the moan, the roll of your eyes at the feeling. His fingers were a little thicker than Jace’s, rougher too. He had not removed his rings either, the cool metal sending a shiver down your spine.
“Relax, I will go slow, then your husband will take over.”
You nodded, a faint whimper leaving you as Aegon pushed deeper. His finger soon hitting the sweet spot deep inside and curling over it again and again. Jace watched intently. He had used his fingers on your before, but what intrigued him was just how Aegon moved. His palm flat against your pearl, adding friction as his finger moved in and out.
Aegon kept his eyes on you, watching for signs any signs of discomfort. When he saw only pleasure, he slowly slid another finger inside, smirking as your back arched and you sighed out a moan. Your slick already coated his fingers and part of him knew he should pull back and let Jace bring you to your peak, but the selfish side wanted to feel it for himself. His own wife had told him to, in her words, ‘do whatever it took to please’ and he was prepared to do just that.
He sped up his rhythm, your moans rising in volume to match the speed of his fingers and Jace could only watch in awe as you came, and came hard, around Aegon’s fingers. But when he did not stop, your hand reached out and grasped Aegon’s wrist to slow him down.
You were panting, unable to form words but Aegon did as you bid as slowed until he stopped.
“Your wife is quite lucky, uncle…” you breathed out, a small smile on your lips as Aegon chuckled.
“Your turn, nephew,” Aegon offered, turning to Jace and guiding his hand to the position he had just been in himself.
Aegon kept hold of his wrist until he was happy with how Jace’s hand was settled against you. The elder knew he would need verbal instruction and the words once said to him were all he could think to say.
“My best advice will always be, to listen. If she moans and pulls you close, keep going.”
Jace nodded, holding your gaze as he began to move his fingers in and out of you. Already sensitive from your previous peak, you were quickly panting Jace’s name as he brought you back up towards the edge of pleasure.
“Oh…Jace…keep going please…”
Your back was arching already and Jace made sure to remember Aegon’s words as he listened to your words and kept his pace, leaning forward to press his lips against yours. You welcomed his kiss, tangling your hands back into his hair and letting him swallow your moans.
Aegon could barely contain his own arousal, watching the way your skin flushed pink, how Jace’s arm flexed as he thrust his fingers harder and harder. His own hand not shy as he palmed himself over the fabric of his clothes, matching Jace’s rhythm just enough to have his cock twitching but not to make himself come. He was a man of varied tastes, even married, but even he did not expect to quite enjoy himself much.
“Have you licked her before, nephew? Let yourself taste her?”
Jace did not need to look at Aegon to know he was aroused, the rough tone of his voice enough to betray him. Jace nodded, keeping the rhythm of his hand as steady as he could.
“Good, add your tongue while your fingers stay inside.”
When Jace hesitated, Aegon moved to sit beside his nephew again. Urging Jace to tilt his palm away from your skin but to keep his fingers buried inside.
“Keep your fingers moving and watch.”
Aegon leaned down, his thumb spreading your folds slightly and exposing the swollen flesh of your pearl to his waiting tongue. He was gentle, soft licks of the tip of his tongue in the same rhythm as Jace’s fingers. Your moans increased in volume again, torn between incoherence and chants of Jace’s name.
But your hand soon laced in Aegon’s hair, keeping him close as he groaned at the feel of your fingers against his scalp. Jace could feel your walls clench around his fingers, and he wanted nothing more than to taste you himself. Aegon had you peaking again and as he pulled away, he put a hand to Jace’s neck and pushed him down to continue where he had left off.
The overstimulation was bordering on too much. But the second Jace’s tongue swiped over your pearl, you had your thighs spread to welcome him.
“Such beautiful sounds you make, niece. Do you not agree, nephew?”
Aegon chuckled as both of you moaned in response to his praise. The entire scene was the most depravity he had experienced for a while on balance, and he was not about to let it end.
Your hands were tight in Jace’s hair as you peaked again, your thighs closing around your husband’s head. Aegon was quick to hold them open, letting Jace lap up everything you gave him without interruption.
“Please…please…” Your voice was soft as you tried to push Jace away, the sensations too much now.
Aegon’s hands massaged your thighs as Jace sat up, both men looking at you with an intensity that had your stomach tightening with desire.
“Now a question for you, sweet one, have you ever ridden your husband?”
It was Jace’s turn to blush now. It was something that had been talked about between you, different positions that supposedly added to pleasure. But nothing had ever come of it.
“No, we have talked but…” Your breath was still too heavy to speak, four peaks and counting almost exhausting you.
Before tonight, Jace would be able to at best pull two peaks from your body. This was more pleasure than you had ever felt.
Aegon let out a disapproving hum. His lips curled into a smirk.
“Hmm, that will not do. There is nothing more satisfying than having your woman ride you like her dragon…”
With shaky limbs, you pushed yourself to sitting, watching as Jace laid back and made quick work of the rest of his clothing. It did not surprise you that Aegon did the same. Nothing was going to surprise you anymore, you wagered.
Aegon helped you straddle Jace, his grip on your hips gentle as he settled himself directly behind you. Your back against his soft chest and his hands resting on your hips.
“Take your time…” Aegon cooed, taking a little control as one hand reached around your front.
Jace sat up sharply as he felt Aegon’s hand grip his cock, the feeling exciting him a little more than he anticipated combined with the heat of your core hovering over him. Aegon was gentle, lining the younger prince’s cock up with your entrance. His other hand began to urge you to sink down, his grip a little tighter as you slowly took Jace down to his base.
Your head fell back on Aegon’s shoulder without thinking, Aegon’s other hand soon releasing Jace’s cock and returning to your hips. He gave you time to adjust, letting your body rest back against him.
“Put your hands over mine,” Aegon ordered softly, and Jace complied quickly.
Aegon moved you gently into a steady rhythm, knowing the angle would be a lot to take for the first time. He helped you roll your hips slowly, keeping you steady against his chest.
He could not resist pressing kisses to your shoulder, his own cock strained against your back.
Jace groaned at each roll of your hips, his cock already twitching in both anticipation and the sweet friction of your flesh against his. But he wanted more, he needed more. Slow and gentle was not what he had planned for tonight.
His eyes met Aegon’s, and the two men came to a silent agreement. The time for slow and gentle was done.
“Seems your husband wants something more, my darling, if you are willing?” Aegon whispered against your neck, and you could only moan in response.
Aegon began to roll your hips faster, almost bouncing you up and down on Jace’s cock. He continued to grip on to you, his lips a little more forceful on your neck and shoulders as you began to move of your own accord. Aegon made to pull away, but you surprised him by holding on to his arm and keeping him close.
Jace’s grip tightened as his release tightened in his stomach, his body tense as he helped your hips move up and down.
“I told you it felt good, did I not?” Aegon chuckled, his hands moving from your hips to your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh in his hands and revelling in the moan of his name that you finally released.
You subconsciously angled your hips, your body working on instinct to add the much-needed friction to your pearl as you let the pleasure take over you. Your hips soon losing rhythm as your release quickly found you. Your moans interspersed with chants of both men’s names as your slick coated Jace’s cock and the coarse hairs at his base.
“Gods…yes…” you sighed out as Jace began to slam his hips up into you.
Aegon added quickly to the stimulation with his fingers circling your swollen nub as you hurried towards another peak. You had lost count by now, the combination of overstimulation and the need for more pleasure had your mind a haze of incoherent thought. You felt Aegon’s other hand leave you and before disappointment could find you, you felt the movement of what you could only assume was him tugging furiously at his own cock.
Your hands rested on Jace’s chest, your husband slamming his hips as best he could up into your waiting core, chasing his pleasure with grunts and moans that you could not ever remember hearing from him before.
Jace came with a strained moan, holding your body down tight against his as you felt the warmth of his seed coat your walls. Soon, more warmth found your back and rear as Aegon quickly followed suit.
The three of you were silent as you let the highs wash over you. Yet none of you felt awkward or uncomfortable. The sheer exhaustion the only thing any of you felt.
Jace was the first to speak.
“Thank you, Aegon…” he whispered, and the elder only hummed in response.
Jace tugged you down to rest against his chest, letting his softening cock slip from your folds and rest between you.
Aegon slipped from the bed, grabbing two damp cloths, one for you and Jace and one for himself. He stood by the bed, cleaning his cock as Jace set about cleaning himself and you up.
Your head remained nestled against Jace’s chest; your breath finally slowed enough to speak. The two men locked eyes, a mutual sense of gratitude and understanding settling between them.
The elder smirked, tossing his cloth to the side.
“Should you need more lessons, nephew, you know where to find me. And I am sure I could even convince my wife to join us…” His tone seemed to be in jest, but the both of you knew he was serious.
And you both had to admit, the offer was not as off putting as it probably should have been. Aegon dressed himself and made for the door, looking back and bidding the pair of you goodnight. Maybe one day he would tell Jace where his lessons had come from.
But now was not the time.
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Tags: (all the Jace, Aegon and combination girlies I can remember!)
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slttygeto · 1 year
Text
SAVE MY LOVE FOR YOU | MANJIRO SANO.
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જ⁀➴ synposis: neither you nor mikey seem to have pulled out cupid's arrow despite being separated in this timeline. lucky for you two, you have the perfect group of friends for you to reunite in every life.
જ⁀➴ content warning: manga spoilers! (the ending), racer! mikey, best friend! kazutora, fem! reader, tooth rotting fluff, mikey is very confident and famous, making out on the first date, se.x in the changing room, se.x on the couch, protective sex (wrap it before you tap it), overstimulation, cunnilingus, mikey makes you cum three times, he's a sweetheart.
જ⁀➴ word count: 10k
જ⁀➴ note: thank you to @mztoman for commissioning me again (so loyal!) i had so much fun writing this, even though it took me a while. and thank YOU guys for 8k followers! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it hehe.
ʚ⁺˖↪ comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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One of Takemichi’s biggest achievements in life is giving his friends the life he promised them when he first discovered what being a time leaper was. It wasn’t easy, he fought like hell but it was worth it at the end. All of his friends are alive, his girlfriend is soon going to become his wife and was preparing for their wedding—it couldn’t get more perfect than this. The man sat next to this big window of a very quiet and fancy place, so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice that his friend was walking back towards their table.
Manjiro watched as the black haired male fidgeted nervously in his seat. It was his idea to take him out, help him loosen up a little since Takemichi has been so caught up in wedding stress. He deserved a day like this. Especially with how far he’s come and the sacrifices he made for them to be here in the first place.
“If you fidget again, you might break the chair,” Manjiro teases him as he takes a seat across from him. He watches as the male flinches before resting his forehead on the table. Takemichi heaves out a long sigh.
“This is way too fancy, Mikey…”
“Well, what did you think? That I’d be allowed to go a coffee shop down the street where anyone can recognize me?” Manjiro flashes his friend a grin, a little proud that his career mad him get this far. And Takemichi sighs in defeat, accepting the fact that their little hangouts were going to be like this from now on.
“Plus, you need this more than I do. Wedding preparations are wearing you out. Maybe attending Emma’s wedding first will help putting you in a good mood before the big day comes up.” It was true, but there was something else to be discussed and Takemichi wasn’t sure of how to bring it up.
Was this even the right moment for it? He didn’t even know if it was appropriate to discuss this so casually. But he needed to get it off his chest. It was one of the first things he noticed when the last time leap happened—how it felt off. He wasn’t even sure at first, he thought he was just imagining things, that the time leaps took a toll on him. But one look at Chifuyu confirmed that he wasn’t tripping. Someone was missing in the picture.
“Hey, do you remember ever having a girlfriend in the past?” Takemichi tries to be casual about this, tries not to make it seem like it was a life or death situation but his facial expression fails him. It was so serious that it makes Mikey pause eating his food.
“Huh?”
“A girlfriend, or perhaps a girl? Do you remember being involved with a girl romantically?” At first, Takemichi was hesitating on telling his friend about this. After all, there’s no nice way to ask this question without making it seem like you are calling your friend a total loser. But he remember his conversation with Chifuyu, and he knows that if there is anyone to trust when it comes to information about the past, it’s either him or Naoto.
“I remember her, we didn’t talk that much but she was definitely there,” Chifuyu says, still holding the cold beer in his hand. Takemichi had invited him to his apartment while Hinata was out shopping, because he couldn’t just discuss this kind of stuff over the phone.
“Through it all, right?”
“Mhm, you remember her too Michi, you’re just hesitant.” Chifuyu was right. Takemichi knew what he saw in all of the timelines, he is sure that there was someone and Mikey always looked so protective of you, never let anyone near you. He’s never seen his friend like that, and so for him to be separated from her in this final timeline just didn’t make sense. He needed to do something about it.
“Michi, are you trying to tell me something?” It seemed like Mikey refused to take the situation seriously, and no one could blame him. What was supposed to be a fun hang out with his best friend was turning into a serious conversation and faster than he had anticipated.
“You were in love, Mikey.” This sentence makes his face fall. Takemichi sighs before leaning back in his seat, stirring the drink placed in front of him.
“Each time I went back in time and tried to fix things, it led me to a different timeline—a different outcome. In all of them, you were involved with this girl—you were different,” Takemichi pauses as he looks up at his friend. “No matter how bad things turned out to be, she was always there and seemed to be the only person to pull you out of this dark cloud. Last time, way before that big fight happened—“ He almost cringes when he remembers how bad it was. “You two weren’t together anymore. And I’m not sure why or how, but that seemed to worsen things for you. And if I’m not mistaken, she did end up dying at one point.”
Manjiro was trying his best to process what was being said to him. He was quiet, attentive and did not know what to say. He wasn’t opposed to the idea that younger him had found love, he was more upset that he must’ve fucked up some way for this mysterious girl to leave him and not want to be involved with him anymore. But he had no memory of her. No name, no address—how old was she? Were they both the same age? Was she older? What was she like? She must’ve been super patient with him because his teenage self was a menace, whiny and way too needy.
“Do you remember what she was like?” Mikey breaks the silence, his eyes going from his drink to his friend’s face who hums, trying his best to remember some of the features.
“I’m not sure, all I remember is that she was very loyal to you. She had a bonten tattoo on the back of her neck to match yours.” Takemichi remembers vividly the Bonten timeline, where he had tried to visit Mikey at that one abandoned building. He remembers watching her as she stood near the leader with careful eyes, a warm touch that contrasted her partner’s cold demeanor. She seemed to give Mikey what he lacked—warmth, love and a home.
“Where was she during the last fight?”
“I have no idea, but she didn’t want to be around you,” Takemichi cringes at the confession.
It’s true, she and Manjiro were like strangers in this timeline, but it wasn’t guaranteed that they wouldn’t meet again. After all, this mysterious girl was also friends with the rest of Toman. Takemichi wasn’t sure who exactly was her closest friend in the gang, and it made the chances of meeting her very slim.
“How do you know so much, though?” Mikey starts, taking a bite from his pastry. “You can remember that I was a piece of shit to her, but not her face?” It was a natural question, and no offense was taken by Takemichi who shrugged his shoulders.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I got some answers from Chifuyu and Naoto. We know this girl, but we tried to look at every picture with Toman and she was just never there. Almost like a ghost.”
“And you’re sure she isn’t dead in this present time?” This was Takemichi’s least favorite theory. Something must’ve happened in the past, she was nowhere to be found and the guy didn’t have time to ask everyone if they remember a certain girl being involved with the gang. All he could hope for was that she was alive and that nothing bad happened to her. Unlike that one timeline where she does end up getting killed, Takemichi hoped that she somehow survived and made it in the present time.
“I hope that she isn’t.” Takemichi confesses, almost gloomily. “But one thing is for sure—if she was close to somebody in Toman, there’s a chance she might attend either mine or your sister’s wedding. Let’s not lose hope.”
--
You are invited to the wedding of an old friend. You remember Emma as being the light of any room she walks into, and seeing her get married to the one person she’s always had a crush on makes you grin from ear to ear as you hold the wedding invitation in your hands. You are not particularly close to the couple, but you remember bumping into them a couple of times and every time you would pray that nothing bad happens and separates them because their happiness is truly contagious.
The wedding takes place in about two days, and you learn that you are not the only one invited when you hear your doorbell ring.
“You’re invited to Emma and Draken’s wedding, right?” Kazutora stands at your door and you snort at how excited he is. You’ve been friends with him for almost a decade now, you’ve seen each other at your lowest and you couldn’t deny that your friendship with the man was one of a kind. He pestered you like you were a little sister, and no matter how annoying he was to you, he happened to be one of the few people who were truly there for you when you needed them.
“Mhm, she even called me and told me she really wants to see me.” You smile when you remember the phone call. She was sweet enough to ask for your number when you bumped into her three months ago, and now that you look back at it—it was definitely to invite you to her wedding. You let Kazutora walk inside your place and the man makes himself comfortable on your couch.
“Good. You do need to get out of the house, it’s starting to become annoying,” he says with a light tone, and he sees you roll your eyes before you take a seat next to him.
“Sure, I do need to socialize a little.”
“Not a little, a lot.”
“Shut up, I get it.” You smack Kazutora’s arm and he laughs before grabbing the remote control. He chooses a random show on Netflix before grabbing his phone to order takeout. You can’t even argue with him or tell him you had some left-over food from yesterday because he wouldn’t listen to you anyway.
Kazutora was right. You rarely ever went out unless you were obligated or the man dragged you to an event. It felt as though you dreaded the thought of going out and having to meet people. But attending Emma’s wedding didn’t sound like a bad idea. As long as the people there were as sweet as her.
Which made you realize another thing.
“It’s crazy how we both knew Emma, but we didn’t become friends through her.” You say outloud and your friend hums. You two became friends because you happened to be hanging out near a cat café. You both happened to be rescuing the same kitten, and decided that it was the start of your very long friendship.
“True, which also means that you’ve never met one of my closest friends and Emma’s brother.” You tilt your head in confusion.
“Who?”
“Mikey.” You’ve never heard of that name in your life. Then again, you’ve never been to Emma’s house or were that close to her in the first place. All you knew was that she had a massive crush on this Draken dude who you saw recently and that was that. Anything about her family was simply none of your business.
“Yeah, I don’t know him.” You simply shrug.
“He’s a pretty famous racer actually,” oh? That was a first. “But he likes to keep his personal life mostly private. Last time, he came to my place wearing a black hoodie and black sweatpants—I thought I was getting robbed.”
You snort at the thought of your friend being absolutely terrified from his own close friend. But this made you a little curious about this Mikey. If he was as famous as Kazutora claims, why have you never seen him on TV before?
“You’re such a scaredy cat. “ You tease your friend, nudging him with your elbow.
“Yeah, yeah. Says the same person who cried when she found me on her couch after opening the door for me at night.”
“I forgot!”
“Say that to the person who will murder you in your sleep.”
--
Emma’s wedding was as intimate as it could be. You weren’t complaining, you hated big weddings where people didn’t even know each other. And right off the bat, you could tell that the people invited to the couple’s wedding were loved ones and have seen them grow up together.
You don’t feel out of place, but you are still a little closed off as Kazutora marches towards his group of friends. You refused to go with him mainly because it would be so awkward and you wanted to give your friend some space to hang out with his own group of friends. And so you stand next to the drinks, pour yourself some water and hold onto your cup while looking around the place.
It was small, but not too small. You take notice of the flowers hanging by the ceiling and the cake sitting in the corner. There’s soft music playing in the background and despite the number of people present, it is not loud enough to annoy you. Perhaps if you were to get married one day, you wanted a ceremony just like this.
You’re brought out of your thoughts when you feel Kazutora’s hand around your wrist and you send him a look that he knows a little too well.
Don’t you dare-
“Come! They wanna meet you.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, and you hear his friends laugh at the contrast in your expressions. While Kazutora is so excited to introduce you to his friends, you look as though you don’t even want to be here.
“There she is! Give her some time and she will warm up to you guys,” you give a tight lipped smile and you can feel your cheeks warming up at the attention. You aren’t exactly awkward with people, but being introduced like this wasn’t a situation you would ever put yourself into.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Mitsuya.” A man with lavender hair extends his hand out and the smile on his face helps you relax a little. You shake hands with him and introduce yourself back, and suddenly everyone was telling you who they were.
Beside Baji (whom you’ve already seen in pictures before), everyone else is a new face. There was a set of twins, Souya and Nahoya. Pah-chin and Peh-yan, and then there was Hakkai and Chifuyu. They were all nice and welcoming, didn’t make you feel awkward at all. But you notice how Chifuyu’s stare lingers on you for a bit longer than the rest, and you don’t shy away from asking him if there was something he needed.
“Is there anything you need or?”
“Oh no,” Chifuyu starts and shakes his head. His cheeks are flushed that you caught him staring at you so intensely, but he continues nonetheless. “You just look familiar, that’s all.”
Familiar? It wasn’t exactly impossible, but you were still sure that you’ve never met Chifuyu before.
“Maybe we met outside or something, or maybe Kazutora showed you a pic?” You ask the male, and he quickly darts his eyes towards Kazutora.
 “Actually, yeah. I think that’s where I saw you.” He lets go of the conversation pretty quickly after this, leaving you standing confused next to your friend. You don’t really question it, perhaps he did believe you and it was all in his head. But it was still a weird interaction altogether.
You are quickly introduced to a new person, and your interaction with him isn’t any less weird than the previous one. Takemichi stares at you with wide eyes and parted lips, and you see Chifuyu pinch his side which makes you furrow your eyebrows. What the fuck was going on here?
“Are you okay—“
“You just look very familiar.” Again? You almost roll your eyes in annoyance. If they were playing games with you, this surely wasn’t a fun one. But you decide to give a proper answer to this observation and shake your head.
“It’s probably all in your head, I’m sorry. I have never seen you in my life.”
Despite how warm and gentle you look, you are strong minded and don’t shy away from situations like these. Takemichi finds himself smiling at the thought.
I can see why her and Mikey are perfect for each other.
Takemichi, just like Chifuyu, lets go of the conversation very easily and you find yourself even more annoyed than before. If one more person tells you that you look familiar, you might just tell them to fuck off. But you’re distracted by Kazutora dragging you to take a seat, indicating that the ceremony was about to start.
You watch as the best men step out and stand next to the groom who looks as though he is about to burst into tears at any moment. It is a sweet thing to witness in real time, the same man you remember meeting three months ago holding a bag of groceries while Emma was holding nothing but her purse. He was truly head over heels, and to be able to witness him devote himself and promise to love and cherish her, to be there for her and hold her when things get tough felt like witnessing a love story straight from the books.
The after-party starts shortly after, and you take notice of how the quiet and intimate vibes remain present throughout the whole night. You are sat at a table all alone, Kazutora had only left your side a few moments prior to grab food for you both and so you decide to just scroll on your phone for a bit. But you are quickly robbed of your alone time when your friend comes back and it seems as though he’s dragging someone with him.
“(Name), this is Mikey. Mikey, this is (name). He’s the friend that I told you about yesterday.” Mikey is anything but how you imagined him to be. Cocky, arrogant, maybe a little self-centered since that’s how everyone who rose to fame behaved even around their friends. But he is… closed off. He can hold eye contact, but you take notice of the small blush painting the apples of his cheeks at having to be introduced like this.
You two seemed to have that in common.
You give a small smile in response and extend your hand, Mikey sees it and mirrors your actions. You don’t think much of it, it’s a hand shake after all—but the moment the palm of your head meets his, you feel electricity shock through your body and you both pull away with a slight hiss.
“Shit-“
“Ouch.”
You’re both holding your hands back, but then you look at him and he feels different. For some odd reason, this young man you had just been introduced to looks at you as though he’s been looking for you for a long time. Your heart skips a beat. His eyes are intense, and he doesn’t seem to pull his eyes away from you until you dart them back towards Kazutora with red cheeks.
Your friend watches the scene unfold before him with raised eyebrows and a small smile. He had hopes that two of his closest friends would get along, and it seemed to be going just fine.
“Wow, am I interrupting something?” The playful tone to his voice seems to make the heat travel all over your body, and both you and Mikey smack him at his comment.
“Don’t be such a dickhead.” You look adorable when you try to be threatening, Mikey thinks. But he also thinks that it must be you.
The girl Takemichi told him about a few days earlier, it has to be you. He doesn’t know how or why, but the hand shake made him feel different about you. It was cheesy to be thinking this way, Mikey would’ve probably teased anyone else if they had told him this. But you were staring at him with pretty eyes and pink cheeks, even your stare was a shy one up until you looked at Kazutora.
You bicker with Kazutora for a few more moments until Mikey sees him lift up his hands in defeat, a triumphant smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at this.
“Fine, I’ll leave you two alone if that’s what you really want.” This little-
“That’s not what I said!” Your face is as red as a tomato, watching Kazutora walk away to chit-chat with some of his friends. Mikey finds himself snickering a little at this.
“Laughing at my misery?” You tell the man with a small grumble and he shrugs his shoulders before pulling out a chair.
“It was entertaining—can I?” You nod in response and Mikey takes a seat next to you. Your body immediately relaxes around him, and given that you were the only two people sitting at this table, you don’t find yourself feeling awkward as you strike a conversation with the man.
“So, you like bikes?” The question is genuine, but the way you phrase it has Mikey throwing his head back with a small laugh.
“I do, how were you able to tell?” He props his elbow on the table before resting his chin on his hand. He is grinning, and the way he’s staring at you makes your stomach flutter.
“A little birdie told me you’re a pretty famous racer,” You grin in return and mirror his actions, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. Mikey takes notice of what you are trying to do and lets out another laugh.
“I am, and yes I do love bikes.”
“I know, Mikey.” You chuckle at his sincerity and you see him shrug his shoulders.
“Hey, I’m an honest man. I wanted to make sure you knew I wasn’t lying.”
“Honestly, you look like a terrible liar.” You giggle a little when he lets out a gasp, feigning being offended.
“I am an amazing liar!”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah! For example, me being an amazing liar is a lie in itself,” Mikey finds himself grinning from ear to ear when his little joke makes you laugh really hard. He truly hopes that you were her, otherwise he would be pretty bummed.
“Alright comedian, I’m getting a little hungry. Wanna grab some food?” Manjiro doesn’t say no, and so you stand up and head towards the display of various types of snacks and food to fill your plate.
The night seemed to be going pretty well.
--
You spend the rest of the night talking to Mikey as though you’ve known each other for years. He lets you talk with Emma and Draken to congratulate them, and you don’t notice the smile that’s on her face when she sees you walk away with her brother. In fact, you fail to notice the various pairs of eyes lingering on you both as you sit down at the very corner, seemingly thinking that you are away from prying eyes, but you were obviously wrong. You and Manjiro looked like you were on a date.
The after-party does eventually come to an end. Kazutora tells you to get ready and you put on the coat you brought with you in case it got cold at night (which it did). Mikey walks you out of the venue, but before you can follow Kazutora to his car, he stops you with a hand around your wrist.
“Hey wait,”
“Yeah?” A part of you was hoping that the conversation was going that way, you had a lot of fun with Mikey during the few hours you hung out with him and you were hoping that he would do something about it.
“I had a lot of fun, and it wasn’t even my own wedding,” he starts with a chuckle. “And I was wondering if we could hang out again.” Oh, he was bold. You liked that.
You smile at this, and you remove your wrist from his grasp before wrapping it around his hand, grabbing it firmly.
“I would love to, Mikey.” You exchange phone numbers and you walk towards Kazutora’s car. You wave at Mikey, you see him mouth ‘I’ll text you later’ and it makes you blush. You get inside the car, and Kazutora immediately starts the car.
He notices how quiet you are, but you don’t look upset. You’re busy staring at your phone, almost like you were waiting for a text and then your phone pings. Your eyes light up when you see the notification, and you quickly type something on your phone.
Mikey<3
--Kazutora’s a pretty reckless driver. Think you gonna get there safely?
You stifle a giggle before sending a reply.
--He’s a pretty good driver actually, have some faith in him.
Kazutora doesn’t take a look at your phone, but from the way you are beaming at your phone, he knows who you were talking to.
“You two are getting along pretty well,” you don’t raise your head to look at him, only nod in response.
“Mhm, he’s really cute,” you say quietly and your friend smiles to himself. He hasn’t seen you this excited about someone in quite some time, and for it to be his close friend out of everyone warms up his heart.
You couldn’t wait to see Mikey again.
--
Mikey has a very busy schedule, you learn that from the past three weeks of texting him. You tried to make plans four times, and they were all dismissed by his team because he had something to do. You weren’t even upset about it, you had been having video and phone calls with him the entire time, but he still apologizes during every call and promises to make it up to you somehow.
Which brings you to where you are right now—standing near your apartment building waiting for him to pick you up. You two had agreed to go back to his place to hang out, since his race was coming up soon, the paparazzi were on his ass and he didn’t want that to ruin his fun time with you.
You see a black, fancy car pull up next to you and your eyes are wide as you stare at it. Mikey rolls down the window and flashes you a toothy grin, before yelling out.
“You’re gonna keep standing there?” You are quick to get inside the car, and you take notice of how clean it is.
“I didn’t think you were gonna pick me up in such a fancy car,” you admit, and Manjiro chuckles at your honesty.
“Were you expecting a bike?”
“Yeah.” You smile when you see him laugh a little harder. “What?”
“You’re cute, that’s all,” you blush at his remark and cough a little, suddenly finding the ceiling of his car very interesting.
“Getting shy?”
“Focus on driving,” you say playfully and he gets stubborn, refusing to listen to you.
“Ooh, did my talk of Kazutora being a reckless driver get to your head?” He rests his head on the steering wheel, and you almost panic when you see that he’s not paying attention.
“Mikey—really, focus!”
You arrive to his place in less than twenty minutes, and you hope your face does not betray you and show him how absolutely mesmerized you are by the size of the building. You have to hurt your neck in order to see the top, and he tells you that he lives on the 20th floor, since he loves watching the city from above. You walk inside, get in the elevator and Manjiro notices the way you’re holding your purse tightly.
His hand reaches out towards you and wraps around your wrist, you look at him in surprise but immediately relax when you see the smile on his face.
“Relax, yeah?” His voice is barely above a whisper. Butterflies dance in your stomach at the way he’s addressing you—so full of love and care. You look away from him when you feel your face getting hot.
Luckily, Manjiro doesn’t notice as the elevator finally comes to a halt, indicating that you finally arrived at the 20th floor. The doors open and you are greeted with a long, illuminated hallway with grey carpets on the floor and big windows on the side. Mikey is the first one to step out and you follow suit, watching as he starts to look for his keys in his pockets.
You arrive at a door with big, bold numbers on it and you wait behind Mikey as he unlocks it before stepping inside.
“Come in, make yourself comfortable.”
Mikey’s place is as fancy as the building, but there’s a hint of domesticity to it and it warms up your heart. There are framed pictures everywhere, trophies sitting above the bookshelf and plants in each corner of the humongous living room. The kitchen is attached to the living space, and you’re surprised when you see that the oven was turned on.
“Were you cooking?”
“Yeah, I’m actually lucky cause if we had been late, our dinner could’ve been burned.” He’s grinning from ear to ear, while you stare at him mortified. He could’ve started a fire and he’s laughing about it?
“You know that’s super dangerous, Mikey.”
“I was just excited to come pick you up,” he pouts at you, and you already have this show memorized. Every time he would do something reckless and he tells you over a video call, he would pout when you scold him in hopes of getting out of it.
“Please,” you roll your eyes, bending down to take off your shoes before putting on the slippers he had laid out for you. While dinner was still cooking, Mikey decides to give you a little tour of his apartment.
You learn that there is he makes good use of the space he has, and he tells you it’s all thanks to his sister Emma for giving him ideas. He has an office where he takes calls, a bedroom that looks rather neat compared to when you saw it over the video call a few days ago and a very pretty bathroom that is black themed. You think it’s the prettiest part of his house.
“Out of everything, you pick the bathroom?” He is amused, watching as you grab the bottles of shampoo and conditioner with a loud gasp, the fascination in your eyes warms up his chest. He truly feels like pulling you in his arms.
“Those are so cool! Have you ever broken one of these?” Manjiro raises an eyebrow at this.
“Why?”
“I just wanna know if you’re clumsy,” you give him an innocent grin, and he pouts his lips at your comment.
“I am not clumsy.”
“Hm, then I guess Kazutora lied to me.” This makes his ears perk up.
“Kazutora told you about me?” You chuckle at his eagerness but nod anyway.
“He told me you were reckless and a bit childish,” you tilt your head to the side. “Stubborn, indecisive, impulsive, idiotic-“
“Did he say anything that’s actually good,” you can sense the annoyance in his voice and chuckle before reaching out to hold one of his hands.
“He told me you were loyal, very kind and loving. You care a lot about your family and friends, and you never let fame get to your head,” your voice is soft as you tell him all the things Kazutora told you, and the longer you hold his hand, the louder your heartbeat is in your ears.
It feels strange, almost familiar to be this close with him even through just hand holding. And when you look up from where you were holding his hand, your breath hitches at the way he is staring at you. Intense, passionate—you can’t exactly decide how Mikey’s eyes feel, but you do know that they make you nervous. You bite your bottom lips out of nervousness, but you don’t let go of his hand. Instead, your thumb caresses the back of his hand and traces soft circles there.
“And what do you think?” Mikey finally breaks the silence, eyes darting all over your face before settling on your lips.
“I think,” you tighten your hold around his hand, before pulling him towards you in one sudden movement. “I think you should kiss me.”
Manjiro didn’t need to be told twice. His hands gripped your hips as he pinned you against his sink, lips pressed against yours in what started out as a soft, innocent kiss. But the longer your lips moved against one another, the harder it was to keep it tame. You only pull away when you’re out of breath and panting, hands gripping the fabric of shirt to pull him impossibly closer to you. He rests his forehead against yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lips before pulling you into another kiss. You gasp when you feel his lips kiss down, nipping at your jaw.
“Mikey—the food.” You pant out.
“Oh shit-“ There goes your dinner.
--
Whatever Mikey cooked that night wasn’t going to be served. You laugh a little at how pouty and sad he is at the incident, but you reassure him that you appreciate his effort until the very end, and even if it was ruined.
You end up ordering food for the night, and you find out that Mikey gets really excited when the food has little decorations on top. He orders a hamburger and you decide to go for a pizza, and the sheer amount of happiness on his face when he finds a little flag on top of the bun makes you coo at him.
There is a show playing while you eat, but neither of you focus on what was happening as you devour your food and talk about everything and nothing. You learn many things about Mikey, and so does he. And it seems as though the kiss you shared back in the bathroom is long forgotten, almost as though it never happened. But you do notice that Mikey is holding back on the stuff he is telling you.
“Is there anything you want to tell me?” You’re not necessarily being confrontational, but you see him shift a little. So you noticed.
He doesn’t say anything as he removes the fry from his mouth and grabs some water, and your heart sinks a little. When did it get so serious?
“Mikey?”
“Can I be honest about something?” Oh no. Whenever a conversation started like this, you knew it wasn’t going to end well.
“Sure.” He was gonna tell you that he didn’t enjoy the kiss—or worse, did your breath smell? You already felt repulsed by yourself and he hadn’t even said a single thing. You were getting ready for rejection, for the night to end terribly and for him to send you back home and never talk to you again. You knew it was too good to be true.
“This might sound a little crazy, but we were lovers in the past.” Huh? You didn’t know what to say—this sounded ridiculous, but maybe he meant when you were kids? On the playground?
“You mean as kids or?”
“No, I mean in a different timeline, we are—well, were lovers.” The use of the past tense when referring to his relationship with you has a bitter aftertaste to it. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing right now, you might not even be her. But he remembers his conversation with Takemichi after Emma’s wedding, how his friend confirmed to him that yes, it was you.
“Mikey, go for it.” Takemichi was grinning from ear to ear. It seemed as though you were actually alive and he did manage to save everyone this time. Even you.
“Are you sure-“
“Yes,” Chifuyu interrupts with his hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. “I’m certain that it’s her.”
This was the confirmation Mikey needed, but he was still scared. What if you reject him in this timeline? What if you both don’t fall in love and things don’t work out? This probably scared him more than having to tell you about the whole time leap thing.
“What do you mean?” You don’t tell him that he sounds ridiculous, nor do you laugh at the fact that he just told you that you were both lovers at one point.
“Takemichi, and my brother—but it doesn’t matter,” Mikey shakes his head. “Takemichi was able to go back in time at one point in his life. He’s what people might call a time leaper. He went through hell and beyond to be able to save his girlfriend from dying, but then eventually he got involved with me and that’s how we became friends.” You see him pause to smile to himself, and you think to yourself that there is no way someone can make up a story this detailed without stuttering or missing a beat.
“Every time he tried to fix something in the past, it would lead to a horrible outcome in the future. And he remembers that—well, we were together,” he frowns before continuing. “No matter the horrible outcome, we were never separated until well, now.”
What Mikey is saying right now should make you look at him like he’s crazy, what he’s implying and the events he’s describing sound straight out of a book. And yet you still believe every word he says. You aren’t sure what part of his speech convinced you that this was real, you just believe him.
“It makes sense. The handshake made me feel some kind of way, I thought I was crazy for looking too deeply into it—but then I felt you and I don’t know, I think even hanging out as friends would do us great, yeah?” You were going on such a ramble, that you fail to notice that Mikey is a little taken aback by your understanding of the whole situation. He’s relieved that you don’t think he is crazy, but when he feels the blush crawl up his neck, he looks away from you with a loud huff.
“What is wrong with you?” You blink at him.
“Hm?”
“You’re being awfully understanding, I wasn’t expecting it.” You find yourself cooing at him, and your hand reaches towards his face to pinch his cheek playfully.
“Oh Mikey, are you shy?” You regret your words as soon as they come out. You feel his hand grab your wrist before pulling you on top of him on the couch, making you straddle him. He smirks at your wide eyed look and his hands grip your hips just like how he did in the bathroom.
“Cat got your tongue?” Yes, it totally did. This side of Mikey was so unexpected but you weren’t complaining. But you did feel as though he was reminding you that no matter how flustered he could get, he always had more effect on you than you could ever imagine.
--
You get over the situation on the couch rather quickly, and an hour later you decide that it’s finally time to head back home. Mikey is whiny about it, but he decides to drive you back to your place and completely forgets why he was upset in the first place. His behavior resembled one of a very needy puppy.
He parks next to your apartment building, and he immediately starts sighing out dramatically.
“Mikey-“
“I cannot believe I have just been reunited with my past lover, and yet she still asks to go back to her place and urgently!” He yells out the last part, the back of his hand pressed against his forehead. “I am heartbroken.”
“I promise to text you, yeah?” You lean towards him and press a kiss to his cheek, to which he grins at.
“And you have to go on a date with me again very soon.”
“Okay, deal.” You quickly agree, and the smile beaming on his face makes you think that if he was always going to be this happy, then you would go on plenty of dates with him.
“Goodnight Mikey,”
“Manjiro.” Your hand rests at the door, and you turn around to face him.
“Yeah?”
“Call me Manjiro, I like it better.”
You smile at this and nod his way. “Goodnight Manjiro.” It sounds so sweet when it comes out of your mouth, and when you lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek, he grabs your face and pulls you into a deep kiss.
He is such a passionate kisser, a little aggressive since he keeps nipping and biting at your bottom lip and gripping the back of your head—but you don’t mind. You are dizzy when he pulls away, and he finally unlocks the door for you with a grin on his face.
“Goodnight, (Name).”
--
Over the next month and a half, not once do you question your relationship with Mikey. It’s casual, you tell yourself. It has to be. Sure, you have shared a few passionate, and very intimate kisses but it was all casual and friendly. At least that’s what you tell yourself.
Mikey refuses to discuss whatever is going on between you two either, chooses to brush it to the side because as much as his brain was telling him this was going well, his heart was screaming at him not to get attached. Which was too late.
The conversations you both had, the kisses you shared—hell, you even understood the whole time leap thing and told him that when he first shook hands with you, he felt familiar. But what if Mikey fucks up again? What if he messes up like he did in the previous times, so badly to the point where even Takemichi couldn’t fix it? The thoughts in his head were getting louder and more suffocating by the minute, and he was afraid that he would do it again—push you away, or worse; lose you.
You notice that his text messages become shorter and less excited than when you both started talking, it confuses you at first—you brush off the idea of him losing interest in you because there was no way. You both got along so well, did he really get cold feet so suddenly?
It was even more frustrating to try to get him to talk about it—every time you would try to bring it up, he would shut down your attempt and give a lame excuse such as “oh, I’m just tired” or “I didn’t get enough sleep”. You were starting to get a little fed up.
You text Kazutora to come over, and you’re not even surprised when you hear a knock at your door not even twenty minutes later. He was always quick with these.
“What do you want this time, more money? My soul?” Kazutora says as he walks in, but the humorous mood he was trying to set immediately fades when he notices your distressed state.
“Wow, are you okay?” His eyebrows are pinched in concern and you shake your head.
“No, no—I think Mikey doesn’t like me.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” This wasn’t what Kazutora heard from Mikey himself, and he realizes almost immediately that things weren’t being communicated properly between you two.
“He’s been acting distant and cold—and I think I fucked up, maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him the first time we hung out-“
“You kissed him the first time you hung out?” Your friend was impressed, but he winces when you smack his shoulder. “Shit sorry—hey listen, I’m very sure he likes you.”
“How can you be so sure? I really don’t know what he’s thinking and it’s killing me.” You are frustrated, and it’s very understandable. But Kazutora has to explain to you how Mikey was as a person.
“It’s Mikey, he’s incredibly scared of his feelings.” He sits you down on your couch and you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. “It’s always been like this. His feelings are intense, and he is scared that it might push people away which is why he’s had the same group of friends for years--so my theory is, he really likes you. But he is scared that you do not feel the same, or worse and impossible; don’t feel the same way.”
You aren’t surprised that your friend knows this much about Mikey, but you still find it endearing that he was willing to explain to you in detail how his friend dealt with his feelings. You find yourself nodding at his words before resting your head on the couch.
“How do I make him less scared though?”
“What do you mean?”
“I obviously like him back,” you stare at your friend. “It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. But how do I tell him? How do I let him know that I want him? I can’t have him question that, I need him to be convinced that I feel the same for him, that it doesn’t scare me.”
Kazutora smiles a little at your eagerness. You and Mikey were truly the perfect match. Confident, unwavering and strong with a pinch of gentleness and care for your loved ones. He pats your head affectionately.
“Don’t worry, I got the perfect plan.”
--
You should’ve known his plan would include some of Mikey’s closest friends. You are a blushing mess as you stand in the middle of Mitsuya’s office in an awkward position. The lavender head is staring you down so intensely, you can’t even hold eye contact with him.
“Yeah, lucky her I have one ready.” Have what? You look at Kazutora who only grins at you before shrugging his shoulders.
Mitsuya then comes out and is holding what appears to be a black outfit. He hands it to you and sits back down on his chair before nodding at you to open it. You do as you are told and unfold the piece of clothing in your hands—a dress? There was pretty writing in gold, it said TOMAN on the back and Mikey written in gold right above the heart area.
“Is this…?”
“Mhm, Mikey’s old uniform when we were back in Toman.” Mitsuya says before fixing his glasses. “I tried to experiment with it a couple of times, and this is the last thing I was able to make. It should fit you as an oversized shirt.”
You hold the piece of clothing in your hand and nod at him, before darting your eyes towards your friend.
“What do I do with this?”
“His race is tomorrow. You already have a VIP pass to the front row, right?” You nod in response. “Cool, wear that and stand there. I’m very sure he will be very excited.”
It sounded like a reckless plan—crazy, even. But you were down for it as long as Manjiro knew that you felt the same, and that you were willing to try again with him in this timeline. You were ready to be lovers, it’s what fate decided for you both. And although it doesn’t always work out, during the two months of having known Mikey, you’ve come to accept the fact that you were his and he was yours.
No matter the circumstances, you always found your way back in each other’s lives.
--
Mikey loved his job more than anything in the world. He loved the adrenaline that comes with it, the confidence boost that he gets from hearing people—fans, and mostly his friends and family cheer for him, was immeasurable. He was the center of attention, and such a competitive person that all eyes fell on him the moment he gets on his bike. Like a kid being handed candy, Mikey finds pure joy in holding trophies at the end of every race, and some might think he is cocky for saying this—but he knew that today’s victory was going to be his.
He is getting ready to get on his bike, a heavy helmet in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. He knows his manager is saying something, but he can’t really get himself to care enough to listen, mind thinking of far more important things.
He wonders how you are doing, after all it’s been a while since he last saw you and it makes him internally cringe. Avoidance was one of his worst traits, coming second to pushing people away from him. He doesn’t know what he should do about the whole situation, he is far too deep in it to be able to get out without you getting mad at him or worse—choosing not to be with him. But Manjiro is ready for whatever is thrown his way, he will fight back and try to win you ever. Even if his own fears can easily get the best of him at the worst of times.
The race starts, and Manjiro doesn’t stare at the crowd cheering for him. He knows it’s the usual—His siblings, grandpa and all of his friends cheering the name “Mikey!” over and over again. It wasn’t until the race ends and Mikey wins the first place that he decides to take off his helmet and flash the crowd his usual, toothy grin. It’s contagious, and he notices how his friends keep pointing down for him to notice something in the crowd—or rather, someone.
There you were, standing so close to him yet so far away—how did he not notice you from the very beginning? You looked adorable, and you were wearing something that looked way too familiar. The closer he got to you, the sooner he was able to confirm that it was his old Toman uniform. And you were wearing it as an oversized shirt, with what he hoped were shorts underneath.
He doesn’t miss the way his siblings and friends were snickering to themselves at his speechless state, but he chooses that he will throw a tantrum over that later. He has more important things to focus on—such as asking you what you were doing here, how did you get that? Does it mean that you weren’t mad at him?
Mikey knew he should be careful with the paparazzi, after all they were the type to make a huge deal out of anything—but he has never had any dating rumor. In fact, he would always shut down the idea and say that dating wasn’t for him. But now that you were standing in the crowd, looking especially adorable in his old uniform, he couldn’t really decide whether to protect you from the nasty fans or to hold you in his arms and show the public that his heart belonged to one person only.
He decides to be careful for the sake of your safety—flashes you a confident smile that has your face changing into a bright red color before giving him a curt nod which he returns. You could hear Kazutora and Baji fake gagging in the back at the sight of you two communicating silently, but you didn’t care anymore. Not when Mikey’s eyes spoke louder than any cheering you heard today.
You are patiently waiting for him next to his changing room, it’s where Emma told you to go. You appreciated that neither she, Izana nor Shinichiro teased you about being romantically involved with their brother. Though you did notice the smile that painted the older brother’s face at your nervousness, so he decides to speak up.
“I’m glad you found each other again.” So that’s what Mikey meant when he said that his brother was a time leaper too. Shinichiro knew about you two, but he trusted Takemichi to do the job of telling Manjiro about you.
You fiddle with your thumbs, leaning against the wall. You don’t have time to get lost in your thoughts before you see Mikey storming down the hallway and towards you, ridding himself of his jacket and all the equipment that was strapped onto him as a form of protection.
“Sir—“ His manager tries to get his attention, but Mikey raises a single hand to dismiss his efforts.
“Whatever it is, cancel it or tell them to wait. I have far more important things to do.” You flush at his words, and you’re about to say something yourself when Manjiro grabs your hand and opens the door to his changing room. He turns out and looks at his manager once again.
“No one’s allowed near my room for a while, okay?” His manager raises a questioning eyebrow.
“But sir, why-“
“It doesn’t take a genius to know why.” Mikey almost gives the man a deadpan look, and the manager seems to understand almost immediately and flushes before bowing his head and walking away in a hurry.
You are amused at how eager Mikey is about the whole situation, but you can’t deny that you feel nervous about being alone with him in his changing room. It’s fancy and private, exactly what you imagine Mikey to have since it’s not any different from his house.
Once the door is closed and locked, Mikey turns around to face you and he lets out a fascinated “wow”, eyes darting over the newest version of his old uniform.
“You like it?” Your voice is shy, and you feel small under his gaze as he takes a step closer to you. His hand reaches to grab the hem of your shirt and you see how his thumb grazes over the fabric. His eyes travel all the way up to your face before letting out a hum.
“Ask me again if I like it,” Manjiro’s voice is barely above a whisper, you feel his other hand grab your jaw.
“Do you like it?” You can’t finish the sentence properly before he’s yanking you towards him by your shirt, the hand that was holding the hem of your shirt resting on the small of your back. His nose brushes against yours, and his eyes dart over your face in search for any sign of hesitance or wanting him to pull away.
Instead, you’re a blushing mess. But there’s a proud grin on your face, and you’re biting your bottom lip in hopes of controlling it—Mikey thinks you look too pretty up close.
“I love it, a lot.” He brushes his lips against yours, pulls back when he feels you trying to kiss him properly and when you whine, he lets out a small chuckle.
“What? You wanna kiss me?” You don’t give him a verbal response, but you catch him off guard and capture his lips in a deep kiss. You can tell he is taken aback, but the hand that was resting on your back rests on your face and you almost feel yourself melting from him holding your face with both hands. The kiss is passionate and deep, and you feel yourself being backed up against the wall. You gasp when you feel him pin you there, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth. His hands move down from your face to grip your hips, and when he pulls away, you’re a panting mess.
He rests his forehead against yours, taking in how your face is flushed and your eyes have a thin layer of lust coating them. He hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before biting the skin there.
“I need to hear it.” And somehow, you don’t even have to ask him to know what he means.
“I’m yours, I wanna be yours.” He bites at your jaw, then asks you to say it again.
“Yours-“
“Fuck yeah, mine.” He gently nips at your neck, and you can’t think properly to tell him not to leave any love bites there. Again, you are reminded by how strong he is when he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist, walking towards the couch. He lays you down there, and when you see him get down on his knees, you start panicking.
“Manjiro, you don’t have to-“ he grabs your hand and places it on his crotch, and your lips part in shock when you feel the bulge in his pants. Already? Just from making out? Your face was burning enough.
“Feel that? Yeah, I have to.” You let him take off your shoes for you, and let out a surprised squeal when he rids you of your shorts and panties in one go. You hear him groan at the sight, shamelessly spreading your legs wider for him before pressing a kiss to the back of your thigh.
“Can smell you from here, sweet thing.” His voice is raspy, and you only nod in response while licking your lips. Your hands grab at the hem of your shirt and you’re ready to pull it over your head before Mikey stops you.
“Keep it. Wanna fuck you in it.” You feel dizzy at his words. You’ve always known that Mikey was confident but this was a whole new person, not that you were complaining.
Manjiro presses a few loving kisses on your inner thighs before getting to your pussy where he stares at it for a few moments. You don’t have to feel self-conscious, he doesn’t let you as he presses his nose against the patch of pubes sitting right above where you wanted him the most. He parts your pussy lips with his fingers, and swipes his tongue over your folds, smiling when you give that adorable gasp over the initial contact. His thumb pulls the hood of your clit, before pressing his tongue against it. And when he sees the way you squirm and try to move away, he knows he’s doing a good job. His tongue assaults your clit over and over again—kissing, sucking and humming against the sensitive bud as his middle and ring finger push past your folds. You are far too gone to react properly to the intrusion, sitting up with a flushed face and uncontrollable moans leaving your lips.
Your stomach twitches and relaxes a couple of times, and Mikey can tell you are trying not to cum fast. So he curls his fingers up, grazing that one spot that has you covering your mouth and throwing your head back. He keeps finger fucking you at the same angle and pace, grinning to himself when your breathing stutters and you cum around his fingers, gushing so sweetly with the prettiest moans leaving your lips.
Mikey is back on his feet almost immediately, the fucked out look on your face making him groan to himself as he pulls his pants down enough to free his cock from its confines. It’s pretty, has a slight curve to it and the tip is flushed red. Your mouth waters at the sight, hands squeezing your boobs while staring up at him, begging him to put it in your mouth.
“Not today, baby,” he reaches for a random drawer next to him and pulls out a condom. You don’t have to question him before he’s wrapping it around his cock. “Today is all about you.”
It was pretty ironic considering the pathetic moan he lots out the moment he pushes himself inside you. Your pussy welcomes him with so much ease, and you wrap your legs around him to pull him impossibly closer to you. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss when he starts to move his hips against yours.
“Oh fuck baby, you feel good.” Manjiro says against your lips and you can only moan in response, the angle at which he is fucking you knocking the wind out of your chest. You are already feeling dizzy enough from the sheer force of his thrusts, but when you pull your legs up on his shoulders, Mikey gives you a look that could only mean trouble.
You gasp in surprise when he lifts up your hips, pushing your upper body deeper into the couch and he starts fucking you hard. His hips are driving into yours so harshly that you feel the couch move with every movement and the sounds—fuck, you just hope that the room is soundproof because the cries you are letting out along with Mikey’s occasional groans of “fuck yeah” “that’s it, take it.” Are straight up pornographic.
Your hands try to cling onto his shoulders, but settle on his muscular arms. You feel the muscle flex under your fingers, and you feel a little embarrassed that feeling his strength was what tipped you over the edge. You cum around him with a loud yelp, body stuttering and shuddering against his. You try to cling onto him for support, throwing your head back when you feel him press his thumb against your clit. You whine in overstimulation.
“I can’t—fuck, I can’t!”
“Oh yes you can, come on baby, make me proud.” Your eyes roll to the back of his head at the overwhelming sensation of his cock bullying its way inside along with his thumb over your clit. You think it’s humanly impossible to cum again in such a short amount of time, but you do it. Mikey pulls it out of you and this time, he collapses on top of you as you both reach your orgasms at the same time.
You think it’s magical, your fingers resting at the back of his head to brush the few hairs there. You feel him pant against your skin and hum, pressing a few kisses there.
“Need to clean you up,” you giggle at how sleepy he sounds but nod anyway.
“Yes, you do.”
“Can I just do it with my mouth?” You gasp in terror, trying to push his heavy body off of you.
“No! I’m too sensitive.” You feel him pout against your skin, but he gets off of you and traces his hands over your lower body.
“I like you like this, you’re so pretty.” Mikey reaches his hand up and pinches one of your nipples, making you gasp and smack his hand.
“Manjiro, keep your hands to yourself.” You see his eye twitch at your comment, and suddenly he flips you on all fours and smacks your ass harshly.
“Face down, I need to taste you again.”
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scoonsalicious · 7 months
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Like A Fairy Tale
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Dating Bucky Barnes had been like living a fairy tale, but as he distances himself from you and your relationship, you come to the realization that maybe fairy tales aren't meant to come true.
Warnings: Language to make Steve blush, mentions of alcohol use, implied sex, angst with a happy ending.
Word Count: 3.4k This is my very first posted fic, and I am very nervous but I hope you like it! If I've missed any warnings, please tell me so I can add them. Much love and thanks to my bestie @jmeelee for indulging my obsession and dropping everything to read this when I sent it to her <3 Please pardon any spelling/grammar errors.
If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3 I write for 18+, so minors DNI. _____________________________________________________________
Once upon a time, being Bucky Barnes’ girl had felt like living in a fairy tale. He was everything your younger self had ever dared to dream of in a Prince Charming– attentive, affectionate, kind, and oh, how he made you laugh! You were the envy of all of your friends, the very definition of #couplegoals, and you thanked your lucky stars every night that the two of you had found one another, despite all the odds.
But fairy tales aren’t real. 
You weren’t sure exactly when it started, but somewhere in the third year of your relationship, after you’d moved into a handsome brownstone in Brooklyn together, after you’d adopted a fluffy white kitten, Bucky started pulling away from you. The steps that took him from you were small at first– he was taking on more and more missions, opting to stay gone for longer periods of time. Days would go by, and they’d turn into weeks, then a month or two at a time would go by where you wouldn’t see him. 
At first, it hadn’t been terrible– Bucky had always made sure to contact you each and every day. A video call whenever he could, a phone call or text when he couldn’t, but slowly, so slowly you barely noticed, the calls stopped coming all together. Sure, he’d answer when you called him… when he could, which wasn’t always possible on a mission, and you hated acting needy and taking him away from his work, so eventually, you stopped reaching out, too. 
When he was home, you were like ships passing in the night. You always offered to take time off of work so you could spend some time with him before he was set to head out again, but he never wanted you to jeopardize your career on his account. Your reunions would always be passionate, but short-lived, a few hot and heavy nights before he took off once more to save the world. 
You tried not to let it bother you. You really, really did. His job was so important. People’s lives relied on him. Where did you get off getting upset over that? So, you kept it to yourself. Until you couldn’t. Not any more.
“Y/N,” your best friend, Lainy, cornered you at her annual New Year’s Eve party, “where’s Barnes? He’s been leaving you to go solo for months now. I don’t think I’ve seen you with him since Mark’s St. Patrick’s Day Party.”
Ouch. “He’s working, Lainy,” you told her, not wanting to admit that March had been the last time the two of you had gone out together, let alone spent more than three days in a row in each other’s company. 
“Yeah, he was ‘working’ over the Memorial Day trip, and the 4th of July BBQ, and Jack and Alice’s wedding, and your aunt’s funeral.” You cringed internally as she applied air quotes to ‘working.’ “And he was ‘working’ on your birthday, and Christmas. Babe, he’s been leaving you alone for almost an entire year. What’s going on? Are you sure there isn’t someone else?”
The worst part was, you knew there wasn’t, or at least, no one individual. When he’d first started distancing himself, of course another woman was the first thing that came to your mind, and you weren’t proud of yourself, but you’d gone through his phone to search for evidence of an affair… multiple times, and repeatedly came up with nothing. And bless Bucky’s heart, but he didn’t have the technological know-how to hide an infidelity from you. Granted, that didn’t negate the possibility that he was randomly hooking up with people while he was away. You’d have to be stupid to not consider the possibility.
You could have asked Steve. You didn’t think Captain America had it in him to lie to you about something like that, but you didn’t want him reporting on your suspicions back to Bucky, nor did you think you could stand to see the look of pity in his eye if he had to tell you that yes, Bucky was cheating on you while you anxiously awaited his return every night. So, you kept the suspicions to yourself. 
Your conversation with Lainy had left you deflated. Here it was New Year’s Eve, and you were alone, the man you loved god knew where– just not with you. How many more holidays and milestones and everyday nights were you going to spend by yourself, waiting for a man who never seemed to want to be home with you anymore? This wasn’t the kind of life you wanted, the kind of life you deserved. 
You made your way to the kitchen to refill your glass of wine. You’d probably already had too many, but you needed to drown the despair that was slowly filling you up. As you poured an exceptionally generous glass, a man entered the kitchen. You recognized him– Harris, a cousin of Lainy’s who had flirted with you relentlessly for years before you had started seeing Bucky. 
“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up upon seeing you, “it’s been awhile.” He enveloped you in a friendly hug. “How’ve you been?”
You smiled and exchanged pleasantries, catching up on the overall brushstrokes of your life. 
“I’m sorry about your breakup,” he offered gently, after you’d exhausted the usual small talk.
“My breakup?” you asked, brow piqued.
“Last few events I’ve seen you at, you’ve been alone. I assumed you and Barnes…” he left the thought floating, the implication hanging in the air: Barnes has left you alone, I assumed you broke up.
You huffed out a laugh. God. Was your relationship actually over and you were the only one dumb enough to not see it? 
“If you aren’t seeing anyone,” Harris continued, “I would really love to take you out. You’ve gotta know I’ve been into you for ages, and I figure if I don’t shoot my shot now, who knows when I’ll have another chance.”
You cocked your head and looked at him, taking in his earnest demeanor. Here was a man who genuinely wanted to spend time with you. Why were you waiting on someone who no longer wanted to be around?
“Um, I might have to get back to you on that, Harris,” you told him before excusing yourself. You needed air. 
You found yourself on Lainy’s balcony, the air deceptively mild for the end of December in Manhattan. Alone with your thoughts, you pulled out your phone and dialed Bucky’s number. It went straight to voicemail.
“Someone asked me out on a date tonight,” you said into the recording, your voice choked with tears you didn’t want to shed. “And I think I might say yes, because, honestly Buck, what are we even doing anymore? You’re never here, and I’m always alone. I tried. I tried so fucking hard to not let it get to me, because your work’s important. I know that. I do, and I’m not begrudging you for your job. But… but I can’t keep on like this. I can’t even remember the last time we spent more than three days together. Isn’t that crazy? Three days. Everyone thinks you’re cheating on me. Did you know that? You’re away so much that everyone I know is convinced you’re fucking someone else. Maybe you are, or maybe you already left me, but I’ve been too stupid to notice; if that’s the case, you could have just told me.” 
You kept your composure as you left the message. You weren’t angry at him; you never could be. You were just tired. So tired, and so lonely. 
“All I know is that it’s another night where I’m all by myself, wishing you were here, wanting to talk to you, to feel you, and you’re just… not. You’re off doing something, or someone, more important than me, and I used to be okay with that, but I can’t be anymore. I deserve more than waiting on you, Buck. I deserve to be someone’s priority. I really wish I could have been yours, the way you were mine. 
“So, let’s just call it, okay? Your heart’s obviously not in it anymore, and mine is too tired of being hurt and alone. We’ll have to figure out what to do about the house. I’m keeping Alpine, though. You haven’t been here for her, either, and it wouldn’t be fair of you to take her if you’re never going to be around.”
Inside, you could hear the rest of the party as they counted down to midnight. When they reached zero, the night erupted in fireworks, and you could hear cheers and cars honking their horns throughout the city below you.
“Huh,” you said into your phone, “it’s midnight. Happy New Year, Buck. I hope it ends up being a good one for you, and I’m sorry for whatever I did that made you decide you didn’t want to spend this last one with me.”
You hung up the phone and the tears finally fell as you slid down the balcony railing until you were crouched on the floor. You weren’t sure how long you sat there crying, but eventually Lainy found you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and ushering you into her spare room. She helped you change out of your cocktail dress and into a spare pair of pajamas, and helped you wash your face before tucking you into bed. She left you with a glass of water and a kiss on the forehead, promising that tomorrow would be better, that the next best chapter of your life was about to begin, but as you drifted into a fitful sleep, you couldn’t find the will to believe her.
You woke the next morning with a throbbing headache, the alcohol and the tears doing nothing but dehydrating you into agony. You grabbed your phone to check the time, but the battery had died in the night. From the slant of the sun coming in from the guest room window, it looked to be late morning or early afternoon. 
You changed back into your dress, thanking Lainy for her help and making a small joke about doing the walk of shame in your clothes from the night before. You avoided her questions about what had happened, promising to go over it at length at the weekend after you’d had some time to process. You weren’t in the best headspace to get into at the moment.
Fortunately, your best friend knew you well enough not to pry, and you said your goodbyes, plans for brunch on Sunday having been made. You weren’t eager to get back home, to be surrounded by reminders of Bucky, when all you wanted was the man, himself. But he was your ex-boyfriend now, you supposed. You were going to have to come to terms with that sooner than later. Besides, Alpine needed to be fed, and you weren’t going to abandon her.
Your keys clicked in the lock as you opened your front door. “Al, baby,” you called, kicking off your heels and closing the door behind you, “Mommy’s home. You hungry, sweetie?”
You began making your way back toward the kitchen when a loud crash from upstairs got your attention. You rolled your eyes; what had the cat knocked over now? 
But then there was the roar of a body barreling down the upstairs hall and toward the stairs, leaving you frozen where you stood. You cast a glance to where you’d left your phone in your purse by the door. Too far away to reach in time to call for help as the intruder came pounding down the stairs. 
A massive figure rounded the corner, nearly knocking you over.
“Bucky?” You blinked, sure your eyes were playing tricks on you, but no– there he stood, and he looked like shit. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and his eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. He’d obviously been wearing the same clothing for at least a day, if not more.
“Y/N,” he breathed, throwing his arms around you and wrapping you in an almost bone-crushing embrace. “Sweetheart, I was so worried.”
“What are you doing here, Buck?” you asked him, pulling away from him. God, you wanted to let him hold you, but you just couldn’t. Not anymore.
Bucky cupped your face in his hands, blue eyes desperately searching yours. “I got your message. Doll, it fucking broke my heart. I came straight home, but you weren’t here, and I was terrified that you were gone; that you’d left me for good.”
You scoffed. “I’m not the one who leaves, Bucky.”
He flinched at your words. “I know, Baby. I know, and ’m so sorry. I had no idea. I shoulda known what leavin’ you so much was doin’ to you, ‘cause it was doin’ it to me, too. When I heard you say that people– that you– thought I was cheating on you, that I had neglected you so much you thought I found someone else, that I could ever love anyone else, ever want anyone else– I’ve never hated myself more, doll. I can’t stand that you even had those thoughts in your head for one second, because it’s always been you. There’s never been anyone else. You’re it.”
“Then why have you been gone?” you asked him in a whisper. “If there’s no one else, and I’m it, why don’t you ever want to be with me? Why do you keep leaving?” 
Bucky ran both his hands along his face. “God, it feels so stupid now,” he said with a sigh. “But I was trying to save–”
“Trying to save the world, yeah, I know,” you interrupted him, annoyed. “Trust me, I’m well aware that I can’t compete with that. But I needed to know you thought we were worth saving, too, and you never did.”
Bucky started laughing then, and you scoffed. “Wow, you don’t have to rub it in, Bucky.”
“No, no– Sweetheart, no!” he shook his head. “That’s not it, at all. Hold on.” He went to the foyer and grabbed his go-bag; you had missed it when you walked in. Coming back to the kitchen, he put it on the table, opening it up and extracting a folded piece of paper and handing it to you.
It was a real estate listing for a farmhouse Upstate, with acreage on the Hudson. You and Bucky had talked about what kind of house you would buy if the situation had ever presented itself, and it was almost as if you’d dreamed it up.
You looked from the paper back to Bucky. “I don’t understand,” you told him.
“It needs pretty extensive renovations,” he told you. “I wanted to take on enough overtime to have the money for them and make a good dent on the mortgage, but it needed more work than I originally thought. And, I have to come clean– I haven’t been one hundred percent honest with you about where I’ve been spending all my time.” He looked up at you through his lashes, head bent down in shame.
“But… but, you said there wasn’t anyone else,” you stammered, heart ready to beat out of your chest. 
“Oh god! No, and I mean that! There isn’t, I swear! God, I’ve fucked this up so bad!” Bucky tugged at his hair in frustration. “I’ve been going on extra missions, but sometimes, Sam, Steve, and I go Upstate to do some work on the house, to cut down the costs so I could still make my timeline.”
“You already bought it?” you asked, your voice flat. You were in shock. “You want to move out? Away from me?”
Bucky moaned in distress and drew you to him again. “No! God, I’m doing this all wrong. I want us to move there, together. To make it the perfect house. The perfect home for me, my wife and our stupid fur baby.”
You stilled at his words. “I’m sorry, your what?”
Bucky smiled at you sheepishly as he reached back into his go-bag. “I’ll have you know that I had an entire plan. Was gonna have the house ready by Valentine’s Day. Take you up there as a surprise, ask you properly, but I fucked that up, so…” He brought his hand back out, holding a small burgundy velvet box. He opened it to reveal a vintage engagement ring, a sapphire instead of a diamond. Your favorite stone.
Bucky got down on one knee. “Y/N,” he began as his voice choked up a bit with emotion, “I know I fucked up for the last eight months. I would completely understand if you can’t forgive me, but I need you to know that I love you. I have only ever loved you, and if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making up for the fact that, even for a moment, I let you think that you weren’t the most important thing in my life, my number one priority. Will you marry me?”
“Buck…” you began, not sure how to phrase what you were about to say. “What about your job? I can’t keep coming in second to the rest of the world, and I get that it’s selfish of me, but–”
“I quit,” he said simply.
“What?” Your eyes were wide with shock at his statement. 
“The second I heard your voicemail, where you said you wanted to call it because I was never there, I told Steve I was done, that I needed to start putting you first. It wasn’t even a question. I’m officially retired.”
Your mouth hung open. You had hoped he would cut down on his missions, but for him to have quit completely… You gently tugged him to his feet, taking the ring box and running a finger across it.
“It’s lovely,” you told him softly. “Absolutely perfect; exactly what I would have picked for myself.” Bucky beamed at you, pleased. “But I can’t accept it.” His face fell as you gently placed the ring back in his hands. 
“Oh,” he whispered, eyes growing glassy. “I… um, I understand. I fucked up, hurt you. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore.”
“I still want to be with you, you idiot,” you admonished him. “But you did hurt me, and we’ve been apart for a long time. We need time to find our way back to each other again, okay? Ask me again on Valentine’s Day, just like you originally planned. Don’t do it now just because you fucked up.” You leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him. “And if it helps make you feel better, I’m probably going to say ‘yes,’ anyway.”
Bucky grinned at you. “Really?” he asked. When you nodded, he picked you up and spun you in  a circle before pressing his lips to yours as if he hadn’t touched you in months. “I promise you, Sweetheart, I’ll do anything I can to make this up to you, I swear it.”
“Anything?” you asked with a smile. “I think I know where you can start.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked you. “And where’s that?”
“Take me to bed, Bucky Barnes,” you said, kissing him again.
Without a word, Bucky swung you over his shoulder and ran with you up the stairs, your squeals and giggles echoing behind him.
Much, much later, when you lay sated together tangled in limbs and sheets with Alpine snuggled next to your heads, Bucky played with your fingers as you rested your head on his bare chest.
“So, Doll,” he said, kissing the pads of each of your fingers, “you gonna tell me who had the nerve to ask my girl out on a date?” 
You laughed. “Lainy’s cousin, Harris. I suppose I’ll have to text him now and tell him I’m not interested.”
“Hell no, you’re not interested,” Bucky chuffed. “Gonna have to remind that punk you’ve already got a boyfriend. The position has been filled.”
“That’s the thing, though,” you said, planting a kiss on his nose. “I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, do I?”
Bucky’s face fell. “But I thought you said–”
“I’ve got myself a fiance.”
Bucky tightened his grip around you, drawing you even closer to his warmth. “Yeah, okay. I gotta admit I like the sound of that a lot better.”
Your entire relationship with Bucky Barnes might not have played out like a fairy tale, but in that moment, you were more sure than ever that you two would get your happily ever after.
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Note
Hey, I've read your last yandere Bruce, neglected fam reader and it gave me an idea. What if instead of the reader wasting all that money or luxury, she saved most of it in a closed account and when Bruce bought the apartment she made him sign it in her name as a plan to when the right time comes or if she needs to, she will sell the apartment and use all the money she saved to leave to start over in another country. Imagine Bruce finding out when she reaches the point where she put her apartment for sale, or better, actually selling it to a friend or someone they know and actually leaving.
Yan!batfam with neglected!sister reader leaving the state/country
Anon your mind is fucking golden! I also thought of the reader having the apartment signed in her name just because Bruce wanted her to feel comfortable but I love the layers this adds.
Hopefully these couple of hcs are good enough while I work on pt 2. Also if anyone else has any questions about any other scenarios or certain characters feel free to send them in I'll try to respond whenever I have time and I write for any gender reader.
Word count ; 1073
Unedited
___
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ bruce is not happy with this turn of events at all. He wasn't expecting nor did he sense that this was going to happen, you didn't post about it or even reference moving on any of your social media apps which he lovingly stalks watches over to make sure you are content with your life and also because he likes seeing you happy and enjoying all the things he got you. And it hurts him a little that you didn't even say something to him … he knows you don't owe him that, not when your relationship is still in a fragile state but he's trying.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ he only figures out after someone in the fam(most likely dick) broke in dropped by your apartment and likely scared one of your friends shitless.. obviously both parties are shocked but your friend more so as they don't know who the hell just broke into their house, dick is shocked when this random person claims that he's trespassing in their home. After that awkward situation dick immediately reports back to Bruce about this over the comms and with some digging from Tim they're able to find out that you had sold the house and the exact date that you had, approximately a month ago. That sends off alarm bells for the entire batfam, where are you now?! It takes an hour or so of searching to find out exactly where you moved and when they do they can't decide what to do with the information.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚Alfred is the voice of reason in this family, he discourages the batboys from immediately doing everything in their power to bring you home, he advocated for you to live wherever you choose and says that it's your life and that the family cannot choose for you. Alfred loves you dearly you are basically his child he views you the way he views Bruce. He may be a yandere but he's a selfless one he truly only has your best interest in mind. His words are like a slap of reality for some of the Batfam mainly Tim, Steph and Jason all three of then become a lot more hesitant to go through with their plans to bring you home on the other hand dick, bruce, and damian are adamant that you aren't safe unless they can be nearby.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Nobody can come to a decision the night they find out and so they decide to sleep on it until they can come to an agreement the manor will be tense for a week or two at most before they spring into action, they will all eventually cave to their selfish needs even if some feel guilty for doing it. Alfred will sigh disappointedly but ultimately allow them to go through with their plans he only hopes you can forgive him for not doing more
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ you on the other hand will be left unaware to all that's going down you'd gotten a new phone and lived in a whole new state maybe even country! They couldn't bother you here. You were happier than you have been for a long time. Even if you missed your old friends you still tried to keep in touch over the phone.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ as for why you did this? It's likely the other batboys' faults, Bruce is annoying but he's not nearly as demanding of your time as the others, namely dick. Dick is insanely clingy once you're on his radar and he becomes aware of how much his neglect affected you mentally. The guilt for him was all consuming when he found out how much he hurt you and that he neglected you for quite literally no reason, you just didn't matter to him at the time. the thought now makes him sick, of course you matter, what the hell was his problem!! Dick would have constantly broke your boundaries by hugging and touching and cuddling you he feels like he needs to make it up to you by being a good big brother, even if that's not what you need anymore after all it's far too late you're already an adult but he refuses to see it that way you're still his baby sister. He inserts himself into your life constantly and even if he'll pay for things he'll only do so under the circumstances that the money be spent ‘together’ like sure he'll take you to that fancy restaurant but it's going to be made into a sister-brother bonding moment, like yeah he'll let you use his card to go shopping but only if he's going with you. Even if you don't use him for money he will still find ways to insert himself into your life. He's overwhelmingly intense and his behavior mixed with the other overbearing members in the batfam plus the added overwhelming feelings of having people who ignored you all your life suddenly want your time and attention is probably why you felt like you had to leave.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ you won't be gone for more than a month or two before your dragged back to Gotham and back to your family, only this time you've got a metaphorical collar around your neck as now you're likely brought back to the manor always under surveillance and on the off chance you're still allowed to own your own apartment again just know it will be heavily bugged along with your phone courtesy of Tim even if he feels bad about invading your privacy he knows they need to see your texts to make sure you're not planning to leave Gotham again. Oh and now the bat members will each take turn patrolling your house and following you from the shadows to make sure you're safe.
___
All in all I'd say you'll have your fun for a little while but ultimately you'll just drive them deeper in their obsession and they will likely kidnap and bring you home.
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cl6teen · 9 months
Text
old habits (die hard) ❀ cl16
in which charles charles has a knack for fucking things up, and you have a talent for slowly letting him back in
find part one here.
contains: social media au, ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader, angsty charles and yn living her best life, toxic relationships maybe, mentions of new partners, charles is a confusing man, charles is a jealous asshole
note: i don’t think this is the final part lmao it’s kinda left of a cliff (if u saw me repost no u didn’t)
your phone 📞
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charlie
hey
i miss you
a lot
read, 11:23 pm.
charlie
please don’t be like that y/n
i’m serious
you
charles you literally have a girlfriend
charlie
she’s not my girlfriend
you
do you think i’m stupid? like actually
charlie
no
but she really isn’t, we’re just talking
and hanging out i guess
you
oh my god
charlie
love, you know i miss you
you
yes, because finding another girl right after saying you only want to focus on racing sends me such a great message
you’re confusing as hell
charlie
i know, i really messed up.
i shouldn’t have broken up with you in the first place
but the season was getting so intense and i really want this championship, i thought it would be better for us to put it on pause to save us both the trouble
you
so what’s so different about her that makes her an exception?
charles
alex is easy for me
you
so i’m difficult?
charles
that’s not what i mean
you
no it is what you mean
i’m difficult for showing up to your races and being there when you need me
or when i’m there for you when you dnf? or when ferrari fucks up your strategy?
i was willing to stay friends with you after i did all that and you still broke up with me because i had hopes we would make it work and get back together
charlie
i do want to get back together
you
no you don’t
you moved on so quickly like i was nothing
charlie
you also got with someone too
you
because i didn’t want to look like an idiot seeing all the news after telling my friends i had hope
charlie
yeah but posting him in your bed??
you
so you’re just saying all of this because of that guy i posted?
wtf is your deal charles
fuck you
❀ instagram ❀
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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, alexalbon, and 70,331others
yourinstagram larger than life (in madrid)
view all comments
lilymhe oh my god
lilymhe you scandalous girl
yourinstagram oops?
landonorris he better watch his hands
yourinstagram he said “fuck off”
landonorris i’ll punch him in his face
carlossainz55 mariposa 🦋
yourinstagram 🥺
user are these two dating???
4zaferrari no they’re just friends, this is someone else
kikagomes sexy sexy pair 💋
yourinstagram you’re sexier bebe
pierregasly get away from my girlfriend
yourinstagram get off my page maybe?
alexalbon show me the man
yourinstagram no you’ll just steal him
user loved watching your vlog the other day
liked by yourinstagram
user seeing yn happy is so great but i can’t be the only one missing her and charles right??
user where are you going next omg!!
yourinstagram no idea!!
lando.jpg updated their story 1 hour ago
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seen by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 1 million others
yourinstagram replied to this story: i did not give permission for you to post this young man!
❀ twitter ❀
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your phone 📞
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charlie
you put him in your vlog? and you’re still posting him?
are you dating
y/n
are we seriously doing this right now
why are you stalking me
charlie
i’m not stalking you, i just care
fuck just answer the question please
y/n
i’m barely posting him, his face wasn’t in it
and no, we’re just seeing each other right now. yk summer flings i guess
charlie
you know it hurts me to see this y/n, please love
y/n
i don’t care, we’re not together anymore
you texting me is hurting everyone, your “friend” included
charlie
she knows we’re not dating
please just come back to monaco y/n
we can talk face to face
can i call you right now?
you
i’m with carlos and lando
charlie
are you also with that guy
you
yeah
charlie
will you finally tell me who he is?
you
does it really matter?
let’s just talk when i’m back in monaco please
and let me enjoy my vacation in peace
charlie
when are you back?
you
i’ll let you know
charlie
okay
i love you
you
yeah
love you too
❀ instagram ❀
yourinstagram updated their story 10 mins ago
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❀ twitter ❀
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tags: @1655clean @i-wish-this-was-me @sunny44 @leclercdream
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bananayuyu · 27 days
Text
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Cabin Fever [part 1]
Pairing: Yunho x f reader
Genre: fluff and smut
Word count: 9.8k
Summary: A trip to the woods with your friends is always the highlight of your year. But sometimes, your body gets in the way of you being able to enjoy anything. Thankfully someone is there to comfort you, in just the way you need.
Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, reader is on her period while said fingering is occurring, reader has really severe period cramps
A/n: My period this last week was the worst one I've had in a while, and I kept thinking the whole time I wished Yunho was there to comfort me. This is for my fellow chronically ill besties <3 I hope everyone is taking good care. Also I'm thinking of making a part two, if not turning this into a whole series as I have so many ideas of where to take things. Let me know your thoughts!
You can read part 2 here!
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Every year you and your high school friends visited your favorite cabin in the woods. It was cozy and old and probably too small for the seven of you; it was perfect for a summer get away. Each year you all saved up, and when the weather became too hot to bear in the city, you booked a week in the forest. The natural hot spring tub out back, the easy trails on the mountain behind, and the trees that occasionally graced you with their delicious fruit, made it your favorite place. Each and every summer you anticipated it with a giddiness that nothing else could make you feel.
***
You lived with two of your friends from high school, in a small two bedroom house not far from the neighborhood you grew up in. You and Seonghwa each had a bedroom, and Yunho's bedroom was the basement. You wouldn't have thought living with two men would lead to the clean and orderly house you resided in, but thankfully Seonghwa was as much of a clean freak as you. You lived meticulously, due to having many health issues that had been with you your whole life.
It started when you were little, with allergies developing what felt like every week. You had to be careful with what you ate, what you drank, what medication you took. Then there were the fainting spells, which started in high school. Eventually it was understood that your blood pressure was to blame, and your weak heart. And then there were your periods. Always horrible, no matter what you did. You had been put on every type of hormonal birth control at one point or another, and nothing worked. Finally you decided it wasn't worth it anymore, the hoards of drugs and doctor's appointments, and you decided to live a simple life instead, to take things easy, to not ever push too hard. To stop trying to force your body to be normal. You didn't really have a choice in the matter; your body broke down whenever it needed to, and school and work and your social life had to be pushed aside. It made these yearly trips to the woods all the more exciting. Sometimes it was the only time you got to see the group together all year.
This year as you, Seonghwa and Yunho prepared for your trip you realized one achingly frustrating thing. Your period was due to arrive on the fourth day of the trip, if it came on time. You sighed heavily when you realized this, dragging yourself up to grab pads, tampons for the hot spring, your massive bottle of Tylenol and your heating pad, and placing them in your suitcase. You just hoped it wouldn't be too bad, if it did come during the trip. Sometimes they could be late or early, and you hoped that maybe this time your body could make things easy on you, and delay it just a bit.
That night you fell asleep on the couch, accidentally staying up reading too late. As the morning light broke through the blinds you stirred, eyes squinting at the brightness. You groggily made your way towards the bathroom, barely seeing where you were going. You almost ran right into Yunho as he walked down the hall towards the kitchen, and he grabbed your shoulders to prevent you from crashing into each other.
"Good morning," he said, laughing at the state of you.
"I fell asleep on the couch," you groaned.
"Yeah I know, I saw. The book was that good?" he teased. You rolled your eyes. He didn't totally understand your obsession with reading.
"So good it almost felt like I was playing a video game, or something," you teased back.
This was the nature of your relationship with him. He was one of your closest friends by far, but you two were just so different. You worked part-time as the assistant of an accountant, and in your free time read books. He was a choreographer with a crazy schedule, and loved nothing more than gaming whenever he could. He was full of energy; you were prone to exhaustion and fainting. He needed his busy schedule, his stimulating life. You could barely handle leaving the house most of the time. But regardless of these differences your friendship blossomed. With Seonghwa it was sweeter; he was the sweetest person you'd ever met. He was usually the one who took care of you when you'd had a bad allergic reaction, or helped clean up your room when you were far too exhausted to. But Yunho had been there every time you'd had a bad fainting spell, carrying you to the hospital, staying with you overnight. He was always there for you, and made you laugh when you felt like shit. He was an invaluable part of your life, even if he didn't totally understand you.
"Ari texted the group chat late last night, did you see?" he asked you. Ari was the only other girl in the friend group, and you usually shared a room with her on your trips.
"No, what did she say?"
"She's bringing San," he said.
"Ooh, we finally get to meet him for real," you reply, lifting your eyebrows in excitement at finally meeting her new boyfriend. You'd seen pictures and talked to her about him for hours, and you couldn't wait to finally meet him in person.
"And Wooyoung is gonna bring his cousins, I think?"
"Yeah he said he's bringing Yeosang and Jongho with him this year," you reply, having just heard the news the day before while packing. "There's going to be so many of us this year, I'm not sure how we'll all sleep and everything."
"We'll figure it out when we get there," Yunho says reassuringly. Then he looks at you and chuckles. You narrow your eyes, knowing he's laughing at you. "Just go look at yourself in the mirror," he says.
You playfully shove him out of the way and make your way into the bathroom, seeing your ridiculously messy hair he was laughing at. You quickly get yourself ready for the day, knowing you all have to leave soon to pick up Ari and meet up with everyone else. When you make your way to the kitchen you see that Yunho has made you a cup of chamomile, your favorite tea. As you sip it you taste the honey he added and smile, smile at the way he seemed to read your mind. You were craving chamomile with honey today.
Seonghwa exits his room looking extremely put together in a black turtle neck and fitted black pants, his suitcase fully packed and his hair perfectly coiffed. You look down at your tank top and comfy jean shorts, and back up to him.
"You always make me look so underdressed," you say with a small pout.
"Well, you're so beautiful so you don't even have to try," he says, pulling you into a hug. A crazy thing for him to say to you, given that he's literally employed as a model. And quite successfully, at that. "Some of us have things to compensate for, clearly." He spins around, showing you his outfit and laughing at himself.
"It looks so good, but you are going to burn up in the car, Hwa," you reply.
"I'll be fine, I'll be fine," he laughs.
"He's got someone to impress, y/n, remember," Yunho interjects, handing Seonghwa the cup of coffee he made for him. Hongjoong is who he means. You giggle of the memory of them hooking up at the last summer trip, thinking they were being so sneaky when everyone knew exactly what was happening.
"How are you simultaneously so annoying and so nice," Seonghwa says to Yunho, making you all laugh.
"That's the perfect description of him," you say, shooting Yunho a smirk.
"How dare you both," Yunho replies as he makes his way down to the basement to grab his bag. He also stops by your room and grabs your suitcase, taking both down to the car and placing them in the trunk. You and Seonghwa follow after him, your tea in one hand and book in the other. You couldn't wait for a little time spent reading in the cabin.
"It's so funny how he always carries my stuff for me, like I'm some weak little thing," you say to Seonghwa.
"Well you kind of are, honey," Seonghwa says, looking at you softly. Your health issues had been flaring up again recently, and it broke his heart to see his close friend suffering so much.
"I know. It's annoying," you reply, looking away from him as you exit your house. "I just hope nothing happens while we're on the trip."
"We'll all take care of you if anything does," he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to comfort you.
"Thank you," you reply as you climbed into the back seat. You make eye contact with Yunho through the rear view mirror, his look attentive and curious.
"Ready?" he asks you, and you nod, holding his gaze. Since living with him, and really even since high school, he had driven you basically everywhere. You couldn't help but love it.
***
After meeting up with everyone at Ari's apartment you split into your two cars. You, Yunho, Seonghwa, Ari and her boyfriend San would be in Yunho's car. And Wooyoung, Hongjoong, Mingi, Yeosang and Jongho would be in Wooyoung's. You weren't sure how having ten people in the cabin would go, but you decided not to worry. This time of year was not for dread or anxiety; it was for joy and laughter.
After spending time on the drive talking to Ari and San, you realized he was just as handsome and kind as she told you. You squeezed her arm in excitement, elated that your friend had such a wonderful new boyfriend. Yunho and Seonghwa had expressed concern when they first started dating, given that Ari's last relationship wasn't healthy. But even they seemed swayed by just a few hours with San, with his sweet smile and warm conversation. You all arrived in the highest spirits, you and Ari ditching the car to let the boys carry your things while you excitedly ran to the backyard to dip your toes in the hot spring.
"God, I'm so excited we're back," she said, grabbing your hand. "And I'm excited you're meeting San. What do you think, so far?"
"He seems wonderful. Are you happy, is he always this kind?" You look at her fondly, wanting nothing more than for her to finally experience a healthy love.
"I'm so happy dude. It's just been so smooth, so calm. It's built the way I think these things are supposed to, you know? No rushing, no fighting and making up and fighting again. None of that awful shit that I used to look for. I feel like I'm finally an adult. I guess 25 is my 18," she laughs.
"Girl I'm 25 and barely even independent from my parents. You don't need to feel bad about what's come before." You squeeze her hand, a silent message of love passing between you. "I'm so, so happy for you."
As you make your way inside Yunho calls you over to him.
"Hey, we were just discussing sleeping arrangements. We were thinking Ari and San can have the room with the actual queen bed, and the rest of us boys can sleep in the living room on the couches. There's that little bed nook in the library, would you be okay sleeping there? I know you and Ari usually shared the real bed but I figure her and San would want to sleep in the same room together," he says.
"Oh, of course. But, are all of you going to fit out here with Yeosang and Jongho along?" you ask.
"Well, I'm not sure. We'll see."
"Isn't there a pull out couch in the library?" you ask. It's no surprise you know the small room better than him.
"There is?" he asks.
"Come, let's go see." He follows you through the cabin to your favorite room, seeing the small blue couch in the corner.
"I swear this thing extends or something," you say, crouching down to try to find where to push. Eventually it gives and starts moving, surprising Yunho. When it's finally extended it takes up a lot of the room, and looks almost goofy. But it's reasonably long, definitely somewhere someone else could sleep. You look up at Yunho, assessing how tall he is and how long the bed is. "Think you could fit?" you ask.
Yunho lays himself down, his legs hanging only slightly off the end of the new bed. You go and grab a pillow from your bed nook, tucking it underneath his head.
"Well it can fit one person, for sure. I doubt any more though, unless any of the boys want to be cuddled up that close," he says.
"Seonghwa and Hongjoong?" you offer. Yunho laughs.
"You want them in here doing stuff at night right next to you?" he asks. You cringe at his suggestion.
"They wouldn't do that to me," you say, shaking you head at him.
"You never know," he says, starting to make his way out of the room. "If you really just want the room to yourself, that's okay."
"No it's totally fine. You can sleep in here, if you want to. Or Seonghwa. I'd be okay with either of you. Just let me know."
Yunho nods as you both exit, heading back to the kitchen where everyone is getting ready to make dinner. Wooyoung has nine assistants today, far more than he really needs. But it's fun, bustling around the kitchen with everyone as you prepare a big feast to celebrate the start of the vacation. Soon you see Yunho carrying your bag to the library and soon after, his own bag. And you feel something in you become warm, something low in your gut.
"What are you thinking about?" Ari asks you, seeing the distant look in your eyes.
"Huh?" you say as you turn to her, genuinely surprised.
"You looked like you were daydreaming or something."
"Oh no, just spacing out, sorry," you chuckle, not sure what had just come over you.
"Well look what I got you," she says, holding up a giant bag of your favorite cheesy crackers.
"So I guess you can read my mind or something?" you joke, grabbing the bag and her in a big hug. "Wait, wait right here. I have something for you too."
You run over to the library to grab the bracelet you made Ari last month. You still hadn't had a chance to give it to her and you couldn't wait. As you enter you see Yunho slowly unpacking his bag, setting his phone and charger on the small end table but the blue couch. You rifle through your own bag to find the small box you had packed for Ari, yourself unpacking a few things in the process. In the silence of the moment you begin to feel warm again; you look over at Yunho and soak in his messy hair, his loose clothing that makes him look so soft and comfy. You stare unabashedly, unsure of what's come over you. Usually you hate starting, hate eye contact.
"What?" is all he says, but you feel like there might be something more he wants to ask.
"So you're staying in here?"
"Yeah, Hwa wants to stay with Hongjoong out there. I figured you would rather it just be one person in here with you, more comfortable for you."
You smile and reach your arms out to him, still sat on the floor. He gives you a quizzical look, insure what your gesture means.
"Come, give me a hug," you say. "You've been so thoughtful today."
In the short moments of your hug a silence hangs around the two of you. Yunho had never been one for serious sincerity. He definitely never knew what to say when you said things like this. When he stayed with you in the hospital and you cried in his arms, thanking him endlessly for being there with you. When your allergic reactions left you weak and groggy and you wouldn't stop telling him how much you loved him, and how much you worried he'd abandon you for being so needy and sick. You said the same to Seonghwa too, but Yunho could understand that better. It made more sense to him. When you said it to him it made his brain stop in a way that he still hadn't figured out.
***
The evening was off to a perfect start. Ari loved her bracelet, the project you had been promising to make her for months now, and everyone else loved it too. Everyone showered you with compliments and showered Wooyoung with them too, after tasting the delicious meal he had whipped up. You all gathered in the living room to eat, spreading out over the large L-shaped couches and the floor. A favorite cheesy movie was watched, a bottle of wine opened. Everyone laughed and relaxed, helping to clean up in the kitchen after the movie was over. And then to the hot spring you all went, as was tradition. You always started and ended the holiday with a group soak; attendance was mandatory.
In the heat and steam of the tub everyone opened up, even the most quiet among you. There was something about the nature of the tub that made everyone vulnerable, and for you it had always been one of the best parts of these trips. Everyone was cuddled up together given the size of the tub, and the proximity seemed to fuel the spilling of secrets. This year especially, with all ten of you, everyone was shoulder to shoulder. Ari sat on San's lap to try to save on space, and as everyone began piling in you ended up squeezed between Seonghwa and Yunho. The crowdedness felt like too much for you, and before he could make an objection, you decided to sit on Yunho's lap.
"There's not enough room in here," you said quietly to him when you felt his surprise.
"Yeah I know," he replied, letting you wrap his arms around you. You sensed some tension and hesitation in him, though.
"Should I move?" you asked, turning around to face him.
"No, no, you're fine. How else will we fit everyone?" he replied.
You turned around satisfied but then caught a smile on Mingi's face, one that seemed to be in reaction to you and Yunho. You shot him a confused look and he glanced away, clearly feeling caught in his reaction. And then you turned and saw Wooyoung eyeing you, too.
"What?" you said to him, turning your head and looking at him sideways.
"Nothing, nothing." But then his characteristic smirk formed on his lips; he had lost the fight in trying to delay it. You knew exactly what this meant.
"Oh god, don't tell me you have some huge piece of gossip to share with all of us," you said, sighing. It was always Wooyoung who started out with something, anything dramatic to share. He always broke the ice, and really, you appreciated it. Even if you made fun of him for being so obsessed with gossiping.
"Well, no, not really," he replied, looking almost shy. It didn't seem very characteristic of him. He took a deep breath and swallowed, and you all held your breath as you awaited his story.
"He has a crush," Mingi broke in, clearly not wanting to wait any longer. "It's this woman who choreographed for that music video we worked on a couple of weeks ago." Mingi and Wooyoung were backup dancers, and often worked on projects together.
"It's not just a crush, we're like kind of dating now," Wooyoung added, clearly shocking Mingi with this new information.
"Are you serious?" Mingi replied, and Wooyoung nodded his head. "Guys she's gorgeous. And so intense and smart. And isn't she like 40?"
"She's 37 Mingi, god," Woo replied, giggling and looking very pleased with himself. It had been a long time since he'd even been interested in dating, and everyone in the tub was looking surprised and amused. "We actually.... we hooked up on set one day."
"Wooyoung! Bad idea!" you replied, shocked he would even share this information. But then again, you were in the hot spring tub. And plenty of wine had been consumed.
"How did you even manage that?" Mingi laughed.
"In a trailer, you know.." Wooyoung trailed off, clearly embarrassed and nervous to tell the story. But just as always it had achieved the affect it needed to, and soon everyone was spilling their secrets, updating everyone on every funny thing that had happened in the past year. You continued to sip your wine, drinking slowly given how much of a lightweight you were. You hadn't finished your first glass still, even through the movie and dinner. Yunho kept making you drink water too, nervous that you'd become dehydrated and get sick. As the night wore on you relaxed more into his lap, more into his arms. You held his hands on your lower stomach, over that place that felt so warm earlier when you looked at him. Finally, when everyone decided to call it night, he wrapped a towel around you both and led you through the dark path back to the house. In your tipsy state you kept repeating "shower, shower" so he led you there, running to grab your phone when you demanded it. As you stripped out of your swimsuit and took a look at yourself in the mirror you saw that happy girl you always saw here, surrounded by her favorite people and completely content. The shower was quick but felt delicious, and as you exited you felt blissful and relaxed. Until you realized you'd forgotten to bring a towel with you.
There were only two bathrooms in the cabin, one connected to the actual master bedroom with the actual queen bed, and one for everyone else to share. You couldn't walk through the house naked and dripping with so many people here, especially Wooyoung's cousins who you didn't know well. Thankfully your phone was still there on the counter where Yunho had left it, so you called him.
"Can you bring me a towel?" you asked when he answered. And then quickly, "and some clothes too, please."
"Anything else, your highness?" Yunho teased you.
"Shut up, I'm cold," you whined.
"What clothes do you want?" he asked.
"Just, those black shorts and one of my t-shirts, I don't care which. Just something comfy for sleeping in."
"No underwear?" he asked.
"Yes no underwear, I'm about to go to bed. I usually sleep naked but I have to wear clothes when we're here." You swore his breath hitched a bit.
"Be there in a moment," he replied before ending the call. In a moment he was there, knocking the door. You opened it slowly, and saw him holding his arm out to you while dramatically facing his head the other way.
"You don't have to be so damn weird, I know you've seen plenty of naked humans in your life," you said, laughing at him.
"You make me sound like a slut," he replied.
"Maybe you are, how am I to know."
"I can't believe you of all people are calling me a slut."
"What the hell does that mean?" you ask, eyes wide.
"I know those little romance books you read are full of smut," he challenges you.
"I'm literally reading a book about history right now, thank you very much," you respond.
"Yeah the history of changing attitudes about sex. Even your non-fiction reads are horny."
You stand still for a moment, mouth agape. You didn't realize Yunho payed that much attention to the books you were reading. To know what he just said about your current book, he would have had to at least read the synopsis on the inside cover, if not a bit of the introductory chapter. You feel a little weird that he'd sneakily been perusing your book when you hadn't been looking, probably this morning while you were asleep on the couch, you guessed. But something about it felt really nice too. Like he cared to know you, cared to know about the things you liked. Even if they were so different from what he usually was into.
"Are you two good?" Seonghwa asked as he meandered down the hall, hearing the slight intensity in your tone during your conversation with Yunho. At the sound of his voice you both snapped out of it, and at seeing you naked he turned around with a quick, 'oh, sorry,' before heading back to the living room.
You dried off and dressed quickly, realizing you spent several moments naked in front of Yunho while you argued. It wasn't really an argument, more a discussion maybe? Or a confession? He admitted to knowing what kind of books you liked to read, and you hadn't denied it. None of it had to mean anything, you implored yourself. As you had said, he'd seen plenty of other people naked before. Well, at least several. It's just the trip, the glass of wine consuming your brain and making you fuzzy. But it felt like things had shifted that day.
***
As you and Yunho settled into bed you began chatting, and before you knew it, it was the early hours of the morning, the time you rarely stayed up to, the time when the world felt like a completely different place to you.
"I've missed you," you said, sighing into the comfort of the blankets and pillows beneath you.
"Me too," Yunho replied, quickly. Like the response was almost involuntary. You opened your eyes to look at him, as his words weren't what you were expecting.
"I'm sorry I've been so busy. I miss hanging out with you, just the two of us," he continued. "You're one of my favorite people on planet earth, you know that right?" It was completely out of character for him. Like the years of sincerity he'd kept inside had been begging to be let free and he finally obliged. You sat up and walked to the couch he laid on, mere steps from your bed. You leaned down next to him and hugged him, too tired to give a verbal response. You sighed and nuzzled your face into his shoulder, relaxing on top of him completely.
"Are you still tipsy?" he asked.
"No, why?" you asked. You were too tired to move your head.
"You're only this touchy when you're drunk usually."
"I don't really ever get drunk though."
"I know, I mean, this is how you used to get when you would get drunk. Like in high school, when we'd drink."
"Oh. Sorry?" you asked. You didn't really understand why he was telling you this.
"No, I like it. I was just, trying to joke around," he sighed. "Wasn't the right moment probably. Wasn't funny."
You fell into a silence again, briefly.
"So it's fine, right? I can hug you?" you asked.
"Yes, of course." To prove his point he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, one hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. "You seem happy right now, today."
"I am, these trips always make me happy," you reply.
"Your happiness means a lot to me." He seemed almost nervous to say it, like he had to work himself up to it.
"Why are you being so sappy today?" you laugh, nuzzling farther into him. He glanced at the clock on the wall, looking for an excuse.
"It's 2am, I don't know."
"Shit, it's that late? I should really get some sleep." You knew the plan for tomorrow was hiking up to the water fall, and though the hike was neither long nor strenuous, you still wanted to be well rested. "Goodnight," you said as you dragged yourself up, planting a quick peck on his cheek before crawling into your bed. Sleep enveloped you quickly, given the relaxing nature of the day and the late hour. Yunho turned himself over, trying to get comfortable on the small pull out couch. You didn't see the bright pink of his cheeks, or the rapid rise and fall of his chest. You had no idea you had any affect on him. A life of sickness had left you mostly uninterested in pursuing romantic affections, and you'd truly never dreamed of a long term romantic partnership with anyone. Yunho knew this, well. But he couldn't stop his feelings, no matter how hard he tried to.
***
In the morning you were woken by a bright, hot stream of sun that shined through the window, that late morning sunshine that is surprisingly warm on clear-skied days like today. With a groan you cracked open your eyes to see that Yunho had already awoken and left, the room silent. Your head felt groggy and your stomach ached a bit, and you instantly scolded yourself for drinking your first night and staying up so late. Sure, it had been fun in the moment, but you couldn't afford to make yourself feel poorly on such a special trip. You hoisted yourself up, taking a swig from your nearly empty water bottle that Yunho must have put on the side of your bed. You certainly didn't remember putting it there.
When you finally pushed yourself up to stand you felt something wet on your bed. You turned around expecting to find some spilt water, but were instead greeted with a disappointing and frustrating sight. A small streak of blood ran across the beautiful, light blue sheets. As you felt around your shorts you found a spot there too, wet and cold against your fingers. You let out a frustrated sigh, running yourself to the bathroom with a new change of underwear and shorts and a pad in hand. You desperately rinsed your shorts in the sink, your mind beginning to spin and spin. What were you going to do about the bedsheets?
As you came back into your small room you didn't notice Yunho, your focus entirely on where you could hang your shorts to dry. When he spoke you jumped back in complete shock, nearly falling over.
"You okay?" he asked, lurching forward to try to prevent you from falling. You thankfully caught yourself in time, but then your eyes wandered to your bed and you knew he'd seen.
"I don't know what I'm gonna fucking do," you started, tears forming your eyes from the embarrassment. It wasn't getting your period that made you feel so weird, it was the fact that you'd stained the nice bedsheets at the nice cabin you and your friends were renting, and it was only the second day.
"Well, what do you need? I'm sure we can get that stain out of the sheets," Yunho offered, hoping it would make you feel better.
"We? They have my blood on them," you responding, trembling. Why were you so worked up, what the hell had gotten into you? Your own anxiety at the situation shocked you and Yunho both.
"It's just blood, y/n. And it's like barely anything." Yunho grabbed your upper arms to steady you, worried your trembling would land you in a heap on the floor. And then suddenly, a horrible cramp stabbed its way through your abdomen. You immediately groaned and grabbed your side, leaning against one of the bookshelves to support yourself.
"Fuck, I need my Tylenol," you breathed out, trying to calm yourself. It felt like your entire body was collapsing on you in an instant. And your period had only just started early this morning, maybe only a few hours ago from the looks of it.
Yunho grabbed two Tylenol and and opened your water bottle, offering you both one after the other. He had seen Seonghwa do this many times and he hoped he was doing it right. You quickly swallowed the pills and took a deep breath, worried you wouldn't be able to join everyone for the hike that day. A tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away, wanting to push down your feelings of discomfort.
"I just need to wait until this kicks in and I'll be okay," you said, hoping it sounded convincing. Hoping it was true.
"Let me clean your sheet, then," Yunho said, leading you down to lay on the pull out couch.
"Do you even know how to clean out blood?" you asked, shoving your face into his pillow. It smelled so good and suddenly you felt warm again, this time through your whole body.
"I was gonna ask Ari about it," he said. "If it's okay for me to tell her."
"Ask Hwa for help too, he knows," you replied. With a sigh you wrapped yourself tightly in his blanket, hiding your face. Everything that had happened this morning was so frustrating, and you couldn't stop feeling angry at your body for always ruining your plans.
Remarkably, twenty minutes later you did feel a lot better. No more severe jabs of pain had come, and once you got some food in you and washed your face, you felt ready for the day. Everyone packed their bathing suits for the falls and put on their good shoes for hiking, and with snacks and waters in hand you made your way up to the edge of the forest to find the start of the trail.
You walked arm in arm with Ari, picking flowers off the side of the path to put in each other's hair. The blossoms in this area were beautiful during this time of year, and the trees made the trail quiet and calm and cool. When you ran out of space in Ari's hair you started putting the flowers in Seonghwa and Hongjoong's too, the only other two who walked the trail as slowly as you and Ari did. Even with the slow pace you began to feel queasy about half way up, and when you sat down, unable to take it anymore, Seonghwa called out to Yunho. He came and crouched down in front of you, telling you to climb onto his back, and carried you the rest of the way, the gentle breeze blowing his hair into your face and tickling your nose. It was a bit longer now than it had been in a while, looking almost like a shaggy mullet. As it brushed across your face you realized you thought it looked really good on him, how it complimented his long neck and round cheeks. You shook your head trying to stir yourself out of your daydream. You had always recognized he was attractive, but you didn't like him like that, never had. Why did you care how well his hairstyle complimented his face?
At the falls you sat on a long log at the edge of the small lake, not feeling up to swimming and playing with everyone else. Seonghwa could sense it easily, and after Yunho asked for his help that morning cleaning your sheets he knew why. He sat with you, not bothering to put on his suit either. He had wanted to talk to you anyway, wanted to spend a moment alone. These trips were always fun but it was hard to get one on one time with anyone.
"You okay?" he asked as you watched the others playing in the water, Yunho and Mingi wrestling each other for an inflatable ball. It seemed like they were all playing some sort of water polo from the looks of things.
"Yeah, yeah. Just my period. How are you?" you asked turning to him, seeing the conflict behind his eyes.
"I'm... I'm fucking spiraling, girl." He shook his head and dropped it onto your shoulder, letting out a massive sigh.
"Why, cause of that guy?" you asked, looking in the direction of Hongjoong. Seonghwa just nodded. In the brilliance of the mid day sun Hongjoong looked like he was shining, his tattoos standing out starkly against his pale skin. The ball was in his hand and San lunged for him, and he threw it up just in time as they crashed into each other, a laughing mess. As the two came up for air San was repeatedly apologizing, the both of them being yelled at by the other players to get back in the game. After some more moments of play Hongjoong grabbed onto a rock on the side of the small lake underneath the waterfall, pulling himself up to grab a bottle of water a few feet away. As he pulled himself up you saw the ripple of his chest and abdomen.
"Damn, he's like really ripped," you said, smiling down at Seonghwa.
"Don't say shit like that to me," he groaned into your shoulder. "You're just making this worse."
"What's wrong? Why are you spiraling?" you asked him.
"Dude, I like him a lot. Like a lot a lot." Seonghwa's hand came up to his face, a small whimper escaping his lips. You knew he was on the verge of crying.
"Come here," you said, turning towards him to give him a proper hug. "Everything's gonna be okay."
"Not if he doesn't like me back," Seonghwa replied.
"He obviously likes you back, what do you mean?"
"I'm just, I just- I don't know what's going to happen. When we all go back to the city. When we're here we're all over each other but then real life comes and I barely see him. I thought I was over it. But clearly not." Soft tears fall from his eyes, down his cheeks and onto the dirt of the forest floor.
"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry," you replied, rubbing your hand up and down his back to comfort him. "You've got to talk to him about it."
"I know, I know, I just." He sighed. "I know I need to, and it's gonna be awkward as hell but I just need to."
"You can do it, I know you can," you said, squeezing him tightly. "Crushes are the fucking worst aren't they."
Seonghwa laughed as you separated, wiping the final tears from his cheeks and sighing more freely. He knew you'd always be there for him, no matter what happened. You didn't need to say it now. And you'd already discussed how it might be awkward for the group if they dated and then broke up. Last year, after your last cabin trip, it was discussed. Even with Yunho. You all agreed that Hwa should do what he wanted, and not worry about everyone else in the group. You were all adults now, and he didn't need to torture himself just to save everyone else's feelings. But it seemed he had tortured himself this last year, anyway. You had thought he maybe was over Hongjoong, that it was just a little fling at the cabin that year. But now you saw that wasn't true.
***
Back at the cabin Wooyoung made another delicious meal, and everyone gathered around the table in the living room for some charades. You took more Tylenol with dinner, your cramps having returned in full force once you made it back to your home base. All through dinner and games you tried to put on a smile, tried to get distracted in the fun. But it wasn't working. As soon as you finished your food you excused yourself, cleaned your dishes and then made your way to your room. You changed your pad for what felt like the fourth time that hour, then plugged your heating pad into the wall as you readied your bed. It was maybe only seven or eight in the evening, but you couldn't take it any longer. And your trusty Tylenol didn't seem to be working well tonight.
After some time resting in bed you heard the door open. Turning your head you saw Yunho walking in with a steaming cup of tea, gingerly handing it over to you to grab.
"How are you feeling?" he asked. The gentle light from the lamp in the corner made his eyes look soft and shiny. He looked down at you with concern, his eyes locked on yours.
"I'm okay," you managed, trying hard not to wince obviously at the pain that had just seared through you.
"I thought, some tea might help. I don't know," he said, his cheeks and ears going every so slightly crimson.
"It does, it's very soothing. Thank you, Yuyu," you said, his favorite nickname rolling off your tongue. Another streak of pain runs through you and you can't stop your face from scrunching up in pain, making Yunho's heart sink.
"What can we do, what makes it better?" he asked.
"There's not much, really, other than what I've done. I took my Tylenol, I've been drinking water, my heating pad, this tea..." You trailed off, smiling for a second at the only other method you know to help alleviate the cramps a bit.
"What, is there something else?" Yunho asked.
"No, well, not really. Basically, at home sometimes if my cramps are really bad it actually helps to like, you know, masturbate. Like it doesn't even necessarily feel super sexual, it just seems to help the muscles down there like relax, when they're all tight and like spasming and stuff." You quickly took a sip of your tea, suddenly noticing your heart rate had sky rocketed. "Obviously I can't do that here, so like it's not an option right now but, yeah, that just, uh, came to my mind."
"You can do that here, if it would help," Yunho replied, fascinated by your rambling. You really didn't get that way often, and he thought it was funny that this was the topic that made you this way.
"No, stop. Plus, I don't even have my tools or anything," you blurted out, suddenly wishing you hadn't.
"Tools?" he asked.
"You know, like, vibrator, dildo, et cetera," you replied, looking at him mildly mortified.
"Ah, I see," he replied with a simple nod of his head. "You don't have to be so nervous talking to me about this. I literally saw you naked last night. Plus, I swear I've heard you and Hwa talking about this kind of stuff a lot?"
Your body fluttered at his admission that he looked at your naked body, and suddenly you felt flushed and flustered. "It's different with him," you said, not meaning to sound so pissed.
"Why, cause he likes guys like you, and I don't?" Yunho asked. He really was genuinely curious.
"Yeah, I guess, I don't know. Yunho, I can't do this right now. I feel like shit." Tears welled in your eyes at all of the conflicting feelings you were having, and you just wanted everything to stop.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he replied, his tone softer. He came over to stroke his hand through your hair, hoping it would distract you from your pain. "I just want to make you feel better."
"There's not really much to do, I just have to bear it. First day is always the worst. Go, have fun with everyone. I don't want this to ruin your evening along with mine."
With a final stroke of your hair Yunho stood, and repeating your action from the night before, leaned down and planted a kiss on your cheek.
"Feel better," he said. This time he saw the color come to your cheeks, and your shy smile as your turned your head away from him.
***
When he reentered your room it was dark, only the light from the moon illuminating the floor. Your heating pad was on the floor, and as he walked towards you it looked like you were asleep; your eyes were closed, breaths were steady and you were curled up on your side with your blanket tucked high into your neck.
He settled down himself, trying his best to be silent. The pull out couch wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, if he was honest. But he really liked sleeping with you in here, and he was thankful you had let him. He had wanted to ask you straight away, when you showed him the pull out couch. But he treaded lightly, not wanting to push anything.
After a few moments spent responding to texts he finally settled into bed, curling up himself. He heard you shifting around slightly but figured you were just dreaming. Same with the changes in breath he swore he heard. He pleaded with himself to stop worrying and just let you be. But then, he heard a sniffle. Then another. And finally a small whimper, unmistakeable.
"Y/n, you're awake aren't you?" he asked, his voice low. All you could do was let out a groan in response. On instinct Yunho's body shot up, and within a second he was at the side of your bed peering down at you. "Hey, look at me."
You turned over slowly, the pain of your abdomen making it hard for you to move. You looked up at him and he caught a glimpse of your tear stained cheek, your blood shoot eyes and your puffy face. You had been crying, silently, for a while.
"Why did you turn off your heating pad?" he asked you.
"I need to sleep," you squeaked out, sniffling.
"But you're in pain," he said, resting his hand on your cheek. "Can I turn it back on for you?" You nod your head, feeling exasperated and desperate for relief.
"Are you sure there's nothing else that would help? What if I rubbed your back?" Yunho asked, as desperate for your pain to end as you were.
"That might help," you manage, closing your eyes and trying to take in the relief of your heating pad being back on.
Yunho crawls behind you on the bed, and slowly starts massaging you back, focusing his movements on your low back and side that you always seemed to grab onto. His hands feel searingly hot on your body, even with your thin shirt in between, and you begin to tremble uncontrollably.
"Sorry, I'm so cold," you tell him. "And I didn't bring anything warm to wear cause I'm stupid and assumed it would be hot out here."
"Hey, hey, stop that. You are not stupid," he replies. You feel him pull away for a second. "Here, sit up," he says as he reaches his arms out to help you. Before you know it you're being enveloped in the feeling of his hoodie that he just took off; it's warm and smells sweet. He settles back behind you, hands under the hoodie but still over your shirt as he continues to massage you gently. He can feel how tight the muscles in your back and side are, and he can't imagine how awful everything feels inside.
With his hoodie on and his hands on your back you feel like you're surrounded by him, and you aren't ready for the way it makes you feel. You're still groggy but you feel more grounded, and your body feels tingly and alive. It makes the pain almost more present, but it also makes everything else so clear, like the way his strong hands move along your side and the way the hoodie smells better than anything. Your body aches, even your legs, but it's your throbbing pussy that catches you off guard, the way his smell makes you want to open up and be taken.
All at once you realize the dilemma you are in. Being horny on your period wasn't exactly out of the ordinary, but now you were in a bed, horny on your period with a beautiful man, one who clearly loves you and wants nothing more than to make you feel better. You sigh, putting a hand on his to stop his movements, and you roll over to face him. His perfect face is inches from yours and you can't bear it, instead moving yourself down to bury your face in his chest. Your legs intertwine as you grab onto him, the two of you cuddling closer than you have in a very long time. He reaches his arm around you to keep rubbing your back, nuzzling his face into your hair. He's never told you, but he loves the smell of your hair so much. You use an unscented shampoo, due to your sensitivities. So he knows it's just your smell. And fuck it makes him feel creepy, but he's thankful every time you hug him and he gets a moment to take in that smell. Now, as always, he's fighting with himself to not get hard.
Your sighs become deeper as he continues to rub, and he reaches his hand under your shirt, testing the waters. You sigh blissfully at the skin to skin contact, his hand making your skin feel alive. As he keeps rubbing your head falls back, your body going nearly slack at how good it feels. You don't even realize for a moment but you've started moving your hips, rubbing yourself up and down his thigh that sits in between your legs. Your breath deepens and Yunho can't believe what he's seeing, his head swimming with desire as he watches your face, hears your soft sounds. A surge of pride washes through him at seeing how good you are feeling. "Baby," the word slips out of his mouth and you open your eyes, met with his large pupils and full pink lips.
"Kiss me," you whisper, opening your lips to let him in. He doesn't hesitate a moment, and suddenly your met with plush softness and his warm tongue as it brushes ever so slightly across yours. The feeling is intoxicating, igniting something in you that you hadn't felt in a long time. Your buck your hips against his leg harder, almost painfully, but it feels necessary. Your pussy is throbbing harder now, harder than you thought was really possible for you. You deepen the kiss, opening your mouth wider and sliding your tongue over his, moaning at the way it makes your clit feel. You need more, need something inside you soothing the aching muscles of your cunt, but you don't want to break the perfection of the kiss. You break away for a second, whimpering and throwing your head back in pained bliss. When your lips make contact again your hands are under his shirt and grabbing onto him, desperation dictating your every move.
"Please, can I touch you? Can I make you feel better?" he's asking, and his voice feels so good in your ear it's almost like you're on another planet.
"I'm bloody," you cry softly, the reality of the situation still not entirely escaping you.
"You really think I care about that?" he asks you, his hand coming up to brush along your cheek. You look at him with pleading eyes, wanting nothing more than to let him take care of you. Another wave of pain strikes through you and you whimper, grabbing your side again. Yunho brushes over it, kissing you gently on the cheek. More tears form in your eyes, the pain not subsiding this time. You begin to cry, your body shaking as you do. You don't know what else to do.
"Please help me," you plead out, still shaking.
"Where do you want me to touch you?" he asks, moving his hand down, now rubbing over your hip and upper thigh. The closer his hand gets to your core the more needy you feel, and you whine and buck your hips into him instead of responding.
"Baby please use your words, I don't want to hurt you," Yunho begs you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.
"Inside, please. But be gentle, the muscles are so tight," you say with a pout, making Yunho's head spin.
"Wait a sec," he says, moving off your bed to grab a towel from his bag. He places it down next to you and then begins removing your shorts and panties, one at a time. He's slow and steady in his movements, which makes it feel all the more intimate. Once they are off he gently moves you onto the towel and then slowly spreads your legs, massaging your thighs as the muscles there are tight as well. Your short frame dwarfed in his hoodie is maybe the cutest thing he's ever seen, and the look of desperation on your face is maybe the hottest.
"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice low and his hands oh so close to where you need them. You nod, spreading your legs even more in an invitation. Slowly he makes his way up, gently brushing his hand over your exposed lips, hoping not to shock you with the contact. Once you've settled into his touch he finally starts circling your entrance, making you mewl in anticipation. He sinks one finger in and immediately you groan in relief, already feeling so full. He can't believe how tight you are, can't believe that only one finger can fit. He begins moving slowly, as gently as he can, stroking up and down and finding that spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back. Your body immediately starts feeling better, the muscles in your core finally having something to squeeze onto. Your pussy feels warm and perfect and he desperately wants to see you come undone, on his fingers, on his cock. As you relax into his touch he feels your walls finally open up a bit, and slowly he pulls back, this time pushing two fingers in.
The wave of pleasure is instant, filling your low belly with sparkly warmth. You begin to rock yourself onto his fingers too, desperate for a bit more. He starts moving with a bit more force, still holding back and scared to hurt you. It's just the right amount of speed and pressure and you find your mind drifting, everything around you feeling warm and tingly and soft. You don't pay attention to your sounds; you don't care. Finally after your terrible day of pain he's taking care of you, and you just relax and let your body take control. Your high is building, oh so slowly. You can feel it in your legs all the way to your toes, the sparklers dancing down your body. Yunho's own breathing deepens as you start to moan, his body reacting to your sounds of pleasure. He needs desperately to make you come, to make you feel good. But he can feel your body resisting, ever so slightly.
"Baby, relax, relax if you can," he coos down at you, stroking his free hand over your thigh muscles that still feel tight. "Just focus on what feels good."
Your mind goes to his long fingers, to how deep they are inside you, how perfect they feel. The pressure in the perfect spots, making your entire body loose and happy. Suddenly he moves his free hand up, his thumb stroking gently over your clit. You moan loudly, all of your muscles finally releasing, and suddenly the feeling builds out of nowhere, from your fingertips and your toes and the top of your head, surging towards your center. You come, gently at first and then harder as Yunho continued to stroke you, intense pleasure rolling over you. It takes a long time for you to fully ride it out, your whole body processing what just happened. Finally your head feels clear and settled, your body no longer achey.
In the moonlight Yunho cleans you up, kissing you and whispering, 'I'll be right back.' After cleaning his hand and helping you back into your panties and shorts, he wraps himself around you, kissing your cheek and your exposed neck and relishing the relaxed state of your body. You are out before you know it, his warmth sedating.
***
A light storm rolled over the mountain in the night, covering the sky in gentle clouds. Without the brightness of the sun to wake you, you and Yunho both slept in, your bodies wanting nothing other than rest and each other's company. In the later hours of the morning Seonghwa became concerned, worried that you weren't doing well. When you left dinner early the night before he worried too, but when Yunho checked on you and returned assuring him that you were fine, he had let it go. He never wanted you to feel bothered, like he was keeping too close of an eye on you. You were your own person and capable of asking for what you needed. He knew that.
But when the time reached 11am he couldn't stop himself. It was just weird, given how early you had gone to bed, and the fact that you were normally an early riser. Gently he opened the door to the library, feeling mildly awkward. He wasn't sure what he would be greeted with, thought he did have a few ideas. He shook his head trying to brush his suspicions away. He knew if they were really true, you both would have told him.
"Y/n," he called from the open door, not seeing Yunho on the couch. Your body was hidden by the nook in the wall you slept in, forcing him to walk more into the room. You groaned at the sound, coming up from such a deep state of sleep. You didn't realize where you were, didn't realize Yunho was still cuddling you. As you went to stretch you accidentally hit him, waking him up with a jolt.
"Fuck, sorry," you said in a groggy voice, laughing. He instantly wrapped around you tightly, his mind not totally awake. As he squeezed you tight you let out a squeak, not expecting it. Neither of you realized Seonghwa was right there.
"So I'm guessing you're both okay?" Seonghwa said, and your brain finally registered it. You looked up at him in shock, feeling suddenly exposed. You nodded, trying not to be awkward. What did it matter really, that Yunho was sleeping in the same bed as you?
"I'm feeling better," you replied. "Got a lot of sleep."
"Sure," Seonghwa chuckled, looking between the two of you.
"Hwa! Go away!" you retorted, playfully rolling your eyes at him. Yunho remained uncharacteristically quiet behind you, but his arms didn't leave you for a second.
"Okay I will. Just glad you're alive," he chuckled again, making his way out of the room.
You shoved your face in your pillow, pushing yourself back further into Yunho's embrace.
You definitely had some explaining to do.
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silkjade-archived · 1 year
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This js not a request or anything, I just wanted to tell someone about this😊
SLIGHT ARCHON QUEST SPOILERS!!
(i think, soryr☹️)
Fontaine would be SO good for mermaid aus
Like imagine a wrio x mermaid!reader where wrio saw the reader first from that window In his office or what💪
Even better if the reader gets sick or just fatigue from the primodial water
And the guy is like: 😱😭
And then boom he has a mermaid with him, In his own office🤯
⤀ cw: fem!reader, no pronouns mentioned ⤀ a/n: OMG OKAY I FINISHED THE AQ && UR SO RIGHT ! this gave me sm brainrot wah i had to write a litto smthg >.< but I can see him being pretty chill about it too… (sort of a spinoff to the alhaitham mermaid au I guess hehe)
perhaps every so often, wriothesley would get tiny glimpses of you in between those giant stalks of seagrass, but the moment passes by so quickly that he just brushes it off as nothing. probably just a bubbler seahorse that wandered into the area or something
‘eh whatever. as long as it doesn’t pose a threat—there are weirder things out there.’
when he has his first suspicions that primordial seawater might be leaking into the normal seawater, he takes it upon himself to personally check on the pipes and investigate. however, once he gets to the abandoned zone at the end, he finds... a washed up mermaid ?
hes honestly a little bit amused as to how you could've ended up here, and his initial instinct was to just toss you back into the sea. but it's not like you're some otter caught in a fisherman's net; you’re breathing so laboriously and feverish to the touch, on the verge of passing out… so he scoops you up and takes you to sigewinne. which is how when you finally come to, you find yourself in a tank in the duke of meropide's office
(some headcanons below the cut ! a little bit suggestive at the end ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎ )
he introduces you to tea, but it’s so bitter ! perhaps mermaid tastes are more aligned with that of melusines because wriothesley basically short circuits when you tell him you prefer sigewinne’s milkshakes
in his attempts to sway you to his side, he’s scouring his collection left and right, brewing different teas that he hopes you might like
“alright, how about this one? it's light, with a hint of sweet flowers and bulle fruit."
"i still like sigewinne's milkshake better."
speaking of sigewinne, she definitely catches all the minuscule changes in wriothesley's facial expressions whenever he talks to you. and so of course she and her melusine friends start adding stickers of you onto his belongings too.
he takes them off to save face but stashes them away somewhere in his desk
once you've recovered enough, he'd help you out of the tank, and when your tail dries into human legs, he'd take you on a tour around the fortress as 'a friend from the overworld.'
however, you notice how everyone else addresses wriothesley with his title and you worry that maybe you've been too casual with someone so important?
so when you also start addressing him as 'your grace,' during afternoon tea in his office, he almost chokes on his own tea. you tilt your head in confusion because his cheeks are so flush and he can barely look you in the eye. it takes him a second to gather his composure
oh archons above it makes him want to do unspeakable things hearing you say that, so at least for now....
"please, just wriothesley is fine."
continuation
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holylulusworld · 7 months
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Alone again - Naturally
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Summary: Even around your so-called friend you are alone.
Pairing: Clark Kent x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, loner reader, introvert reader, flirty Clark, low self-esteem, almost accident, fluff, Lois bashing
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Alone again. Naturally.
You should’ve known better than to go out with your so-called friend.
A few years back Lois Lane was your best friend. Now you are only an excuse for her to go to a bar or attend a party without one of her flings.
She always was the one drawing all the attention toward her person. In high school, during your freshman year and after you landed your first job at a cat magazine.
Lois Lane. The rising star.
You have always been in her shadow, and this will never change. If you are shy, meek, and introverted, people easily overlook you.
Just like tonight. Lois is once again the center of the party. She chuckles loudly and bathes in the attention she gets from the men in the room.
You sigh deeply, wishing you didn’t follow her invitation to the party her employer throws only for her.
Her latest article got all the attention, while your job led to nothing but articles about birthdays, other people’s weddings, and missing cats.
Your career is just like your love life – non-existent.
Her laughter fills the room, and when she looks your way you hope Lois will save you from drowning in self-pity. Sadly, she turns her back on you to talk to someone else than you.
She always does this. Sometimes you believe she’s the cruelest person on the planet. Maybe she only keeps you around to show you how much better her life is.
“I’ve never seen you around here,” crap, someone found you standing in the corner. Now you have to engage in small talk. You wring your hands and force a smile on your face. “Hi, I’m Clark Kent.”
“Hi,” you glance at his offered hand and murmur your name. “I’m not working here.”
“I got that,” he flashes you a stunning smile. “I assume one of the gentlemen brought his charming girlfriend with him. A shame he left you here.”
“Oh, no,” you shake your head. “Lois invited me and she’s…” You bite your tongue. This man is a stranger, and you don’t want him to believe you are the kind of person talking behind your friend’s back. “She’s busy and I’m not much of a partygoer.”
“Honestly, I came here to hide in the shadows. I’m not much of a partygoer myself,” he grins and finally drops his hand. “So, what do you do for a living.”
“I’m a…” You are embarrassed to admit that you are working for an unimportant online magazine that barely anyone reads. “I write articles.”
“Oh, I’d like to read some. Where can I read them?” He gives you a soft smile. “Anything I should read first?”
“I write about missing cats and such,” you drop your eyes to avert his gaze. “Nothing important like you and Lois. I guess no one even reads the things I write.”
“I’d still like to read your articles.”
“It’s fine, really,” you sniff, and wring your hands again. “I know that the things I write about are boring. No one wants to know about Miss Fluffy ending up stuck in the neighbor’s car. You don’t want to read the things I wrote about.”
“Never underestimate your talent,” Clark tries to cheer you up, but you don’t believe a single word leaving his lips. “I’m sure you are a very good author.”
“No. I’m not.” Your fake smile drops. “I know my place, Mr. Kent.” You get defensive and step back. “You should go back to the party and talk to more interesting people.”
“What about?” He asks as you try to find a way to sneak out of the room without drawing any attention toward you. “Why don’t you come with me and talk to some of the people in the room?”
“I told you, I’m not much of a partygoer, or good at making small talk,” you wince at your words. You sound like the pathetic loser you are in your opinion. “Uh-I should go now.”
“What about Lois?” Clark takes a step toward you. “Don’t you want to say goodbye to her at least?”
You glance at Lois and quickly avert her gaze. She’s not in the mood to hold your hand or talk to you. “I think she’s good without me.” Your voice cracks. “I don’t even know why she invited me.”
“Wait—” Clark tries to stop you, but you hurriedly make your way toward the exit. “Y/N, don’t just go.”
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You are out of breath when you finally leave the building. Feeling like a fool for coming here to watch Lois celebrate another milestone in her career.
Before you can go back and apologize to her for leaving without saying goodbye, you hurriedly cross the street.
One moment you want to reach the other side, and the next a car speeds toward you. You gasp, and close your eyes, waiting for the impact.
You don’t feel the car hit you, and you don’t end up dead on the street. You’re suddenly high up in the air, clutching Superman’s suit.
“You should be more careful.”
“I-“ you look up at the superhero you heard so much about. Rumors said that he was dating Lois Lane not so long ago too. At least you read an article telling you so. “Clark?” You furrow your brows as the same soft eyes you saw not moments ago look back at you. “How…?”
“What? I—” He seems to be confused. You’re the first person to uncover his secret. “Y/N, you can’t just run over the street. That’s dangerous.”
“Okay,” you hastily say. I mean, you are floating above a building, your life in a stranger’s hands, and you won't argue with him. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“You can worry me any time,” he wraps one arm around you to bring you closer to his chest. “How about I bring you home?”
“Does…uh…Lois know about your secret identity?” You can’t stop yourself from babbling.
“No,” he whispers lowly. “I guess she wouldn’t have left Clark Kent if she knew I got a secret,” Clark smirks when you look at him with wide, fearful eyes.
“You won’t drop me, right? I swear I won’t tell anyone about your secret.” You claw at him. “No one would listen to me anyway.”
“Do you honestly believe I’d drop you?” He quirks a brow.
“No…I mean…you’re a hero…right?” You pout. “I didn’t want to find out. It’s just…your eyes give you away.”
“I should wear sunglasses from now on,” he laughs while floating toward the next building to land on the rooftop. “If you promise to not tell anyone about my secret, I believe you. And I won’t drop you, sweetness.”
“Hmm…” You nod thoughtfully. “Did you date Lois as Superman too?”
He laughs now. “No. She didn’t know we were the same person. Lois broke up with me for Superman and the stories she wanted to write about him.”
“Oh, that’s awful,” you pat his chest, admiring its firmness. “I’m sorry this happened to you. Sometimes she’s just…” You trail off while patting his chest. “You know…”
“Let me bring you home,” Clark stops you from defending your friend. “Please.”
“Can we…uh…walk?”
“I’m already in my suit and got no clothes to change back into Clark,” he lies. Clark could easily change back into his alter ego, but he’d love to fly you home.
“Does this mean you want to fly?” You suck in a breath. “Do you have a seat belt or something?”
“I’ll bring you home safely, Y/N.” You end up back in his arms. This time you sling your arms around him and hold tight onto Clark for dear life. You close your eyes and hide your face in his chest.
You squeak when he pushes off the building. “Now that you know about my secret, do you want to fly with me again someday?”
“Uh-“ you blink your eyes open but still claw at him. “If you bring me home safely, we can do this again.”
“It’s a date then,” he smiles and flies into the night, making a detour to hold you a little longer…
Part 2: Not alone any longer
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Tags in reblog.
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multidimensionbb · 2 months
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New Mini Event: The Great MCYT WIP Purge
Hello everyone! Luna here! I had an idea for a new mini event, and this time, it's all about the WIPs!
We all know fanartists/writers of all stripes habitually struggle to finish WIP(Works In Progress)s. I know I certainly do. After one too many stressful nights where I agonized over projects I'd forever left unfinished, I came to a solution: AN EVENT!
This event is all about finishing the WIPs! They can be any length, any medium, any MCYT corner--anything! There are no word limits, no finish levels, no nothing--all that matters is that you finish it to your comfort level so it stops haunting you at night (or maybe that's just me, who knows).
If you're a perfect angel who doesn't have any WIPs (lucky you) or you want to help someone else beat their demonic art block with a stick, you can sign up to be a part of the hype squad! Each participant will be assigned a member of the hype squad based on their interests (which will be determined similarly to a big bang, because I apparently love torturing myself with spreadsheets). The hype squad will help the participants with brainstorming and advice when they need it, because making stuff is always more fun with a designated partner in crime!
You can be a hype squad member and a participant if you'd like, just make sure you have enough energy to do both, okay? No burnout! You may also sign up with a pre-selected hype squad and save me a bit of a headache, if you already have a friend you'd like to run with.
If any of this sounds interesting to you, fill out the interest check linked below to help me out! It'll be open until the 15 of August, so you've got two weeks to decide! I hope you guys find this event as helpful as I do. We can do this together :^D
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cloudwisp · 3 months
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football player!gojo x cheerleader!reader
contents: fluff, suggestive. he's a little bit (a lot) of a playboy but he's absolutely smitten with you. nothing coherent, just vibes. 1.6k wc.
꒰ note ᰔ I’ve been watching early 2000s romcoms and this idea has been stuck in my head ever since. ꒱
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⭒ You’re newly recruited on the cheerleading squad, and that alone caught Gojo’s attention when he spots a pretty new girl stretching her arms and legs in the open field at the start of practice. You’ve heard about him, of course. The girls like to share stories about him and the most popular jocks in school along with crushes and boyfriends in the locker room. They say he’s good in bed but never sticks around long enough for something serious. Always seen with a different girl each week and they can only hope and dream to be his one and only someday.
⭒ You have to admit that he’s good looking, so unfairly handsome with quick wits and good humor that will keep you entertained for hours in his company. He always gets the best grades too and comes from a wealthy background that makes you think he must be God’s favorite. Especially when you get a glimpse of his sculpted body when he pulls his shirt over his head one afternoon. It’s a delicious sight and you’re brought back down to earth at the sound of your teammates squealing over him. Just what can’t he do? And what doesn’t he have? You’re sure every guy wants to be him, and every girl wants to be with him.
⭒ Gojo approaches you with the few minutes of spare time before warm up officially takes place, offering you some assistance if you need help with your stretches—it’s good for your flexibility and he highlights the importance of the proper techniques to prevent injury or so he says. You know his game, he must view you as this shiny new toy and that’s why he’s interested but who says you can’t have a little fun too? So you accept his kind offer, and a smirk tugs at his lips as he helps you relieve your sore limbs from practice the day before and running your routine again and again.
⭒ This position seems dangerous, with you lying on your back and one leg extended on the ground while he moves the other toward your chest with your knee straightened. You didn’t expect him to use his body to reach those tight muscles in your hamstrings when he placed your ankle just at his shoulder and he pressed his body forward to stretch you nice and good. You’re insanely flexible as he was able to close the distance between you two with just a few inches apart, and it makes his head spin when he’s close to you like this. The soft moan that leaves your lips makes the blood rush from his brain to somewhere lower and he has to restrain himself from doing something inappropriate. He wants to hear more of you and be the reason for those pretty sounds.
⭒ Of course, this caught the attention of majority of your teammates and some of the football players. It’s an enviable situation you both have found yourselves in, but you truly don’t have any real expectations from him other than that he mostly wants you for your body. Perhaps you could say the same thing about him, in the event that you and Gojo have a fling of sorts—you’d know to keep some emotional distance from him just to save yourself from any real attachment and heartbreak. You’re not so naive to get your hopes up and believe he’ll change his ways just for you, but maybe you do want to make the most out of your highschool experience.
⭒ Though, he does have a certain charm that you’re not exactly immune to and his sweet way with words that you’ve seen so many girls fall for. So when he gets straight to the point that he wants to take you out to dinner this Friday, you suppose you want to mess with him a little. “I’ve got my eyes set on someone else,” you tell him and he follows your line of sight until he sees where you’re looking. He feels his stomach drop as he realizes you’re interested in his best friend. “Geto? You’re interested in Geto?” You glance back at Gojo and leave him with a sweet smile and your thanks for the stretches, and he can’t ignore the pang of jealousy in his chest.
⭒ There are plenty of girls falling at his feet, but only you occupy his mind since he had first laid eyes on you. He experienced rejection maybe once or twice before and was able to move onto the next with no hard feelings, but something about you still intrigues him. Like he genuinely wants to know what goes on in that pretty head of yours, what warms and touches your heart, what makes your soul feel nourished and fulfilled. He wants to be with you, even outside of anything sexual because you are someone special and he can feel it.
⭒ He likes calling you by the nickname Angel, and it does make your heart flutter when it’s paired with that cute grin of his. You always greet him back with that bright smile of yours, and he normally wouldn’t be this fixated on a single person for weeks that slowly stretch into months but you have that kind of effect on him. Maybe you have him wrapped around your finger and he doesn’t even know it yet. But what Gojo knows is that he craves being around you (and getting into your personal space), learning every small detail and habit about you through observation, and keeping an open ear to your off-hand stories about your life or daily events. He looks forward to seeing you every single day more than he cares to admit.
⭒ He never stops his advances, trying to get you to give him a chance and he went to great lengths just for you to look his way. He doesn’t know what finally did it, but you suddenly agree to reserve a Friday night just for him when he chats you up after practice. He almost couldn’t believe his ears at first, his brain short-circuits for a split second when he’d normally be so smug about securing a date with anyone else. But you aren’t just another girl to him, he can tell that much. His expression quickly changes into a wide grin, “I’ll pick you up at seven, take you somewhere nice. How's that sound, angel?”
⭒ He arrives at your place promptly at the appointed time and parks his nice car in the driveway. He steps out with a bouquet of roses, taking a deep breath as he straightens himself before walking to your doorstep to ring the bell—never once in his life has he felt jitters like this. Except maybe before a big game, but still you manage to make the palms of his hand sweat in his anticipation for you to answer the door. And when you do, you knock the air right out of his lungs with your hair and makeup and dress that hugs your curves in all the right places. “Wow, you look… beautiful.” He says, holding up the flowers to you with a lovesick smile. When you tell him that he looks handsome too with the use of his surname—he sweetly requests that you call him Satoru.
⭒ Gojo’s inexperienced when it comes to relationships, and he warns you about that and understands that it won’t be easy to win your trust and heart given his reputation. But he promises that you’re the only girl that has made him feel this way, and he’s trying to make this work because he’s serious about you and wants something real as long as you’ll have him. You want to believe him yet a small part of you doubts his words. You’re still going to give him a chance to prove that small voice in your head wrong, but you won’t be so quick to fall for him. Because even if it doesn’t work out between you two, at least you gave him the benefit of the doubt.
⭒ He can’t promise that he’ll be perfect or that he won’t mess up. And that much is true when he takes you to a regular date spot that he had brought a couple of girlfriends to previously. That explains why he recommends the lobster pasta to you which led you to ask if he’s been here with someone before. He notices your disappointment and how you shrug it off by saying you’re just grateful he’s taking you out on a date. His hand rests over yours on the table and he apologizes for hurting your feelings. He did want to make you feel special and important, not like just another girl he’s taking to this restaurant. He feels like a complete idiot for not realizing his mistake, and it won’t happen again in the future.
⭒ Gojo can clearly see now that he has so much to learn if he wants to make you happy. And he can almost feel like you're having second thoughts about him—but he does care about you, and more than anything he wants you to believe that he does. He’s not looking for a quick fix, and he hates how he made you feel like you’re a temporary distraction to him. But he supposes that old habits die hard. When he walks you to your doorstep, he promises you again and crosses his heart that he’s in it for the long haul and he’ll show you how much you mean to him and make you forget all about those doubts and fears.
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꒰ note ᰔ some more thoughts is that he gets irrationally jealous when you tell him you’ve already had your first kiss and he follows your rule to keep his hands to himself until the fourth date. thank you for reading if you reached the end -blows you a kiss- ꒱
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luveline · 8 months
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Ahh I’m so obsessed with stripper!reader and Spencer!! Do you have any more thoughts about them you’d be willing to share, maybe just a snippet of their life together? So so in love with them and your writing in general
i got a different request for them that I lost about reader struggling to afford essentials and so I thought I’d combine them, I hope that’s ok!! <;3 fem, 1.1k
cw food insecurity/ poverty 
You attempt to save money, but the ten dollars you don't spend on shampoo and conditioner gets used on painkillers. You hide fifty dollars in a book and try to forget about it, but your shoes split open on the walk to work, and it takes all afternoon to find it again. You try so hard to stretch your paycheck and something new makes it impossible. 
So it's a cold night in late December and you spent all your money for food on the gas bill. Your stomach hurts, but at least your nose isn't that horrible stiff cold that distracts. 
It's not just that your stomach hurts, though. You feel miserable about everything, and you know you need to ask someone for help. You've thought about selling something, but you already pawned your watch, and everything else is inconsequential. 
I could sell my phone… but how would I talk to Spencer? 
It's the stupidest thought you could've had. More importantly, how would you communicate with work? How would you call your electric and gas company, or talk to your landlord? 
Spencer would be so sad if he knew you’d sold your phone to pay for food. He’d probably be upset knowing you considered it. And you won’t get paid for another three days, so unless you can somehow live off of olives and cherries from the club bar, you have to ask Spencer for money or get a loan. With your credit score, one situation is more likely than the other. 
You bring your phone across the pillow and sigh before clicking on his contact. He’s practically the only number you call. 
“Hello?” you ask. 
“Hi, Y/N.” 
“Hello, handsome,” you murmur, staging an affect of someone who couldn’t be more unbothered by the world. 
“Yeah, hi. You okay?” 
You don’t want to butter him up. It feels dishonest. You should be straight forward. “Spencer. You know I hate asking you for things.” 
“Yes, it’s the only bad thing about you.” He sounds like he’s smiling. You can imagine him on his couch reading something obscure, or watching one of his sci-fi shows, curls in his eyes, grey pyjamas too short for him riding up his calves as they tend to do.
“But I need– um. I don’t have any money?” You don’t mean to phrase it like a question. “Like. Okay, so, I promise you I am not an irresponsible person, just, my gas bill went up and I didn’t know, but it’s so cold I paid it anyways, and now I have three dollars. Um. Total. And I haven’t eaten all day and I’m sorry I’m asking, but I just need like twenty dollars until I get paid on Tuesday. Could you let me borrow twenty dollars, please?” 
“Do you want to get takeout?” 
You cringe. “No, like, twenty dollars for groceries, Spence.” 
“No, I understood. That’s fine, I’ll happily give you twenty dollars. But you said you haven’t eaten today? And I miss you, so it’s an excuse?” Now he’s the one making questions out of statements. “I can get us Thai food.” 
Your stomach pangs at the thought. No matter how much you hate this, you know he loves you enough to want to bring you dinner, and you really will pay him back, so he might as well. “Yeah, please. I’d love to see you, Dr. Reid.”
“I’ll be quick,” he promises. 
He isn’t. You wonder if he’s forgotten you and your rumbling stomach, curled into a c-shape under the sheets. It’s warm, at least, nearly too warm, the blade of your hunger threatening to drive you mad. It’s not a nice feeling, depending on the kindness of a friend to see you through, nor is it very pleasant to be this hungry. You’ve gone hungry a hundred times, and this is the only time you’ve ever had someone you trusted enough to turn to during that time to ask for help. What if Spencer’s decided he isn’t comfortable with your lending after all and he doesn’t come over tonight? 
You’d been looking forward to seeing him again. It’s almost worse than the hunger. 
Just as you’re thinking he’s decided he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore, he lets himself in. 
Your apartment is small, consisting of three rooms. The bedroom, the bathroom, and the living room kitchen combination. He lets himself into the living room with a cacophony of rustling and a called, “Hello!” followed soon by a muttered swear. 
You laugh under your breath.
“Are you coming out here, or do you want to eat dinner in bed?” he asks. 
“I haven’t decided yet.” 
It’s quiet enough besides his arrival that you’ve no need to shout.
“Well, stay there if you want. Have you been drinking anything? I brought iced tea and some stuff for you to have breakfast tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” You force yourself to sit up. One moment you’re looking at the closed door and the next you’re squinting against the light of the kitchen, Spencer in the doorway like a silhouette against it. “Hey, Spence. You’re taller than last time.” 
“I’m the same size as always.”
“You’re still wearing your shoes. That must be it.” 
Spencer takes off his shoes and crosses the short distance to you. “Hi,” he says, taking your hand as he sits down. His fingers are freezing. “Sorry I took a while.”
“Sorry for asking you for money.” 
“It’s okay. It’s not something to worry about. Everyone has to ask a favour sometime.” 
His hair is wind blown, his eyes watery. The cold weather has nipped his pert nose a rosy pink and he’s smiling at you with chapped lips, unaware of or uncaring about his own circumstances in the face of yours. “You okay?” he asks, his pretty brown eyes narrowing, eyebrows pinching together at the starts. “You can’t just not eat all day and not tell me.”
You nod tightly. It’s humiliating to be in this position. 
He softens. “Did they tell you the rate was rising? It’s illegal in Virginia–”
You take your hand from his. “They sent me a letter I didn’t open. I knew it would be bad news.” 
Spencer looks down at your knees. “I know that you’re used to doing things by yourself, but you don’t have to anymore.”
“‘Cos you look after me,” you say quietly. 
“I’m trying to.” 
You laugh and jog your joined hands to make him look up. “Okay. Look after me some more then and give me a hug. I’m too warm, and you’re freezing.” 
He hugs you tightly, quick to rub your shoulder blade with his thumb. “Stay here, okay? I’ll bring you a plate.” 
You cling to him for a few seconds, until hunger wins, and you send him off into the kitchen again. 
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rememberwren · 3 months
Text
A Dichotomy of Thought || 6
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts
Johnny and Simon argue.
CW: mentions of dub con/non con; domestic abuse; ableist slurs
-
Just when you settle in at your job he starts showing up at the diner to terrorize you, like an illness you cannot shake or a cloud you cannot outrun. Maybe he knows that that’s where you’re hiding your phone.
Maybe he knows that you have almost two thousand dollars stashed in your locker in the break room.
Either way, there is no rhyme or reason to his visits. He sets a pattern (once a week) and then breaks it, coming two days in a row, and then doesn’t visit for a whole month, until you are constantly off balance, always dreading the sound of the bell over the door.
Today when he comes, he seats himself at the bar where you are required to talk to him. He watches you work, delighting in the way your hands shake while you pour his coffee. You’ve never met someone who feeds off of fear like this, who gorges themselves on your flinches and trembling.
You think about shattering the coffee pot and taking one of the shards to his throat. You long to slit open his bloated belly and steal back all the feeling he has stolen from you. But you are useless, neutered by the fear that still remains, the fear yet to be eaten. One day…
“This one’s new,” he says, nodding to the new girl: young, with hair in a glossy, gleaming braid over her shoulder.
You tell him her name. How long she’s been working there now. That she’s nice. He hums, filing all the knowledge away in his head and dubbing it all useless by remarking, “Pretty.”
Your hand clenches into a tight fist around the rag you are using to wash down the bar. You don’t know why that bothers you. He hasn’t called you pretty since the early days when he was still trying to win you out from under your family’s thumb—like you wouldn’t have gone anywhere with anyone to be free of them, at the time (You’d had no idea that there were worse creatures out there than the ones who raised you). Maybe there’s some sick part of you that still wants to be wanted by him, that still wants to be pretty.
“Where’s Jackie?” he asks. Then, just to make your head spin: “You’ve been texting her more lately.”
Your skin flushes hot and then cold. You want to ask how he knows that, how he knows at all about the contact in your phone you named JACKIE when you keep your phone in your storage locker at work at all times, charging it in the breakroom, never to bring it home.
You hadn’t been stupid enough to save Simon’s number under his own name. No, God might not have given you enough sense to fill a teacup, but He gave you enough to fill a thimble. You just had to hope that would be enough. You had to hope that you could pull Jackie aside the next time you were both working together and that she would be willing to cover for you, should your boyfriend ask her about your ‘texts’. You hated bringing anyone else into the network of your own lies, but wrote it off as a necessary pain.
“It’s her day off,” you tell him.
He hums, doubtful.
The bell over the door rings.
Johnny looks thin and tired, arm crutch in place as Simon holds the door open for him. He’s dressed for the warm weather in a t-shirt and shorts which show the surgical scars at his knee, vivid purple lines in the fluorescent lights of the diner.
Simon spots you first, and a peculiar look comes over his face, one that you hope your boyfriend doesn’t see because you would have no way to explain it. You wouldn’t call it fondness, but it’s one of recognition certainly, a deeper understanding than you can just pass off as having run into each other a few times in the building.
Johnny sees you next and his face brightens. The strangest thought comes to you: I have made a friend. Then his eyes naturally flicker to your boyfriend, and his entire demeanor transforms—into one of such strange, dark, poignant delight, as if he and your boyfriend are old pals who have run into each other after years apart.
It makes your stomach turn over, and you don’t know why.
You’ve been silent too long. Your boyfriend has noticed, his head turning to take in the new patrons. He asks, voice mild and amused: “You know them?”
“They’re our neighbors. 5C.”
He sits up straighter. “No shit? That’s the cripple you almost killed?”
“He’s not a cripple,” you mutter.
“Sure looks like one from here.” Your boyfriend gives a little salute in greeting.
Johnny makes a beeline for the bar, crutch thudding rhythmically against the tiled floor with every purposeful step. He sits in the seat beside your boyfriend, removing his arm crutch and shifting it to rest on his other side against the edge of the bar. Simon reaches out and adjusts it to keep it from sliding over.
Simon slips into the seat beside him, quiet and solemn, looking like a man braced for bad news.
“Hey there, neighbor. Sorry about all that mess in the parking lot the other day,” your boyfriend says. He jerks a thumb toward you. “She never should have been behind the wheel if we’re being honest.”
“Then why the hell was she?” Johnny wonders, accent thicker than usual, rough. His tone is mild, but the grin pinned on his face is like a wolf’s: hungry for blood. Dangerous. It is so at odds with his happy demeanor that it makes goosebumps rise on your arms. For the first time since you’ve met him, Johnny frightens you.
Your boyfriend is no idiot. He senses the thinly veiled malevolence beneath Johnny’s words but doesn’t understand it (and neither do you). Maybe Johnny really is still upset about almost getting squished like a bug beneath your car, but in that case, his anger at your boyfriend is misplaced. You turn away, grabbing two empty mugs, shoulders tensing. Waiting for all that anger to find somewhere to go.
Your boyfriend shifts on his seat, sighing through his nose a little. He doesn’t like to admit this. “I had some trouble a while back. Got my license revoked.”
Johnny coos, condescending and mean: “Bad luck.”
“Johnny,” Simon says, voice flat with a warning. You place the mugs down in front of him and Johnny, your hands shaking. Reaching for the coffee pot, you fill both their cups to the hallway mark, leaving room for sugar and cream. Some sloshes over the edge of Johnny’s cup.
“Stupid. Stupid,” you mutter, reaching for your rag to wipe it away. The three of them pay you no mind.
“We should have you over. I get a couple of close friends together on Saturdays and we play poker. You’re welcome to join us,” your boyfriend says, looking at you from the corner of his eye.
You blanch, rag dropping uselessly to the counter from your lax hand. The idea of Johnny and Simon being in your personal space, in the place where Bad Things Happen is a nightmare. Though you know they wouldn’t, (good people. They are good people), the thought of them taking place in Saturday poker rituals makes you feel sick. Fresh in your mind is your dream from the other night when you had ridden Simon until your boyfriend passed you on to someone new, and the thought of it becoming a reality is—it’s too much.
You leave your body.
“What do you think, baby?” he asks you, smiling. “Would you like to have them over? Would that be fun?”
“Yes,” your mouth answers numbly, because it has to.
“Then it’s settled. First deal is at noon and we play through the evening.”
“We’ll fucking be there,” Johnny says, words sounding adjacent to a threat.
Your boyfriend doesn’t stay long after that. Perhaps a part of him feels threatened by the presence of Simon, or perhaps he’s grown bored with tormenting you, but eventually he places money (your money. It’s your money. It’s your fucking money—) on the bar top and leaves, the bell ringing at his exit.
Johnny turns his blue eyes onto you. The wolf-like quality that had frightened you so much has fled, receded back into the man, no longer needed. But you know it is there. It’s in every man.
His voice is remarkably gentle when he asks you: “Lass, are you alright?”
“Yes,” your mouth says.
“You’re crying,” says Simon simply, reaching for a napkin to hand you. Your hand reaches for it numbly and uses it to pat at your face.
“It’s just something in my eye.” Your hands stuff the napkin in your apron and pull out your pad and pen, hand poised to write, eyes empty and unseeing. “What can I get for you?”
-
“He’s beatin’ her,'' Johnny says mildly. He waits until they are inside Simon’s car, stuck in traffic on the way back to the apartment. The heat is stifling, the AC not yet working after the time the car spent baking in the sunlight of the diner’s parking lot.
Simon reaches out and adjusts the knobs, turning them more toward himself. Johnny doesn’t like the cold much anymore, making Simon dread the thought of winter coming to the city, of snow. He can’t imagine what it will be like to be Johnny then, surrounded by ice all over again. Clearing his throat, he says: “I know.”
Johnny’s head snaps over to look at Simon, and the expression on his face is one akin to absolute betrayal. It’s the deepest of hurts, like Simon has reached out across the center console and slapped him. Johnny’s never given him that look in his entire life, and Simon could have gone the rest of his life without seeing it.
“You know. You know. And just what have you done to help her?”
“Help her?” Simon asks, bracing one elbow against the driver’s side door and massaging at his temples where a headache has been growing for the last two days. “How the hell do you want me to do that?”
“I can think of a few ways,” Johnny says darkly. “A few accidents that could happen to that cunt next door—”
“No,” Simon snaps. “Don’t even think about it, Johnny. Not only are you in no condition, but it’s fucking illegal.”
“So was half the shite we did in the name of Queen and Country,” Johnny hisses.
“We were following orders,” Simon says, hackles rising. “There’s a difference.”
“The difference is that now you’d have to use your own mind instead of letting someone else do the thinking fer you,” Johnny says, anger making him cruel.
Simon grits his teeth together. The car inches forward in traffic, and it takes all of his self control not to slam on the gas and rear end the car in front of him just to end this fucking conversation with Johnny.
He takes a deep breath through his nose, aiming for calm. He tries more sense, even if it feels like pushing a boulder uphill: “We have no resources to help her, and no idea that she even wants help.”
“Of course she wants help!” Johnny cries. “Why the fuck wouldn’t she?”
“Lots of reasons,” Simon says, thinking of his mother. What had been her reason for staying with his father for so long, for always being willing to open the door to him when he came knocking? Children. Money. Her religion. “You’re thinking of it in black and white but it isn’t. Nothing is.”
“Some things are. Some things are just wrong.” And then, voice laden with disappointment: “Yer a coward, Simon Riley.”
Simon feels these words in his chest, like Johnny has shaped them into a knife and jammed them between his ribs. Simon stares at the license plate in front of them until the numbers and letters blur together, until his eyes burn. His jaw aches from biting back so many hurtful things that he knows he could say, that he wants to say, just to hurt Johnny the way Johnny has hurt him.
But that’s just the imprint of his father on him, like a smudged thumbprint on the glass of his DNA. He’s a better man than that.
He knows it, even if Johnny doesn’t anymore.
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