#it’s just so obvious that half the time he forgets that he’s supposed to hate and mistrust him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haet-sal · 1 year

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Tatsächlich Liebe (Love, Actually)//jun x fem!reader (smut included)

Tags: cute single dad!boss!jun with a crush, mini-wen involved, office romance, shower sex, public sex, sort of cheating bc you have a sort-of-boyfriend, pining i suppose?, jun with a crush, went a little ANGSTY, Bestie!minghao

You’re the wide-eyed, clueless-but-on-top secretary to Wen Junhui, and it all starts, with one new year’s kiss… well, new year’s fuck.

Mr. Wen likes you. It should have been obvious, whenever he seemed to forgive your inadequate work ethics and frequent unfailing mishaps, and how much he trusted you, no matter how many mistakes you made, how much he hated hearing about your life with your boyfriend… and what kind of boss goes shopping for their employee, privately, anyway?

Warnings: y/n is incredibly seductive and more dominant and a bit of a fuckgirl, anxious Jun, cheating, Guanhang from nct is here as your very mean and distant bf

W.c.: 11k

~~~~~

You might not be very good at your job. And you realize this when you spill Jun’s coffee for the fifth time since you started working (6 months now). That was 0.8 coffees per month.

Times 2, and 3: You forgot to cap the coffee all the way right, after opening it because you FORGOT to ask for the sugar and you had to open it, put a packetful in, stir and cap it again, and Jun spills it on his shirt on his first attempt to drink it. Your penalty: Jun offers a tight lipped smile and caps it himself. “That’ll be all, thanks, Y/n.”

Time 1: you didn’t lay the cup right on his desk. It only spilled maybe 4 drops. Yay. That’s a win, in the book of Y/n. Penalty: nothing.

Time 4, the worst of them all: YOU SPILLED IT ON THE DOCUMENTS HE HAD ON HIS DESK. You don’t even know how, but the full fucking cup spilled. Penalty: “I got it, thanks,” Jun said (thanks for what? He lost documents and three quarters of his coffee) “could you print these again?”

Time 5: this time the coffee didn’t even make it onto his desk, you trip and spill it on yourself. To be fair, you were carrying the lunch orders of the others in your office, so it was a precarious situation.

“I’ll go get a new one!” you called out, since Jun was watching from behind the foggy, half translucent glass door of his office, where he could definitely see you from the way he was angled, but you only saw a part of his dark oakwood table.

There would be a line at the cafe, it was lunch time. But you were determined to make yourself important and cut in line, no matter what it took. “I WORK FOR THE BOSS” would be one thing you could say.

As you head back for the elevator, Jun’s head peeks out of the aforementioned glass door. “y/n,” he called—you like that he never called you like he was demanding your presence, like a rude guest you were waiting on, but rather… softly. Jun just had a softness to him. “Hey, actually, forget the coffee, if it’s not here—can you go get one of those donuts with sprinkles on it?”

“Pink,” came a very boyish little voice from behind the door.

“Pink, with sprinkles, like Homer Simpson eats.”

You walk back to the office, and open it wider, so the little boy could finally appear to you. “Hey, mini-Mr. Wen. Would you like to walk there with me, so you can pick what you’d like?” Jun was very paranoid, but also a very at-ease parent. Meaning: he did let his son go places without him, with other guardians, but also had a terrible anxiety that left him imagining all the worst scenarios until the boy was back in front of his eyes. And yet, you still asked, because you knew Jun was busy. He couldn’t be watching the kid right now.

Hao—that was his name, ‘inspired’ by his father’s love for his best friend, although Jun would say he lost a bet and that’s all it was—nodded, but he wasn’t walking on his feet: he immediately extended both arms out for you to carry him. “Alright, buddy! Let’s go!”

Jun managed a half-absentminded, half-grateful smile at you, mouthing his thanks. And then the door closed.

“Donuts,” Hao says quietly.

“Yes, donuts! We’re getting donuts, getting donuts…” you sang as you walked towards the elevator.

Today Jun’s aforementioned best friend and trades partner was in the office with him, because he wanted to come see his little namesake. As Minghao talked business and life with Jun, he saw how relaxed Jun usually was, rather than be the ball of anxiety he turned into whenever his son was somewhere in public not holding onto his own hand.

“You actually trust that intern,” Minghao drew his conclusions.

“She’s permanently employed!” Jun says with a smile. “Do you want me to text her and tell her to bring you a coffee?”

“Where’s yours?”

“She…” There was no way to sugarcoat this in a way that Minghao would feel sympathetic towards you. “Kinda spilled it.”

“... You permanently employed a secretary who couldn’t even bring you coffee.” Seeing Jun’s shocked eyes (how dare you bring that up, Minghao! He was probably thinking), Minghao continued: “didn’t she cause that delay with that shipping company because of her other-and-frequent mishaps, and you had to ask them to deliver the papers all over again? Why would you keep her after that?”

“I don’t know,” Jun says, pondering on his systems himself, “I’ve been through a lot of short-term interns, but I just employed her permanently because, I don’t know, it’s actually became a chore sifting through new secretaries, and she just feels right.”

Minghao cocked an eyebrow. Pushed his glasses up to his forehead. “Feels… right…” Jun did not return any ripostes to the accusations Minghao’s raised eyebrows were throwing. “But I’ve never seen you trust anybody with little Hao this much.”

“Y/n’s a natural around Hao,” Jun’s praise of you came lightly, and he broke into a smile. “Hao loves her.”

“Jun… just because she’s good with your kid doesn’t mean she’s good at her job.”

“Give her a chance!” Jun says with a nudge of his elbows. “She gets my order just right—I swear, no one gets the sugar-to-coffee ratio as right as she does.”

“Maybe because she’s the one delivering it. You know drinks taste sweeter when you like the person serving them.”

Jun groaned. “Hao…” Suddenly red in the cheeks, Jun brought his hands to cover his face, feigning that he was yawning or scratching his cheek or something. But Minghao saw through everything.

“All I’m saying is, I wonder if she really is good at her job—”

The door opened, and you and the Mini-Wen peeked through, with the little boy holding two cups of coffee. “I got your orders!” you say. “Well, Hao got them! I’ll keep watching him, if you want?”

“But I wanna sit on papa’s chair–!”

You grabbed the little boy gently. “Papa’s in a serious talk with uncle Hao, do you think we can hang out at my desk? I have games!”

Minghao shot a look at Jun, as the two of you walked back out of the office. He reached for the cup of coffee with ‘Xu’ written on its side, handing Jun the other. “Anyway,” he says, “back to our ‘serious discussion—” He took a sip of his drink, and suddenly looked completely apprehensive, like he wanted to spit it out.

But under the light of Jun’s alarmed gaze, Minghao slowly swallowed it, and then placed it back on the desk. “This is… this is not my order.”

“She just can’t tell between everybody’s orders,” Jun offered. “She’s still learning!”

Minghao took another sip. “I think this is oatmilk… I can sort of get behind it.”

Today was Christmas, which was why Hao was at the office: he was going to be picked up by his mom to go to her parents’ house, where he would spend the holidays. Jun and the mom never really interacted, or so says everyone at the office–you had never met her. Jun preferred that the handing away of the kid be done through third parties, from babysitters who would text as soon as she had come to take him away, through secretaries, or even through the office receptionist. Whatever it took to not see her.

You’re not good at your job. You’re clumsy, distracted, inadequate, and most of the time you gossiped away, or at least listened to all the gossip instead of concentrating on your job. What you’ve heard about the matrimony of Jun and his ex was: there wasn’t even a wedding. They got pregnant, they became engaged, apparently the wife got cold feet before the wedding and just decided she didn’t want to be a mother and a wife forever. She asked that one of her flings take her away to somewhere exclusive before the ceremony—someone says it was to the swiss alps, someone says they holed up at an air bnb just out of town—and never even showed up for the wedding planning and the ceremony had to be canceled.

As the story goes… her family had been glad, thinking Jun wasn’t the right person to get settled with. Back then he was handling the up-and-coming company, but they didn’t have faith in his line of work—they did, however, want their little grandson, and the custody battle turned ugly, which added to why Jun didn’t want to see his ex or hear anything about them. Ultimately he got full custody, as the mother didn’t even really want Hao.

Whenever you saw the almost-Mrs. Wen, she was incredibly cool, hiding behind oversized sunglasses. You’d have an actual sense of respect for her, if only her mere presence didn’t make her own son’s face fall like someone had taken his sweets from him.

But today she had her hair in bunches, and she impatiently took the little boy into her arms, and thanked you. “Tell your boss pick-up time’s 5 p.m. on the thirty-first,” she told you. “Or sooner, that’s fine too.”

As she walked away, you were in awe of how much she seemed like Jun’s type: sexy, but cute, and cool. She knew how to dress, for sure. You wrote down the pick-up time: 6 p.m., did she say? And tried to go back to work. You should clear his schedule on New Year’s Eve, but in the office it was still a work day, although the general consensus had decided to have a party in the office, going til midnight. You didn’t know if Jun wanted to stay, since usually he spent holidays with his son.

You see someone in flashy colors sashaying towards your desk, and erect your head, expectant.

“Heyyyyy!” It’s Arin, from the reception. “Guess what?” she says, bringing out the box she was hiding behind her back. “Look! You have a good boss.”

As you took the present and the card—where it was simply written ‘Merry Christmas, Y/n’ and nothing more, thank God because if you knew just how many drafts Jun went through—you leaned over the desk and into Jun’s office, where you saw a blur of his silhouette.

You unwrapped it messily, with as much expertise as you always have on the job, and out comes three bottles of perfume. You press the communications button to Junhui’s office. “I got the presents!”

“That’s great, you’re welcome.”

“Thank you, Jun!”

Minghao, in Jun’s office, watched as Jun got flustered, blinking the shock away. “You… you never call me that,” is what you hear over the speaker.

“Damn. When did he shop for these?” You press the button again. “When did you shop for these, Mr. Wen?! I’m meant to be doing your shopping!”

“Uh, just back in November!” The red light of the device wasn’t alight anymore, which meant the conversation was over. (Jun turned to Minghao in the office. “I may have done this in September, and also had a whole personal-shopper ensemble help me.”)

“So,” Arin says, sitting on your desk now, “you got your boss giving you gifts! What about that boyfriend of yours?”

“Guanhang?” Your expression turned a little sour. “He’s got a big family, so we went shopping for like, the six of them back in November, but he never got one for me? I figured he didn’t want to buy anything for me in front of me, but—oh, bye, Mr. Xu—” Jun and Minghao had come out of the office, as Jun parted from his best friend— “but I never woke up to presents. I mean, it’s only Christmas. I guess I can wait until he remembers?”

Arin grimaced. “Uh-uh. Today’s the deadline.”

“On Valentine’s day he just ate me out each night for the entire month and said that was his present,” you say quietly.

Arin laughed. She made a joke about cunnilingus or something or the other, which brings you to howl with laughter.

“I mean, it is a good gift, if only he didn’t pick the shortest month of the year to do it!” You’re about to go on about more of Guanhang’s antics when—

Jun’s shadow loomed over Arin’s figure, and sensing his presence, she moved over.

“Get back to work, please,” he told her. “Especially you, Y/n, your… work…” he fumbled over his words, before settling with: “is inadequate. And careless. And messy. I… expect better.”

You pouted up at him. Jun looked away before it could affect him more than he liked. “Back to work, please,” he repeated, “And Arin, your job is at the desk, which is like, thirty feet away.” The glass door to his office half-slams, particularly loudly that it sounded like it would shatter.

“Must be in a bad mood,” Arin adjudged. With a sigh, she just left the remaining files and letters designated towards you and Jun at your desk. “Text me about the boyfriend things, alright?”

Feeling sort of shamed (you sucked at your job and you didn’t like being reminded of it), you silently go through the files, not even unpacking Jun’s perfumes out of their boxes. When Jun asks of Hao later, you just tell him he’ll be home on New Year’s Eve, omitting the part where he has to be picked up.

“Mei.” Jun pretended to multitask, going over his documents while on the phone, but in truth he was getting nothing done. What a shitty day to come into work. “Mei, please. Don’t do this to me. Please bring him back home, at least.”

“Jun, I’m not going to drive to your apartment, there’s traffic and I have an appointment with someone! I literally told your assistant the pick-up time—Pick. Up. I never said I’d bring him. Didn’t she tell you?” Jun felt like kicking himself, he looked out the blinds into the street, and yes, absolutely there is traffic. They’re closing up roads for the city’s new year’s party, fireworks inclusive. “How useless is that secretary?”

“Of course she told me!" He snaps defensively. "I’m just busy all of a sudden. Can’t your parents drive him?”

“Papa just had cornea surgery, Jun. Mama has to be with him at all times.”

Jun hits himself. “Fine, fine, can you leave Hao with your parents, then? Just go to your party—we’ll pick him up at home.”

“It’s not a party, it’s an appointment.” But Jun heard heels clinking, sighs, yelling to her parents, a car door opening. “Fine. I’ll hear from you on Easter or something, then.”

Jun immediately pressed the button to call your desk in, before the call even ended. Soon enough, you’re walking in, taller than he remembers you, but he distracts himself from looking at you (it wasn’t healthy for him to look at you, he gets heartburn). “Could you pick my son up?” he asked. “Take my car. After that I swear you can take the day off, just come back to bring my keys b—”

His eyes finally land on you, and there’s silver sequins peeking out from under the blazer. He leans over the table, trying to look at your footwear: heels that made you taller than Mingyu from sales. “Um… is that for the party?”

“I’m going clubbing!” you answered. “With my boyfriend.”

Jun looked away from you. The sequinned dress was low-necked, distractingly so. “Alright, well… Hao’s usual sitter will be home, so you can just ring the bell.”

“I know the code to your door, anyway,” you say. “See ya, Mr. Wen!”

The New Year’s party was starting, with the attending employees taking advantage of every resource in the office: speakers blaring music, the main lights dimmed and LED lights strewn across the walls so carelessly it looked like they were there by accident; everything was a total mess. There wasn’t a reason to stay there anymore if he wasn’t celebrating, but Jun couldn’t leave: he needed his car.

It’s almost ten when you come back, and as much as it was long-awaited, it even felt unreal that you’d come back.

“Y/n!” He didn’t realize how his anxiety had crept up on him, even when concerning you—he knew Hao was safe home, but you were his main concern. Sort of weird, that it’d be that way. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“Bad news,” you say as you come into his office, basically screaming over the music, “I barely escaped when I came, but they’re blocking every street around here for the parade.”

Jun stood over his tiptoes to see the state of the roads: the parades were already setting in, and the roads were blocked everywhere. The only other option would be to wait it out, until it’s past midnight and everyone is back home in their beds.

He sighed. “I think I’ll have to stay until the end of the party.” He pulled out his phone, urgently texting the babysitter.

But Jun immediately turned into his usual anxious character, not being able to get home at his son’s bedtime. He paced around the party, sometimes paying attention to the music, although it was just grating for him at some point, and, not wanting to return home drunk, refused all booze and decided to chaperone the party.

He finds you at the hard liquor corner, during his many rounds around the office. You’re leaned back and sipping out of a full bottle. Jun hasn’t drunk in a while, because hangovers and being drunk in general made him unable to parent. He knows moderation looks different to everybody, but you weren’t it.

“... all I said was he spends a comically high amount of time with that girl from work! And he’s like, you’re always tailing after Jun, and I’m like, yeah, that’s my job? And then he says, I'm not his girlfriend, I just live with him, he can do whatever he wants.”

You take another mouthful out of the straight bottle. “What’d you say?” Arin edges you on.

“Told him that’s rich coming from the guy that was balls deep in my—”

Jun cringes with scrunched and avoidant eyes, as he comes over to take the bottle away from you. Setting it down on a desk behind him, he notices that the people around had started to clear out, not wanting a chaperoning boss to ruin the fun. They rushed to the windows and the balcony.

“I thought you were going clubbing on your night off?” he asks you, standing two feet planted in front of you. You were holding yourself really horribly, and ended up resting your head on his stomach without a thought in your head. If you had thought it through, maybe you wouldn't have done it.

“Fight,” you explained. “With the guy I live with.”

“I see…” Jun tenderly combed his fingers through your hair, but only used it to pull your head off his stomach. “Well, I guess office party’s just as fun, huh?”

You snorted as a reply.

“Last sixty seconds, guys!” someone yells. They’d opened the windows so the sounds of the parade in the street were full-blown blaring distantly, and you were about forty stories up in the air, the night breeze blowing with a vengeful cold.

You’re tired, your feet hurt and you just wanted to collapse into your bed. Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you fall face-flat into his stomach, again. Your arms wrapped around him, as if you were imagining him as a body pillow.

You feel Jun still, and you almost think he’s just uncomfortable being so close to you, but then you… realize something.

You’re suddenly more awake than you were five seconds ago. You stand up, and there’s commotion—everyone’s crowding around the window, yelling the countdown as loud as their voices went. You look into Jun’s eyes. Sober, clean, worried.

“Do you think we can kiss, Mr. Wen?” you asked.

Jun stilled. Palms sweating, there was a moment where he swore his heart stopped, before he remembered how to breathe and regain all brain-control functions again. It might be what people call ‘skipping a beat’ meets ‘brain freeze’. “What?” he basically mumbled, unable to talk very loud, but you heard.

“We’re the only ones with no date,” you told him. “Everyone’s partnered up.” It was true, even people without dates had struck up deals for a new year’s kiss.

“It–it’s just not a good idea,” Jun stuttered.

“It’s a kiss for luck!” Every step you took towards him, Jun stepped back from you until his back hit a desk. Pouting, you add: “I want to have lots of luck next year.”

You must have had a lot of those schnapps and shots from the reception, Jun concludes, but too late: right after he takes the steps backwards, you had pulled him towards you by his tie. Hungry eyes, if he’d ever seen any. “Y/n,” he breathed out against your lips, which came close to him with every passing second, “we can’t.” You pull him in even closer, controlling him by the tie.

You do whatever the fuck you want when you’re drunk, Jun concludes. But it’s setting him into a full-blown panic. “Y–Y/n.”

The countdown starts, and you’re right—everyone’s gathered at the high-rise windows, looking at the parade under the office. No one’s looking back at you, and even if they were, they wouldn’t be able to tell who you were from the mere blue silhouettes of your bodies. At best, they’d just be able to see his white shirt. His entire body shrouded you.

Three!

You’re in every single part of Jun’s senses. He can smell you wearing the perfume he gave you, he can hear the low hum of your breath in his ears, he sees you, he sees the flimsy little dress with the spaghetti straps that keep dropping down to reveal more and more, he just…

Two!

He just has to taste you.

One!

He’s the one that takes the step to meet your lips, and now you’re kissing. You taste like soft cream and feel like good sleep. His tongue darts out, and you welcome it in your mouth.

Jun let out what he thinks is a sigh, but really was more of a moan, a sound that went unsuppressably past his throat and vibrated across your tongue. He thought you looked killer, the spaghetti straps of your dress would sometimes fall just a bit that he could see so much… flesh… from the side, but he won’t think about it, he won’t even look, he won’t be that pervert, the older guy that wants what he can’t have because you’re too shiny and spectacular and just the personification of a starry night, especially in this dress—and he can’t have you! He needed to get that through his head.

You had a boyfriend, you were literally about to go clubbing with him, you were taken, so what was he doing, what was he doing?

When he’s panting post-kiss, he doesn’t know if it’s the kissing making him breathless, or if it’s all his thoughts tiring him out.

“Wanna continue this?” you whispered to him, eyelashes hooding your expression. Jun doesn’t understand why you’d want to—yes, he wants to, but why do you—?

But he nods. He’s the one that grabs your hand, and walks over to his office, and you’re following him. Every time he told himself this was it and there’s no way you’d go further, you do. What the fuck.

The office is almost unrecognizable in the dark, with only the fireworks outside to light it up. You locked the door, and he realizes it hadn’t even crossed his mind.

You push him against the window, and for a second you looked over his shoulder at all the fireworks. He watches them reflect in your eyes, and the sight of you is just haunting.

And then you’re kissing him, his hands are on you again, this time peeling the spaghetti straps off, feeling your bare shoulders, just the feeling of your skin—he hadn’t been with anyone in a long, long time, too busy with his son or work, and to finally have this–with the person he’d been pining for so long…

He almost rips the dress off you, but restrains himself. Your lips feel soft and healing against his own, and then they’re on his neck. He doesn’t even stop you to tell you you can’t leave hickeys–it doesn’t even occur to him. His nose is just buried in your hair, as you trail kisses down his chest—when did you even undo the buttons?—and, when he messes with the straps of your dress again, it just drops to the floor at your feet.

He doesn’t even have the chance to take your form in, in just your strapless bra and panties. You’re rubbing him over his pants, and he’s hard, he wants it, yes, but he’s also dead sober and he couldn’t even stay drunk on you that long.

“Wait,” Jun says, holding up his hand, perhaps to keep some distance from you. “You’re drunk, we can’t go that far.”

With a lick of your lips, you’re undoing his belt and flinging it over your shoulder. When you can’t kiss him the way you wanted, you simply pull him by the tie so he’s on top of you, pinning you down on his desk. You want to kiss, you want his hands on you again, but he’s hesitant, only coming where you pull him.

“Y/n,” he gasped. “Y/n, please—this is a lawsuit.”

You giggled. “I’ll sign an NDA, if you want.”

Jun sighed, heavily breathing. “That’s not the problem.”

But he wants you, and if you want him now, there isn't a choice but to give in. Your naked legs wrap around his waist, and he just trails his hands down them, until they reach your heel-clad feet. It’s so hot, the way he’s allowed you to entrap him.

Jun is fervently kissing down your chest, your bra pulled down, as he enters you. He’s so hard, so bothered, and wet with precum. So hot it could sizzle. You throw your head back and let out a pornographic moan, but he cups his hand over your mouth, wordlessly reminding you that you were only a wall separated from a whole party of people.

Jun hadn’t been this way with anyone in a long time. There had been dates from time to time, but never with someone he actually truly liked. Trembling, his hips stutter, so does his lips, which are moaning your name. He tries to be as quiet and composed as he could, but he feels like he might let the loudest grunt, alerting everyone outside. He bites down on his lip.

He hadn’t been doing this in a while. This makes him impossibly sensitive, and he might release, even if it’s just too soon. You sense it in the stutter of his thrusts and immediately slip off him, and he’s glad, because he knows he can’t cum inside you, but also it was embarrassing to have to tell you. You kneel in front of him, open-mouthed, and he could spasm from the mere sight, before you take him in your hands.

Jun hisses sharply. “Do you see how it’s so white, you were so wet around me—” He interrupts himself with a sharp inhale.

But you’re going slowly, as if you were inexperienced with your tongue, or just wanted to drag the torture out for him. Jun’s hand grip at the table behind him.

“Please,” he moaned. “It hurts.” When he reaches out to touch you it’s fervent, hot. You’re the only thing in the world that could ease the pain and quench the thirst. His hands wrap around your hair, although to him it’s more like you hair had come alive and entangled themselves all over his digits. Your mouth feels so—fuck!

He’s cumming down your throat. Jun whimpered as the sensation of you never truly left him, you take care of him. Until the last of it spills onto the carpet. And he’s just watching you through his eyelashes, tired and giddy. He speaks your name.

You look up for a moment, before your gaze turns towards the door. Someone else was calling your name.

“It’s Arin,” you observe carefully. “You should count to like, three minutes before you come out, maybe more. I’ll go first, okay?”

He wondered if you’ve done these things before, as you strutted outside. The lights were back on outside in the hallway, and he shrouded himself in the shadows, feeling embarrassed but not ashamed.

When he exits the office later, locking the door behind him, there’s a man at your desk, figure defined by a dark puffer coat over a pastel hoodie. “Sorry I missed the kiss,” he was saying.

“I got kissed already,” you told him, avoiding eye-contact.

Guanhang didn’t believe you one bit, especially when you couldn’t meet him in the eye. “Yeah?” he says. “Who was it?”

“Arin,” you say plainly. Guanhang laughs. He grabs your hand.

“Wanna go watch the parade? I’ll put you on my shoulders and everything.” He looked past you, and sees Jun, and offers a tight-lipped smile. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your boss?”

“I don’t see why you’d need to, you’re just some guy I live with, right?”

You grabbed your handbag and strutted towards the elevator, but later Jun hears that Guanhang did put you on his shoulder to see the rest of the parade.

The second of January and business is back, you sit down at your desk after an uncomfortable subway ride and check a day’s worth of missed emails. When Jun comes to work, finally, you offer a smile, but don’t meet him in the eyes. He wasn’t looking at you, either.

“Good morning,” he basically grunted, clearing his throat. He knew it was impersonal, but he didn’t want to say your name, because whenever he spoke your name there was an embarrassing adoration in his voice.

“I’ll get you your coffee,” you told Jun.

You’re beating yourself up while waiting for the order, and you pull out your phone. These were words you couldn’t literally say to him, but on text you felt brave, hiding behind a screen. Not having to read his expressions.

You: hi, i just wanted to tell you…

It’s immediately read, although he doesn’t reply. He's waiting for you.

You: if you can just forget everything! It would be cool

You: what happened that night, I mean

You: I can’t be doing this, I have a boyfriend

Mr. Wen: we can do that.

Mr. Wen: i’m sorry, by the way

You: don’t be.

You: I liked it

Jun tries to forget.

A few days after New Year’s was Jun’s European business trip, and you were glad you wouldn’t have to see him after all. And yet, sitting at your desk two feet away from the office where it all happened made you feel weird. As all your drunk escapades make you feel.

He’d been gone since Monday, and was due back today, to land in the evening. But as you check in with him, you find out his flight’s been delayed.

“There’s engine issues,” he told you. “I don’t know, fingers crossed I make it in time before Hao’s bedtime.”

But an hour later he called you in a panic. “Y/n, fuck—what do I—I don’t even—” When you ask him to tell you, slowly, he tries to calm down. “The babysitter! I told them my flight’s delayed, and she can’t stay all night—I don’t think my plane will land until dawn. Now she’s mad I’m demanding too many hours, because she stayed all night on New Year’s, too…”

You cringed, thinking about New Year’s night.

“I don’t know what to do, can you go to my apartment? I already called Seungkwan, and then I tried Joshua, but—”

“Of course I’ll do it!” you interrupt. “You can’t call your friends, they’re busy men… I’ve got nothing going on, it’s fine. I’ll go.”

Jun sighed in relief. “You sure?”

You looked over at the make-shift dining room table in your apartment. Guanhang promised to be home for dinner, but he hadn’t come home at all. “Yeah,” you told him. “Just try to have a safe flight, okay?”

Hao’s crying, and the babysitter is panicking when you come into the apartment. You quickly explain the situation to her, and she’s soon excused, leaving you and the sobbing boy alone, but at least seeing you, who he associated with his dad, calmed him down a little.

“Your dad’s at the airport,” you explain to the little boy patiently. “You remember airports, right? You’ve been there with daddy?”

He pulls out a plane and asks if Jun is in a similar one, and you answer yes.

“But papa’s always here when I go to sleep,” Hao whined. “And I need someone to watch my back, so the monsters don’t creep up.”

“Do you want me to put you to sleep?” you asked. “Hey, why don’t we sleep in the master bedroom, huh? So you can surprise daddy when he’s home.”

Jun’s giant apartment actually had an office and three bedrooms, but the master bedroom was his, the other was Hao’s—with a little kid-sized bed—and he turned the third bedroom into a playroom, so guests were never expected. You decided once you put Hao to bed, you would go sleep on the couch in the living room, wake up and go home once Jun’s home, you get a day off, anyway.

Jun took a taxi back home. The sun wouldn’t rise for hours. He’d been microdosing on first-class flight champagne all night, and it only made him feel sleepy and unsharp. Plus, he’d been up for an entire day.

He’s stumbling into his apartment, not even taking his shoes off—if he sat down to do it, he’d fall asleep immediately—and only takes them off when he’s in his bedroom. He hears Hao’s little breaths and sniffles, and concludes he’s in his bed.

But when he turns to finally look, you’re there, too, lying on the blankets, not under them. You must have fallen asleep putting Hao to sleep…

Jun tucks you into bed, intending to keep you and Hao there and sleep in the living room, but he can’t deny the welcoming pliability of his bed, so he would just rest his head, on the familiar navy pillows, just a blink, just to shut his eyes…

When you wake up, it's because there’s something in your hand. You blink the sleep out of your eyes, to see that you were holding onto Jun’s hand, held over his sleeping son’s chest.

You flinch away, and with the rustle of the bedsheets, he’s awake.

You’d been sleeping, forehead to forehead and holding hands over the sleeping boy, like you were a family.

You murmur your apologies. He excuses you, and tells you you can keep sleeping for a bit, he’s going to take a shower anyway, he’ll make you and Hao breakfast and then you could leave.

You’re having this whole conversation still lying on the bed like a mom and dad, and he reached over, patting your head. Your hair’s messy, and still had clips in it, never having taken them off. He pets you as if you were something beloved—but you pulled away. Cleared your throat. “Um. You should go shower.”

He’s so tired he doesn’t even know what he’s doing, whole body running on autopilot until he wakes up watching the steam rise out of the showerhead. Jun lets the warm water rush all over his body, pitter-pattering over his closed eyelids and down his broad shoulder. He sighed. He’s travel-weary, and jetlagged, and everything sucked. And he was embarrassed, because of the way you had flinched away from his touch…

Suddenly he heard footsteps outside the bathroom, and despite the sounds of the water, he heard everything (damn you, expensive rich-people shower!).

“I was home until 10, and you’re the one that didn’t come home!” He realized you were screaming, and you were near the bathroom because you had to scream—it was the farthest from where Hao was sleeping, so a blindspot.

“Heng, I had work!”

“Don’t give me that work bullshit, how is there work at fucking midnight?!” Damn. He could hear it despite the call not being on speaker, and also through the sounds of the water. Guanhang could yell, for sure.

“There just was! I’m an assistant–I’m sorry, alright, I’m sorry! I tried to call you last night—”

“Stop fucking calling me, then, fucking leave me alone!” You went quiet, which made Guanhang snap: “why aren’t you saying anything?!”

Jun hears you groan. He tries to tune it out, until at one point he can’t hear anything anymore. It must be over. Hao must still be asleep, although he bets not for long. Jun weighs his options, what he could make for breakfast for the three of you. He lets the warmth of the shower and the prospect of good food lull him into a another open-eyed nap.

Your whereabouts in the house were unknown to him, until he sees your figure enter the bathroom, through steam-mist shrouded silhouettes. He doesn’t say anything, letting you get ready on your own for the day—but you open the door to the shower.

Jun basically jumps back, but sees that now you’re in your tank top, the one you wore under your sweater, and… panties. His eyes don’t linger that long there.

“I wanted to shower, too,” you told him. He doesn’t say anything, half in shock, still tired. But he does watch everything, the way you peeled the pieces of clothing off of you so slowly, and then, under his gaze, felt strange and so cover your breasts with your arms. You look like a pin-up girl, which makes his brain chemistry go woah. You join him under the water, looking as if you didn’t even realize he was there, focused on wetting all of your hair, with closed eyes concentrated on the feeling of the water.

Can he touch you? Jun decided not to bet on it, and leaned back, watching you, dazed. He didn’t even understand what was happening.

You pull him in by the back of his hair, making him lean down to kiss you. As soon as that awkward seal broke, Jun’s on your skin, kissing your naked chest, trying to cover more ground than the water does. But you need his lips on your own, stat, so you yank his head up with a sharp, painful pull of his hair. He winces, but finds he likes the pain—like your coffee, everything you give him is sweet.

“This time you can cum inside of me,” you say raspily against his ears, which makes him feral, turning you around and pressing you up against the glass walls of the shower. He lets out a low growl, reminiscent of his days as a bachelor, before his ex, before Hao. He felt like he was just dripping in that youth again, being inside of you.

It doesn’t occur to him how weird it was. Why would you not even let him pat you on the head, but kiss him naked in the shower? Of course, he came to a conclusive construct in the end: Guanhang. Every time your own boyfriend disappointed you, you came to him.

The next morning, right before he set out to drive to work, came the text:

(2) New messages from Y/N

Forget about yesterday, please

I feel really bad. We shouldn’t have.

Jun would wait. Until Guanhang makes you feel unneeded again, he would wait. He didn’t see it as taking advantage of your sadness—in fact, it was a sadness mutualism. He was there for you when you felt down, and he… Well, he was always sad. You made it worse when you left, but when you were around it felt like heaven.

Guanhang spends nights out, and you wanted to limit your meetings with Jun to just that, but sometimes, you’d take his car to his apartment, fuck, and then he’d drop you off, right before Guanhang comes home from work or whatever he does. You never get caught—Guanhang doesn’t expect you back so quickly. There were nights you spent completely at his apartment, where you’d talk more than you’d fuck, and also play house with Hao, like a little family, and Jun’s never had that, that he begins to actually fool himself. He knows it’s insane, of course, but sometimes between sleepover nights and making you breakfast, he wishes you were Hao’s mom. He thought he’d given up on that a long time ago, but you made him revisit what it feels like to be young and in love.

At the office, you act naturally. You never even show half a glimmer of interest in him, you do your job. No one catches on. Your acting was genuinely convincing, that he’d wonder if you even liked him at all, but once work is over and he’s driving you back, you’re all over him.

He knows, of course, that it all depended on Guanhang, agonizingly so—you only paid attention to Jun when Guanhang wasn’t paying attention to you. And sometimes Jun gave you presents here and there, shopping trips and premium subscriptions—and one time you wanted to give Guanhang a video game as a present, so you siphoned off Jun’s money for that. He knows it’s wrong, you’re stringing him along, but sometimes he knew no better. He chose to know no better.

“She’s just a user,” Minghao told Jun when he finally admitted to it. “If she only comes to you when her boyfriend has off-days, I’m sorry, she’s a user. Nothing more to it.”

Jun knew you didn’t love him, of course, but it’s hard to imagine you completely indifferent to him. You were nice when you’re together.

“Either way,” Minghao says, “It’s a dangerous game. What if she extorts you?”

“She wouldn’t!”

“She has a boyfriend, what if he finds out and blackmails you?!”

Jun admitted to the possibility, but told Minghao not to worry. He was willing to go down for you, although he didn’t dare admit it to his friends.

But Jun let you in every time you knocked, until you became as familiar to him as the back of his hand.

“I’m taking Tuesday afternoon off,” Jun says as he lazily thrusts into you, “We’re trying to get Hao into one of those high-end nursery schools, next year.” He moved in you, and it’s tight and wet, but for you it just feels full, with no movement. You feel a little crazy.

If you weren’t trying so hard to cum, maybe you could have made a joke about how high-end nursery schools can be. But you just nod, peeking at him through scrunched eyes. “Uh-huh!” you squeaked. He’s moving again, and you throw your head back and moan.

“I think I’ll need you there,” Jun says. “I mean, I’ll need to look important and be hands-on, it’s nice to have an assistant there.”

You shiver around his cock, he’s moving but only minimally, and you need the full violent, bottom-out-and-thrusting-in action. You whine.

“Y/n? Are you getting this? I’ll meet you at the office, alright?”

You simply groan, pushing him back and trying to find… whatever was the pussy equivalent of ‘footing’. You try to gain leverage on the desk behind you and bounce, fucking yourself on his cock, and it’s still not enough.

Jun laughs. You are not getting it. You’re basically going feral from the withheld orgasm. Giving you what you wanted, he goes faster, and you nearly scream, gripping onto his white oxford in bunches, lewdly bouncing on his cock. “Want me to touch you?” he questioned, and you nod vehemently. “Yes, yes, yes, yes—”

There must be like 20 kids running around at this party. (“oh my god, triplets!” you whispered to Jun as you first stepped into the garden) Hao’s shy, and wants his father to carry him, preferably back into the car, but Jun refuses, making him walk. He doesn’t cry to protest, which is what you love so much about Hao. “Go play with Hoon,” Jun suggests, dropping to his knees to talk to his son. He pointed the familiar little face out. “Go on, make new friends!”

“He’s a bit like you,” you told Jun as Hao wandered off into the playpens.

Jun turned to you, curious. “How so?”

“He’s shy, but… he makes it work.” You’re back on your phone again, double-checking your boss’s schedule, checking all mail, confirming meeting times and topics. Jun waits for you on a bench until he couldn’t anymore.

He snatches the phone from you. “Work later,” he says. “I’m just like Hao, and I need you to be tailing me at all times so I can have a sense of security.”

“A false sense of security,” you say. “Wait, security from what?”

“The parents’ committee…”

So you’re the one that meets the fear-striking bunch of parents, rich trust fund kids breeding more trust fund kids, whose only purpose was to take care of their children. They might be problematically prideful and impossibly picky, but they made up for it by having an overly welcome demeanor. The triplets’ mother led the committee and also the waitlist to the nursery school, and as you pointed Hao out to her, she gushed over how cute the little guy was. Jun stands demurely behind you, not even accepting the compliment himself.

“He really is a sweet boy,” says the woman, “well it’s no wonder, when his parents are so cute!”

Jun looked at you, wanting to cut in, but he never speaks soon enough, and you’re the one that goes: “thank you!” with a grin. He doesn’t say anything anymore after that.

It’s winter, and when the party’s over the sun had set. Hao’s extra tired, from climbing up walls and running around with the other kids. When you look back at him, a few minutes after having strapped him into his little child seat, he’s out like a light. “He’s kaputt,” you informed Jun.

“Yeah?” He smiled. “Good… hey, I mean, when they thought you were his mom—”

“I hope you don’t mind!” you say. “I just… didn’t want to go through the whole I’m-actually-his-assitant and then they ask where the mom is and then the whole divorce story…”

“I’m actually grateful.” Jun’s lips are tightened but upturned in a little :] smile. “I… never like talking about his mom.” You nodded. After a few minutes of silence, he goes: “well, I mean, if they ask next time where his mom is, and you’re not there…”

“Of course I’ll be there!” you put a hand over his thigh, and squeeze. “Maybe you can keep saying that, I’m gonna be with you guys for a while, aren’t I?”

Jun’s the one that carries his son out of the car and into the apartment, and you follow him upstairs—he promised to make you dinner. As you get into the elevator, you text Guanhang you’ll be eating somewhere else, if he cares.

Guanhang: Where? Maybe I can join you

You: just somewhere with the girls from the office :) girls’ night?

You look up from your phone as little Hao wakes up, cheeks puffy against Jun’s shoulder. “Y/n,” he says sleepily.

“Hey, little guy. We’re home.”

“You’re home,” Hao says with a yawn, and maybe he just said it because he was half-asleep, but you stop in your tracks. You realize you’d been spending more time at your boss’s house than you do in Guanhang’s apartment.

You ran Hao a bath, and you and Jun bathed the little guy together, complete with bathbombs and bath toys. There’s sand from the garden everywhere in his scalp, which you patiently wash off.

“I want Y/n to be my mommy,” Hao says as you gently wet his hair, occasionally dunking him, which he’s patient to.

You let out a laugh, it was just awkward and you didn’t know what to say, how to parent.

You’re not the parent though, and Jun took the little boy into his arms, growing sterner. “Hey, you don’t say things like that, okay?”

“Why not?” the little boy pondered.

“Well, because she’s still young and she might not like—I mean, son, listen, motherhood—I mean, it’s just—you’re cute, don’t worry, you’re the cutest thing ever, but—you can’t just say that to everybody you like!”

“I don’t say it about everybody,” Hao says. “I just say it about y/n!”

You offer a tight-lipped smile, and Hao’s still not done: “I looove y/n. I like her more than mama. Mama’s mama, and Y/n is mommy!”

“I didn’t teach him that,” Jun says quietly. “I swear, I did not teach him that.”

Later when he sends you home, he’s still apologizing profusely. And then, he lights up with a smile. “It’s good he likes you, isn’t it?”

You shrugged. “I mean… yeah. I like that Hao likes me, it’s part of my job.”

Jun presented a little promise ring, a silver band encrusted with diamonds. Minghao sighs. “You cannot be…”

“It’s for Y/n!”

“I thought she wanted no strings attached?” probed Minghao.

Jun frowned, thinking deeply about it. “But…” he sounded as innocent as his own son as he said it, “we’ve come far enough that we can define our relationship. You don’t know what she told me.”

“What?”

“She said, she’ll be here with me and Hao. For a long time.”

“Jun,” Minghao says, sighing, “don’t… don’t do this to yourself or little Hao. Don’t play with someone that obviously doesn’t care about your feelings.”

“I don’t know, Minghao,” Jun sighed. “I think this might be it. I feel like she could… be in my life. Permanently.”

“She’s a user!” Minghao pointed out. “If she comes to you whenever her boyfriend lets her down, and takes advantage of you and your money because you’re needy with a kid, she’s a bad person.”

“She’s never asked for anything from me,” Jun says sadly. “I think you’re wrong.”

“She never denies your gifts, either.”

“Why would she refuse something I’ve already bought her?”

Minghao groans, head in his hands, his friend was not getting it—he’s just not getting it! “Listen,” he told Jun, “you are not asking someone that flaky for a real relationship. You won’t like what you get.”

“Why—”

“She’s still living with a guy!”

“You’re right,” Jun says. He sinks back down into his chair. “I’ll just ask her to move out, first.”

Minghao throws his hands up in the air and lets out the most strangled groan he’s ever made his entire life.

Jun can’t pop the question. It’s hard to just ask someone about their lovelife, even someone he considers to be as close as you. Of course he, with his small circle and busy life, thought you were close, and you knew everything about his life, but did you consider the same of him? He didn’t even know so much about you.

Plus, you never talk about your feelings. The only time you’d ever come close to that were the times where you talked about Guanhang, times when he eavesdropped, just to know what it’s like to be someone you loved, except it wasn’t him, and he could never imagine it being him.

So he thinks that’s where he should start: Guanhang. If you loved him, then you must hang onto him, and if he gets a straight answer about it then he’ll stop the pining. Plus, it would mean he has no chance.

He picked an evening where you were in your feelings. The sky’s a certain shade of blue, from all the citylights polluting the darkness, and it would never dim; you rolled down your side window and stared out, sometimes enjoying the velocity breeze but he just kept getting stuck in traffic, so the car was often still. “Y/n,” he says quietly, voice almost blending in with sounds of the city, “how’s Guanhang?”

“Oh, you mean the guy I live with?” you snort. You rolled your window up so you could hear him better. “He’s fine. Now that he’s taken up a second job we have less time to fight.”

“Do you love him?”

You gasp. “What?”

“Do you even believe in love?” Jun wondered. “I feel like you don’t really act that way.”

“I didn’t use to,” you answered honestly. You sounded so wise to him, he’d never heard you this way before. “But… one day, you know, Guanhang works at a studio, and I listened to one of the stuff he produced—there were like, 30 guys singing on a backtrack, but I knew immediately when his voice was in it. I could just recognize it.”

Jun’s heart clenched in his chest, and if he weren’t driving he’d double over. He hadn’t had his heart broken in so long… not since his broken engagement.

“And,” you say, “one night, Guanhang ‘borrowed’ his friend’s car and we went out of the city, to stargaze. We just had the radio to listen to, so we spent the entire ride driving past the suburbs screaming the lyrics to every song we knew. It was like a competition—and then, at one point, I stopped screaming. I just listened to him. I realized then that’s what love is? If that makes sense? Love is shutting up while you’re singing in the car because you want to hear their voice. And that’s the day I said it. ‘I love you.’ I’ve never said it to anybody before in my life.”

You looked over at Jun. “But now he’s just some guy I live with.”

Well, that wasn’t a straight answer. But he knew he could never ask you now. Guanhang was someone you’d always want to hang onto. With his ex, it had been black-and-white, she didn’t want him and he gave up. But Guanhang was always going to string you along, and he… knew he couldn’t compete. He’d never felt good enough for love, ever since his ex and the wedding debacle.

There’s a letter of resignation on his desk, a few days after that night. You had been growing cold towards him, nights where you slept over grew seldom and seldom until you just stopped. But you give him his coffee every day still, perfectly, even, without spillage, and it always tastes just as sweet, as sweet as only you could make it.

So it’s a shock to him as he read the letter, right in front of your eyes. “Why?” he demanded. He got so fired up he started speaking mandarin. “Wèishéme?!”

“I just…” you say, blinking tears away, “I just can’t do this anymore, and seeing you every day at work like we aren’t something is just...”

“Is it Guanhang?” he demanded.

“No,” you say. “No, I just… I just want positions I deserve. And I feel like I got here because… you liked me.”

“You’re here because I like the way you work,” Jun insisted. You don’t believe him. “No, I—I had this assistant that would color-code everything with custom stickers, but they were all pastel and I basically turned colorblind trying to read them, I had another guy assistant that kept asking questions and making me confirm everything myself, I had this other intern, right before you, that took pictures of me and Hao because he wanted to put it on his blog—Y/n, you’re great. I like that you don’t overcomplicate your systems, you sometimes spill things and trip and fall, but I don’t mind. It’s small flaws I never even saw—I didn’t hire you because of some… sexual ulterior motive. I like you. I like the way you work first, and then I just… fell for the rest of you.”

You looked conflicted, you watch him through your eyelashes. “I want to transfer,” you say, resolute but soft enough. “To Mr. Choi’s company—you know I’m more into that line of work, it’s what I studied. I just think a position there might be better.”

Jun tries to convince you to stay, but he was never a believer in his own self.

You leave, two months later, after treating him just like a stranger whose schedule was the only thing you knew about him.

Jun still has the promise ring, and it’s always somewhere in his pocket, although he hopes that one day he could just lose it, more or less accidentally, but the little velvet box always stayed somewhere in the pockets of his coats or trousers. He didn’t even know why it mattered to him, it’s not like you’d even touched it in your entire life. And yet… when he holds it in his hands, it feels to him like that sweet daydream that never became reality—he never got to touch it, but still, it’s so vivid.

Hao keeps asking why you’re not around, and Jun never knows how to answer. He explains the concept of resignation to the little boy, patiently, and Hao sort of begins to get it.

“So Y/n’s somewhere? In this city? And we just can’t see her?”

It’s supposed to be spring, but the wind still blows harsh and northern like the middle of winter, and it reminds him of you, because all the months you’d worked for him were so cold. He remembers you in your little trenchcoats and woolen things, trying to text with a smart glove on…

“Do you want to see her?” Jun asked Hao. “Maybe we just pay a little visit, for the last time?”

So him and his son are parked in front of the complex he always dropped you off, and he presses the bell for 3A, which you shared with Guanhang. When it buzzes in, Jun takes the little boy on his shoulders.

Guanhang’s waiting at the door, not knowing what he’s being visited for. “We just wanted to see Y/n,” Jun says, awkward because that was his rival he was talking to. “The little guy missed him, is it okay if he—”

“Y/n moved out,” Guanhang says plainly. “A month ago.”

But that was when you resigned. “Do you—know where?”

“That receptionist friend she had,” Guanhang says. “Moved in with her. I don’t fucking know. Don’t look at me like that, I tried to make her stay, too.” The door slams.

Jun calls the personnel office in his car with the engine on, as Hao swings his little legs on the seat. This was a revelation to him—you ended it with Guanhang, and even with him, and everything’s just so clear to Jun, now: you wanted things you deserved. You were starting over. You wanted to work for things yourself. He just wanted you back in his life, he wasn’t bad for you, he would prove it.

The phone comes through. “Hey! Good evening, it’s Jun—I just need to know where Choi Arin lives.”

“For something good, like a bonus, I hope,” replies the man working at the office.

Arin lives in another complex, closer to work this time. The apartment was on the third floor, and Jun climbed the stairs with Hao on his shoulders, once again, only for Arin to come out and tell him you didn’t live there anymore.

“It was just temporary,” she said. “She wanted a real place she could rent—I think Mr. Jo from security hooked her up with a free space in his flat.”

“Hey, Jun again… could you give me the address of Jo from security?”

He doesn’t know which floor you lived on, or even which side of the terrace. He tries door after door, and nice ladies here and there wanted to accompany him for the rest of the search. Then another man wants to see it through, too, and Jun entrusts that his son was grabbing the tail of his coat at all times, following him.

He’s gathered a bunch of people following him when he arrives at the new side of the terrance. He almost loses the motivation to go around asking a whole neighborhood if they knew you, when…

He could hear music, faintly coming from a ground-floor window. He followed it, knowing the melody well—you would hum it all the time, it was your favorite.

He knocks on the door it leads him to.

You come out with a bowed head, and you’re more beautiful than he remembers, although you looked even more tired. If you were living here but working at Seungcheol’s company, you must be waking up so early just to make it there at 9 a.m. Jun reaches out to touch you, as if he had been fooled and you’re just a mirage.

“Y/n!”

You extend your arms to the little boy, and he climbs up. Your laughter is light. “Hao! What are you guys—Jun? What is this?”

He doesn’t know how to start this. He fumbled around with the pockets of his paddington coat, and there were just too many pockets. After going through each of six pockets twice and coming up with just stray used tissues and car keys, he checks his pants, and there it was. He pulls out the little velvet box; a bunch of people gasp. You just mumble, “he wouldn’t.” But you don’t know if he would.

But there is a ring, although at closer inspection you notice it’s not for engagements. A simple promise ring, which you putt out to inspect, and ‘1.1. 00:00’ is engraved on the inside.

Your first kiss. You look up at him, and just when you’re about to speak, Mini-Wen wraps his arms around you. “Missed you, Y/n.”

“Y/n,” Jun starts, “I just—I—I wanted to ask you to be mine. But I was just—I was just afraid. I’ve had this phobia against relationships ever since Hao’s mom left me, and…” (the crowd ‘aww’ed) “I was afraid of getting close to someone again, if they might break my heart, and well, you did–you did, you left. But… I found out it doesn’t even matter. I’m happy to be loving you and getting my heart broken by you. I think you’ve got your fair share of broken hearts, too, but if you trust me—” you’re looking up at him with a brand new look in your eyes. He falters, splutters, as he always did when you look at him. “I can promise you I’ll always be here for you. I’ll keep your place for you, I’ll always protect you, I’ll—”

With Hao still in your arms, you step in and kiss Jun. For a second he forgets to close his eyes, and he just watches you, lips sinking into his. He knows exactly what he feels for you, except he’s just too scared to say what it is.

“Did my speech move you into kissing me?” He murmured against your lips.

“No, but there’s just too many people watching I felt the need to perform.”

Hao plants a kiss on your cheek, and suddenly you and Jun are kissing him back, on each cheek—Jun had imagined showing his son love with this, but it was only you that made it possible.

He brings you and Hao closer into him, warm and padded inside his coat.

“I think I was too preoccupied to tell you on New Year’s,” Jun says. “I hope you have a good year, Y/n.”

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its-time-to-write · 10 months

Text

bored

Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been posting less. Life’s been busy and I’ve been tired. Here’s some angst. It’s very long.

bored

It’s not falling out of love if you still love him, right? It’s more…slipping away. You feel like you’re falling off a cliff, scrambling for a handhold and coming up empty.

You hate this part in a relationship. The slide away. The boredom that creeps in. It happened with your last relationship, too. His name was Joseph, and you were together a year and a half when he started pulling away from you. It was little things at first, not talking as much and kissing you less. Then it was missing date nights and only kissing you on the forehead and silent dinners. He buried himself in books and barely looked at you and you knew the breakup was coming, but you could’t bring yourself to be the one to leave. So you didn’t. You just waited until he dropped the news at dinner and pretended like you were ok with it, and not that you had been secretly packing up your things for weeks.

It broke you a little bit. The slow pull. The obvious boredom that he had. The dissatisfaction with you.

The waiting was torture, the aftermath was worse. Your dad was worried as you continued to dwindle into a shell of yourself. Skin pallid, eyes hallow, never smiling.

Your aunt Eileen said you needed to get out of the country and into a change of scenery, which is why you’re on a plane on your way to live with her in England.

You’re fortunate that your job in graphic design allows for remote work and an asynchronous schedule.

It’s fun to live with Aunt Eileen. She’s very loud and very Irish. She only lives in London to be near her sister, who married and Englishman (much to the chagrin of the rest of your family). Your dad, their brother, married an American which was better-received. You have your mom’s accent, which is mostly due to the fact that you grew up in America. You think maybe if you grew up over here it would be different.

Eileen does not let you be sad. And, it’s easier to forget about Joseph when there are no reminders of him around. It’s a completely new place with completely new faces.

Eileen takes you all over Richmond. You meet her friends and the locals, and begin to feel things again. Not happiness per se, but some positive neutral.

Eileen kicks you out of the house every Thursday evening. She says it’s so you can explore and have time to yourself, but it’s really when all her yoga friends come over for rosé and awful reality shows. You don’t really mind, you caught a minute of one and couldn’t handle the absurdity of it. You suppose that’s the appeal, it just isn’t for you.

So instead, you get out. You brings a small sketchpad and a pencil, and create.

You haven’t done analog drawing in forever, and it’s refreshing to be away from a screen. You draw whatever you want, whether it’s your mood or a sketch of your surroundings. Little by little, you find yourself again.

—

Richmond is a big football town. Everyone loses their mind when there’s a match, and the streets become a sea of red and blue. Aunt Eileen doesn’t watch football, and neither do you. Like reality tv, you just can’t get into it. Apparently the coach (or gaffer) frequents a pub that Eileen takes you too, and he’s American like you. He heard you talking once and came over to introduce himself.

“I’m Ted and this is Coach Beard,” he had said. “Nice to hear a familiar accent around here. What’s been the biggest culture shock for you? Mine has been the fact that the cars all drive on the wrong side of the road.”

You like Ted and Beard. They remind you of home, the good parts of home. You see them pretty regularly and they talk about coaching and football, and listen to you tell them about your designs and family.

“You takin’ new work?” Ted asks one day. “Could find you some projects around Nelson Road.”

So now you’re contracted by a woman named Rebecca to keep things up to date around AFC Richmond’s headquarters.

Rebecca is something else. She’s everything you want to be, confident and fearless. She charges ahead and takes what she wants, but does it with kindness and grace.

You suppose the kindness is what gets you the most here. Eileen thinks it’s good for you to get out and work with actual people instead of remote on a screen, and you privately agree with her. There isn’t always a lot of work to do, but Rebecca set you up with an office and allows you to work on projects for your other companies. Her friend Keeley pops in from time to time, to chat and tell you that your designs need more pink.

“It’s objectively the best color, babe,” she says. “Makes everything else pop!”

Keeley starts becoming your friend, too.

Rebecca takes it upon herself to become your mentor of sorts, and she sits you for a meeting after your first week.

“What sort of work do you really want to do?” she asks.

You tell her you love everything. You love murals and sketches and passion projects and surrealism. You love pencils and paint and digital art, but hate watercolor and charcoal. You love artsy interior designs and posters and tiny stickers and large paintings. You love making things expressive and beautiful, in whatever capacity you can.

A week and a half later, you’re redecorating Keeley’s office.

“You know what I like, babe,” she says affectionately.

And you do. You’ve known her two weeks, but she’s made an effort to get to know you and to make herself known. You’re trusting people again.

—

Keeley bursts into your office in a flurry of sequins and fringe two days after you did her office, dragging someone by the hand.

“Babe,” she says, breathless from her obvious run to you, “tell Jamie he fucking cannot wear socks and sandals.”

You look at this Jamie and see he is indeed committing a terrible fashion faux pas.

And… looking good while doing it?

You look back at Keeley. “Keels, why are you asking me?”

She looks at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because you’re Richmond’s art person! You know what looks good and what doesn’t! And this one-” she pauses to pinch Jamie’s cheek affectionately, “won’t fucking listen to me.”

Jamie shrugs, looking embarrassed. “Sorry to bug you,” he says. “Know you’ve got other shit to do.”

This is interesting. This Jamie is looking sheepish, blush tingeing the tips of his ears. You don’t know him, but what you’ve seen of all the footballers, they have egos for miles. They’re all incredibly kind, but definitely confident. Embarrassment doesn’t even seem like something any of them are capable of, but here’s Jamie in front of you, all apologetic and shooting glances at Keeley with the clear message let’s go.

Keeley isn’t paying attention, just bouncing on her toes and waiting for your response.

You assess Jamie and say, “Actually, he’s pulling it off.” You give him your name and he smiles a little, sticks out his hand, and says, “I’m Jamie.”

Keeley frowns at you (not a real one) then grabs Jamie’s hand and marches out the door in a similar fashion that she entered. Jamie throws you one last apologetic glance before he’s dragged out the door.

You sit back in your chair, processing what just happened. This is the first time you’ve actually met someone on the team, and it was not at all what you expected.

—

You’re working through lunch on a side project the next day, when there’s a knock on your doorframe.

“Jamie!” you say, looking up in surprise, “What can I help you with?”

He fidgets for a moment then replies, “Keeley sent me to make sure you weren’t working through lunch.”

Oh. That’s interesting.

You frown, though not at him. “Don’t worry, I’m not.”

Jamie squints at you. “You fucking lying?”

He says it so sincerely that you laugh, and put down your pen. “Yes I am, but if Keeley asks then no. I’m taking my required mental break and not working.”

Jamie moves from the doorway and plops down on the chair across from your desk.

“Whatcha working on?”

You spend the better part of thirty minutes telling Jamie about a redesign for a children’s center logo and the details of keeping the essence while modernizing it and revamping the color scheme, all while he nods and asks questions in all the right places. It’s not until your alarm goes off on your phone that you both jump and say, “Shit,” in unison.

“I’m late. Roy’s gonna fucking kill me,” Jamie groans.

You feel terrible. “I’m so sorry,” you respond sincerely. “Shit, I’m sorry. Tell Roy it was my fault.”

Jamie shakes his head. “Nah, weren’t yours. Should’ve kept a better eye on the time.”

He’s halfway out the door when he turns back and smiles at you. “I’ll tell Keeley you took a real break.” He winks and and disappears around the corner.

You make a mental note to ask Keeley about this whole thing later.

—

“Oh he’s into you, babe.” Keeley says, hours later when you’re at her house for drinks and dinner.

“WHAT, no!” you protest, “He’s not! He was just- just-”

Keeley nods and smirks. “Can’t finish that sentence, can you? Y’know, I just told him to check on you. I didn’t say anything about eating lunch with you.”

Rebecca nods in agreement. “I also overheard him telling Ted that he didn’t think you were attractive at all.”

You and Keeley turn to her with matching quizzical expressions.

“He was clearly not telling the truth. I didn’t even have to see his face, I could hear it in his voice,” Rebecca explains.

“Ooh, right, yeah, Jamie’s a shit liar!” Keeley exclaims. “Oh my god babe, I literally can’t believe it. You’d be so fucking adorable together.”

Rebecca tilts her head and gives you an appraising look. “I can see it,” she says.

Your face is on fire but you’re laughing and shaking your head. “If Eileen didn’t have her yoga group over for drinks, I would be totally out of here.”

—

Rebecca was right. Jamie does like you and he asks you out the next week.

He says, “I think you’re fucking amazing. Do you want to get dinner?”

He’s radiating so much confidence that despite yourself, you laugh and say yes. Eileen is beside herself, so happy that you are going out with “such a nice young man.” Keeley and Rebecca feel a similar way. Keeley’s boyfriend Roy just grunts. You like Roy. He’d never admit it, but he’s very kind. You know he threatened Jamie within an inch of his life when he heard you two had started dating, and the sentiment almost made you tear up. Almost.

—

You slip in to a pattern. Living with Eileen, spending nights with Jamie. Dinner with Keeley and Roy, drinks with Keeley and Rebecca. Walks in the park, early morning breakfasts, family picnics. Jamie is present for everything except girl’s night. (He makes a pretty convincing argument for why he should be included, if you’re being honest).

It’s… scary. You’re still hurting from Joseph, but Jamie does his best to erase any trace of him. He tells you he’s going to kiss every inch of your skin, so that his lips are the only ones you think of. He brings you flowers and makes sure to tell you how much he loves you.

Eileen pretends not to notice that your bed is empty more nights than not, and you do your best to return that courtesy by keeping her in the loop of your comings and goings, so she knows if she should save you dinner.

You and Jamie are together like this for four and a half months. It’s wonderful and terrifying and perfect.

You’ve almost forgotten Joseph ever existed.

Until one morning, Jamie has returned from morning training with Roy.

He walks in the door and you say, “Hi babe!” from your position by the coffeemaker. Jamie doesn’t respond, just absentmindedly kisses you on the cheek and grabs a cup. He doesn’t even smile at you. You look at him for a minute as he moves around the kitchen, waiting for him to acknowledge your presence. He doesn’t. He’s out the door again in a minute, barely even saying goodbye.

You chalk it up to the upcoming match. He always gets a little more focused than usual when it’s against Man City. You tell yourself he’ll be better by Sunday.

—

He’s not.

—

Jamie’s pulling away from you.

It’s Joseph all over again.

You start to do little things to get his attention. You put on his favorite lingerie set under a “Tartt” jersey and greet him with it when he gets home. He kisses you on the fucking forehead and goes to grab dinner. He goes straight to the bed to sleep right after.

You make his favorite dinner and set the table all fancy, candles and everything. Jamie says an absent thanks. You eat in silence.

He brushes off any attempt you make to kiss him, and you can count the amount of words he’s said to you on one hand. You feel like a child, the way he’s treating you and all of the sudden, in between bites of chicken, you know.

Jamie’s bored.

This is ending.

You spend the night because it would be weird not to, but you lay in bed, awake the whole time. You’re under every single blanket Jamie owns, yet your blood is running cold. It’s the only thing you can feel, really, other than your heart beating furiously in your chest. The rest of you is just… numb. You pretend to be asleep when Jamie gets up at 3:30am for training, but the moment you hear the door shut you leap out of bed and collect your things. You successfully sneak back into Aunt Eileen’s house and sit on the floor of the bathroom until sunrise, knees pulled to your chest as you stare at the floor

There’s been a constant rushing in your ears since dinner with Jamie, one that accompanies you as you mechanically dress and head to Nelson Road. Your body is on autopilot as you head to your desk, past Ted and Beard, past Dani, past Sam, Nate, and Will. You know Jamie’s there, although you don’t see him. You spend most of the day glancing at your door, waiting for him to appear with lunch and an explanation.

He doesn’t.

—

It’s late, not too late but late enough that the boys are all gone, and you’re in the locker room making aesthetic assessments for Rebecca when you see it.

Jamie’s locker.

The voice in your head screams don’t do it! but your legs are moving on their own accord, drawn by some strange impulse. You stop in front of his locker and look inside.

Your picture is gone.

It’s your favorite one. Eileen took it at dinner one night. You’re in the kitchen stirring something on the stove, laughing at something Jamie said. He’s grinning at you and looking at you with stars in his eyes. The love is palpable.

And it’s gone.

Autopilot gives way to shock and your knees buckle. You’re on the floor and you’re not sure how you got there or how long you’re crying, but the door is opening and Nate is kneeling next to you and asking if you’re alright in a soft voice. You don’t respond, just keep crying, and next thing you know Keeley’s arms are around you as you panic on the floor of the Richmond locker room.

—

She drives you to Eileen’s, and you burst in through the front door.

“Eileen!” you gasp, “It’s happening again, he doesn’t love me and I don’t know what I did-” you ram into something solid not he threshold.

“Fuck,” says Roy, although that’s not surprising because that’s roughly 80% of his vocabulary.

“Hi babe,” says Keeley in a small voice, hot on your heels, “Forgot this was yoga night.”

“What?” you ask, Jamie temporarily forgotten.

Roy just sighs and says, “Come on. Eileen’s got rosé in the kitchen. But you already fucking knew that, didn’t you.”

—

Turns out Roy is part of Eileen’s yoga group. You swear never to tell anyone.

He, in turn, succinctly grills you on Jamie.

“What the fuck did the little prick do?” he asks in his most growly voice yet.

You’re in the kitchen with him, Keeley, and Eileen. Aunt Eileen has let the yoga group know there’s been a change of plans, and they take it all in stride. Maureen herds them all to G-A-Y and they’re gone in a moment.

So now you’re here, eyes dry but red, explaining how Jamie is bored of you.

Roy says, “Fuck.” Aunt Eileen looks like she’s ready to murder someone. Keeley just looks sad.

“You’re coming to mine,” Keeley says, in a voice that leaves no room for arguments. “We’ll put on pajamas and do face masks and Roy will make that fancy little cheese platter he’s so good at.”

Roy doesn’t even protest, just nods and slips his hand around Keeley’s waist. She settles back against him in a way that makes your heart squeeze, because it’s the exact same way you would settle against Jamie.

Eileen says, “I’ll go pack you a bag,” and then she’s bustling upstairs to your room.

—

You and Keeley have matching cucumber-mango face masks, and you’re in her bed watching Look Both Ways. You can hear Roy downstairs in the kitchen putting cheese, grapes, and whatever the fuck else on a tray. He brings it up and places it on the bed, kissing Keeley with an amicable grunt.

“I’m headed the fuck to sleep,” he says. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

You smile at him as best you can, which is really just turning your mouth into a straight line, and Keeley says “Bye, babe.”

Roy smiles (as big as he ever does) and leaves.

You reach for an olive and settle back on to the pillows.

—

You don’t sleep much, but you do sleep. Keeley is wrapped around you like a spider monkey so you finally drift off around 3am. It’s not lost on you that Jamie will be awake in thirty minutes, and that it should be his arms wrapped around you.

—

You’re in your office for a grand total of fifteen minutes when Rebecca comes marching in.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asks.

“My job..?” you respond tentatively.

She shakes her head. “You’re getting the day off. As a matter of fact, you can take Monday as well. You do good work, and you’ve never missed a deadline. You can take a goddamn break.”

Oh. Keeley must have told her.

You nod slowly then get up to grab your bag.

Rebecca pauses for a moment, then pulls you into a hug. It’s incredibly calming.

Rebecca asks, “Do you need anything?”

You shake your head. “I think I’m just going to get my things from Jamie’s while he’s at training. I don’t want to make a scene. I’ll call him tonight and let him know we’re done, just so it isn’t prolonged anymore.”

Tears appear in your eyes and Rebecca hugs you again.

“Well,” she says, “just give me call. You know how to reach me.”

—

There’s a lot of things at Jamie’s, but fortunately you keep a box in the back of your car. You’ve cleaned out your tea from his cupboards, toiletries from his bathroom, and are now kneeling on the floor, emptying out your drawer. Your hands linger a little too long over the Tartt 9 jersey Jamie gave you when a voice says, “What the fuck are you doing?”

You jump. “Jesus, Jamie. Aren’t you supposed to be at training?”

“Coach said I had to go home. What the fuck are you doing?”

You skip over the fact that he didn’t elaborate on which coach sent him home and remind yourself to kill Roy.

You blow out a long, slow breath. Fuck. This was not how this was supposed to go.

“I um, I’m cleaning out my things.” You can’t look him in the eyes. You’re still on the floor, Jamie’s in the doorframe.

Jamie is silent so you continue.

“I just wanted to make things easier,” you tell the jersey in your hands. “I… know what’s happening. And it’s fine, really. I’m not…entitled to your love, you know? So… it’s ok. I just-” you sigh, body feeling so heavy all of a sudden, “I just wanna know one thing.”

You look at Jamie for the first time. “What is it about me that’s boring?”

Jamie opens his mouth to say something, but you barrel on. “You don’t have to lie, we’re probably never going to speak again, so just tell me. Because I’ve been over it a million times in my head and I can’t figure it out. I tried to figure it out with Joseph too. I get it if I were too clingy or too talkative or something, but what is it that makes me boring?” Tears have started streaming down your face at some point. God, this has been such a shit week. All this crying is making your eyes hurt.

There are tears in Jamie’s eyes, too.

“I- you- you aren’t boring,” Jamie croaks.

He could’ve fooled you.

“Then why have you been pulling away from?” you ask, voice small. “You kissed me on the forehead, Jamie. Like I was, I don’t know, your great aunt or something.”

Jamie rubs his face with his hand. “Shit, I- shit. I’m so fucking sorry. God, babe, I’m so, so fucking sorry. Roy told me to come here, said something about fucking shit up again, so I came here and found you like that on the floor and- shit, I just fucked up.”

He’s made his way over to you, slowly, like you’re a wild animal about to spook. He crouches down on the floor next to you and reaches out a hand to your cheek.

“It’s my dad,” he says finally. “He came ‘round, asking questions and shit, and he asked about you. And I fucking hated that. He knew your name and shit. Made some threats. I didn’t- I wanted to protect you. And I thought once you knew about him you wouldn’t want shit to do with me. I was fucking waiting for you to break up with me once you found out.”

Jamie’s voice is far too raw for this to story to be made up. The only thing you know about his dad is that he exists, and Jamie never talks about him. This… makes sense. It’s fucking stupid, but it makes sense. So you tell him.

“Jamie,” you say, “that is fucking stupid. It makes sense, but it’s fucking stupid.”

He hangs his head. “God, I know. He comes ‘round and I forget how to fuckin act.”

“Hey,” you say softly, tilting his chin up to meet his eyes. “This was shitty. But we’re learning. We’ll work on communicating, I promise. I’ll get better at it too. And as far as your dad goes, we’ll figure that out.”

Jamie laughs wetly and you bring his head close for a kiss.

You two will figure it out.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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rockingrobin69 · 9 months

Text

Food for thought

“I’m so glad you came,” Potter said with that look on his face. Draco felt himself clam, go small-small-small until his nose barely cleared the line of his shoulders.

“It’s,” he tried through a too-dry mouth, “no problem, really. Happy I could help.”

“I don’t know why it keeps doing that,” scratching the back of his neck with those big Potter-hands. The grandfather clock had been in the Black house for centuries. Now it was showing the right time again, and also, conveniently, no longer throwing darts at bystanders. “I swear it was working this morning.”

“Truly, a mystery.” Draco levelled a scathing glance at Pansy, who was sitting at the counter with a far-too-neutral expression. “Pans, if you wouldn’t mind, a word?”

He dragged her out to the corridor, only barely not by the ear. She had the audacity to smile. “Everything all right, dear?”

“None of that,” in a heated whisper. “That’s the third, Pans. How many times would you break Potter’s things just to have him call me?”

“If you’d bothered calling him yourself, I wouldn’t have to.”

“Pansy Parkinson!”

“Draco Malfoy.” Examining her fingernails with an exaggerated yawn. “Are you suggesting I’m messing with my own colleague? I would never.”

He rolled his eyes so hard his head hurt. “You’re not fooling anyone. Did you forget I actually know you? Potter does too. Soon enough he’ll figure out—”

“That he simply must take you on a date? I’d hoped so, yes.” With a cheeky wink: “Got to go, my show’s about to start. We’ll catch up later, yes? Still on for drinks on Friday?” and she left, the corridor and a flushed, slightly hyperventilating Draco, alone in Potter’s place.

“Erm, Draco?” from the kitchen. “I think I might’ve made too much pasta. Stay for dinner?”

Oh, he’s going to kill that woman.

After dinner, that is.

“You’re a life-saver,” Potter murmured, pretty mouth hanging open. On the sofa, Seamus was smiling so smugly, Draco could punch him.

Didn’t. Stood there, made himself small and wished to be not-here, not-now. “It really was no problem. The windows should shut properly now. Have you tried,” but it was useless, he knew why the windows were jammed, and it wasn’t poor maintenance.

His ‘friends’ were just out to get him.

Suppose they thought it was funny? Suppose… Draco didn’t know. Tried to curtail his mortification at being summoned here, again, in another attempt to humiliate him.

That’s what they were doing, right? That’s what this was all about. They knew how he felt about Potter, nothing was more obvious. It was there in pub nights and on their stupid hikes and that time they all went to the beach, it was in Draco’s eyes, in his hands always reaching out, never touching.

“Thanks,” Potter said, for the third time. “You’re so… It’s really fucking kind of you to. Take care of me.”

Startled, “I don’t—it’s just your windows, Potter. There’s no reason to get all sentimental.”

A loud noise: Seamus, snorting. “You boys are such a mess.” Shaking his head. “Anyway, this was fun. See you two Saturday!” and he disappeared, cartoon-quickly.

(Draco’s been watching cartoons recently. Mostly with Potter, late at night after their friends would leave; sometimes by himself, wearing the jumper he’d stolen and feeling rather pathetic).

“Are you by any chance hungry?” Potter asked from a surprisingly-short distance. He was right there, close enough to touch. Tittering on his tip-toes, like he had any reason to be nervous. “It’s only, I’ve ordered far too much food, and Seamus just. Erm. Left.”

Draco folded inwards, made himself as small as possible, so it won’t start leaking out, all this… foolishness. It was stupid. It would break his heart.

He stayed anyway.

“Thank you so much,” Potter rubbed his eyes, this half-grin on his awful, handsome face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with this house. I think it hates me.”

“I think someone does,” with a murderous look to Ginevra, who not only smirked, but also made a point of coming to see for herself. The cooker had stopped frying everything to a crisp, and should be safe to use again. Big whoop.

“That’s some quick spellwork,” she hit his shoulder far too hard. “Didn’t know you were so good with these.”

“Really,” incredulous. “You didn’t know.”

“And how lucky, that Malfoy could come over so quickly?” she looked between Potter and him. “Maybe you should move in. Easier for the next time something bends out of shape.”

Draco didn’t splutter, because he was an adult, but he must have looked rather pinched. “There won’t be a next time.”

“I’m so sorry,” Potter sounded miserable, standing there in his too-tight Quidditch top and those joggers that always rode too low, “god, Draco, I’m sorry I—”

“No!” he cleared his throat, had no hope of clearing his face of that awful, telling blush. “No, it’s absolutely fine. I don’t mind! I meant, I hope your things stop breaking all the time for no reason.”

“Oh. Don’t worry about it. I, erm, accidentally made too much curry, so—Gin, you were saying you can’t stay?”

Draco’s belly made a terrible gurgle. Oh, he’s going to kill all of them. Closing his eyes, he missed some of the encounter, and probably an evil grin from Ginevra.

“Draco?” Potter came closer, and he smelled like lemongrass and thyme, and like Potter, and like summer, “Would, erm, would you like to stay for dinner?”

Why were the gods testing him this way? He tried to go small-small-small till he wasn’t noticeable anymore, but Potter was too close and Draco’s heart was crushed open. The weight of his want, which had to be so clear on his face, this absolute agony. And nothing he could say but, “Yes, yes,” and hide behind his fingers, and endure it.

The worst part was, Potter was a great cook.

No: the worst was at the end of the night, when he kissed his cheek so, so gently.

Draco went home, and buried himself in his duvet, and swore to never play the fool in these games anymore.

“This is so embarrassing,” Potter announced into his hands, “I don’t know what happened, it just. Won’t quit it.”

His shower curtains were singing. Non-stop.

“I,” Draco swallowed, and his ribs nearly cracked with it, “didn’t k-know you were such a… big Celestina fan.”

Couldn’t hold it in: laughing so hard he was crying, and Potter was laughing too, shoulders heaving, so bright and so wonderful Draco’s teeth ached. They both ended up on the floor, winded and flushed. Draco loved him so much it was frightening.

“I,” he almost said it out loud, covered his mouth with a hand.

“What?” Potter, laughing. He took Draco’s hand with both of his, tried to pull it away, “What, what were you going to say?”

“Nothing!” in a tiny squeak. “Potter!” when he basically climbed in his lap, still laughing, laughing.

“You have to tell me. I made your favourite biscuits, so you have to.”

“You—did?” confused and bright-red in the face, “Why? Was someone supposed to come tonight?”

Potter’s eyes were so big. “No?”

“So why did you…” Potter always had too much food not due to a lack of planning, but his heart, that huge thing. “You cook when someone comes over.”

“Yes,” Potter agreed. He was so close and so warm. Baffling.

“So who did you bake the biscuits for?” who was responsible for this evening’s prank, he meant, for this torment. Whom should he thank or perhaps curse. Potter blinked his pretty eyelashes, then one big hand came to cup Draco’s face.

“You,” he said. This tiny, shy voice. “I made them for you. I was hoping you’d come. Might have… erm… cursed the curtains a bit.”

Draco would have gasped, but Potter’s hand on his cheek. “What?”

“Well… you never come when I invite you, only when something’s broken, and I, I, wanted to see you.”

No, that didn’t clarify anything. “Why?” Draco asked, and his voice was small too.

Potter huffed something warm on his face. “Because I like you, silly. You must have noticed? Everyone else did. They’ve been driving me bonkers and… they were right. I should have just been honest with you.”

His heart was racing, raucous in his chest. “You know they’ve been playing us. The clock, the windows, the cooker, everything that went wrong, it was them.”

“Not this time,” Potter said. His mouth was so close, so red and so stupidly gorgeous. Coming even closer. “Draco, can I…”

Instead of making himself smaller, Draco went big. Chest expanding, arms sending out and reaching, touching. He kissed Potter before the stupid git could even move, and then they were snogging, wet and sloppy on the bathroom floor.

It was stupid. It was perfect. Behind them, the curtain were still humming: a cauldron full of hot, hot love…

Had to stay for biscuits, right?

For my lovely @orange-peony who gave me a brilliant prompt from this list. Hey, you could do it too!

#drarry fic #prompts #1.5k #PINING PINING PINING #Draco who's longing so much he's half sick #and Harry who can't get enough of him #meddling friends #oblivious idiots to still oblivious but brave idiots #rockingrobin69

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imaginesmai · 2 months

Text

Safe place - Ruhn Danaan

I've been re-reading hosab so I can enjoy the third one and I'm extremly frustrated at the lack of Ruhn fics, so here is my own. It's shitty, it's late and it's not proof-read.

Plot: the autumn king tries to hurt you with his words and actions, but Ruhn is always there to help you up.

You had known it would be hard.

You had known, for a while, that the dreadful day would come, that you would finally face the source of your anxiety and doubts, and that it would be hard.

But it had left you completely broken, as useless as he had described you. Standing outside the Autumn's King's villa, you didn't bother taking cover from the rain nor caring about the looks that granted you. You were too busy replaying the words over and over again in your head, remembering the sting on your cheek from his slap. You knew it would be hard, but meeting your mate's father had exceeded any expectation.

You had been summoned that morning with a brief letter, mentioning that the king wanted to meet you formally. Too busy worrying about what he would say or think, you hadn't noticed the reason behind the sudden decision — Ruhn was away with his Aux for the day, and wouldn't be back until night time. That left Declan and Flynn out of the equation, the only friends you had in that place.

So, when you had been hastily dragged out of his office like trash, when his hateful speech had broken through the walls, no one had said anything.

You choked on the next sob, not knowing what to do. Your shared apartment was more than an hour away walking, and it was pouring. Calling Bryce would be a terrible idea, since she didn't need another excuse to blow that place to pieces, and Hunt shared her feelings. You could always call a cab, but you were certain that none would answer.

The king wanted you out in the streets like a rat, and he would make it happen.

So you hugged yourself, ignored the bruises that were already forming on your forearm and lowered your head. Exiting the fairy territory was the worst part. Not only they didn't do anything about his king behavior, but made sure to force you to step out the sidewalk.

An attractive, tall woman spat at your feet as you walked by her side.

Your eyes full of tears and your heart in a knot, you didn't notice the shadows or the stares until Ruhn stopped in front of you, head to chest. Looking up, your lips trembled once more when you noticed the look on his face. The absolute murder on his beautiful blue eyes. They instantly noticed the angry cut made by his father's ring, the way you cradled your arm.

"It isn't worthy" you hiccupped, tired and devastated. "He isn't"

"You are" he growled back, the street almost covered in his angry, restless shadows. "You are my fucking mate and he has no right to even look at you"

"I just wanna go home"

You had been in that situation before — someone making a comment or a move about the obvious truth, that he was the prince and you were the half-human. That it was not supposed to be, because his fate was to be with someone better, more powerful, more talented. Not a half-human barista who barely managed to finish her studies and pay off her loans.

Each and every single time, Ruhn had gotten himself into trouble because of it. So many times, actually, that you had long ago stopped believing what they said. But it was different, because that time, it came from someone with the capacity of making it happen. Of keeping you away from Ruhn and taking the only light in your life away. Only thinking about it made your breath speed up.

"Flynn will take you home" Ruhn stared behind your shoulder, as if he could see his target.

"Ruhn, please. I just want to... Forget about it" you tried again, sneaking a hand forward until you could grab his. It was shaking from rage.

"And I want to talk to him. Just like he has talked to you" he snarled, not looking at you though holding your hand. "He thinks - he believes he can do this, he has always done it. But there are lines"

"There are lines for you too. Let's just -"

"Have you seen yourself, Y/N?" Rhun interrupted you. "Don't think I can't guess what he has said. He has touched you. He has kicked out of my home, because this is mine too. He has no right. None"

"He will do it again, if you give him a reason" you waited a few seconds in silence before squeezing his hand, looking at him through the pouring rain. "Ruhn"

His eyes finally dropped back to you, and he ran his tongue across his lip piercing. He knew what he needed, what he wanted. To scream back at his father so the whole Lunathion heard how worthy you were of him, how he was the one who had to keep up with you.

Ruhn wanted to finally act on his father, that had caused him so much harm, that had rejected his sister like a stray puppy. He wanted to kill him for even daring to summon you, knowing he wasn't around and your kind heart wouldn't recline.

He was tempted to do so, his eyes moving back and forth from your eyes to the scratch on your cheek. Even if he could imagine what had happened there, he had lived through enough to know it had been worse.

The only thing that kept him from breaking down his father's door and every bone was the urge of taking you away from that place. He hadn't thought about an umbrella or a car. After receiving Bryce call that you weren't home and having Declan track your phone, he had only one worry in mind - your safety.

And he had to ensure that first.

So he brushed off his soaked jacket and put it over your shoulders and head, big enough to cover you partially from the rain.

Without sharing another word, Ruhn draped his arm around your shoulders and tucked you into his chest, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He felt more than saw you trembling, enclosing your body around him like a perfect mold.

Yeah, he would kill his father for this. Just not tonight.

"How did you know?" you asked softly, while he scared away the few curious eyes that still looked at you with just one glare.

"I always know when you need me" he squeezed your shoulders, wishing it was different. "I'll always come"

"I hate him" you admitted, knowing the feeling was shared. "I hate what he said and did, but I hate more than he only cares about us because he wants to use you. I despise him"

There were few people you hated. That girl in fourth grade who cut your hair as you were trying to grow it longer. The cat of your neighbors, who snarled at you and tried to scratch you every time you saw her. People who started wars, maybe. But you were a kind-hearted person, and that had made Ruhn fall in love with you. Tired from all the hate and pain, you had been his salvation in a world where he was losing his soul.

What pained him the most was that, if it wasn't for his father's hidden intentions behind his dislike for your relationship, you wouldn't even hate him. You would shrug the hurt and sadness away, and keep going.

His father loathed that you were his mate, that he had a normal, healthy relationship with no political power. He wasted no occasion to throw him women and men that would be a great alliance to his family – and still, all Ruhn could do was search for your face in the crowd.

So different from each other, he could barely resist the urge of turning around and burning the whole place down. But he kept hugging you silently, gathering the strength to leave that place without turning back.

"Whatever he said, whatever came out if his poisoned mouth, was a lie. He can try and change us, but he won't" Ruhn felt the need to remind you, no matter how many times he had said it. "I love you, I've loved you since the first coffee and long after my body goes cold"

"I love you too, Ruhn"

“Couch and movie?”

Ruhn had planned a party, as he always did, for when he came back that night. But not even Declan and Flynn would argue with him, knowing he needed to stay with you just as much as you needed you. You nodded against his chest and he let you both be consumed by shadows and darkness.

He tugged you forward until you were nested against his side, and started walking. The shadows covered you from the worst part of the rain as you walked in silence, tucked together.

No matter how much his father hurt you, how much he used Ruhn, there was something he could never change – that you were his home.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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cgsf · 6 months

Text

Men's Hockey (RPF) fanfiction recs — Leon/Matthew {Part 2}

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"wondering how many times can a heart melt" 🔒 (E) by slowboat | 2,551 | Wet lips parted, neck pink from beard burn. Head thrown back into the pillow but still watching Leon from under half-closed lids like Leon’s the Second Coming of Christ, like it’s detrimental for Matthew to keep his eyes on him, like he, too, is desperately trying to commit the view to memory.

"wrong when it's right" 🔒 (E) by daisysusan | 8,172 | Leon is drunk. Which—glancing around the locker room—plenty of guys aren’t sober, and for that matter Matthew isn’t either, but Leon is among the drunkest. Maybe the drunkest. Not sloppy, really, but it’s obvious in his loose movements and the way he smiles. And to think, Matthew thought he was going to forget how much he knew about Leon’s body.

"linger" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 71,255 | Matthew doesn’t fuck people who hate him, and he doesn’t fuck hockey players, and he doesn’t fuck alphas. He definitely doesn't fuck alphas when he's in heat. Except for, apparently, Leon Draisaitl.

"punch-drunk" 🔒 (E) by isozym | 3,142 | “Maybe I have a big secret crush on you,” Matthew says with a smile. “On pace for a hundred and forty points, so hot.” “Bullshit,” Leon snorts. His hand drops lower and squeezes Matthew’s ass. “You got me,” Matthew says. “I looked at you and figured your dick was big and uncut and would fit good in the back of my throat.”

"press my head between your shoulder blades" 🔒 (E) by puckthisshift | 13,559 | Leon brings a boy home to Mallorca with him. It was supposed to be some cross between a sexcation and a romantic getaway. Somehow, it turns out better. And more embarrassing for... mostly for Leon.

"Stud" 🔒 (E) by the_pole_position | 959 | "What the fuck?" Brady said, looking over at him in concern. Then, once he spotted Matthew's flaming cheeks, suspicion. "What did you do." It wasn't even a question that he'd done something, which was fair.

"dim the lights and think of you" 🔒 (E) by allthatsings | 2,039 | “Come home with me.” “What?” It’s warmups and Matthew Tkachuk is leering at Leon from the other side of the red line.

"the first law of motion" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 5,568 | Matthew finishes brushing his teeth and spits in the sink. From this close, he smells like sweat, sex, the mint of his toothpaste. “I’m gonna shower too,” he says, reaching for the waistband of the basketball shorts he put on just to come in here, like Leon wasn’t riding his cock half an hour ago. “You staying?” It’s a rhetorical question. Even so, Leon wonders what would happen if he gave the wrong answer.

"your temporary touch" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 5,462 | Leon didn't even want to go to Florida.

"contact high" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 10,065 | So, something is wrong with him. Obviously. Leon’s never heard of anything like this, of feeling overheated and overwhelmed and out of control over your own body. Matthew touching him seems to fix it, though. If Leon were in his right mind, he’d hate that.

"Odour" 🔒 (E) by CoffeeHound91 | 32,201 | Matthew is a Null. He thinks that makes him nothing. Leon disagrees.

"i don't speak german but i can if you like" 🔒 (E) by wheelsnipecellysboys | 3,355 | “Ich spreche kein Englisch, du trottel.” “Woah,” Matthew says unintelligently, putting his hands up in surrender. “Holy shit, what is that? German? Swedish? Fuck.” He slides his martini glass away and grabs the one that this man had bought him, fingers picking at the olives again. “That’s hot.”

"Crowd Pleaser" 🔒 (E) by Helenish | 3,662 | “Best you ever had,” Matthew said once, because he was a dick.

"Wildcard" 🔒 (E) by wearemany | 21,124 | “Anything this guy wants,” he yells, tilting his head towards Draisaitl, “I’m buying.”

"roughed up in the afterglow" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 5,553 | "Fuck," Matthew says, and laughs again, a dry nothing of a sound. "Why is this so awkward?" "I don't know," Leon says, and lets his shoulders drop, shoves his knuckle into his eye. "Jesus."

"follow you down" 🔒 (M) by foundfamily | 11,739 | “Who’s looking after you?” Leon bristles. “Nobody. I’m a grown man.” “I could come out for a few days.” Leon waits for the punchline, sure he must be joking, but Matthew stays quiet, lets the offer linger.

"static" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 1,392 | It all happens on autopilot: punching in an address into Uber, sliding into a backseat, walking over a threshold. One minute he was on the ice, watching the puck go into an empty net as Matthew yanked on his stick, holding him back; the next he was here, standing in Matthew’s bedroom, goosebumps dotting his skin. Even in Florida, he's cold.

"pull me closer (we ain't ever getting older)" 🔒 (E) by ohtempora | 11,503 | Here's what Leon knows about Matthew Tkachuk: He's annoying to play against, especially for a freshman. Especially for a true freshman. He got in a shoving match in an exhibition game against Acadia. He's top on his team in points, and he's going to be a top-ten pick in the upcoming draft. Doesn’t help that he plays for Leon’s biggest rival. His name is getting thrown around for Hobey contention, and Leon can’t take some freshman winning the award he's wanted two years running.

"push-pull" 🔒 (E) by bropunzeling | 2,765 | Matthew can’t help glancing at Leon’s thumb, at the path it's tracing as it dips under the hem of his sleeve. It’s a casually possessive gesture, staking out a square inch of territory. It puts him in mind of two months ago, when they were sitting on the couch at Leon’s place, drinking the beers Leon offered before they got down to the reason Matthew was there; Leon’s arm had draped over the back of the couch, his fingers resting in the notch of Matthew’s shoulder in a way they had never done before, and Matthew had sat there, fist choking the neck of his beer bottle as he tried not to go crazy from wanting to pull away from it. From wanting more of it.

"Bad Habit" 🔒 (M) by ClaraxBarton | 2,295 | Matthew was angry, horny and lonely. Not a great combination in his hometown, during an event that threw an even bigger spotlight on him than usual in a town that was absolutely a hockey town, no matter what people wanted to say. So, his usual go-to for getting rid of the angry, horny, lonely feelings - hooking up with a stranger - was problematic in a lot of ways. Not the least of which was finding the time between all of the everything he had to do.

"Bloodletting" 🔒 (M) by Helenish | 3,781 | They’d been happy. They’d won a lot of hockey games together.

"make this bed get squeaky" 🔒 (E) by puckthisshift | 8,674 | The Oilers win their series against the Flames and Leon feels like he deserves a reward. Showing up at Tkachuk’s house for a booty call feels like the natural next step.

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More to be added.

#fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fic recs #ao3 #mens hockey rpf #mattdrai #leon draisaitl x matthew tkachuk #leon x matthew

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lostonehero · 2 months

Text

Ok fuck cannon for both series mech tma au

Also mech Martin as a treat

"W-wait." Jonny stopped holding up his hand before Nastya could set the dimension hop.

"The great Jonny d'Ville stuttering? Never thought I would see the day." Nastya rolls her eyes. "What's wrong? You want to get Martin, right?"

"I..." Jonny sighs and looks at Tim and then back to the rest of the crew and eventually Nastya. He fishes out a pair of glasses from his pocket.

"Smarts Jonny." Ivy raised her brow.

Jonny sighs and crosses his arms. "Tim and I have other versions of ourselves in that universe."

"So?" Raphaella quirks her brow. "Extra parts to experiment with."

"Not exactly." Jonny takes a breath. "Any universe or reality doesn't like copies and to remedy that well... we won't be able to stay here." He starts to motion his hands as his tail starts to lash back and forth. "The reality has a way to correct this, and that is to physically fuse myself with my alter, and the same will happen to Tim. I literally have no idea what that will even do."

Brian tilts his head. "So what you're saying that that there is a chance you'll both dissapear?"

"Not exactly, but kind of." Jonny shrugs, removing his glasses. "Eh, it's whatever just wanted to warn you fucks. Tim and I agreed to go through it. We all were already fucked around with the promise of actual death and waking up before, and who knows Martin's world goes through a literal apocalypse so that will be fun."

Tim nods. "We both have bets going on about how it works. I also get to go to a less advanced version of where I'm from. I really want to see what's that like. Also, I saved Bertie, and he got a long life, so I'm honestly fine with a true death."

Raphaella looks at both of them. "If both of you truly die, can I do an autopsy of your bodies to see what came over?"

"Why the fuck not? I don't give a shit I'll be dead." Jonny hums and raises a brow at Ashes. "What?"

"You'll be human." Ashes motions vaguely to his obvious status as not human.

"Huh." Jonny scratches his stubble. "I'll miss my tail if I remember any of it."

Tim snickers. "I'll be fine."

Ivy smirks. "What if your alternate has short hair?" She pauses. "Also, I want earth books."

"I have a new fear." Tim sighs.

Nastya pauses. "Are you sure?"

TS smiles. "I Think They Already Agreed. Bring Me Back A Earth Cat."

"You heard them let's fucking go." Jonny reached out and grabs Tim's hand. "I ain't living for the rest of time without Blackwood."

"Neither I am." Tim nods. "All speed ahead."

Nastya sighs. "This is a terrible idea, but if both of you still remain, I suppose stopping the apocalypse would please Aurora..... oh hmmmm." She puts the ship full throttle, and in an instant, Jonny and Tim vanish.

......

Martin woke up on his back, which honestly is the weirdest way he could wake up second to the alarm on his... he knew the word for the thing, but he couldn't recall it. He barely fumbled to turn off that obnoxious noise. What was a much more pressing manner was the fact his body was wrong, well correct but that was wrong. He can't recall when he had normal legs and feet... he could, but he would much rather forget the time before the good doctor got her hands on him. He was abnormal for a mechanism since his mechanism was organic in nature his lower half was that of a spider. Of course, he didn't hate it he wanted something different after that.

Ok, at the time, he thought himself a monster and tried to kill himself a multitude of times. He grew out of it. Obviously, it would have been a bleak eternity otherwise. He had a vague feeling of where he was, but the word peaches and worms came to mind. He kind of knew what that meant, but he was more so annoyed that this afterlife was basically before he became a mech. He had to figure out what he was doing.

Maybe if he went too... uh oh right the Magnus Institute, that's when he worked a normal job on earth. This was earth he hoped it wasn't in his head that this was some elaborate death dream because that would be a first. He should try to recall more of this if he is ever going to get through this weird afterlife. He hoped it was an afterlife because if not it meant that he wasn't dead, and he didn't want to do that without Jonny and Gunpowder Tim, and of course, the rest of the crew.

He got showered after figuring out the old-fashioned shower and got dressed in familiar clothes he didn't want to remember. He knew he had to remember, but he really didn't want to. He knew how this world worked. Public transport was easy, and soon, he arrived at the very institute that set everything in motion. What's that saying like a hover bike? Or a bicycle? He will remember what to do and go through the motions.

"You're late." A pretentious pompous voice sneered at Martin.

Martin paused, staring at the man studying him, and he reminded him of Jonny, and a name spilled from his lips. "Jon?"

"Did you hit your head on your way here? Of course I'm Jon." The short man shoved a stack of papers in his arms. "Get through these and try not to fall behind."

Martin frowns and takes the stack of statements. He knew they were statements. Some real some fake, and he had an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach that this wasn't the afterlife. He sat at his desk and stared at a computer, which he didn't recall the password for, and just started to read. He couldn't think about who he saw by him.

"Geez Marto, you ok?" That was Tim, not gunpowder, but Stoker. He was rubbing his eyes, but it was still him.

Martin knew the moment he saw her not corrupted by a thing that wore her skin poorly he might add he knew he wasn't in the afterlife and his death was a fucking lie. He wanted his final death with the rest of them. Did they also wake up before they became? Before the doctor got a hold of them? He takes a breath and sighs. "I'm fine." He forced himself to say. He noticed Tim was bleeding around his eyes. He chose to get up and wet some napkins to help.

"Tim, you really should see a doctor for that." Sasha frowns.

"I'm fine it's probably from my contacts. I'll wear my glasses, and the problem should clear up." Tim gives finger guns as his eyes water.

Martin sighs. "Tim, you're crying."

"Not emotionally." Tim snickers at his joke. "I'm fine. I probably just need rest and to get new contacts." His eyes stop watering after a moment, but it doesn't stop him from rubbing them like they ached.

Martin wasn't convinced, but he knew better than to push it normally got him shot or someone crying in his arms. He knew that didn't matter here. This place wasn't.... he wasn't home. "I'll make some tea for everyone."

"Thank you, Martin." Tim smiles as he rubs his eyes.

"Amazing as always." Sasha smiles.

Martin nodded and distracted himself with making tea. It didn't last long enough as he gave out the tea. He stepped into Jon's office, and he raised a brow at the scene he walked into. Jon was sitting on his knees in a chair not built for that position. "I made you some tea."

Jon nods, rubbing at his chest. "Right."

Martin paused and decided to push his luck. "Why are you sitting like that?"

Jon scowls and takes his mug of tea, and takes a sip. "My lower back aches, and it is worse if I sit normally. My painkillers haven't kicked in."

"Ah, alright, just be careful, alright." Martin smiles, hoping he was acting enough like he did before.

.....

Tim groans as he stares at the bottle of eye drops the doctor gave him. It did literally nothing. His eyes ached and burned, and no matter what he did, the pain wouldn't go away. It's been two weeks, and it's only gotten worse, and he hasn't been able to do anything to relieve it.

He used the heels of his hand and pressed them into his eyes for any sort of relief that wouldn't come. Doctors couldn't find anything wrong and called him basically crazy because there was nothing wrong with his eyes. He knew something was wrong. He knew something was happening.

Tim was desperate. If the eye pain wasn't enough, he was starting to have weird dreams of a man with mechanical eyes. They would talk, and Gunpowder, the other guy picked that name. Don't ask him why it suited him. The memories... no dreams, he keeps having to correct himself. The dreams Gunpowder tells him are his memories, and he apologizes for them all the time. At one point, these memories became his own, but the only thing it did was make Gunpowder more solid in his mind.

Tim liked Gunpowder he was kind and a bit odd, but he didn't feel alone. He hasn't felt seen or known since his brother. Fuck he really missed Danny.

"You have his memories."

Tim nearly fell backward. That was Gunpowder, but he was awake if the pain was anything to say about that. His eyes scanned the small bathroom, searching for the source of the voice, but he didn't see anything. Maybe he was hearing things. The statements were probably getting to him.

Tim sighs and shuts the lights off, and heads to the couch. He just needed to sleep, that's all. Sleep came quickly these days, and he woke up not in Gunpowder's memories but to a futuristic bedroom. He knew this place from some more steamy memories from Gunpowder. Speaking of him, he was lounging in the bed holding a bottle that no longer had labels.

Gunpowder flicked his mechanical eyes to glance at Tim. His long hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and a pair of goggles was around his neck. He held up the bottle. "Shit doesn't do much in here but wants some?"

Tim shook his head as he approached and sat on the edge of the bed. "Did you say something?"

"When you started to spiral? Yeah." Gunpowder sits up, putting the bottle aside. "I'm not as well versed in this theoretical nonesense as Jonny is, but I think it's almost complete." He reached his hand out, and Tim allowed him to grab it. "Soon we'll be together awake and asleep, probably when my eyes finally form. Again, sorry about the pain."

"I don't think I'm able to believe you." Tim had that sinking feeling of dread that he knew Gunpowder was right. "Why?"

"We wanted to save our third to complete us." Gunpowder pulls his hand away. "Eternity isn't great when you're missing someone that helps complete you. We were also promised an apocalypse, and that did sound fun."

"Love is a good reason." Tim wanted to reach out again but refrained. "So would you be able to take over like a ghost?"

Gunpowder laughs. "I ain't no ghost, but maybe again, Jonny knows more about this bullshit than I do."

Tim nods and gets up approaching the door.

"Are you sure?"

"If what you say is true, I might as well know more about you." Tim opened the door and vanished into memories that weren't his own.

Gunpowder picked the bottle up again and sighed. "I wonder if Jonny is having a good time."

.....

Jon felt even worse, he however did not go to the doctor even at Martin insistent, he was acting odd more so than normal, and it made his work even worse. He stripped off his shirt and pants, then finally his binder and groans. The red spot on his lower back right on his tailbone he could pass off as bug bite, now ballooned into a throbbing red mass that was completely solid to the touch.

He really wanted to keep ignoring it, but he felt something move under his skin, and it scared him half to death. Every part of him felt wrong, to his privates they were extra sensitive more so then when he started T to his ears that were bright red and painful, to his head that he can feel growing bumps on his head. The worst of it was his chest, his heart was constantly beating erratically, and he could swear he heard a ticking like a metronome in his chest. Everything was wrong, and yet he just crawled into his bed.

No to Jon, the worst part were these dreams that were nothing but fiction, and this Jonny character was a idiot, a violent obnoxious idiot. Jonny talked to him. He purposely argued with him and teased him. That ass was crude and didn't have a fucking care in the world the complete opposite of himself. He was some vile creature that probably spawned from the statements he read.

Jon bit down on his pillow, he moved wrong, and his sensitive privates sent nerves and sparks through his body. He was asexual he shouldn't have these desires, and he shouldn't be thinking about his coworkers in this matter. Why the fuck was Martin a spider creature it scared him but also thrilled him and he hated these thoughts. Tim was mostly the same, but his hair was long, and his eyes were machines. He blamed Jonny for all of this. But he wasn't real his mind just wanted someone to blame.

That obnoxious crazed laughter rang in Jon's ears. He groaned, spitting out his pillow. "Leave me alone, you annoying hallucination." That only earned him harder laughter. He gave a frustrated yell into his pillow. He refused to listen to the just jerk off from Jonny and grabbed sleeping pills from his draw, and hoped for a dreamless sleep, which he knew was futile. He kept seeing memories that weren't his of some nonesense syfy fan wet dream. Jonny wasn't real, and what he saw wasn't real either.

.......

Sasha moved closer to Tim. "Eyes still bothering you?" She motions to his the dark sunglasses you couldn't see his eyes through.

Tim nods. "Yeah, doctors aren't helping. They feel like they're going to pop." He sighs. "Do you know what's up with boss man?"

Sasha shrugs. "I was going to ask about Martin. He seems more lost than normal, and he seems less jumpy but even more depressed? I don't know he keeps avoiding me every time I try to press."

"I can talk to him if you talk to Jon about his attitude. I watched him yell at Martin first 10 minutes, and Martin just took it with a smile like he didn't care." Tim frowns, rubbing his eyes his vision was getting blurry, and he could feel something wet drip down from his face.

"Eye drops first, you're crying again, and it's not clear." Sasha hands him a tissue. "I'll go talk to Jon."

"You're the best, Sasha." Tim smiles and rushes off to the bathroom. He barely makes it inside when his vision goes dark. He can only whimper in shock as fresh pain blooms where his eyes should be. A wet substance drips down his cheeks, and he barely registers hands on his shoulder, guiding him to sit on the ground.

Soft hands carefully remove the black glasses and a soft curse on his lips from a voice Tim knows, but he can't focus or see who said that. He could feel a wet cloth wipe whatever was on his face.

"Tim, you gotta breathe." That was Gunpowder. He sounded so clear, like he was right next to him. "I know it hurts, but you have to let the machines build themselves. It's actually really neat to watch."

The soft hands were done cleaning his face as he let out a sigh at the loss of touch. And a flash of light burned, and then he heard a soft click like that of a camera and a softer moving of machines like a soft roll. His vision came back way too fast, and suddenly, it was too perfect, and he saw too much. He saw a familiar sweater connected to a man leaning over him. "M-martin?" Of course it was Martin his hands were soft... he didn't know why he thought of them like a cat's paw.

"Blackwood!" Gunpowder gasps.

Martin takes the spoiled hand towel and puts it in his back pocket. "Tim, can you focus on me?"

The soft whirl of machines and Tim was looking at Martin. "What happened?" He could see the hand towel and had a few theories on what the stains were.

Martin smiles softly, and Tim feels calmer.

"Feels safe into the den of the spider." Gunpowder hums. "Do you mind if I just uh..."

Tim barely registered what happened until he was in the spot where Gunpowder was. He saw his body move without him, and he just watched unable to process until it clicked what had happened. "Oh." He watches Martin tilt his head as Gunpowder looks up at him, then he feels a stinging pain as Martin hits them.

Gunpowder holds his cheek and looks to Tim, realizing they both felt it.

Martin takes a breath. "You didn't heed any of my warnings."

Gunpowder smiles staring up at Martin.

Martin falters, and he moves and sits down next to him on the bathroom floor. "Is...?"

"Yeah, Tim's here." Gunpowder hums. "Don't think he made the connection yet."

"That is a given." Martin pulls his knees up. "I haven't.... yaknow, and I'm worried when I do..."

"You won't be able to hide." Gunpowder nods and reaches out to Martin. "Aha, he made the connection."

Martin smiles softly, interlocking his fingers with Tim. "Yeah, a lot of shit happened. Welcome to the madness of it."

"Oh, we're well past madness and circled back round to sanity." Gunpowder chuckles, taking the glasses back. "Talk later?"

Martin nods and watches Tim return to his body. "Are you ok?"

Tim blinks. Well, he thinks he blinks, but he's pretty sure he doesn't have eyelids anymore. "I uh... I think so." He paused. "So where's the spider parts? Don't tell me my shared memories and adult fantasies are a lie."

Martin chuckles. "Oh, you're both horrible. Ask Gunpowder, you ass." He gets up and holds out his hand. "Come on, we have to get back to work before Jon throws another fit."

Tim nods, getting up with Martin's help. "Seriously though, where are the spider bits?"

"I don't actually know, and I don't want to test dying to see if they come back." Martin sighs.

"Ah, fair enough." Tim continues to hold Martin's hand. "I uh...you know what happens..."

Martin frowns. "Tim, for me, it's been well over a few thousand years. My memory isn't perfect. I remember what my mind thinks are the important bits, but I've really tried to forget this happened. The ending isn't a good one." He sighs. "We can talk after work, in the tunnels."

"Tunnels?" Tim raised his brow following Martin, never unlocking their hands.

......

Martin pulled Tim back as emts rushed out with a stretcher. "Who got hurt?"

Sasha rushed over. "I went to check on Jon, and he... he was bleeding, and he was barely breathing. I called the ambulance, and they rushed him to the hospital."

Tim frowns. "Is he ok?"

"I don't know." Sasha gives a soft gasp as Martin pulls her into a hug.

"Hey, you did the right thing. Jon will be fine." Martin smiles softly. "We can visit him after our shift. I'm sure he wouldn't mind visitors."

Sasha hugs him back. "You're right. You're right. He probably knew something was wrong and refused to see a doctor."

Tim sighs. "That does sound like Jon." He paused for a moment. "I, uh yeah, back to work."

Sasha nods, wiping her eyes and pulling away from Martin. "I'm sure he'll appreciate a cleaner archive when he gets back."

Martin nods. "Of course, that sounds great." He grabs Tim's arm. "Tim and I can grab some boxies and start moving things around."

"Oh, that's great." Sasha smiles, watching them leave.

.....

"Why did you grab me?" Tim raised his brow.

"So I think I know what happened to Jon." Martin frowns.

Tim paused, and his demeanor changed, and he sags his shoulders. "Oh, this is not going to be good."

"No, it's not." Martin sighs. "Fuck everything has changed now."

"So, did we do it?" Gunpowder raised his brow.

Martin snickers. "Yeah, not even close. We both know that gods won't take this lying down even if it's Jonny."

"Eh, worth a shot." Gunpowder shrugs. "Blackwood has told me enough to know what Jon ends up as I'll explain later."

.....

Elias adjusts his tie and smiles, looking over his archivist. The unfortunate nature of the Flesh and Stranger working together does have this outcome. Of course, he can pull all the strings needed to have this little incident swept under the rug and tied in a neat bow. He smiles softly, watching him wake up. "Are you alright, Jonathan? You've given us all quite the scare." He stops seeing a scowl that isn't Jon's normal one on his lips.

Jonny's mouth felt like it was full of cotton, and his head was fuzzy, and Jon's nagging didn't exactly help him either. His gaze moved up to the man in a suit. He looked like a prick, an obnoxious wealthy prick. Jon was yelling at him that's his boss and don't fuck this up. Of course he wouldn't fuck this up he knew how to act proper and can copy Jon's boring ass. If he could just focus.

"Jonathan, are you alright? You may have hit your head on the way down. You're on some painkillers." Elias smiles, leaning over him.

Jonny furrows his brows. He hated painkillers and always took the fun out of pain and violence. "...fuzzy..." He managed to mumble. His tolerance to painkillers was null and void due to his affection for actual pain. Couldn't he just get Jon's tolerance and not just the fun new parts to explore. He scowls again at the man above his bed, he wanted to rip that smile off his face.

Elias chuckles softly. "Painkillers will do that, and you're not even on that heavy of a dose. I'm sure your coworkers will be visiting you soon. Hopefully, you'll feel better by then."

Jonny grits his teeth. He had a few choice words for that pompous ass.

"You can't kill him." Jon looked drowsy floating next to him.

At least Jonny wasn't the only one suffering in this cushioned hell. He huffs and turns his head.

Jon chuckles. "Don't be mad. You've got control." He was very out of it. He felt the same effects Jonny was. "What's.... what is uh...." He blinks, unable to form a coherent thought.

Jonny huffs and can't fight the feeling of sleep overtaking him.

......

"So Gunpowder Tim cut a bloody path...." Jonny stops, noticing that his head finally felt clear enough and reciting old ballads of his friends wasn't needed. He looked down at Jon, who was staring at him. He floated down to lay next to Jon. "What's with that look? I already explained our situation to you at nauseum."

Jon scowls, looking away. He then makes a vague motion, unable to explain why he suddenly felt wrong.

Jonny raised his brow. "You've got my dick. Ain't you special."

Jon scoffs, but his face is turning red because he feels that is true. "No..." He huffs.

Jonny paused, watching Jon get frustrated. He didn't feel like sharing in that. He learned early in that they shared emotions, and he had to get used to feeling things that weren't his own. It was honestly worse than Nastya, making him feel Aurora emotions. "I can tell you."

Jon felt himself be pushed out from his body as Jonny took control. He scowls but sighs, watching and feeling Jonny's own emotions. "So? What's wrong with m- us?"

Jonny scowls. "They cut off my fucking tail! It's a fucking bitch to grow that back." He raised his ands and feels around his forehead. "Good, they didn't cut them too short. Actually, I like them short, so this isn't an issue... I'm narrating for you Jon be grateful."

Jon raised his brow. "You can't hear my thoughts?"

"Can you hear mine?" Jonny spits back.

"Fair point." Jon sighs. "Are we ok?"

"Fuck if I know. Everything is new, raw, and sensitive. My dicks never been this fucked before." Jonny growls as he is forced back out by Jon.

"D-Dont do that." Jon pulls the blanket over his body.

Jonny shrugs, not understanding Jon. "Whatever, we just have to adjust." He pauses for a moment, pointing at Jon. "This is earth, right?"

"Yes?" Jon raised his brow.

"Tim and Blackwood always referred to me as a cowboy. What's a cow? I don't think I've ever seen an earth cow."

Jon blinks. "But you have parts like a bull."

"Wait, I thought it was called cows." Jonny returned a confused look.

Jon shakes his head. "Alien, right, you're an alien. You don't know human er earth animals. Cows don't have sharp teeth like you, but uh, bulls are basically male cows, but cows are the general term used."

"Can I see what they look like?" Jonny floated to lay next to Jon.

"Yeah, when I get my phone." Jon paused. "Are you upset I wasn't born a man?"

"Why would I care? You've got my dick now, and I have a new hole to play with. This is a win for me." Jonny shrugs and raised his brow feeling relief pour from Jon.

"Thank you." Jon says quietly.

"Ok?" Jonny shrugs floating to look around the hospital room.

......

Sasha slams on the breaks. "Tim what the fuck."

Tim's eyes clicked and whirled. He was told only he could hear this by Gunpowder. Well, both can hear since they share a body. He reaches for his glasses and realizes he took them off because his ears were bothering him. He could feel the look from Gunpowder and Martin on him. "It's a long story."

Sasha rocketed to a spot to park, and she twisted her body to the back seat. "Tim explain now!"

Martin bites his lip and blurts out. "It's my fault. I'm supposed to be dead, both me and Gunpowder. Promised an end to eternity, and it was a farce and I'm back here like this, and I really tried to forget about this part of my life. I mean for fucks sake you die and get replaced Sasha and none of us notice for a year because of how it worked. Tim dies in an explosion, destroying the circus, and that isn't to mention the fucked up paranoia from Jon and extreme levels of fucked up creatures that I mean now I can look back at and laugh but you can't you're mortal. I mean, these are fear gods, so I mean they will get to you eventually."

Gunpowder grabs Martin's hand. "Martin, that's enough. The only reason Jonny knew about my past was because he was playing soldier and was with me. You don't have to..." He stops as Martin waves him off.

"No, it's fine. Tim and Sasha deserve to know." Martin sighs. "I'll tell you what I can remember it has been a few thousand years since I've been through this."

.....

Sasha swallows. "I believe you."

Martin blinks. "Why?"

"I've had a bad feeling, and I knew Gertrude didn't just go missing." Sasha then points to Tim. "Also look at his fucking eyes Martin that's pretty good evidence."

Gunpowder nods.

Martin gives a nervous smile. "I'm sorry I've gotten used to things over the years. I like Tim's eyes."

"Yeah, yeah, don't boast his ego." Sasha puts her seat belt back on. "So keep your glasses on Tim. We're going to visit Jon if the same thing happened to him like you."

"It's equally as possible. Jon worked himself into a delusional state and just hurt himself." Martin shrugs.

Tim blinks back in control. "That's really dark."

"No, no, Martin has a point." Sasha starts the car again. "Remember that incident in research."

"I tried to forget, but I see your point." Tim sighs, putting his glasses back on.

Martin sighs. "Hopefully that isn't the case."

.....

Jon shifted uncomfortably as he sat up. Jonny wasn't lying. The tail thing was incredibly uncomfortable and annoying. He stared at the hospital food in front of him and was told he couldn't leave till tomorrow. He hated hospital food, and he hated hospitals.

"Stop pouting." Jonny rolls his eyes. "I can feel your emotions and pouting won't get you nowhere."

"Oh, then what can I do? Please enlighten me." Jon scowls taking a bite of his peas.

"For one, actually eat. How the fuck are you in such shit condition? Do you even know what fun is?" Jonny shook his head. "You can't do shit without meat on your bones, and you look half starved. You're a fucking disaster."

Jon continues to scowl, not saying a word.

The door opens to his room.

"Blackwood!" Jonny floats through him, trying to tackle him. "Fuck."

Martin smiles softly as Tim and Sasha follow behind him. "We wanted to make sure you're ok."

"You gave me a scare, Jon." Sasha crosses her arms. "You need to learn how to take a break, or at least see a doctor."

Tim was odd wearing sunglasses that completely hid his eyes, but he knew Tim was having trouble with his eyes. "You look awful."

Jon can't help but give a soft smile. "Just wasn't paying attention and hit my head." He motions to the bandages around his head and ears.

"Don't lie to Blackwood. That man can see through any lie you spit." Jonny crosses his arms. "Besides, I bet you control of my choosing that Gunpowder is in your Tim."

Jon ignores him. "Ah you didn't have to bring me anything."

Martin smiles softly as he pulls out a chocolate slice of cake. "It's just some chocolate cake. I mean, you don't have to have it..." He stops as Jon's demeanor changes in an instant as he pushes his food aside.

Jon was forced out and watched Jonny make grabby hands.

"Give it here, Blackwood." Jonny huffs. "Don't you fucking tempt me."

Martin's expression changed, and Jon could feel a shiver down his back. "You and your sweet tooth." He tisks, placing the slice down.

Jonny grabs the container. "Fuck you." He huffs and has enough decency to use a fork. "Your fucking lucky I have to fix this body or I would end you."

Jon watches Tim snicker. "You lost height!" His snickers turn to giggles.

"Piss off." Jonny scoffs.

Sasha raised her brow. "How did you know the cake would work?"

"d'Ville only has one craving he can't quit, and it ain't cigarettes." Gunpowder smirks, taking off his glasses, revealing his mechanical eyes.

Jonny scowls. "Oh fuck you. I don't deny myself pleasures like you."

"I have manners you lack." Tim spits back.

Martin chuckles and has a glint in his eyes and a sinister smile that again Jon can't tear his eyes from. "Now, both of you, that's enough." He moves closer and leans over Jonny. "How about you behave and finish all of your food, and maybe I'll convince the doctors to let you leave early?"

Jon can feel the tug, no the crashing wave of desire, and just pure love spill from Jonny, and if they had his tail, it would be wagging like a dog.

Jonny, for his part, nods eagerly. "It would be faster if you fed me." He purrs back.

Martin steps back. "Don't push your luck. I'm mad at you."

In a split second, that emotion was gone, replaced with annoyance. Jon had to shake his head from the whiplash.

"We agreed!" Jonny huffs stuffing his face with food. "It's not like you were there with your bleeding heart. You weren't there, I woke up after that bar in that... look, I'm not having this conversation."

Jon could feel a bubble of an emotion, one that he knew should leave unspoken. He remains quiet watching Martin.

Martin gaze didn't break, let alone change. He crosses his arms. "Did you do the same?"

Jonny swallows his final bite. "I can't say I wanted to change it, so I didn't."

Martin's gaze seems to finally soften. "Good, he didn't deserve forgiveness." He reached out and pat Jonny's shoulder. "That's my cowboy." He pauses. "What's with the frown?"

"They cut off my tail." Jonny sounded honest and small.

Jon was taken aback.

"I never said humanity was a kind species." Martin brushes a stray piece of hair out of Jonny's face. "It will grow back."

"Not the point." Jonny sighs. "How's your former mortal." His gaze shifted to Tim.

"Probably better than yours with the adjustment." Gunpowder slides his glasses back on. "You look like shit."

"Not my fault." Jonny mutters.

"Never said it was." Gunpowder muses. "Maybe you shouldn't have asked Martin for his story."

Martin rolls his eyes. "Just because you're bitter doesn't mean you get to drag me into this argument again." He walks by Sasha, grabbing her arm. "Would you like to hear more while they complain?"

Sasha nods. "Sure, why not." She follows Martin out of the room as he shuts the door behind him.

Gunpowder frowns. "Don't give me that look. I already got an earful from him, and to be fair, he warned both of us to wait. Now, why do you think this didn't happen the first time?"

"Aren't you just full of dumb questions." Jonny adjusts his glasses. "They were already dead and gone by the time we crossed the first time. This place was fine. I dunno Blackwood said it's been. I dunno fifty years since it ended and started again." He raised his brow at something Tim couldn't see. "You do know what apocalypse means, right? Right well that happened, and you died before I came here the first time."

Gunpowder waves his hand. "Jonny, stop, we both know what happened in the end. They don't know the full truth yet, neither of them."

Jonny frowns and stares at Tim. "How long do you think it will take till being the good guy gets old?"

"Who knows? We've never tried it." Gunpowder shrugs. "You should hold off on being honest about this world, as much as I know you like your stories and songs. Unless you want to deal with Jon."

Jonny waves him off. "Whatever, it doesn't matter now he'll learn as I will annoyingly to see his memories. Just let me figure this out, and as much as I hate to see you two on good terms compared to my situation. Just wait."

For what, Jon had no idea, but this Gunpodwer did, who nodded.

"Seriously though, figure something out with this Jon. You seriously look worse than when we were starving, as a competition." Gunpowder sighs. "Blackwood..." He looks through the door. "Yeah, he already convinced the doctors and nurses to let you go, and they are on their way. Enjoy your new home, alone." He smirks as he leaves.

Jon was flung back into his body, feeling Jonny fuming, but the other man was uncharacteristic silent. He had to think this over and what this actually meant. So he died the first time, but when and how? Before or after the apocalypse?

.......

He wasn't truly alone, not anymore. Jon sunk into his bed and opened his phone. "How did Martin even convince them to let me leave?"

"He's got a way of trapping people making them do what he wants." Jonny hums. "Now, show me a picture of a cow."

Jon wanted to press, but he quickly learned pleasing Jonny was the best way to get answers. He pulled up a picture of a cow and a bull and held it up.

Jonny was quiet studying the creatures he saw. He broke into a wide grin. "They look cute, don't they. Good cows."

Jon hums and sighs. "You said Martin told you what happens to this world. What happens? Why did he become one of you? What are you guys?"

Jonny frowns. "I rather not feel your stupid emotions." He scratches behind his ear. "You won't let this go. However, Blackwood warned me you were insistent, so I might as well spin you a tale." Suddenly, a harmonica appeared in his hands. "A tragic fate of star-crossed lovers doomed by forces beyond their control, and a man turned to a monster that was left in the ruins."

Jon listened to the haunting story on a soft melody. He learned how his coworkers, no his friends, died. How he roamed the wastelands the fears as the apocalypse he caused reigned, how Martin stayed by his side even though he caused this by being tricked. The story ended in a sharp blade.

Jonny stopped. "And you were no more as the pancoption crumbled the archive now, just a man taking his final breath. An ending driven by a man afraid of death and so willing to please a god who didn't care for him as nothing more than a tool. Blackwood crushed but was not dead. A familiar doctor just happened to be passing by the rubble. She wanted to try something new, just not machines anymore, something animalistic, something new. And so Blackwood became a monster a first of his kind." He stretches. "Immortality such a boring goal, isn't it? You would think you would want something more interesting."

Jon was speechless he couldn't string together thoughts.

Jonny frowns, feeling the rush of emotions. "Look..." He swallows and feels tears drip down his face. He was frustrated that he couldn't stop this. He hated emotions, and he hated being honest to himself, but Jon still viewed himself as mortal, and he won't be raw without his partners. He floated down beside Jon and let him cry. He couldn't stop it. The rush of emotions overwhelmed him.

Jon finally spoke. "How do I stop it?"

"Fuck if I know. I wasn't here. I heard the story from Blackwood." Jonny was purposely looking away from him. "You have to ask him, but we promised to play the good guys this time around, or well, until it gets boring."

"We're going to stop this." Jon tried to muster confidence he didn't have.

Jonny just sighs. "Go to bed. Watch some of my memories. If you don't start trying to fix your body, I will do it by force."

Jon pulls his blanket up and frowns. He falls into an unsteady sleep.

......

Elias raised his brow, watching his archivist return to work. "Jonathan, I did tell you to take time to rest after yesterday." He had a smile and a silver tongue.

Jonny scoffs. "He's worse sober."

Jon smiles nervously. "I'm fine, Elias." He adjusts his hat covering his new sensitive ears. His tail had already started to grow back, and Jonny said it's a side effect of immortality, which Jon didn't believe in. It's supposed to be much longer than a cow's tail and semi prehensile. He wanted to test it but knew better than to try anything in public.

Elias frowns. "Now, Jon, I don't need you working yourself sick again." He knew the effects of the stranger and the flesh it probably hasn't hit the man yet, and he didn't want him breaking down having him explain the truth.

Jon frowns. "I'm fine, Elias. I know how to take care of myself. I'm going to get back to work."

Elias frowns, crossing his arms and watching Jon rush off to the archives . He raises his brow, and seeing the start of a tail, he is informed that it is cut off. It shouldn't be growing back this fast. He had a few connections to pull to get more information. He had no desire to pick another archivist nor start again.

......

"We should kill him." Jonny floats next to Jon, his tail lazily flicking behind him.

"Elias is my boss. I'm not going to kill him." Jon scowls as he hears Tim snickers. "Tim, that's enough."

Tim hums, Jon can see his hair is curling and is getting lighter than the black he has. "I don't think so, bossman. We think it's quite hilarious Jonny's on a leash."

Jon was pushed out as Jonny took control. "Oh go fuck yourself you fucking cunt." Jonny stomps off to Jon's office making it a point to slam the door.

Martin snickers from the entrance and refrains from explaining Elias can see them. Oh, that would be hilarious. Does he know Jon and Jonny are sharing a body, or does he think that the fears changed Jon? Either way, things have changed, and he wants to see Elias... no Jonah squirm with the unpredictability. Martin will force him to realize immortality is not worth it, and death is a gift. He silently walks to his desk and takes a seat.

"Enjoying the show?" Tim smirks. "We are."

"Oh, I'm enjoying something else." Martin smiles back.

"Already knitting a web, I see." Gunpowder nods. "I always enjoy the finished project."

Martin taps his fingers against his desk. "You know I think it's not a Web I rather not get mixed up with that particular fear I think I can recall the avatar is kind of a right bitch."

"Really? You have to explain the fear thing better because some of them just sound fun or fun to kill." Gunpowder smirks.

"Later, and Sasha already made a list." Martin points to Sasha sipping her coffee.

"You two share a body. Did you not pay attention when Tim was reading it?" Sasha raised her brow.

Tim huffs. "I couldn't figure out how to turn off the Xray vision on these damn eyes until like an hour before I slept." He had a slight blush on his cheeks. "Then the damn things wouldn't stop focusing on objects miles away."

Gunpowder took back control. "To be fair, I still have trouble controlling them. Human biology and mechanical parts tend to fight until they get into a rhythm. Also, I have like a million years of experience, and Tim does not."

Sasha frowns. "That sounds actually awful. Does Jonny have these problems?"

Gunpowder shrugs. "He never complains, and if he dislikes something, he's quite vocal. I think he uses the ticking as a metronome."

Martin nods. "As boney as he is, he's very nice to sleep too. The ticking is quite soothing." He sighs. "Granted, I won't be able to enjoy any of that for a long while, I reckon."

"Shit, I remembered that this isn't a desert planet." Gunpowder pauses. "Jonnys going to be a little bitch."

"Why?" Sasha raised her brow.

"Jonny's originally from a mostly desert planet, so his tail ears and horns were basically made to keep him cool. Even the nights were hot, so he doesn't exactly have any defenses against the cold, and he makes his complaints known as Gunpowder said." Martin hums. "Although he loves the snow and rain."

"We never said the man made sense." Gunpowder shrugs, letting Tim back in control.

Sasha tilts her head. "What was the planet like that you're from?"

"Gunpowder is from the earth of a different dimension." Tim taps his pen against his desk and adjusts his glasses. "He did however blow up the moon."

"Now you're just fucking with me." Sasha rolls her eyes and heads back to her desk.

Martin chuckles. "Don't feel bad about it. In this time, we've barely had any people on the moon."

"See, I told you!" Tim huffs. "He wouldn't listen to me or the facts I provided."

"Tim, you have to understand where we're coming from. We lived on a spaceship." Martin hums heading to his desk to start working.

Tim sighs. "Still annoying."

.....

Martin stares at the bloody fingernails in the sink. He knew his luck was running out. His body wasn't going to wait till his first death. He could feel how tight his skin felt and how it was hard to walk to breathe. He wasn't scared to become what he was supposed to be, but it would make this so much harder. He flexed his hand, seeing the black claw nails start to poke through his flesh. He doesn't truly care he made peace ages ago with what the doctor made him.

Elias watched Martin with a curious gaze. He can feel the Beholder use his eyes to watch intently. He had a feeling in his gut something changed something twisted in the mere fabric of reality. He hasn't even checked on Jon since he arrived this morning, and the Beholder agreed that something more interesting was happening. Martin was unassuming and predictable, but this was new, and he wanted to know why. He wasn't an avatar, and that also fueled his curiosity. How is he changing without one of the fears?

Martin rubbed his eyes and sighed. He had time, and he had time to prepare. He wanted Jonny. He just wanted that soft ticking, Gunpowder could soothe his anxieties, but Jonny was a comfort. Sure, the man was brash rude and a devil, but he was his, and that was enough. Gunpowder wouldn't touch him till Tim was fully on board with him, and Martin respected that. Hell he was fucking happy with that. Jonny, however, was a mystery, Jon was tighter lipped, and he knew how long it took for Jon to even understand his emotions, let alone actually relie on others.

Martin gathered his fingernails from the sink and threw them out with a sigh. Maybe he could go to artifact storage to slow things. Well, that has just a likely chance to kill him. He doesn't care. Maybe he could convince Gunpowder and Tim to head to the tunnels properly. He finished washing his hands, not even flinching at the exposed nerves.

Elias's gaze intensified as he watched Tim enter the bathroom. More importantly, he removed his sunglasses, revealing new eyes. When did he get surgery? More importantly, how can he still see? He shut his eyes, and he was seeing from Tim's eyes.

Tim scratched his chin. "Martin, you alright?"

Elias saw a man in the mirror that wasn't Tim.

Martin sighs. "I'm fine." He stretches. "Just a bit achey, what about you?"

"I'm fine." Tim crosses his arms. "Ok, maybe not entirely fine, but I'm getting used to it."

The man in the mirror that wasn't Tim spoke and Elias could hear him.

"I know my scars aren't pretty, and I'm sorry." The not Tim sighs.

Tim shook his head. "Dude, I said it's fine." He turns back to Martin. "I'm more peeved about the hair than I am about the scars, and I still haven't agreed to grow it out."

Not Tim huffs.

Martin chuckles. "The two colors look good together, and if you don't grow it out, what else am I supposed to grab?"

Tim swallows, and Elias sees him in the mirror, and he figured it out that this not Tim was in control.

"Oh, don't tease the man. He doesn't understand the fun a simple act can do. Let alone one with those..." Not Tim stops staring at Martin's hand. "When?"

Martin huffs. "Gunpowder, it's fine. You know how you can't hide what the good doctor does to you. I'm fine. I just feel a bit stiff and uncomfortable, but it will pass."

Not Tim or Gunpowder, ridiculous name if you asked Elias. He smiles softly.

"Fuck the waiting, from what I've seen its going to be brutal and he shouldn't be alone..." Tim was speaking out loud now. "He shouldn't have to go through this by him....self... ah, you ass."

Martin raised his brow with a soft smile. "I appreciate the offer, Tim, but you're not exactly desensitized enough for my liking."

Tim huffs. "Then Gunpowder will watch and be out. You don't deserve to be alone through this. I know you have an issue with that, I uh well, Gunpowder knows, and I saw the memory."

"Fine, if you insist." Martin paused, and Elias shivers with that look. "I've shared things with Gunpowder in secret. I don't want you to share with anyone." He grabs Tim's shirt. "Understand?"

Tim swallows and nods.

Martin smiles again as his features soften. "Good, I'll come by your flat tonight."

Tim watches Martin leave with a shudder. Elias doesn't leave yet.

"I warned you about being caught in Blackwood's web. You're not close enough with him to get comfortable." Gunpowder clicks his tongue. "He's not the man you knew, so please don't underestimate him. I would rather not die before Jonny does. We've got a bet going on."

Tim swallows and slides the dark sunglasses back on, and Elias is shocked to see his vision didn't change in the slightest. "He's still a good person."

"That's... well, none of us are good." Gunpowder responds dryly. "It comes with the territory."

Tim didn't like that answer, but he remained quiet as Elias came back to himself. He had a lot to think about.

......

"At least you know how to tell a story." Jonny responds with a bored tone. "These statements still suck, I still suggest we burn the entire place down."

Jon scowls. "No." He stretches and pulls out the used tape. "Can you think of anything that doesn't involve violence.... or sex." He gives a glare.

"Now you're just plain boring." Jonny raised his brow. "Being serious all the time must be fucking exhausting."

Jon sputters. "Just because I'm not some guy who thinks he's immortal and some sex pest doesn't mean anything."

"I don't care what you think of me." Jonny stares directly at Jon. "We are stuck together for the rest of time, and whatever comes after."

Jon scowls. "I won't devolve to be on your level."

Jonny rolls his eyes. "I don't care."

Jon huffs and leaves his office.

"Jon, you ok?" Sasha smiles softly.

Jon stops and sighs. "I'm fine, just getting used to an unfortunate roommate."

"That's one way to call it." Tim mutters.

"You two should try getting along." Sasha hums. "You'll be stuck together forever, I guess. I think it would suck if you two were stuck together fighting for all of that."

Jon scowls. "Oh, he's a right ass only cares about violence and sex. He's nothing but a pest, and I abhor the fact that I have to share my own body with him."

"Oh piss off." Jonny huffs.

Gunpowder sighs. "His attitude comes with his age. He is the oldest of us besides the doctor, but we don't know about her, though, really." He kicks his feet up. "Jonny, I know you're listening. You should be cautious he's going to see memories that you've forgotten. Funny how the mind works even if we forget they still exist in there, just waiting for a trigger to pull them free."

Jon expected Jonny to kick him out and take control, but he felt fear grip his heart that no longer beat. He swallows the dread that wasn't his and doesn't look at Jonny. "I will keep that in mind for when I sleep."

The conversation dies as Jon leaves as the day has ended, and he doesn't want to linger.

.......

The rusty hinges creaked on the old shack the teen called a home. He made sure he tipped off his shoes before entering, and he saw his father passed out in a drunken stupor. He carefully made his way to the small kitchen connected to the living room. If you would call it, that and stumbled upon a note.

"Jonny boy, I've left to clean up after your father. He pissed off some old doctor at the edge of town. I've left old Bessie for you to make sure she's in better condition when I get back, boy. Now, if I don't come back, I know you won't end up like your father. You're too smart for that. Use your ears to find a target to shoot. We both know your eyes aren't the best use that good hearing of yours. Don't file your horns too short boy they grow for a reason, and I love you forever and always."

Wrapped in leather by the note was a familair old looking revolver, the name Bessie was carved crudely into the handle. The weight would become familair in the teen's hands. He took the note scowled at his father and then headed off to hunt for dinner since that lazy piece of shit won't do anything but gamble.

Jon woke up with a start. He could feel a rush of emotions that weren't his. "I..."

"Don't say a fucking word." Jonny scowls. "Don't go telling nobody about that."

Jon nodded he paused, squinting at the clock that glowed, showing it was 3am. He sighs. "I don't remember my mother, or my father, with died at different times, but I was too young to remember them. My grandmother raised me, bitter she had to raise another child. Never told me that directly, however."

Jonny braces himself and grits his teeth. "I don't remember what my mom looks like either."

"Then we have that in common. Maybe the next dream will be my memory, and you can pick apart that." Jon sighs and curls under his blanket.

Jonny nods. "Just go back to sleep."

......

Martin grits his teeth and groans in pure agony. He could barely register the hand going through his red curls. His legs hurt, and he couldn't move them. His skin felt like it was on fire, and he didn't particularly like burning to death. He was stripped down to his birthday suit, and it didn't help with the fact that he was in pure agony.

Gunpowder continues to run his hands through Martin's hair. "It's alright, you're ok. It will be over soon."

"Just fucking kill me." Martin groans.

"We both know that won't help." Gunpowder sighs. "Would you like to hear my story?"

Martin takes a deep breath. "Please distract me."

Gunpowder nods and begins to narrate his origins.

....

An obnoxious alarm pulled Tim from sleep on the floor. He was laying in something wet and the smell of iron... no blood filled his nose, which caused him to panic and flail completely awake. His eyes lock onto a large spider, half then blood, then flesh and bone. Gunpowder takes over before he can throw up.

"Yikes, I thought the shared emotions wouldn't be this strong. Man, you are super depressed." Gunpowder gets up, smearing the blood off from his body. "You're going to need a stronger stomach." He looked over Martin, who was out cold. "See, he's breathing.... please stop screaming. " he covers his mouth, feeling his stomach sour from the sheer fear and disgust from Tim. He swallows the bile rising in his throat, turns away from the scene, and heads to the bathroom.

Gunpowder barely makes it to the toilet to empty the contents of his stomach. He continues to dry heave for a moment before turning to face Tim. "Are you done?"

Tim was pale, and he finally caught his breath. He was still radiating fear and disgust, but he was stable enough to talk. "Is he still alive?"

Gunpowder wipes his mouth. "Of course he is. What part of we can't die, don't you understand?" He frowns, pulling back his frustration. "Sorry you can't control how you react yet. I didn't realize how much I would share when we feel strong emotions." He sits on his knees and sighs. "I'll clean up, just try not to get sick again, please."

Tim nods and shudders. "I.... I'm not desensitized to this stuff. I'm sorry."

Gunpowder gets up, feeling the soft twists of sadness and self-doubt. "Tim, it's not a bad thing, means you're still human. Don't be too hard on yourself." He pulls out some cleaning supplies from the bathroom cabinet. "Tell me about Danny."

Tim frowns and nods slightly. "He was my younger brother...."

.....

Martin wakes up to someone touching his hand. He furrows his brow, pulling his hand back, and skitters up to be his full height, staring down at Tim. He hissed and then blushed, finally realizing that Tim was, in fact, there, and he wasn't a threat. He covers his face and groans, playing out his legs to be shorter. "I didn't mean to hiss at you."

Tim looked over to Gunpowder giggling, and he felt a laugh bubble in his own throat, and wow, no wonder he got frustrated. He didn't exactly know how he felt about feeling someone else's emotions. He gave a soft smile and reached out again to hold Martin's hand. "Your hands are really like a cat's paw."

Martin smiles and lets Tim take his hand. "Spiders have padded limbs and toe beans if you actually look at them."

"That's actually really cute." Tim blushes slightly. "Oh shit how are we going to get to work?"

Martin shrugs. "Might as well scare Elias first."

"Really?" Tim snickers. "What is he scared of spiders?"

"No, he's scared of what they represent." Martin hums. "We're going to be late, and I need a shirt."

"Right, you brought a spare one, right?" Tim paused and rushed over to a bag Martin brought. "Also, you're going to have to talk to my neighbors because of all the stuff we threw out, and they probably think I'm a serial killer."

Martin snickers. "I think I'll scare them into silence."

"Man, I've seen too much of Gunpowder, and Jonny and you having fun together to remember that I'm supposed to be scared of you because you're a spider centaur." Tim tosses over a sweater.

"I suppose I don't find myself scary either. Honestly, the fear left pretty quickly once I realized how my new body worked." Martin smiles. "This will be obnoxious getting to work. I don't mind walking. You live much closer than I do, but being stared at isn't ideal."

"Maybe a blanket?" Tim stops and covers his face. "That wouldn't work."

Martin chuckles. "I appreciate the concept idea, but Jonny tried that once."

"Wait really?" Tim raised his brow.

"Yeah, ended up in a bar fight." Martin snickers. "Although it was fucking hilarious."

"Huh." Tim crosses his arms. "Just bite the bullet and head out?"

"After you." Martin hums and smiles.

.....

Elias blinks, and the scene doesn't change. What confounds him the most is the fact that this has nothing to do with the web. The Beholder is taking it all in, and he can feel actual confusion from his patron. He clears his throat and approaches. "Martin, I don't believe it's near Halloween unless you've got an event planned."

Martin hums impressed at how well Elias can mask his true emotions. "I don't think a costume would be strong enough to carry someone on." He motions to Tim who waves.

"He insisted that he carry me." Tim smiles.

"Well, yes, but I hope I don't cause you too much trouble." Martin smiles. "Why the surprise this is your institute, and shouldn't you expect the supernatural?" He has a smirk as he walks past a stunned Elias.

Elias doesn't have a response to that. His mind was completely blank, and the Beholder was eerily silent.

Tim was snickering. "Double boss man seems quite stunned."

Martin chuckles. "Oh, this is quite fun."

That thought came crashing down with a terrified scream and wide eyed stares.

Martin felt exposed, and he couldn't remember the last time he felt bad about his body until this moment. He knows Tim can feel him tense. "I..."

"Jon, seriously?" Tim huffs sliding off Martin's back. "It's not his fault he's like this."

Jon was trying really hard to keep his panic and fear in check, and he felt a growing bubble of white hot rage directed at him and feeling it. The feedback loop was really confusing. "I uh..." He was forced out by Jonny.

"Fuck off." Jonny took back control his tail was lashing and puffed out at the end. His ears were pinned back, and the hair on top of his head was puffing out. "Seriously fuck off I don't judge you for who you carnally desire. Blackwood is mine, and you have absolutely no right." He goes o continue his rant, but a tooth falls out. He blinks as confusion fills his features, and he crouched down to poke it.

Martin opens his mouth and closes it. "You know I remember now what he was missing, the teeth."

"The teeth." Gunpowder repeats with a nod.

"I'm sorry Martin, are you ok?" Sasha vaguely motions.

"I mean, it was painful, but it doesn't hurt now." Martin pauses. "I have to figure out how to use my desk."

Tim is getting back control, pulling his eyes away from Jonny, now messing with his teeth. "I mean, you can get rid of the chair and move from there."

"That could work." Martin hums and looks over to Jonny. "Are you ok?"

Jonny holds a handful of his teeth. "What do you think?" He scowls. "Well fuck you too. No, I'm mad at you. That's a stupid fucking question, I don't care about spiders let alone being scared of them."

Three pairs of eyes watch the one sided argument.

.....

A fog seemed to roll into Elias's office out of nowhere, and a tall, muscular man in a captains attire steps inside. The man stops and stares at Elias, who had his head down on his desk. "Elias?"

Elias groans. "Peter."

"Shouldn't you be enjoying your new archivist floundering?" Peter raised his brow.

Elias takes a breath. "Peter, I have called every avatar I ever had contact with to ask if they knew what was going on with my archivist and his assistants. I have no leads, and the Beholder is clueless."

Peter opens his mouth then shuts it with a click.

"Do you have any idea what's happening? Because I don't have a singlaur clue." Elias throws his hands up. "One of the archivist assistants is a half spider centaur, and he's not even aligned with the web. The other has mechanical eyes that still work as eyes. That technology doesn't exist, and the Flesh doesn't bother with machines."

Peter reaches out. "I think you need a vacation."

Elias slams his hands against his desk. "Peter, I'm serious!" He gets up and grabs Peter's arm, and drags him to the archives.

Peter stared stunned.

#the mechanisms #the magnus archives #jonny d'ville #jonathan sims #sasha james #tim stoker #gunpowder tim #martin blackwood

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candy8448 · 4 months

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The one word writing prompt from @unexpectedstormy was "hungry"

Sorry for forgetting this for so long!

This is a fic that ive been meaning to write for ages but just never had the motivation to

Send me a one word writing prompt

Hyrule was by no means a good cook, he was probably the worst cook in the kingdom! The chain learned that when he first cooked some apparently old meat when Wild had hit his head and was out of commision.

It wasn't his fault that he couldn't cook! In his era, lighting fires was dangerous and would attract monsters so you had to each food raw or only have a fire long enough to smoke it. Full meals were only a luxury made in towns where people had proper kitchens and there was no risk of attracting enemies, not that Hyrule had any experience in a kitchen at that.

So without a question, Hyrule was a terrible cook.

But maybe he could learn! With this skill he could make meals whenever he wanted instead of looking longingly at the dishes made in towns that cost too many rupees. Maybe he could be better than Wild! He could figure it out! He's a hero! Nothing as simple as this would defeat him! The idea made him excited.

Oh no...

The food!

While he was zoned out, all the water in his stew had bubbled over the pot, uncontrollably going all over the place. His attempts to stop the flow of bubbles was futile and he dropped his head down in shame. At least the grass is watered now? He thought unhappily as he turned back to the remaining food. Taking a bite of the completely charred veg he noted the complete lack of flavor.

Uhhh... maybe he could give it flavour with the spices?

A glance at the pots of labeled spiced Wild had provided him made it obvious that he had no idea what he was doing. All of these names sounded strange, he thought that spices were just picked from whatever plant you knew that wasn't dangerous! How was he meant to know you were supposed to label them and use a specific one?! One he did recognise was the Goron Spice, one he did not want to deal with again. He made a point of straying faaaaar away from it...

After much indecision, Hyrule elected to just use the one he recognised, salt. He lifted the rock salts and held them in his hand, wontering how much he should put in. Perhaps he should suck it up and ask for help...

A questioning quirk of the eyebrow from Legend who was sitting beside Sky, watching him cook made his head dart back down, eyes wide with embarrassment.

ABORT! ABORT!

...Maybe he should just put as much salt as there was food... that sounded right?

Okay, the food should have been ready by now. He hummed innocently as ge distributed the broth into seperate bowls, handing them to each of his unsuspecting travelling companions.

"HYLIA'S TITS RULIE, WHAT did you put in here!?!?" The exclamation came from Wind, not the first one to take a bite. The traveller looked up to see a series of retching, and dumpimg out of bowls, some having the decency to try and hide it. It was like the first time he tried to cook for them, as if he hadn't improved at all.

He felt disappoinment root itself in his belly as he quietly took a sip from his own bowl, coughing it out.

Yeah, they were right, it was way too salty and way too burned.

Still, the reaction, although deserved he though, still hurt, and he was struggling to hide it.

From behind the others, a certain blue tunic appeared in front of him, Wild. The champion proceded to tip his head back and chug the entirety of his portion in quick succession much to the horror of everyone else. They looked at him with disturbed and shocked expressions and exclamations as said champion wiped his mouth with his sleeve and gave Hyrule a beaming thumbs up.

"Rulie put in effort for us to make some food, you guys should try to not be so obvious about hating it, even if it does taste a bit bad. Look, you've upset our traveller but half of you haven't even cooked for us yet, he at least tried. That's great! Hylia knows that i was making the worst dubious food when i first started."

He then turned to Hyrule and put a hand on his shoulder, "we'll make a cook out of you yet! Just you wait!" And then he got up and walked away.

And to say that the traveller's heart didn't feel so much happier would be a complete lie,

Even if he was still, currently, a bad cook

Ahh wild, a man of not many words but the purest of hearts

Ao3

#i do a little fanfic #linked universe #lu #lu hyrule #linked universe hyrule #lu legend #lu wind #lu wild #lu fic #lu fanfiction

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literary-illuminati · 11 months

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Book Review 21 - A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik

I honestly entirely forget who recommended this to me, but I owe them a thank you. Absolutely not something I would have ever picked up on my own, but a really enjoyable read. My exposure to Novik’s work is extremely limited, which is to say I’ve read Spinning Silver, but I’ve been vaguely meaning to give more of her stuff a try for a while. Didn’t enjoy this as much as that on a few levels, but that’s just the YA/adult genre jump as much as anything, probably.

It is very much a YA book, more than anything I’ve read this year (even more than Iron Widow, probably). From the entire plot being about making friends in high school being a literal life or death struggle to El “most powerful mage ever but only for evil things she tries to avoid so only a half dozen people ever realize how special she is’ Higgins to the booklength awkward teenage ‘literally unclear whether we are dating or not’ romance. So! Broadening my genre horizons some, I suppose.

El’s internal monologue was a bit of a trial for the first half of the book or so, I’ll admit. Not to say that it didn’t ring true to life, but she was just so incredibly fifteen, you know? Generally became significantly more tolerable once she started actually acting and coming out of her shell instead of devoting herself entirely to angsting about how much everyone hated her and trying to convince herself that she was a machievellian villain in waiting.

Though, to pick a nit that probably annoyed absolutely no one but me – I’m willing to accept El’s magical savant-ness as the price of admission, but the whole gradual reveal with her mom actually being world famous felt...odd? Cheap? Like in the beginning she’s very firmly characterized as this kind of head-in-the-clouds well meaning but not particularly perceptive or effectual hippie type, and then it’s gradually revealed that she’s actually the best healer in the UK and has set the global standard for a lot of spells and-. And it’s not like the reveal was actually doing anything dramatically, except making early book El’s isolation and lack of friends even more self-imposed, which was hardly necessary at that point. (Honestly ‘supporting cast go from being nobodies to retroactively being world-famous in their fields’ is the sort of decay I tend to associate with long running serial fiction. Weird to see it happen over the course of one book.) But that’s really just a minor pet peeve.

Orion was a great character, or at least a well-done example of an archetype I adore. ‘Selfless, heroic and dedicated to the point of it being kind of offputting/creepy Chosen One type who is (and I can’t emphasize this enough) not the protagonist. Partially because ‘there’s a much more conventionally heroic adventure story happening 5 degrees to the left’ just makes most stories a little bit more amusing, but also because someone really earnestly believing ‘my entire life is a means to a higher end, a fine tool set to a magnificent or at least a necessary purpose’ reliably drives me absolutely insane about them. That said the only reason I’m not absolutely certain he turns out to be either secretly evil or destined-to-be-the-antichrist is because the end of book cliffhanger makes that almost too obvious and on-the-nose.

Taking a bit of a step back, it’s interesting that the book didn’t really have any individual villain? Like, some other students are antagonists at times, sure, and there are plenty of horrible gribbly monsters (I adored basically all the horrible gribbly monsters), but none that really last as antagonists? Either defused or convinced to step aside/help or brutally murdered with magic. The entire finale was basically extreme high stakes facility maintenance. So yeah, interesting, not my usual expectation of YA.

I mean more broadly the actual villain is of course the entire fucked up system, both social and metaphysical, underlying the school. The role of a brutally competitive education system as recruitment method allowing particularly competent or promising immigrants and members of the lower classes to join a ‘meritocratic’ elite while also filtering out the most troublesome or incompetent children of that elite and using their failure to legitimize the easy inheritance of all the others is, perhaps, a slightly on the nose analogy. But, again, kind of the price of admission.

#book review #the scholomance #a deadly education #naomi novik #sff #YA

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on-a-sunbeam · 24 days

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Revenge and Dollhouse for the ask game?

YES HI!!! Uhm I’ll do Dollhouse first!

My rating (1-10): I’d give it a 6, maybe. Which is to say that I enjoyed it A LOT but also I have just like. A Few Critiques. Just one or two.

My favourite character: ADELLE!! There is no contest here at all I loveee her

My least favourite character: Okay, this used to be super easy because I really hated Topher at first, but I have grown to tolerate him so. I mean I hate like almost all the clients and also Sierra’s handler, but you’re supposed to hate them so it’s not really specific to me, I guess. I’ll say Nolan though, for obvious reasons.

The character I think I'd be friends with: I think Ivy because I have friends that Ivy reminds me of heh

The character I think I won't hit off with: Maybe Ballard? He seems very serious I don’t know

My favourite episode/scene: EVERY SCENE WITH ADELLE. I’m kidding but only slightly. Uhh I really liked A Spy in the House of Love, though, and I think Echoes is pretty funny. Belonging has um. A LOT going on in it, but I will say I really liked Adelle in that one, too.

Whose clothing style I like best: Unfortunately, I’m legally obligated to say Topher because I dress exactly like him. It was slightly detrimental to my whole initial hating-him campaign that every time I saw him I went ‘ah I would wear that’

Times I watched it (and if I would again): Once! And I definitely would again; despite its flaws I do really like it and it’s not super long either. Plus Adelle.

Aaand Revenge!!

My rating (1-10): 8.5! I love it a lot

My favourite character: UHHH HARD tie between Emily and Victoria. I do also really like Amanda so I don’t know.

My least favourite character: It’s been a hot second since I’ve watched this, so no one’s really jumping out to me. I will say though that I somehow forget that Jack exists half the time. I really don’t know how I manage that when he’s kind of a Main Guy, but it’s still a little surprise every time he shows up. This doesn’t even happen to Declan, just to him.

The character I think I'd be friends with: I’m not saying Ashley is normal, per se, but I am saying she’s MOSTLY normal. I feel like we could hang out and chat while I was blissfully unaware of any scheming.

The character I think I won't hit off with: I have a weird soft spot in my heart for Tyler but we most certainly would not be friends

My favourite episode/scene: SHOOT. Okay, I liked the party where it all came full circle to the beginning, and I feel like there were some really good twists, but I really like the scene where Amanda dies (which is stupid because I love Amanda but). Also I know this is SUCH a small thing, but for some reason that group shot of the Grayson’s after Victoria kills Helen means everything to me. It’s so silly, but I love it so much.

Whose clothing style I like best: Nolan, maybe? I don’t know, I feel like he had some iconic looks.

Times I watched it (and if I would again): I have a confession to make guys, I actually have not finished it yet 😔. I’m actually still in the middle of season 3 because I’m slow at watching things sometimes. But I have really liked it so far, so odds are pretty good it would be something that I will rewatch!!

Sorry, I just thought of an answer to the least favourite character thing. I HATE AIDEN. I HAVE NO RHYME OR REASON I JUST DISLIKE HIM.

THANK YOU SO MUCH for the ask though!!!

#yayayay i love talking about silly lil shows :D #also I SWEAR I WILL ANSWER YOUR MESSAGE #it is taking me a million years i’m sorry :(#revenge #dollhouse

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nohoney · 1 year

Text

been feeling dreamy over the song you that i want by divine lately…. anyway here’s us series smut. takes place between part 3 and part 4.

warnings: drugs (selling but no taking), brief mentions of past assault (not in explicit detail), voyeurism, just a teeny bit of humiliation

It takes a lot for Touya to decide that he won’t sell to someone anymore. He’s still sold to guys he hates and in turn hate him, but cordial enough to complete a transaction. There’s few that he’s willing to have a conversation with and others that he’d rather not stick around for. So Touya’s disgruntled to meet with a group that involve your ex-boyfriend with them. Motherfucking Jun, the one who put his hands on you and the one before he came along.

There’s an obvious tension when he pulls up but he keeps his composure even as Jun stares back at him.

Four adderall, a gram of ketamine, and fourteen grams of shrooms was the request and he’s just about to hand it off before he pulls back. He was already given cash and one venmo transaction with a fee tacked on so payment was made. He doesn’t care about anyone else from the group who are all waiting for their goods; he just fucking hates that Jun is apart of them.

“You, what the fuck do you plan on having?” Touya points his finger towards your ex-boyfriend. His mind flashes to the memory of when you had bruising on your neck, a frown set on his face that he swears is getting angrier the longer he looks at him.

Jun exhales through his nose, his nostrils flaring at first before he answers, “Shrooms.”

“I’m not selling to you if he’s going to take anything from me. He gets nothing.”

There’s a collective groan from the group, “C’mon Dabi, let’s not make it personal okay?”

But it is personal and Touya can’t forget the disrespectful and snide attitude from your ex from when they first met. He hates him, hates that Jun had ever fucked you first even if it was destiny that was supposed to pave the path for you and him to meet. The asshole mistreated you and didn’t give one shit about your feelings in the way he was supposed to. And the motherfucker who actually hurt you even if he ‘didn’t mean to’ as he claimed from that time just because he was drunk.

He wants to walk out but a better idea comes to mind. “You want all this shit for half off? I’ll cut you a real nice deal.” Touya offers, pulling the cash out from his pocket to count and returning half of the payment. “I’m just going to borrow you. You cooperate with me and you get to have fun at your little party.”

All eyes look to Jun and he himself is surprised along with everyone else. “We’re kinda looking to get fucked up now…” he says carefully, “What exactly do you want?”

Touya holds up one finger as a way to tell him to wait as he starts to fish out his phone, walking back towards the other room to get some distance and keeping his back turned away from the group. The phone rings a couple of times before it’s picked up, “Touya?”

He expected to hear Keigo’s voice but you picked up the phone instead, “Hey princess, give the phone to Keigo for me.”

“What, you can’t tell me?” You feign hurt before laughing and telling him to wait a second, “Kei, it’s Touya. He wants to have a secret, man-to-man conversation with you.”

Touya speaks a little lowly into the phone, his voice a little urgent but he knows that he’ll get the cooperation he’s seeking. As he glances back at the group, he can see everyone conversing with Jun as his eyes nervously look back to him. He’s getting the pressure from the group because no guy wants to be the asshole that made the plug mad and fucked up a sale. So he knows that it’s going to work exactly to his favor what he’s about to do. “Yeah, yeah you got it. How fast would you say that you’re going to be here?”

“Fifteen minutes.” Touya answers, “just make a show of it when I walk through the door but don’t drag it on either. No softy shit like I heard a few days ago. And keep the lighting good when I make the call.”

Keigo just agrees before hanging up the phone and Touya walks back to the group to stand in the spot he was in before. “Either half off or none at all, that’s the only choices you get. I’ll give it to you once I get what I want from you.” he poses it like a choice but everyone in the room knows that it’s not. Someone complains what they’re supposed to do in the mean time and they’re told to shut up. “Just get drunk, Jun here will pull through because he’s a good friend to all of you. Get in your car and follow behind me.”

Jun is apprehensive but he knows that he needs to cooperate.

Touya is polite enough to wait for Jun to find a parking spot near Keigo’s complex and leads him up the staircase after letting him in through the lobby. He’s pulling out his phone and making the video call but is sure to keep the speaker volume low so that the prick behind him isn’t privy to what he’s about to sit through. Keigo answers the video call and props his phone up quickly only to walk back in the view of the camera where you lay in the bed naked and with a hand waving the blond back over to you.

Good, just as Touya instructed him to.

Just right at the front door, he can hear your muffled moans from the inside and he doesn’t bother to look back to see Jun’s expression. He only wordlessly unlocks the door and allows your asshole ex-boyfriend in first before following in after and shutting the door. The symphony of your moans resounds through the apartment as both of them take their shoes off first. Touya directs to Jun to sit in the living room, passing by Keigo’s bedroom where you’re getting fucked by him roughly.

“You fucking sick or something? You want me to listen to your girlfriend getting fucked by your friend?” Jun is completely disgusted as he sits in the armchair but there’s no mistaking the flush in his face as he listens to your cute, choked up voice.

“Feeling good songbird? Yeah? You love this, right?” Keigo is heard grunting along with the creak of the bed frame.

God you’re as pretty as you sound. “Nngh! S’amazing… Kei’s cock s’good!”

Touya loves to hear this, whether he’s just listening or he’s joining in.

“You can watch too. Here, set up just for you.” Touya props his phone up against a decorative vase you purchased for Keigo’s apartment, “Since you were such a pervert listening to us fuck that one time. She told me that you were into listening and watching other people so thank me for being so kind. Thank me for letting you get another look at your ex-girlfriend get fucked pretty.”

Jun frowns at the distaste of the situation, his hand clenching into a fist as he hears you just in the other room and his eyes watch through the video call on Touya’s phone. “You’re a sick asshole, you know that?

Touya gestures to the phone and puts on an insincere smile, “I’ll have you know that I’m rather kind and generous.” Your voice parallels everything happening in the video call. Jun is forced to watch you on screen just in the room over, Keigo making himself comfortable on the bed as you’re set on his lap and move your hips to ride him. Touya watches rather fondly as he sees Keigo’s hands smooth to your cute ass, spanking you hard first that elicits a yelp from you before he spreads your cheeks. “Fucking look, you miss that right?”

“Dabi, this is some petty shit from you.”

He doesn’t fucking care; he just wants to humiliate Jun. if Jun walks away then that means he and his friends don’t get the shit they wanted.

“Fuuuck, Kei! I’m cumming—fucking cumming!” you’re heard from the bedroom and you’re seen through the phone getting on the flats of your feet onto the bed to bounce up and down on Keigo’s dick. The smacking of skin can be heard clearly and Touya just looks so giddy as he watches his two favorite people get lost in one another. He knows that Keigo is making a show of it like he told him to, he knows it in the way you’re getting choked and how harsh you’re getting spanked with a loud smack. “Keigo!”

It’d be nice to join but Touya places a priority of humiliating Jun first.

“I can sweeten the pot. You stay until he cums in her, I’ll throw in a gram of snow.” Touya offers as he pulls a measured baggy from his wallet. Truthfully it’s the gram he’s supposed to give to you later on but he’s just having too much fun with this. “Don’t let your friends down now, right? I saw the way they were all bugging down on you. Sucks to be friends with people who choose drugs over your well-being, huh? S’okay, you can admit if this isn’t worth it. You can keep your dignity and walk away. I’ve done worse to you.”

But he knows that Jun won’t walk away because that fucker wants his shit and he can’t be the reason why his friends lost out on a good plug. And even if he went around looking for another, he could just tell Shigaraki to be on the lookout and inform anyone else that deals within this area and nearby. He could spin a story and get him killed by his own young boss if he wanted.

Touya won’t go that far though.

It pisses him off but you’d probably be sad if Jun were to die; you were still soft like that even though you should hate your ex-boyfriend for hurting you.

“… How much longer would that be?” Jun asks quietly, his foot tapping impatiently and a shameful erection being hidden beneath his folded hands in his lap.

Glancing down to his phone, Keigo has put you on all fours and presses your head to the mattress. He recognizes the excited laugh you let out but it’s cut short when Keigo fucks hard and fast behind you. Touya just knows you’re creaming on his dick and he can’t wait to get in afterwards. There’s just something about sliding into you and have you still dripping wet with Keigo’s cum in you that turns him on so damn much. The first time it ever happened, he had almost cum embarrassingly fast when he discovered how much he liked it.

He watches Keigo put in the work, shaking his bangs out of his face as the hairs stick to his forehead from sweat before throwing his head back. Touya hears how desperate you and Keigo are becoming. Your sweet pleas and the nasty curses of fucking slut and stupid bitch coming from Keigo gets him just a little too excited.

Touya just wants to go in there and help press your head deeper into the mattress to hear you whine more and make Keigo loll his tongue out so that he can spit in his mouth.

He wants a nasty fuck now.

Keigo’s vocal as he snaps his hips hard into you, almost whining alongside you too as he shoots his load into your cunt and oh—Touya is for sure going to get filthy in there. Just right after he sends Jun out. He ends the video call on his phone before Jun sees anything too intimate and vulnerable. But just as promised he tosses the all the party favors into his lap and tells him to get the fuck out, “Take your shoes and put them on outside. And remember how kind I was to you after everything that’s gone down between us.”

Jun leaves quietly and with his tail tucked between his legs and Touya’s sure to audibly close the front door that’s heard by you. “Touya? Are you back?” you call out, slightly breathless and whining as Keigo shallowly thrusts into your pussy before pulling out completely. You roll to your back and crook a finger to Touya when opens the bedroom door to make his appearance. “C’mere…”

“I’m here doll, I’m here.” he croons as he starts to undress. Everything drops to the floor with an audible thump and he hears your happy little sigh as he approaches. He caresses his hand against your cheek but leans in to kiss Keigo hard on the mouth, groaning lowly before pulling back and hissing out a satisfied cursed. “Did Kei treat you good?” he asks he starts to get in position between your legs.

“Always.” you answer with a happy smile before letting out a small gasp when the back of Touya’s hands roughly grasp the back of your knees and push them towards you.

Keigo leans back against his pillow to catch his breath. He flashes a little smile and sends him a wink, keeping another secret between the two of them and your pretty little self is blissed out of your mind and unknowing of the presence of your ex-boyfriend in a personal space not too long ago.

#they’re such scumbags and i love them #dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #us series #tw drugs #tw assualt #tw voyeurism

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mishkakagehishka · 1 year

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Hey Korka I saw a thing so of course I have to shu-ify it because it can fit this idiot who never says what he actually thinks unless it's strictly necessary.

Anyway thinking about something going wonky with some thing or other and being able to hear Shu's inner voice... Like getting to hear his actual feelings with a sort of echo effect after he says his usual harsh words... Maybe using that to your advantage to tease him a little bit and fluster him while making it not completely obvious so he doesn't evaporate on the spot

I think we don't have to really use any logic because "Well, we just want to see it happen!!" is enough. For the sake of an argument, let's imagine uhhhhhhh [checks notes] the time and space matter is falling apart because of the perpetual timeloop and it's showing in the fact that Shu's thoughts are now shared with whoever he's speaking to in the moment. We could bring up the idea of a soulmate AU, but I won't torture you tonight.

idk the word count i wrote it directly in post (so no spellchecker! should be fun!!) and i . didn't really plan on doing that.

Shu's usual biting remarks - something that takes lots of getting used to, and even then can hurt quite a lot. It's not like he wants to be mean, but that's how he comes across to most. To most, with a few notable exceptions, to most except to those who, after all, know him.

But it takes practice to know how to translate Shu's words, to know that his "Even a child could do it" doesn't necessarily mean you're stupid so you should be able to do it - it doesn't mean that he considers you on the level of the imaginary child he is mentioning, but that he expects someone of your skills and knowledge to be able to breeze through it. To know that his scoffs and "Don't bother me" and "I'm only doing this because it'd be an inconvenience to me otherwise" are just ways of masking his own care for you. That his scoffs are to hide his smiles, his shooing of you just a way to make sure he's not distracted by wanting to talk to you, that he just cannot come clean about his true intentions - it's not in his nature to show vulnerability.

And one day, all that practice, all that difficulty is just. Gone. And suddenly you have access to Shu's inner thoughts. How? Who knows. The author doesn't particularly care, either. But the reality is that you were left sitting in your seat, listening to Shu berating you for not bringing an umbrella, yet very much hearing the echo of, what would I do if you got sick? Why do you always insist on worrying me like this? And how were you supposed to pair it to "Are you a moron? Do you not check the weather like an adult before leaving the house?!"

Easily. By batting your eyelashes at him, by saying, "Sorry, did I worry you?" He paused in his berating, mid-sentence, mid-calling-you-an-imbecile. Eyes widened, mouth still left half-open. Is that the faintest rosiness of a blush you see on his cheeks? "Don't be ridiculous. Whether you get sick or not is none of my business, but think about the work you'd be pushing onto others because of your lack of care. It is highly irresponsible." Yet the echo was panicking. Panicking! Screaming, is it that obvious? Am I that obvious? I don't look worried, do I? You may have just found your entertainment for today.

"Well, I just forgot my umbrella. I'm sorry, but I don't think I deserve to be called names for it," you defended yourself, just wanting to see if he'd think anything vaguely remorseful. "I'm simply stating facts. Forgetting such a trivial thing makes you seem dumber than you are." - If you feel bad about being called names, then quit behaving so carelessly.

Well, Shu will always be Shu.

I hate making you feel bad, too. I wish you would smile at me." And wasn't that your perfect sign? Your wonderful cue to shoot him the brightest, most blinding smile known to humanity, in such perfect timing. And as if an arrow had struck him, he froze. Even his thoughts - empty. But he was under your effect, that was certain, with that faint blush easily deepening, splashing his cheeks in a far more noticeable way. In a way that was, quite frankly, very taking-advantage-of-able. "Are you okay? You're looking a bit red?" Don't come closer, don't come closer, don't come closer, DON'T- Of course you came closer. Of course you placed your hand on his forehead, pressing ever so lightly. "Do you have a fever?" "NO! I'm fine. Don't touch me!" Though he attempted to swat your hand away, it was clearly rather low-effort, and your hand remained on his forehead. He almost leaned into it, and you could hear words so unfitting of Shu's voice, yet undeniably in his voice. Ah~ Your hand is so soft... I wish time would stop so you would never pull away... It's so warm... What a capricious man.

"You're burning up, Shu! And you scolded me about getting sick..." "I'm not sick, I told you! Let go this instant!" Please don't let go please don't let go please don't let go "Why don't you move away? Nobody's holding you." Really, nobody was. You only kept your hand on his forehead, but he was free to even just take a single step backwards. But you knew the reason. And he knew the reason as well. The blush spread to the tip of his ears, making him look nothing less than like a rose in bloom. Or an embarrassed tomato. "You're not sick? So what's with your face? You're red all over. Could it be you're embarrassed?" You happily watched his composure crumble, his breathing turn uneven, his eyes trembling. What's happening?

Suddenly, his cheeks were cupped, squished until his mouth was stuck in a pout. A most undignified state that had him scrambling, trying to push your hands away, but ultimately it was a fruitless endeavor. What's happening!??!?! "You're so cute." "UNHAND ME!" But, like a puppy, his thoughts just repeated the compliment over and over. I'm cute... I'm cute...? He seemed to enjoy it, his heart pounding in his ears at the words, at your touch, at how close your faces were. "You're adorable. Do you like it when I compliment you like that?" I love it "You do, don't you? So cute."

A loud smooch to his cheek. And his knees buckled. Pathetically. "Wha-what is the meaning of this? You're behaving most inappropriately and-!" "Are you crying?" "I'm NOT!" He was not... technically. The tears that collected in the corners of his eyes were those of frustration with himself, frustration with the situation. I would want for nothing more than to embrace you and kiss you, but... Even his thoughts hadn't a ready excuse. It was simply not something that would be in his nature. But I could never take the lead with such acts.

And isn't that all you needed to know to grab his face once more, albeit less like a fussy baby's and more gently now, to cup his jaw and press your lips against his? To cradle his face in your hands, to feel his body tensing up for a mere moment, before his arms caught hold of your shoulders, attempting to ground himself. His breathing evening once more, though his heart continued pounding hard enough that you could feel it against your own chest. And his inner monologue nothing but an unending scream of, what you assumed to be, excitement. It probably wouldn't be horror, else he wouldn't have been kissing back as fervently as he was. Pulling away was equally as entertaining as listening to his inner screaming throughout the kiss, rather, watching him quickly trying to mask his softened features back into a frown, getting ready to scold you, but... No words came out.

"You..! You..! You.....!" He tried his best, he really did. I cannot believe you did that i cannot believe we did that that was so good that was great i want to do that again i never want to be away from you i want to hug you more i want to kiss you more i want to "Me? Me? Me?" You mocked, a victorious smile on your face, knowing you had one over him. Him, who was still out of breath, tried as he did to hide it. "You're that into me, huh?" At this point, he had the bright idea to hide his face. "I already saw how red you are, no use hiding it now. Come kiss me again." Peeking through his fingers, no, glaring through his fingers. He pondered on a response for a second, face still heating up, embarrassment still evident. But, for once, his thoughts and words overlapped, "Can I?"

#very low effort but watch one day i'll write a proper makeout fic with shu #ensemble stars #asks #my writing #fuck it gets the tag #shu itsuki #shu itsuki x reader

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everlastiingiimmortals · 4 months

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Reflection on 1.6, part 1

Hello! Now that it is morning and I have had time to reflect on the first half of the continuance (second half is not done yet), I'll be sharing my thoughts - especially in relation to Stelle because her muse reacted fairly strongly to that whole thing. Obvious spoilers and the like, everything will be tagged and under the cut.

so, right off the bat, I'd say Stelle was considerably excited to meet Ruan Mei, given her experience with her in the Simulated Universe-- she quickly grew to regret this. I don't think another character except Kafka has made her feel so small and uncomfortable from a "first" meeting. The whole checking her pulse thing?? Fucking weird.

And then Ruan Mei drugged her. I've mentioned before that Stelle absolutely hates losing any of her autonomy. It's, truly, one of the things that scares her the most. So for her to realize she couldn't speak freely, for her to realize Ruan Mei -- someone she'd previously associated with immense generosity -- had tricked her? She wanted to throttle her so badly. She felt, admittedly, stupid. Stupid for thinking Ruan Mei wouldn't do such a thing, stupid for thinking Ruan Mei's generosity meant she wouldn't be so selfish and manipulative.

Here, Herta's one comment from the very beginning of the story comes to the front of Stelle's mind in full force: "Some of them will trick you into thanking them after they milk you dry. At least I have my honesty going for me." Clearly, despite Herta's affiliation with Ruan Mei, this didn't mean Ruan Mei would hold the same set of values. Stelle felt so, so stupid for not realizing this.

Can I just say that the progression of the mission from annoying to bad to terrifying was amazing for me and absolutely horrid for Stelle

The fact that she couldn't say anything about it either really, really left her alone. Stelle, though with a strong independent streak and tendency to appreciate time to herself, really does not like being alone. Isolated. Getting trapped in that mirror maze in Locufox Forest was already a horrid situation for her, and this was another time far too soon, especially when descending into that elevator alone.

invisible stings fucking suck i hated that and so did stelle. ruan mei what is wrong with you

the creatures were cute at least

Stelle HATED Ruan Mei for her treatment of the little things too, by the way. Her idea of Ruan Mei as a selfish and utterly irresponsible person only strengthened as the mission progressed.

GOD SHE HATES BEING ALONE ALL OF THAT WAS FUCKING AWFUL IT WAS DARK AND CREEPY AND THE INCUBATOR??!?!?!?! SEEING THAT SHIT BROKEN LATER?!?!?!? SHFJDJFJDKGKSKGS NONONONONO THAT WAS AWFUL

It's really sad to me that after returning to the upper floor, seeing Ratio -- even as bewildered as she was -- was such an enormous relief. The presence of another person, here, even if they weren't supposed to be, was such a huge reassurance. Having someone willing to explain the situation, even as limited as it was, having that affirmation that yes, he knows who she is and what she's supposed to do, and yes, he will be watching in case things go south (as scathing about it as he was), was an enormous weight off her shoulder.

Speaking of Ratio, I have a bad habit of keeping headcanons close to my chest while fleshing out a muse (mostly because I forget to share them here), but I do really like this little snippet of what I've seen so far with him. The fact that he is there when he is not supposed to, I think, speaks a lot about his character. He cares. He cares very deeply, in fact. People don't become professors if they do not care about educating and raising future generations. He took the time, even in two succinct "paragraphs," to explain to Stelle exactly what she needed to know about the situation, he could tell she was scared and upset, and I think that Ratio -- despite his scathing tongue and tendency to make his students cry -- is not someone to just let that go and ignore it. His priority is people. Whether it be breaking them from the shackles of ignorance or improving their quality of life in other ways (as per his contributions to energy and such), people matter deeply to him.

Stelle went with the dialogue I chose after his explanation, which was to thank Ratio. In part due to her relief, yes, but also due to her catching on fairly quickly with Ratio's attitude about the whole situation. She figured it best to show some humility and appreciation and not waste further time with the urgency of her task. Especially since he scolded her for asking questions ANDJSKFNALFJ

Shoutout to the distaste in Ratio's voice when he referred to the swarm king I could HEAR that lip curl

HATED THAT WHOLE CUTSCENE. STELLE DON'T TOUCH THAT SHIT AUGH GROSS GROSS GROSS

I lost once to it :(

Loved how Ratio was watching over Stelle the whole time thank you sir I love you. I have no doubt in my mind that he would have stepped in if things really went bad. Fascinated at how he got the information on Ruan Mei's experiment, I wonder if that will be revealed in the second half. If not I'll come up with some shit eventually

STELLE. WAS. SO. PISSED. AT. RUAN. MEI.

SHE WANTED TO DECK RUAN MEI SO BAD. "I regret what I've done" NO YOU DON'T. YOU REGRET THAT IT WAS A FAILURE. NOT THAT YOU WENT BEHIND SCREWLLUM'S AND HERTA'S BACKS AND ENDANGERED ALL OF THE RESEARCHERS ON THE STATION. IT DOESN'T MATTER IF IT'D ONLY BE ALIVE FOR 56 SECONDS THE AMOUNT OF DAMAGE IT COULD HAVE DONE IN THAT TIME WOULD HAVE BEEN IRREPARABLE. OHHH MY GOD SHE WAS SOOOO PISSED

I personally don't like how quick the Trailblazer seems to forgive Ruan Mei? I think she should be way angrier. Stelle hold a grudge girl you deserve it you almost died. My Stelle holds a grudge against Ruan Mei (and the whole of the Society at this point now. Geniuses are such fucking assholes).

Those critters are yours now Stelle, Ruan Mei ditched them all smfh

very much looking forward to more Ratio. Sir <3 <3 <3

#//immortal; (OOC)#//about; (VESSEL OF DESTRUCTION)#//about; (DOCTOR OF TRUTH)#hsr spoilers

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sprdmywings · 1 year

Text

sprdmywings ; [ can i kiss you? ]

🍓 ; minho x m reader - track one

🍓 ; (friends 2 lovers/non idol au) fluff , oblivious dumbasses , one mention of d.ath (e) , kissing

🍓 ; back

You and Minho have always been together. There hasn't been a moment when you two weren't by each others side. You were the other half of Minho and he was yours. It was like you were destined to be together forever.

Everything was perfect, except one thing.

You both liked each other.

While it was obvious to others, you both had no idea you shared mutual feelings. It was painful to watch you guys flirting then crying to your best friends later about how he would "never love you."

Said best friends couldn't wait for you two to stop being stupid and confess already.

You were walking back from college to go see Minho when you felt two pairs of arms wrap around your own. Shocked, you jumped and admittedly turned around to see who intruded your walk.

"You're so easy to scare, y/n" None other than Hwang Hyunjin and Han Jisung themselves.

Hyunjin poked your side, making you jump and slap his arm. "I told you I'm ticklish there," you frowned at him.

"I know. that's why I do it," he laughed. "You're so mean." you pouted, pushing him off and grabbing onto Jisung's arm.

"Sungie," you whined, "Hyunjin is bullying me."

"Hyung, stop bullying y/n," he glanced at you before looking to Hyunjin again, "that's my thing." He smiled and poked your side, causing the other to resume his previous assault.

You laughed involuntarily and tried your best to push them off. "I hate you guys."

Eventually, they had enough and stopped their ticklish attacks with a smile on their face. "We love you too~"

"Seriously..." you puffed out a laugh and went on your way, the two idiot best friends following behind.

"Where are you going?" Jisung wrapped an arm around your shoulder, "to see Minho?" Hyunjin eyed over curiously.

"Yeah. We're going to have a movie night tonight. " Ever the man, Jisung raised an eyebrow questionably. "Netflix and chill?" You laughed and playfully hit his shoulder. "It's not like that. We're just friends. Plus! I think he likes someone else."

"What makes you think that?" Hyunjin titled his head to the side, "I mean, he's, like, obviously head over heals for you. You literally don't have anything to worry about. I don't think I've seen anyone as devoted as him." Jisung nodded his head. "Minho Hyung always tells me about how cute you are. Not to mention he won't stop talking about you. I can't get through one meal with him without it being 'y/n this, y/n that.' It's annoying, honestly."

You sucked in a breath, heat rushing up to your cheeks, turning them a bright red. "Oh my god, stop." You put your hands over your face and whined. "And he calls me cute all the time. It doesn't mean anything."

"But you're still blushing, right?" No denying that.

"Whatever, let's just go. I was supposed to pick up snacks on my way there."

###

Shortly after grabbing snacks and a successful attempt to send a troublesome Jisung home, you were finally sat comfortably on Minho's couch while he pops the popcorn in the kitchen.

"Hey, don't forget the extra—"

"Butter?" Minho looked back and smiled. "I already added it in." You smiled, "What would I ever do without you?"

"Probably die." Minho walked over with a bowl filled with popcorn. "I would too if I didn't have someone so handsome and amazing with me all the time."

"Shut up," you laughed, "You're so full of it." You reached over for the bowl, taking it from the his hands. "You love it though," he smirked and sat down. "That I do."

You were halfway through the movie when you started sneaking glances at Minho. The movie was boring anyway, and Minho was looking a little too fine.

You admired his beautiful face, taking in his features. His soft plump lips, enchanting eyes that watched the movie with interest. No matter how many times you looked at him, he was always gorgeous. It was hard to believe someone as talented, nice, and beautiful as him existed.

"Are you going to keep staring at me?"

Minho turned his head and stared at you, the corner of his lips turned up. "Am I that handsome? That you just can't enough of me?" Your jaw dropped slightly, face immediately turning red. "W-well, uh, you see..."

"It's okay, y/n. I know I look good." He wore a smug smile, patting your back.

You looked down to the floor in embarrassment, thinking of what to say. No comeback could come to mind. You had to say something or else it would just get more awkward.

"Yeah. Uh, you're really pretty, Minho."

Speechless, he turned to look at you, his own face red. He took a moment to process your words before finally responding. "I know."

"Oh shut up!" You laughed and pushed his shoulder. "I'm pouring my heart out to you. Can't you afford to be a little less self-centered?"

Minho smiled and held his shoulder, relishing in your angelic laugh. He let out a blissful sigh, "ah, fuck it. Hey, you know what?" You tilted your head to the side, humming for him to continue.

"I really like you."

"What?"

"Listen, I know you don't feel the same way, but I had to say it," he paused, "gosh, this is embarrassing... I just, I just like— no love. I love you, y/n. And not in the best friends type of way. I want to take you out on dates, hold your hand, maybe even kiss if you'd let me. We've been friends for so long, and I literally cannot see my life without you. I love you so much it's so, ah. I'm not too good at this..."

You took his hand, making him stop his ranting. "Minho. I like you too. I love you, I have for a while now." You could feel your face burning. Not only did you get to confess to your crush, but he confessed first! It feels so unreal; your deepest fantasies finally coming true.

"Can I kiss you?" He ran his thumb over your knuckles, the movie long forgotten.

"Do you even have to ask?" His breath gently fanned onto your lips. Slowly, Minho leaned in, soft, plush lips meeting your own. You smiled into the kiss, warm feelings erupting throughout your soul. No doubt the same was happening to him.

His hand came up to your neck, cupping the back of it, and bringing you closer. All these years of crushing on someone you thought you could never have, all those tears shed. He finally loved you back.

Only pulling away for air, you wrapped your arms around his chest, engulfing him in a hug. He did the same, squeezing you tight like you were to run if he let go. "I love you so much."

You didn't dare move. If you two ended sound asleep cuddling on the couch, well, thats your business.

bonus .

You woke up to the sound of banging on the door, jumping at the sound.

"Minho Hyung! Open up!"

You looked beside you, seeing said man with a hand on your waist and another cradling your head. With a sigh, you were about to sit up to let Jisung in when the hand on your waist tightened.

"Sleep a little more, he'll go away sooner or later." You let out a giggle and laid back down into the warmth of his arms.

"Okay."

— only god knows how long ive been putting this off 💀 oopsies. lmk if i made any mistakes :3

@sprdmywings # do not copy/steal or translate any works

#🍓;sprdmywings%#stray kids #lee know #lee minho #lee know x male reader #can be gn reader but it wasnt supposed to be 😓#fluff #first kiss #best friends to lovers

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livinginmystars · 2 years

Text

U.A Boys - They argue with their s/o and hurt them

A reaction of when they fight with you and they hurt you by saying/doing something that hurts you without meaning to

y/n -> your name e/c -> eye color h/c -> hair color

Don't forget that requests are open! If you want to see something don't hesitate to ask~ ≺⋅⋅⋅≻

Izuku Midoriya

To be honest, he'd hate to fight, not only because it's difficult for the both of you but also because it usually doesn't end well

Since you two rarely fight, it unfortunately ends up being pretty big ones

Considering how accomodating Izuku is about everything but his hero ambitions, it would probably be the main reason of the your fights.

It would be about this one more time, possibly because of something you two had planned that was postponed or forgotten.

You would have been arguing with him for quite a while already, you pacing around in the living room while he'd be sitting on the couch, a hand rubbing his forehead. Both of you had a long day and you had planned a nice diner date together at home, only for him to arrive two hours and a half after the time you had agreed on.

Obviously, he gave you an apology but it was hard for you to accept it, considering that this was not the first time it happened, nor was it the second or the third. Being a hero is Izuku's dream and you'll always support him through it but after a while, being pushed on the side because he was constantly called by his agency tends to get tiring.

"You could have asked them to simply go home, you could have told them that you had plans for tonight..." You'd mumble in a sigh, shaking your head. "I mean, you're not the only hero in your agency." You'd try to reason with him.

"They called me. What type of hero would I be if I didn't go?" Izuku complains in return, sounding exasperated.

"A hero that knows how to set boundaries maybe?" You'd argue. "Remember that I'm a hero too, so I know what it's like to be called out of the blue when you're not supposed to. It's just that... They're alway calling you and it's obivous why."

"Oh is it?" He mumbles with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Is it so obvious?"

"Yes." The tone of your voice is quite harsh but it's something that you know you should say because he'll never realise it himself. "It's because they know you'll leave everything else and come as soon as you're called."

"It's normal!" He snaps back, truly starting to feel annoyed as the fight starts to go on and on. "I'm a hero and I'm trying to be the number one, of course I have to be available at all time of the day and even at night if needed."

"So what, until you're the number one you're going to let people overwork you, demand your presence at all time of the year and let them disrespect any sort of boundaries?"

Izuku lets out a heavy sigh as he stands up and starts to head towards the corridor, probably choosing to go into another room. That's when you stop and cross your arms on your chest, half glaring at his back.

"Where are you going?" You ask him, a frown on your face. "You're just gonna go and avoid the discussion?"

"I don't want to fight with you y/n, not when I have already little time to spend with you." Izuku shakes his head, making a sign with his hand to leave it.

"Yeah and whose fault is it?" You mumble bitterly.

"Would you stop? It's not my fault if there is a big need of heroes in Japan and in this town." He turns back to you, sending you a glare.

"That doesn't mean you have to leave litteraly everything on the side just so it helps you climb in the hero rankings." You'd try in a last attempt to reason with him. "Your ambition is noble but it doesn't mean it should be the most important thing in your life, you know?" You'd walk a little closer to him, trying to place a hand on his shoulder so he doesn't leave. "We barely spend time together anymore and it feels like you carrier and hero ranking are becoming more important than our relationship."

"As a hero, I have to save people, of course it is!" He half shouts, as if what he just said is a foregone conclusion.

But these words, they were actually cold and hurtful for you to hear. For him to actually say that his hero job is more important than your relationship is more than cruel. It brings a heavy silence in the room and the way your hand moves away from him while you step away seems to make him realise the words that left his mouth and he immediately shakes his head.

"y/n-chan i-"

"No." You shake you head, letting out a sigh as you turn your back to him, going to grab your jacket. "No, you're right. We shouldn't fight and to do that, I think it's best if we both cool down individually."

"Wait, wha-what do you mean individually?" He asks, frowning slightly.

"I'll spend the night over at Denki's." You'd say as you grab your jacket and purse. "Let's talk when you've thought about what you really want." You say, ignoring how he stares at you, not knowing what to say or what to do.

Both angry and hurt, you wouldn't leave him the time to say anything before you walk out the door, slamming it shut in the movement.

Katuski Bakugo

Now bickering and small fights are common between you and Katsuki, especially with his explosive character.

It's not unusual for you two to fight and then make up an hour later because of a simple disagreement

However, the two of you fighting on a day where he's already in a bad mood tend to get out of hand.

This time was especially bad as Katuski happened to have met Izuku on a job and the green haired boy "stole" the criminal he was chasing.

You knew he was in a bad mood when he slams the door open and then shut, making a whole racket. He'd then stomp into the living room, eyes already burning with anger, showing you enough to know that it's not a good day. Yet, you'd still decide to come up to him, hoping to cheer him up with a hug or a kiss. You'd come greet him with a smile, wrapping your arms around his waist. Only to jump slightly when he scowls and push you away.

"Get off me." He grumbles with an agressive tone, keeping you at arm's length.

"Oh, so it's one of those days..." You respond with a nervous chuckle. "Bad, bad day?"

Katsuki would only hum in response, walking past you and not even throwing you a glance. It would make you raise an eyebrow, understanding that he really doesn't want to talk right now. With a sigh, you'd move away and leave him to cool down. Unfortunately, that happened to do nothing because even when he stayed in the same room as you, he wouldn't talk to you or even look at you. Visibly, some timeout wasn't enough for him to cool down.

You'd try to talk with him a little bit, without bothering him. You'd ask him what he wants to eat, if he wants to share a good and relaxing bath, or even if he wants to watch a movie together. You woudldn't get an answer at all, as Katsuki would continue to ignore you. It's when you'd prepare to go to sleep that you'd snap, letting out a sigh, standing in front of him and forcing him to look at you.

"Okay, so I get that it's a bad day, but that doesn't mean you should completely ignore my existence." You'd complain, yet try to keep him calm with a gentle smile.

"God, can't you take a fucking hint?" He'd snap in return, shaking his head. "Yes, I've had a bad day and I was really hoping you'd fucking leave me alone. But no ever since I came home, you've been on my back like a goddamn babysitter."

Hearing Katsuki swear and grumble at you is not something that never happens, so it doesn't take you off guard when he complains. Though this time you feel how he's directing his anger towards you instead of going out or doing something to blow out some steam like he usually does.

"Come on Kat, I noticed that you're angry, but maybe spending some time doing something relaxing might help. I only want to help." Your tone isn't specifically agressive or bad but it seems like he misunderstands it, gaze turning even more into a scowl.

"Fucking- On top of being goddamn annoying are you also fucking deaf?" This time he's really getting angry and you jump a little bit, moving back. "Spending some time relaxing, as you quote, means that I don't need you to fucking baby me. If anything it's even more annoying. You're too fucking clingy."

You'd stare at him in disbelief, knowing well that it's in his character to complain about everything and anything as well as saying things that he probably doesn't mean. However, just like him, there's a limit to your patience and hearing him vent on you without any sort of guilt would start to make you lost it.

"Hey I'm just trying to help you, don't try to make it sound like I'm doing a mistake." You complain in return, only for him to roughly shove you to the side while trying to move past you. "Hey, stop ignoring me!"

"God fucking damnit, leave me alone! You really are being a pain in the ass right now! What do I have to do to make you shut up? Send you out? Or should I leave in order to get even a minute of peace?"

Feeling angry and not wanting to see him anymore at this point, you'd throw your hands up in mock surrender while moving down the corridor to head towards your shared bedroom.

"You know what? Fuck you Katsuki I'm not something you can spend your nerves on." You'd slam the bedroom's door shut, taking him off guard in turn. "You can either sleep on the couch or fucking get out until you're ready to be a little less of an asshole!" You'd scream through the door, leaving him to stare at the wooden door, dumbfounded when he hears the lock click, letting him know that you just locked him out.

As he blinks and stares at the door, he can't help but groan, mentally cursing himself for letting his anger get to his head as it always does. Good job Katsuki, now she's mad, he thinks, angrily ruffling his own hair.

Shoto Todoroki

I feel like fights wouldn't happen very often because either of you want to avoid them

You wouldn't want to bother him and he doesn't like them because it reminds him of his childhood, so you both try to sort things out before it turns bad or blows out of proportion.

Yet it still happens every once in a while and it always makes the two of you feel horrible since it only brings out negative feelings and the risks of bad consequences

Moreover, as he's quite accomodating, it would need a lot like touching an all too sensitive nerve him Shoto to actually get mad at you

He would have probably fought with his dad when he comes back, because he'd look bothered even as he just arrives home. Though, you wouldn't even know he's mad until he'd come closer to you, meeting his eyes. He'd probably come and try to get some comfort to avoid being mad with you, laying his head on either your shoulder or your laps.

"Hey Sho... Everything alright?" You'd ask gently, carding a hand through his bicoloured hair.

"Hm... It's my dad..." The boy would mumble, letting out a sigh. "He keeps bothering me about you." He explains, making you a little confused and worried that it would be something bad.

"What did he say...?" You ask, a little hesitant to know what Endeavor would be saying, especially knowing how he is.

"He annoys me, asking about when we're supposed to get married, when we're going to start our family or other things like this." Shoto mutters, his frown deepening. "No matter how much I keep telling him that it's our life and not his, he doesn't want to understand."

The mention of marriage and family makes you take a small stop. You usually don't mention it because you never want to bother him, but it was something you've been thinking about and you'd lie if you didn't want it. And in some ways, the fact that Endeavor is starting to ask about it makes you realise that he's perhaps not the only one that thinks you and Shoto should move forward with your relationship.

"He does...?" You ask, uncertain. "And... what do you think about it, hm? Like... What do you think of all of that?"

"Love, we've already had this discussion." Shoto answers with a heavy sigh, bringing a hand to his eyes. "It's... not the moment, nor is it convenient."

"Yeah but... in a way, it's... Maybe it's time to take it into consideration." You'd try to reassure him with a kind smile. "We've been together for quite a long time... Maybe it would be time to start thinking about it."

The boy stops, turning to look at you with a gaze you can't quite understand. He seems a little annoyed but it also seems like he's trying to hide it. It's not too difficult for you to understand that you touched a subject that seems to be a little too sensitive or that at least, it was one that he didn't want to speak about.

"It seems it was a bad idea for me to come and talk to you about that." He'd simply states, moving away from his spot and standing up from where you're both sitting.

"Hey wait, I... I didn't think it would upset you, I'm sorry..." You'd apologize immediately, gently grabbing onto his hand. "I didn't think you would... dislike it that much."

"It's just that we have already talked about it. It's not something we're ready for and I'm not even sure if I want children, so I don't see the point of talking about it." Shoto explains, tone a little cold. "Moreover, I didn't expect you of all people to side with my father."

You'd lie if you said that hearing him disregard the fact that you might want to get married or want children didn't hurt. You know it's not what he intended to do but the way he says that as foregone conclusion brings a pang in you chest. Slowly, you'd let go of his hand, lowering your head and grabbing a pillow that you start to hug.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to upset you and for what it's worth, I'm not siding your dad. I'm just... saying how I feel..." You'd mumble, unsure what else to say.

Noticing how your body language changed and how you subconsciously scoot away from him, Shoto understands that he probably said something that was too much too. With a sigh, he'd come to pat your head, letting you know he noticed but he also decides to walk away, prefering to deal with his thoughts before coming back to you. Even if what he just said bothered you and made you feel a little bad, he doesn't want to make it worse and say something else that might hurt you.

Shiso Hitoshi

Fights and arguments are common for most couples, you included

You bicker a little often but big fight are not happening that common, it happens every once in a while, but not that often.

Most of the time, it was passive/agressive as I don't imagine Hitoshi to like screaming in a fight with you

However, the thing that would scare him the most when fighting with you would be to accidentally use his quirk on you considering how a mishap could easily happen if things get too heated

At first you had planned to surprise Hitoshi by coming into his dorm without warning him, knowing how he tends to like some surprise cuddles at the end of that every once in a while. However, that day you notice that he's not there yet when you arrive. Knowing how he always has some random trainings with Aizawa, you aren't that surprised. Which is the reason why you decided to wait for him.

You didn't expect it to take so much time that you had fallen asleep onto his bed while waiting. It's only when he shakes you awake that you'd open your eyes, a soft smile on your lips. However, it wouldn't stay on your face for a long time since Hitoshi's face didn't quite mirror yours, a frown on his face.

"Hey Toshi... You look tense. Everything okay?" You ask, tilting your head on the side.

"I'm tired." He sighs, rubbing his eyes. "What are you doing here?" He questions in a low voice.

"I thought I'd surprise you with some impromptu cuddles since I know you like that." Your lips turn into a small pout when you notice that the idea doesn't seem to change anything to his mood. "But it seems I miscalculated something."

"I admit that I would have appreciated a warning or a message." With a slow movement, he grabs your hand, helping you sit up and gives you a tired smile. "I didn't expect to see you and I don't think it's a good time to cuddle."

Your pout turns disappears, hopes falling a little bit. You know he's probably tired but cuddling isn't specifically something that requires effort. Hitoshi notices it and sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Sorry, it's just... I'm tired and I don't feel like... you know." He tries to explain in a hesitant tone. "You know I really like you but I don't feel like sleeping or being together right now. I'm too tired for it."

"I... I didn't know being with me meant that you had to do an effort or that you had to... force yourself..." You mutter dejectedly, not bothering that much to hide your disappointment.

"It's not that, it's just-" Hitoshi starts then cuts himself. "Can we please not do that right now? For once I feel like I'll be able to sleep, so I'd like to rest."

"Yeah, sorry. Aparently there are still some reflexes I need to get." You'd mumble while standing up and moving away from him. "Sorry to bother you, I'll let you sleep."

You know that you're probably exagerating slilghtly and that you're being salty but you were so happy to think of spending some time with your boyfriend and you end up being welcomed with an innuendo that your presence is tiring to him. Hitoshi turns around as he sees you walk past him.

"Wait, y/n, just wait a minute." He calls out as you respond with a short and dry 'what' that makes him sigh. "You know you don't bother me. I like having you around, it's just that... Aizawa stretched the training and really drained me... I'm really exchausted." He steps closer to you, trying to send you a gentle smile even though he's in your back. "It's just that whenever you're here I prefer to spend time with you and I force myself not to waste time, which in this situation would lead me to stay awake and I need to rest..."

Not hearing you respond makes him feel nervous as he's not sure if he just messed up big time. He lets out a sigh before taking in your posture and he frowns. He sees how your shoulders are completely relaxed and how your arms are strangely still on your sides. His heart breaks when he ends up in front of you and he notices your eyes.

How they're glazed over and there isn't a single emotion or thought going through them. In the matter of a second, Hitoshi releases the hold he has on your mind and he reaches out a shaky hand towards you. Only to see you take a step back in a mix of surprise and a flinch.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it. It was an accident." He rambles on, eyes wide and slightly panicked. "Please, it really was an accident."

"No, don't." You'd mutter under your breath, stepping aside. You know he wouldn't hurt you but for now, with what just happened, you need to breathe for a while. "I just- I need to breathe. I'll leave you to rest."

You'd move around him to be able to leave his room, Hitoshi only watching you as his hands shake, a lump forming in his throat. When the his room's door closes, letting him know you're definitely out he brings his two hands to his head, pulling on his hair out of frustration. He just couldn't have made things worse.

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #mha reaction #my hero academia reaction #bnha reaction #angst #midoriya #bakugo #shinsou #todoroki

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