#to help along the way and maybe find more clues about his condition

[eru-iru]

me and my need for bedman and faust friendship

[drdemonprince]

Your blog is like a breath of fresh air. Thank you for all the wonderful thoughts and writing.

That said I actually have a question. I am pro-palestine(it feels stupid to call it that, as if it should even be a debate) and in a very left leaning friend group. But also a very white academic one. You know the type, read Marx, dream of the revolution but continue studying to end up in 9 to 5s instead of doing anything(I am guilty of it too, this isn't meant as insult just a description)

Anyways, as you can imagine they have been extremely hesitant when it comes to having any opinion on Israel or Palestine. That wouldn't be a problem in itself, I know how to start topics with them and get them thinking usually but in this case there is an additional problem. Whenever I try to broach the topic I get shutdown with "Look at all the shit that is going on here, our country is falling into fascism, I just don't have the energy to deal with this conflict. Please don't talk about it because it's triggering". And I have zero clue what to do. Forget getting them to go on protests with me, I can't even speak to them about it and feel really guilty. Its me bringing up a heavily triggering topic after all. It feels wrong to feel guilty though. I know at the end of the day it's not important if I could convince some people to give a fuck but do you have any advice? How to get over this guilt or maybe how to broach a topic with that considered?

My main problem is my fear of losing my friends because I have been ill for some time(as in physically unable to leave the house for more than a short grocery run, or my visits to the doctor, because of pain and my friends are what keep me alive) and losing their help would be not good.

My exact situation aside, do you have advice for someone to broach a topic that others describe as unpleasant/triggering without causing a huge rift in the group?

Thanks for your kind words and your question, Anon.

I think your friends suck and that you can do better than them. I think you should get out there and find yourself some Black, brown, working class anarchist and anarco-communist buds (and Marxists who show up for others in a real, observable way in their regular lives) as soon as you can.

I know that wasn't the answer you were looking for. But I have seen this kind of entirely theoretical, jaded, self-superior, passive, white well-off Marxist type a thousand times before, and I've failed to ever see them show up for other people in any kind of consistent way.

And it's not only the people systematically crushed beneath the wheel of Capital half a world away that they neglect, either. They tend to be pretty shitty friends and neighbors when it all comes down to it on the micro-level, too. Their smug over-intellectualism and dispassionate cynicism allows them to justify remaining disengaged and going along with the status quo in a way that ultimately serves capitalism very well.

There is a theoretical basis to this selfishness and disengagement, I will admit. This type of overly academic Marxist typically believes that the fall of capitalism is inevitable, that humans lack free will and only behave as befits their obvious material interests, and that there is nothing that one can do on a personal level to hasten any kind of Revolution, so there is nothing left to do but wait, and take care of oneself, and allow the future to unfold.

This is a perspective explicitly advocated for by people like the Chapo Trap House guys, and among academic white boy communist types, it is incredibly popular. I remember hearing Matt Christman saying on his vlogs that he essentially does not believe the conditions allowing capitalism to fall will happen in his lifetime, and so his only responsibility is to just take care of himself and his family and be comfortable.

Ultimately, these types wind up sounding and behaving exactly like capitalist economists who believe that everyone is rationally motivated only by increasing their personal wealth. They are disengaged from politics except insofar as they like to make snide jokes about current events for their own entertainment and enrichment, and they don't see themselves as having the capacity to exert a positive influence on the world, nor any obligation to. It's bleak shit.

At the same time, if your friends are in the circles that tend to read and listen to and promote this kind of stuff, surely they have also been exposed to popular leftist voices advocating loudly for the Palestinian cause. And yet still they have done nothing.

Hasan Piker has been vocally pro-Palestine his entire career, and his Twitch channel has been providing near constant coverage of Palestinian issues since October 7th. True Anon has had multiple episodes on the Israel Lobby, the suppression of pro-Palestinian activism and journalistic coverage, and has aired interviews with Normal Finkelstein. Palestine is the central topic of nearly every Trillbilly Worker's Party podcast for months now.

These are widely popular voices among the very types of Marxists that you say that your friends are, and many of these creators are close friends with the Chapo Trap House guys, whom your friends almost certainly are taking notes from. So it's nearly impossible to imagine that your friends have not encountered the near constant coverage of the struggle of the Palestinians that all the rest of us have. And yet still your friends do nothing. Still they do not care, and dismiss you when you share with them how despairing you feel.

Your friends have turned off an essential part of their hearts, I think. And I don't mean they lack empathy. Not having empathy is fine, I don't have it either -- but I make the conscious choice to care about the Palestinian cause and to advocate for it, because it aligns with my values. I give a fuck. My giving a fuck is conveyed through my actions, not through what I think about or how I feel.

Your friends are showing no interest in learning more about this genocide or doing anything about it. Perhaps some degree of ignorance or hesitancy could be justified early on because the Israeli apologist propaganda is so far reaching, but we're well past the point of that explaining away inaction by now. Over 100,000 people are missing and over 30,000 are known to be dead and little girls are being shot by snipers while seeking medical care while babies are left to rot in their NICU beds.

Your friends know this. Maybe not everyone in the world does, but if they're so well-read about leftist issues, your friends do. And they have chosen, for some reason, not to care. They've disconnected from the pain the Palestinian people are in, unplugged from the steady stream of upsetting information, sought comfort in a politics that says all too conveniently that nothing they do matters, and when you try to share with them how much anguish you are feeling about the mass deaths happening throughout the world, they're dismissive toward you.

Your friends suck. If acknowleding reality and confronting the horrors of a genocide is too tough and triggering for them, then a lot of horrors here at home will be too much for their fragile egos too. There are so many leftists you could be surrounding yourself with instead, I promise -- people who give back to their communities, people who are in the streets doing the tough work of feeding and housing and fighting for the release from prison of people every day, instead of using those local struggles as a shield for their inaction on a more global scale.

Fuck these people for real. This is a big glaring red flag and it will be relevant to your friendship and your life. One day many of them might see you and your problems and your human needs as too much of a distraction from their dry academic jerk-off sessions too. I've seen it a dozen times. Sorry to be so blunt. But you seem like a person who is putting their attention in all the right places and I don't want to see that compassion squandered on people who won't ever show you the same consideration. You can find people who actually walk the walk, they're everywhere.

[by-soleil]

can't fight this feeling

Pairing: Mark Lee x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.7k+

Warning: One-sided love, Mutual pinning (?), Oblivious bestfriend(s), idk...

This fic was inspired by "Can't Fight This Feeling - REO Speedwagon"

•••

You remember it clearly. It was the morning of the very first day. The sun was unforgiving, blazing thru the thinnest of fabric that was your blouse. And it was only 9 in the morning. How you survived the rest of the day was still a mystery.

After sighing for the nth time, you try to scan the new surrounding. The unfamiliarity of it left you with an uneasy feeling. How exactly does one supposed to find where the ‘Neo Auditorium’ is after only being here once? Granted, it was your fault. It was you who skipped the unofficial tour of the ground in favor of getting your nails done.

You fish your phone out, maybe your friends replied to the text you sent before you started driving earlier. They should be here already, they should know where you’re supposed to be heading.

“Oh, crap.” you grit your teeth in annoyance. Checking once more if there are any clues about where that Neo place is in your group chat before locking your phone and threw it carelessly inside your purse.

“Screw it, I’ll find my way.” you mumble to yourself as you head towards the nearest walkway shaded by the tree.

Or so you thought.

What supposed to be a 4-minute walk from your car turned into a 30 minute of absolute confusion. Stopping at every directories for some sign only for you to find out weeks later that it hasn’t even been updated since God know when.

Just when you’re about to give up and just go back to your car for some air conditioning, someone approached you.

“Excuse me, do you need help?”

“Yeah, actually. l think I’m lost, I’ve walked around probably a thousand times to look for that damned Neo-something and somehow just ended up back here. My head hurts and I haven’t broke into these shoes ugh I feel like—“ you abruptly stop, realizing you just overshared and probably scare the only person that might actually help you. “I’m sorry, I’m mumbling. Yeah, a help would be nice.” you smile shyly.

The man in front of you gulped. A bit flustered with how fast you were talking. Then he chuckled. “It’s fine, you’re good. You’re looking for the Neo Auditorium, eh?” he asks, still chuckling lightly.

You nod, questioning weather you should feel offended that the man in front of you can’t seem to stop chuckling.

“I’m heading that way, actually. I’m guessing we’re in the same class. I could show you where it is.”

“Ugh, thank God!” you grunt, feeling relieved. Sipping what’s left of your watered down iced coffee, you nod to him. “Let’s go.”

“Umm, actually, can you wait a sec? I need to go to the bathroom. I’ll be quick I promise.” The man in front of you hold his hand up as if to assure you he wasn’t lying.

A chuckle slipped out of your mouth and you nod before following the man towards the bathroom.

“I’m Mark, by the way.” the man walking next to you introduced himself. Making sure his hands are dry by patting it on his shirt before offering it for you to shake.

After introducing yourself, you arrived in front of a big wooden door with a big slab of glass running through the middle of it.

“You can sit next to me, the seats in front are all taken I think.” Mark offers kindly. Which of course you accept, a friendly face was exactly what you needed that day.

And that’s how you met Mark, your dearest, closest best friend.

Throughout the years, you and Mark become inseparable. It is not a strange thing for someone to ask you where Mark is when his phone is unreachable. Reserving two seats for you knowing Mark would also tag along anyway.

Here’s the thing, being around Mark is easy and comfortable. He feels like home.

Mark is your person as you are his. You tell Mark everything and he also tells you everything about him. Well, most things.

Countless nights spent with you burning his ears off talking about your shitty love life. How your ocean-deep love for Haechan is never reciprocated.

Mark is a great listener, he might never give you any advice on how to deal with your stupidity when it comes to Heachan—sometimes you wonder why, cause he seems to always have an opinion about everything else—but you don’t care. All you needed was to be heard. To feel heard. And Mark give you just that.

“What’s up, lover boy?” Jaemin greets Mark when he set his book bag down near the couch.

“Shut up, man.” He jokingly brush him off. Taking the guitar and placing it on his lap.

Jeno then pops out of nowhere, startling both Mark and Jaemin. “You coming tonight, lover boy? You know Haechan always throw the best parties.” he wiggles his brows.

“Of course Mark is going, his little girlfriend is gonna be there. Where is she, anyway? Aren’t you guys supposed to be glued together or something?” Jaemin continue to tease.

Mark taps the guitar strings, “First of all,” then he strums a chord, “not my girlfriend.” his slender fingers quick to adjust to another chord before strumming once more. “Second, she’s getting her nails done.” another strum of the guitar follows before he quietly murmured “for Haechan’s party.”

“How are you the smartest person I know yet capable of being this stupid?” Jeno tsks, shaking his head as he head for the fridge.

“Remind me to never let you copy my assignments from now on.” Mark jokes. Knowing exactly what Jeno is implying with him being stupid.

Mark never know that it would end up like this. What started out as friendship has grown stronger. At least for him.

Maybe it was the way you always put everyone else’s feelings before yours. Accommodating people’s wants and needs, even if it means going the extra miles.

Always so kind towards other people yet never really expect the same from them. Always so selfless, smiling through the inconvenience people threw your way. Mark knows that you know you can say no. You just choose not to. Making him want to be the person you could rely on.

Or maybe it was your pure heart. You love hard, you really do. Too bad it’s never to the right person. What a shame, really.

Mark wishes he had the strength to show his feelings. The courage to just shut you up when you tell him that you feel like shit and unwanted. To kiss the pain from your voice away. To show you how amazing you really are. How you deserve to be treated.

Mark though it was only a phase. Maybe the endless hours spent together, be it studying or just hanging out in your room was taking a toll on him. But, nowadays he started to doubt himself.

“Yeah, right.” he often find himself mumble quietly, running circles inside that big ass head of his—yes, you’ve confirmed it. Mark has a big ass head. Making him all the more grateful you always gift him beanie and bucket hat instead of baseball cap. Truth be told, he’d love it regardless.

Mark tried plenty of times, he went on dates. Yet, his mind kept on wondering whether you’ve had dinner or not. Or would you like the gnocchi he’s been playing with through his entire date. Or is the music that’s been quietly playing in the background would suit your questionable music taste. Everything just somehow linked back to you.

Most of the girls were nice, hell, all of them were nice. But they’re just not you.

Sometimes, he’d think it was his ego. His needs to be needed. You were so out of it and all over the place sometimes, makes him want to take care of you. You make him feel good about a lot of things.

“You look very pretty.” you hear Mark say when you step into his car. Grinning widely when you roll your eyes.

“I’m gonna shoot my shot tonight, Markie! It’s now or never. I’m tired of Haechan only seeing me as friends. I mean, I’m not all that bad, right? I’m pretty—like you just said. I’m always cheerful. I could make a great girlfriend. Don’t you think?” you bring your body forward, pestering your bestfriend for some validation. You need all the ego boost you could get for tonight.

Mark could feel his gut stirring inside. Tonight, huh?

“Earth to Markie! Hello?” you wave a hand in front of his face.

“My bad, I just randomly thought of something. Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Mark scrambles to turn the car on.

“Yeah, what? Are you okay, dude?” you ask genuinely concern. Your bestfriend was never the type to get all panicky. Something must’ve going on.

“Yeah, you’d make a great girlfriend.” was the last thing Mark said to you through the entire 20-minute ride to Haechan’s house.

What was supposed to be ‘the night’ for you, took turn for the absolute worst.

You were so eager to find Haechan as soon as you step into the party. The music blasting from the speakers pumping adrenaline straight to your gut.

Light airy steps got heavier the more you step into the living room. The visual of Haechan shoving his tongue down someone’s throat is all you could focus on. Smiling into the kiss like some simp in love.

Your vision’s getting blurry from the hot tears threatening to spill out. The air feels thick, the smell of booze doesn’t smell like a good time no more.

You didn’t feel the arm that suddenly wrapped around your shoulder, turning you around towards the front door. Helping you walk on your trembling limbs.

Everything was happening so fast. One second you were standing on Haechan’s living room grasping for air and the next you’re bawling your eyes out in your bestfriend’s arm. Soiling his ironed Ralph Lauren shirt with mixture of hot tears and snot.

Mark was there. Mark is always there. By your side as you pick up your shattered heart, gluing it back to together. He even helped gluing some of the pieces.

Mark was there, waiting patiently as you slowly turned back into your old self. The one he fell in love with.

Maybe what happened that night was for the best. Mark feel bad for feeling this way, but that was what you needed to finally get over Haechan.

You no longer fix your hair when Haechan walks by. You no longer care whether Haechan’s gonna be at the hang out later or not. You are over him.

“Wanna go get some Korean food?” Mark suggests over the phone.

“Kimchi jjigae?” you elaborate. Earning a groan from him.

“Something else. Literally anything except that.”

“Literally what is your problem with kimchi jjigae, Mark?!” you sound offended. Though it’s true you started eating kimchi jjigae just so you can resonate with Heachan, but over the time, you genuinely enjoy it. Annoying Mark everytime.

“I’m sick of it.” Mark groans. Never actually made his peace with the stuff you adopted when you were still head over heels towards Haechan.

“Then you pick! You know what? You’re pissing me off lately. Get that stick out of your ass before you come and talk to me!” you hang up the call before throwing your phone towards your bed.

Mark’s hands smacking the steering wheel repeatedly. Frustration consumes the better part of him. “What the fuck is your problem, dude?” Mark shouts to himself.

“Can’t fucking man up, I know that’s what.” Mark answer himself. Turning his car engine on before zooming to your place.

You barely caught you breath after cursing the hell out of Mark after the call ended earlier when someone—you obviously know who it is—starts pounding on your door.

“Open the door, please. I need you to hear me out.” Mark pleas, sounding way too soft for someone who just drove twenty miles above the speed limit all the way to your place.

You stand up immediately, stopping before you turn the door knob separating the two of you. “Are you done being an asshole? Cause I don’t have the energy to fight with you, Mark.”

“Please, open the door.” his plea sounds a lot sadder that before, weaken your pounding heart.

There are a bunch of things you expect when opening the door, but Mark, down on his knees looking defeated and red was definitely not one of them.

Mark breathes out you name, face looking up. He looked… nervous?

“I am sorry,—”

“As you should be,” you cut him off.

“Not just about earlier,” he paused, raising to his full height. Making you look up in the process. “But also for what I’m about to do”

Mark didn’t let you say anything before stepping into your personal space, catching you off guard. His hands fly up to cup each side of your face, causing heat to spread all over your body.

He breathes out your name wholeheartedly, “My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you that day. The day you were lost and can’t find our class. I’ve been running round in circles ever since. You take me to the places that alone I’d never find.”

“What are you saying, Mark?” your voice came out more like sigh.

“I can’t fight it no more. I can’t fight this feeling anymore.” Mark breathes heavily before leaning down and crashing his lips into yours.

The kiss was anything but sweet, it was filled with rage and desperation. It was filled with needs, it was like the kiss was the only thing keeping him alive. He doesn’t want the kiss, he needs it.

The shocked you felt was quickly washed off by the heat radiating from his soft lips working its way in against yours. Begging to be let it. Begging for you.

Your limp hands somehow find its strength to circle his waist, welcoming him with open arms as your lips do the same.

“What the fuck was that?” you laugh in his face when Mark finally have the decency to let you breathe.

He joins your chuckle as he connects your forehead with his. “Guess it finally get too much to handle.”

“What is?” your hands play with the hair on his nape.

“My feelings for you.” his voice lowers in volume.

You scoff, “You don’t get to feel shy after you just kissed me like a madman starving.” you try to pinch his sides. Earning a laugh so crisp you can’t help to join in.

“What took you so long?” you ask, outing yourself of knowing about his feelings already. Though it is obvious, you yourself are also afraid of pulling the trigger. Not wanting to lose the precious connection you and Mark have shared over the years.

“You knew?!” Mark shrieks in absolute horror.

You smack his forearm, “Everyone with brain size bigger than a shot glass would know, Markie!”

“Then why didn’t you say anything.” he pester, eyes still bulging out.

“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t wanna risk it. What we have, you know? And I know you’d break, eventually.”

“Of course, cause if it’s me begging on my knees it wouldn’t be a problem.” he rolls his eyes.

You stand on your tippy toes before landing a quick smooch on his lips. “Just like what I planned.”

“You little minx!” he bops your nose before throwing you on the bed, joining your laugh as you try to crawl away.

Things turned out way better than neither of you expected. The afternoon spent laughing, pointing out the times any of you showed affection more than what a friend should. Laughter and shrieks of embarrassment filled the small space of your bedroom. With the craving for kimchi jjigae long forgotten.

[cheemken]

Okay this is a cool blog I love all the Drayton stuff the angst it fuels me. Something about wanting to see your fav put into situations

For an angsty scene, I like to think that the Terrarium can still be dangerous if someone gets caught off guard. Maybe Drayton's been training in the Polar Biome and all his Pokemon are exhausted. His plan is to find a rest area to heal up.

Maybe on the way he got blindsided by a wild Pokemon or its attack (the Beartics in that always chase me lmao). Got knocked out for a bit and when he rouses, he realises that adrenaline is one hell of a drug. Gotta go find help or something cause it messed up his ankle and he's got no mons to help. His Rotom Phone either ran out of juice or broke from the attack

Just thinking about him stumbling his way through the snow, always tripping and falling without a support stick or something. Pain and fear warred within him and he's just trying to get somewhere safe

Maybe E4 realises something's up when they try to contact Drayton but it says it's not available after he missed something he promised to attend. Just picturing them heading out to find clues on what happened till it led them to the Polar Biome, where they sent out a search until they found him, battered and one step away from a panic attack but, y'know, alive

Omfsss imagine tho him beating himself up bc he wasn't that fit to run such distance from wild pokemon, also the wild pokemon suddenly attacking him too, and he's there going on abt if he just really tried to keep up w Drayden's training, then maybe he'd be able to really fight back even without his pkmn; but he didn't, and it sucks, and now he's trying to find a safer place to stay, hoping help will arrive soon

But also tho imagine him thinking that no one's gonna help him, that maybe people thought he was just slacking somewhere else, that he's probs sleeping in the club room or inside one of the abandoned and empty classrooms, and the fear creeps up on him y'know, it scares him that maybe his laziness would really be the reason for his downfall like everyone said it'd be. Just him finally finding a place to hide, but the fear is still there y'know, the paranoia he has that maybe the others won't bother finding him, that they really think he's just taking a nap somewhere and forgot abt their lil meet up

And soon that fear starts to build up, that paranoia along with his self loathing just clawing out from within his chest, he wants to scream. He can feel his breath hitch, his chest feels tight, tears threatening to fall, Arceus he really was a failure

When helped finally arrived, he almost thought he was just hallucinating from the fatigue, that the Crispin and Lacey and Amarys he sees are just figments of his imagination, his own mind messing w him even more, but no, those really are his friends, and it only took for Crispin to call out his pokemon to help warm Drayden up

Imagine him just gripping Crispin's arms tight, grounding himself too. Crispin was warm, he doesn't wanna let go, god he hasn't stopped shivering. Amarys and Crispin had to help him up to take him outta there, Lacey was there carrying the pokeballs Drayton has, half muttering how all his pokemon are in no condition to fight anymore, Lacey's there reassuring him that they'll have all his pokemon healed

When they got him to the nurse's office imagine them not wanting to leave this side tho hahah like, that's their friend, no, they won't leave him behind again, doesn't matter how long they have to wait for him to recover and wake up again, they won't ever leave his side again

[f1tyreslightmyfyre]

We Go Together - Ch. 3

Series Main List

A Jedi!Charles x TIE Fighter Pilot!Max Star Wars AU

Ch. 3 Warnings: Explicit NSFW 18+ Smut (first-time, slight dub-con, frottage); explicit language; hurt/comfort; head wound; discussion of war and death; forced drug addiction (by the Imperial Navy) and associated withdrawal; family separation; Charles tries his hand at teaching and probably needs help

He doesn’t know why he’s still here. The storm broke in the day’s early hours, and even though thick grey clouds still blanket the sky, there’s nothing holding him here. Except… he doesn’t bring himself to move from where he sits on the green, grassy expanse that overlooks the churning sea below. 

The grave of his fighter. And by all rights, it should be his grave, too. 

But instead, he sits just outside the dwelling of the man who saved him, and the strong onshore wind fills his lungs with brackish air. He’s never given a second thought to small, suffocating spaces, but there's just… something about being surrounded by so much open wilderness. Something that whispers along his skin, something that surrounds him and scratches at his soul.

But maybe that’s also Charles’ fault. The man has been nothing but overgenerous, whether in his portions of food or procurement of clothing that fits his broader frame. Nor in sharing his wild theories about TIE pilots’ conditioned mental and physical states… nor in his inquisitive looks with those bright green eyes.

He doesn’t think that he’s ever seen their equal. Not... not that he’s ever thought to look before. 

“I like it.” Charles interrupted gently, flashing a warm, appreciative smile. “It suits you, Max.” 

His frown deepens. He still doesn’t know what to make of that name, either. 

Max. 

At least it’s simple and direct. And, loathe as he is to admit it, Charles’s rationale behind the origin of it does make some sense. But does he dare actually consider using it? Perhaps it would be helpful to ward against any anti-Imperial sentiments as he works his way back to the nearest outpost. Or perhaps it could prove equally useful to root out traitors and rebels and bring them justice. 

A strange, uncomfortable feeling rots in his stomach at the thought. His jaw tenses with frustrated uncertainty as he stares harder out at the sea, watching waves crash into the jagged shoreline. Even with the worst of the supposed withdrawal behind him and the bandage removed from his head, he still doesn’t understand what’s happening to him. 

Why does he notice things that he previously hasn’t? Why does he have doubts that he’s never harbored before? Why is he so absent of that determined clinical drive and instead just content to sit here in the grass as the breeze ruffles his hair? 

His hand clenches at his side in a rush of unbidden muscle-memory reflex. A stab of irritation lances through him as he glares down at it and forces himself to stretch out his fingers, to roll out the tense line of his jaw. He winces at the ache in his muscles and joints as if… as if they’d been locked in tension for so long that they don’t know any other way to exist. 

Another sour wave rolls through his stomach and he swallows against a suddenly dry throat, darting his gaze back out over the midnight sea. 

Maybe… just maybe Charles is right…

But that thought conjures other disturbing, more concerning questions. If Charles is indeed telling the truth, then just how exactly did Charles acquire this knowledge? How can Charles possibly know what the Imperial Starfighter Corps did to him when he himself didn’t even have a clue? He closes his eyes and tries to focus on what he knows about Charles, to find some hint that might betray him. But the only thing that comes to mind is Charles’ unusual, bewitching accent. 

Now that he thinks about it, Charles' accent isn’t far from the elegant, rounded tones of Corulag. Indeed, wouldn’t Charles be the model Corulag Imperial Military Academy student all buttoned up in the severe uniform tunic with his unruly curls tamed by the boxy, standard-issue hat.

That would indeed explain how Charles knows so much. 

His jaw tenses again as a wave of anger rises within him. He may have been at Charles’ mercy since crash landing here - but that’s all going to change. He refuses to let this rotten deserter succeed in abandoning his duty. 

Maybe arriving at the Imperial Output with a worthless traitor as his prisoner will quickly help restore him to active flight status. That’s all he wants, really.  

He isn’t dead. He will keep flying. 

Staring out at the sea, he wills his ship to rise and ignores the disconcerting itch that grows along his skin in response.

Charles walks across the grass, curls catching in the strong onshore wind. It brings the smell of distant rain and ozone, promising another storm on approach. 

He hefts his satchel, adjusting the strap on his shoulder as he crests the hill towards his seaside dwelling. While living at the Jedi Temple - in the middle of a city planet - his youthful fantasy of living on the coast of a sea had been nothing more than a far-fetched dream. But if there is one insignificant upside to exile and extinction, then maybe his cozy, seaside abode is it. 

As he approaches the familiar dark outline, he sees the sharp figure of the pilot. Max sits in the grass with his knees bent, long arms resting atop the joints as he stares out at the rolling, dark blue waves. 

Max’s face betrays his thoughts about the sunken fighter, as does the confused conflict mixed with a strange determination that rolls off him through the Force. No doubt, if Max could recover his ship, he’d fly away just as quickly as he arrived, and the thought piques Charles' curiosity. 

Just how much does Max know about the Force? Does he know that such feats are indeed possible? Does he feel Charles' emotions buzzing along his skin with the same energy as he can feel Max’s? But even if he does, does he know what it means? 

Shoving a hand in his pocket, Charles strolls over towards Max, careful to keep his stride open and easy. Every Force-sensitive nerve ending in him lights up as he stops alongside Max. “I’m glad to see you outside,” he says, looking out over the churning water. “The fresh air is good for you.” 

“Even if it is,” Max sharply answers without looking at him. “I told you that I wasn’t staying.” 

Charles nods for a quiet moment before speaking. “Where will you go?” 

“The nearest Imperial Outpost, of course.” 

"That will still be easier to do with a name, Max." He glances down tentatively. "Have you given that some more thought?"

The pilot's face is disconcertingly neutral as he gives a perfunctory nod. "It is serviceable." 

It's a better answer than Charles has hoped for. A grin tugs at his lips. "I'm glad to hear that. Well, now that you have a name… you'll also need credits for a transport."

Max shakes his head tersely. “Any citizen of the Empire should do their duty to ensure that I can do mine.” 

Charles bites back the wry edge of his smirk. "That kind of loyalty isn't always easy to find here in the outer rim.” 

“Anyone who stands in my way is guilty of treason.” 

Charles blinks down at Max in a moment of consideration before dropping his gaze to the grass and shuffling his feet. He pulls a hand from his pocket, rubbing a non-existent itch on the tip of his nose. “We used to have a garrison here. Some years ago." He says gently. "With full ground and air support.” 

Max’s face visibly perks as he fixes his sharp eyes on Charles. In the muted, cloudy light, those crystal blue depths threaten to drown him and the Force whispers for him to dive in without remorse. A startling, primal connection to this man snaps in place, making Charles' blood run cold. It doesn't make sense - never before has the Force ever compelled him so strongly towards another person. But the longer he loses himself in Max's eyes - just as beautiful as the sea, and just as tempestuous - the more he realizes that the Force has brought Max into his life for a reason.

If only he understands what that reason is.

The silence stretches out, and with a sigh to calm his restless thoughts, Charles lowers to sit in the grass. He folds his legs underneath him as Max's hard gaze never waivers. It should probably be unnerving how much the pilot stares at him, but Charles has become accustomed to it. 

Max’s curious voice carries on the wind. “What did the inhabitants of this planet do to warrant a full garrison? That’s a lot of firepower.” 

Charles wets his upper lip, remembering those dark days all too well. “Rumor had it that they offered sanctuary to an exiled Jedi Knight.” 

Max’s face hardens. “If they were indeed harboring an enemy of the Empire, a posted garrison sounds merciful.” 

“Their ruthless hunt was anything but merciful.” 

Max hums quietly, turning away in a moment of consideration before speaking. “I guess the rumors must have been inaccurate since the garrison detached and this world continued to survive.” He blinks back over at Charles. “Did you hear why the garrison left?” 

Charles’ throat tightens. “Rumor was…" his voice trails off as he forces a hard swallow. “Rumor was that they found the Jedi Knight in question dead on another planet.” 

“Master, this doesn’t make sense - please.” Charles pleaded, looking at the taller woman as she stuffed a satchel with food and clothing. 

“I will not stay and endanger these people, Charles. And us traveling together will raise even more suspicion.” Her words were muffled by the clanking of metal tins filled with preserved fish as she packed her bag. “The Empire knows my name, and they know that I’m here. If they don’t know about you, then I would have it stay that way.” 

Charles drew a shaky breath, still trying to make sense of the situation. “Will… will you come back for me?” 

Her movements slowed as she turned to him with a hesitant, fond smile. “If the Force wills it, I shall return once it is safe to do so. But be honest with yourself, my dear Padawan - you’ve been ready to face the galaxy on your own for some time now.” 

He fought back the rising disappointment and accompanying restless sigh, unable to deny the truth of her words. 

Her smile filled out as she stepped closer. “I know that you’re disappointed, Charles. Any Padawan on the precipice of taking the Trials would feel the same. If it were my decision, you would already bear the title of Jedi Knight.” Her purple eyes sparkled with familiar, caring encouragement. “You’re more ready than you’ll ever know - and you're certainly a more diligent student and Padawan than I was at your age.” 

Charles’ cheeks flushed. “Thank you, master. That’s… high praise. Especially considering that I… I may never be a Knight now, and I… I don’t wish to fail you.” 

“And that’s how I know that you’ll stay true in the difficult days ahead.” She placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. “Remember your training and keep the Force as your guide. Grow with it, learn from it, keep it as your ally - and you will not have failed me.” 

“Good.” Max’s voice jars Charles from the memory as the pilot nods sharply. “Traitors to the Empire don't deserve to live.” 

Charles’ eyes narrow, but he swallows his bitter tone. “Traitors who betray their allegiance should be held accountable, but I have never believed that of the Jedi Order.” 

Max stiffens, his face creasing with surprised displeasure. A thrill of satisfaction flares in Charles’ chest. If Max has indeed spent his entire life with the Empire’s dogma rammed down his throat, then he’s long overdue to learn the truth and gain some perspective. 

At length, Max’s gaze turns decisively murderous. “Then, I would have to call you a hypocrite.” 

Charles doesn’t see the pilot move, but the energy in the air tenses and shifts. Max’s solid weight crashes into him, knocking him over into the grass. The back of Charles’ head connects with the hard ground, a grunt punching from his chest as Max bears down on him. His thighs are bracketed on either side by the pilot’s knees as the broader man looms over him, a hand tight around his throat. 

“You talk about allegiance,” Max hisses. “But you’ve overplayed your hand, traitor.”

Charles stares up into Max's mesmerizing stormy gaze, shaking his head feebly against the pilot’s grip. “I am not a traitor, mate.” 

“I am not your mate.” Max squeezes a little harder, shifting to straddle Charles’ upper thighs and gaining leverage to better immobilize him. “I do not befriend fucking deserters.” 

“Deserter…?” Charles repeats, voice rough and eyes wide. “Of all the ridiculous nons-” His words choke off as Max jerks his head against the ground. 

“You know too much to fool me.” The words cut with ice, lancing shivers down Charles’ spine. “Or have you forgotten how you lectured me on the manipulations of the pilot corps? How you told me about the drugs in my air supply?” 

The strong hand around Charles’ throat disappears, darting up to tangle in Charles’ curls and wrench his head back. Charles gasps at the sudden motion, his bared throat flexing on display as unbidden arousal slams through him. Coupled with the warm weight of Max’s body on his thighs, over his groin - he struggles to breathe, to will his growing erection into submission. 

Max leans down low, hot breath gusting against Charles’ ear as he pulls on Charles’ curls. “Now I ask myself,” Max whispers low and dangerous. “How could you possibly know all of that - any of that - unless you have prior experience with it?” He screws his fingers tighter in Charles’ hair. “Now, tell me.” 

Charles groans, fighting for control. He’s impossibly hard now and mildly surprised that Max hasn't commented on it given the pilot's pressure on his hips. He can admit that he’s made a point not to look too closely at Max’s body since his arrival, but he can’t deny that Max is strikingly handsome with a body that would tempt even the most celibate. And while Jedis are forbidden from attachment and most chose celibacy to deter it, Charles has never made that distinction. But after so many years exiled on this planet, Charles hasn’t been so close to anyone in so long. Let alone someone so handsome who finds the erogenous zone of Charles’ hair. 

Oh, Force, he’s in trouble. He struggles to keep his hips from thrusting up, trying to find words through labored breaths. After all, hasn’t Max asked him a question…? 

Another strong tug makes Charles bite his lip to stifle a moan, tasting copper on his tongue. Max’s words rumble against the shell of his ear. “Answer me, deserter.”

The stern command demands complete surrender, and Charles' control breaks, bucking his hips up into the solid heat above him. His breath catches at the pleasurable sensation as a new discovery dawns on him. Again, he rolls his hips, dizzy to find Max's erection just as hard and hot against him. 

A growl tears from Max’s lips as his grip tightens. “Stop that… Charles-” His words dissolve into a moan as Charles thrusts their arousals together. 

Charles groans in return, heart galloping. Is he really going to do this? Would it really be so easy to turn the tide with such a distraction? 

Max abandons Charles’ hair, reaching for his arms and pinning each to the ground. The shift in leverage puts more downward force on Max's hips, leaving any less doubt about his arousal as he glares down at Charles, eyes dark with feral desire. “What-” Max grits through clenched teeth as Charles rolls their hips together again. “What are you doing to me?” 

Charles freezes, his heavy-lidded eyes flying open with surprise. “What do you… you can’t mean…” Charles pauses, licking his lips as he fights for clarity through the fog of arousal. “You mean to say that you’ve… never felt this?” He rolls his hips languidly, pressing their hard cocks together. “Or done this… with another person?” 

Anger flashes in the tempest of Max’s eyes as he jerks a hand back to Charles’ throat, hard against his raging pulse, and forces his head back to expose his neck. “You think you’re so clever?” Max hisses sharp words into his ear. “You talk about manipulation - yet here you are… manipulating my body in such ways.” 

“Oh, mate - I’m not clever and this is no manipulation.” Charles forces a hard swallow against the pressure of Max’s heavy hand. “Your body is made for so much more than just flying and hunting… and if the Empire took that from you, too, to make you a better weapon of war, then you have my condolences. Truly.” He moves his free hand to Max’s backside, exaggerating a groan as he grips the firm muscles, finding leverage to thrust against. He bares his throat further, gaze heavy with intent. “Truly, there’s little else so enjoyable… so pleasurable. It’s… what's life without pleasure, hmm?"

Charles builds a slow, grinding rhythm and watches Max’s resolve crumble. Fuck, it’s such a gorgeous sight. Max’s cheeks turn pink, his eyes dark and wild with obvious conflict about the sensations in his body as Charles holds him close. The Force sings between the tight press of their bodies, a blissful vitality hot with electric current. 

Maybe it’s wrong, but Charles throws the last bit of caution to the wind. It may have been more years than he wants to admit, but he still remembers how to move, how to sound, how to bite his lip and entice his partner. 

“Charles, don’t-” Max groans, his hold on Charles’ throat loosening. “... Don't!” He shifts atop Charles, resulting in the long, delicious drag of their cocks, and white-hot want rockets up Charles’ spine. 

“Oh, Force,” Charles moans, gripping Max’s backside harder. His mind spins as Max's hips thrust forward again, and the air sparks against his skin. “Oh, fuck… do it again.” 

“Fuck.” Max growls, radiating unhinged desperation and raging frustration. The intense energy rolls off him, threatening to suffocate Charles with each push and pull of their hips.

The pleasurable coils at the base of Charles' spine wind tighter, and… oh, fuck. This is it - he's going to come in his trousers like a teenager all over again - but has it ever felt this good? Max’s ragged breathing hitches, choking off a blissful cry in Charles' ear as his hips stutter and stall. Charles' own release surges through him, intoxicated by the blinding satisfaction that permeates every facet of Max's being.

His mind floats in delirium as he blinks up at Max, watching the pilot gasp for breath. Max's face contorts almost painfully as the overwhelming intensity of orgasm fades to afterglow. Charles’ heart breaks, wanting to wrap Max in the tightest hug and whisper every reassurance he knows against the pilot's skin.

Slowly, Charles licks his lips and sighs with heavy contentment. “Well, that… that was quite the unexpected detour, but most… certainly most welcome.” He drifts a lazy hand up the curvature of Max's spine. 

“I don’t… you just….” Max gasps for words as he slumps against Charles, still undone from the rush. A suffocating panic grows in the air, a distress that slices through the lazy sway of euphoria.

“Just breathe.” Charles coaxes, concern creasing his brow. “You’re alright.” 

“No!" Max hisses, still panting as if he’s drowning. “No, it… this-!” 

Charles’ heart pangs as Max’s distress grows. His instincts tug at him to reach out, to extend Max a wave of calming reassurance - but that feels like a manipulative betrayal. There's nothing that Max should fear about this, and he should be allowed to experience it all. 

But in his hesitation, Max slumps against him with closed eyes. His breathing evens out and the anxious energy radiating from him fades. As Charles bears the heavy weight on his chest, he isn't sure if the panic is a lasting side effect of the pilot corps' drugs or if he simply just hyperventilated in the first rush of powerful emotion.

Either way, he cards a comforting hand through Max’s soft hair and brushes a kiss to his brow. “Rest now, mate.” He breathes against Max’s overheated skin. “It’s alright.” 

[cold-arrow]

Doctor’s Notes, Book 7 part 6 A Court of Storms

| Failed intentions. | Summary, Things of note since last entry: Omrick’s report, Ymira, Nym. -- Serissa’s condition. Uthor’s Advice, exploring the stronghold. Finding Nym’s room. The small steam Mephits, pocketing some peculiarities. Mirran, Uthor, and Nym’s items/treasure, a lack of guards.

Back to Waterdeep, thanking Jarvis. Lym’s merchant trip. Crafting?, research? , inspecting items, Nero,? practicing making jewellery !

| 1 / 3 | We found Omrick. Alive, surprisingly. But… not with good news. After jumping after him into the pool to give chase to Nym as well as Ymira, we found him stubbornly climbing the sides of the maelstrom, as the  “anchor”  of all this shit he wears, tried to weigh and sink him back down. Still, he somehow successfully managed to climb his way back up along the sides of the maelstrom. And noticed us.

Ymira… had gotten away. Had taken the sceptre, and disappeared or flew off. And she’d killed Nym. Torn her to shreds, is what he told us…

I don’t really know how to feel about that. She betrayed her sister, poisoned by the lies of that  Snake    Only to have her throat slit. And when Omrick tried to save her, spare her from dying. She instead was torn to shreds, as Ymira revealed her true draconic form.

Any faint hope of saving her, bringing her back. Was shattered and destroyed when he told us that she’s been dismembered…

I… I don’t feel like she deserved that kind of fate. No one does.   I cannot help but feel responsible for her death. That if we’d just waited. Or if I’d done things differently, she wouldn’t haven ended up with this… kind of miserable fate.

Can’t really help but grief for her still, even now… it’s strange.

Perhaps the brutal murder and death of one’s family… just hit me harder than expected. --

By the time we got back to the throne room, it was mostly empty. Only Uthor, Serissa’s uncle and advisor, was still there. Sceptical of what we told him. What we explained. I don’t blame him. Our actions got one of his own family killed.  

Serissa had been taken away to safety. So that could try and figure out what was ailing her. Whatever the nature was of the curse that paralyzed her, it isn’t really something that’s easily cured it seems.

I wish I could help, but I don’t think, or doubt they’ll let me.

We inquired a bit more about Ymira, and though sceptical he might be of what we told him about her. He atleast seemed willing to help and answer some questions.

Unfortunately she doesn’t have a place of residence here. A room that we might search for clues. Or evidence, or anything else.

She apparently travelled a lot. Only showing up for important meetings. Instead though, he told us we could search Nym’s room. If  that would perhaps help. Find the book, or notes that we searching for maybe there. He gave us permission to have a look around. She didn’t need the room anymore anyways.

Some guards had gone to check on the tank with orca’s by Nym, where… she’d been left. What was left.

| 2 / 3 |

Took us a while to find Nym’s room. The instructions Uthor gave us weren’t particularly detailed. We managed to find his room, With Nym’s supposedly being close by. But it wasn’t the easiest thing to find. While looking around near his study however, I did find a rather peculiar astrolabe, or astrolabe?

An… incredibly intricate and detailed piece. Far more that it would normally have to be. Though it was of gnomish make, as far is I could tell, it unfortunately didn’t have a signature. I’d be honoured though to meet whomever made this.

Felt a bit guilty about taking it, after the help Uthor gave us. Though after some coaxing from the others, I did decide to take it with me. -- I indeed doubt he’ll get much use out of it, considering its made for smallfolk. Though that doesn’t mean I still don’t feel guilty about taking it.

Something else caught my attention on his work table as well.

Almost missed it at first. The scattered clockwork pieces. Saying that it was a bit of puzzle, to figure out   What   it even was even originally supposed to be, would be an understatement. The best I could tell, it were the remains, and scattered broken pieces, of some sort of miniature underwater ship. Designed for sailing, or traversing underwater. Quite a quaint, and intriguing concept. So, hesitantly, I decided to take the broken and scattered remains of it, with me as well. To research and have a look at later. Both the astrolabe, and this, seemed like they’d be kind of a waste to leave here, abandoned and disregarded. I just hope Uthor won’t notice.

( helped Lym out with getting a wand that caught her eye as well. One higher up on the shelves. It seemed easier to just help her out and ask Lumos to grab it for her, than to leave anymore of mess, or trail behind than we already have, by coming here. Didn’t really dare take it for myself anyways.)

--

Eventually, Lym managed to find Nym’s room behind a secret doorway. She luckily spotted something off about one of the wall’s near Uthors’ quarters. And upon a closer look, there definitely seemed to signs of it being a regularly traversed hidden doorway. Why he didn’t mention that Nym’s room was hidden, is beyond me. But Lym and Omrick managed to brute force their way through opening it somehow. Revealing the hidden staircase behind it.

Took us a bit to climb the damn thing. As with all giant sized staircases we’ve encountered this far. (The one thing, that I definitely do  hate  about giant architecture.) But after the scaling the endless staircase, we arrived at a bedroom.

A pool of steaming and boiling hot water was in middle of room, overlooking a grand view of the sea outside. And the pool itself, was occupied by half a dozen, very young… elementals?. Steam mephitis I think. – Who were hollering at us, to go away, and that we shouldn’t be here. Spouting some very PG insults at us.

To quit them down a bit, I half-jokingly yelled a kid friendly “shut up” back at them. But despite their wariness of us, they were atleast brave enough to attempt to repel us with their steam breaths. It wasn’t lethal by any means, but it still hurt.  

Lym seemed unfazed by it all. Pestering them in return, much to her enjoyment. Testing their so called braveness by approaching them, or going further into the room despite their warnings.

Having an elaborate look around much to their protest. Not that the ever dared to leave the safety of the pool that they hid within.

Omrick didn’t much care for the steam mephitis that harassing and annoying him. And remained by the staircase along with me.

Wisely refraining from provoking them, should his blood boil any further and start throwing actions, instead of the words and dwarven profanities he gave them.

(They did not approve of him actually swearing. Shocked and horrified by some of the words he said in his annoyance, funnily enough.)

They revealed though, that this was in fact Nym’s room. (And I felt a bit guilty that Nym wouldn’t be coming back to look after them anytime soon.)

We looked around the room for a while, hoping to find any clues. Or gain any insight on what had been going on here. But we’re unfortunately unable to find anything. Lym found some of her more valuable belongings and pocketed a few of them.

I was still a bit worried that taking or stealing from Nym’s room would only worsen our position with the storm giants. And still felt guilty about what happened to her. So I didn’t take anything myself.

We could use them money financially, after all the coin we’d given to bribe Vaal. But morally… I still wasn’t really sure.

--

We eventually gave up, after being unable to find anything, and after a final glance out her bedroom window. One portraying the amazing view over the sea, and stone spires outside, we ended up simply leaving her quarters.

--

We looked around a while longer. Exploring the stronghold a bit. Though for what purpose I’m still not sure. We managed to find the mausoleum, the tomb of the storm giants and their ancestors. Located below one of the statues of Strunmaus. But we didn’t really dare or want to disturb any of the graves, fearing the wrath of the storm giants should they find out we even entered this place. And we almost dropped the statue of their patron deity as well, when we tried to put it back and obscure the entrance.

-- I think we also managed to find Mirran’s room somehow as well. The other spires that we saw outside Nym’s bedroom window, likely being other rooms here in the stronghold as well. The others ended up having a look at some of treasure chests, taking some of the valuable fabrics and spices they found withing them. Along with a fairly curious potion. And a disturbing looking tentacle flail.

Again, I was a bit too worried about compromising our position with the giants, after the  failed? Or successful? vote, to take anything for myself. But I did at least try one of the potions Omrick found, to try and determine what it was.

To my surprise, it was potion of longevity though. I guess I lost a few after having a sip to try and determine that? And while writing this now, I… definitely feel… I don’t know, less old? Now that I think about it. A little less rigid, physically. Less tired, or… It’s strange, there is slight feeling of dysmorphia with my sense of self. But I guess a good way? I feel like the people in Waterdeep would pay good gold for this kinda stuff though. Don’t actually know if Lym or Omrick took any of the bottles with them. But if they did, it could definitely be lucrative.

The tentacle rod, was a bit more concerning though. Lym decided to try it out on Omrick for some reason, after which the tentacles suddenly came alive and started attacking him… It definitely seems like a magical weapon of sorts, one I’ve heard rumour of. And Lym definitely seems like she’s gonna keep it, which… cant blame her.

We didn’t do much exploring after that though. Not wanting to push our luck any further, I feel like. Or I at least. We instead headed back to our quarters, discussing on heading back to Waterdeep.

Just in case we stayed the night. In case any of the giants still had business with us. But after letting them know that we were gonna head out, we weren’t approached, by any of them. And as such, simply headed out the following morning.

The Mealstom stronghold had been eerily empty, the past two or so days. The onliest giants we’d actually seen were pretty much only Uthor, and the two hill giants. No storm guards, or any of the delegates anywhere, strangely enough. Perhaps most already left. Or are standing guard by Serissa’s room?

I do hope Serissa will be alright though. Am still a bit worried about the curse and all that.

| 3 / 3 |

Upon making it back to the mansion, we took it easy for a bit. Taking the opportunity to finally relax, after all stress of attending a court with, … honestly a nerve wrecking amount of giants, and giant nobility.

We gave Jarvis our thanks once more, for helping out with preparing the feast for Guh. But after that, we kinda did our own thing. Omrick had gone of do to his own thing at least. And Lym had headed into town, to do some trading and shopping I think.

I decided to take the opportunity to do some more practicing with jewellery crafting. Melting down a few silver pieces to make a ring or 2, and necklace.

Definitely getting better at it, slowly but surely. But still got a long way to go to actually make anything remarkable.

| end of entry |

[winsteadlausten48]

Tips That Will Help Develop Creativity In House

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[falconcoast]

There’s just something about and they were roommates (omg they were roommates) that hits different.

thank you for your ask :)

modern au, cw: alcohol

kaeya -

it was only supposed to be for a little while.

when you had first moved to the city for a job, you were astonished by the soaring prices of apartments.

kaeya, an old friend from high school, was coincidentally looking for an apartment

thus, you decided to live together, for a little while

but a month turned into a few months and a few months turned into a few years together

thus, you got to know a few quirks about living with kaeya

the most notable was his personality

he hadn’t quit his flirtatious behavior. you that maybe he would leave his boyish charm in favor of a more mature persona fitting of a businessman, but it stayed

“hmm… i think we should have dinner together, darling.” “…kaeya, we have dinner together everyday.”

he’s fond of saturday morning jogs around the block and at the gym almost every weekend. why he has to go shirtless every time, you have no clue.

his room can be slightly askew, depending on his mindset. it’s sparsely decorated, with a few plants, lamps, and photos of your friends and his coworkers

kaeya is a good cook. he’s certainly no professional, but he knows how to make a decent dinner for the two of you

…when he wants to, at least. sometimes, when he or you’re too lazy to make something, he has your favorite takeout place on speed dial.

he’s terrible at laundry, but amazing at washing dishes. kaeya also always forgets to water his plants, but always remembers to take out the trash. the two of you compensate for one another.

kaeya’s awfully scared of horror movies. as you’re eating takeout for the night, he’ll be clinging onto you like his life depends on it, attempting to play it off that you’re the one holding him

but perhaps the most endearing thing about him is that kaeya is always up for an adventure

such adventures include:

running around the grocery store, shoving as many sweet treats that definitely weren’t part of meal prep into the cart

impulsively buying tickets for some random entertainment (i.e., skyline helicopter tours, comedy shows way past midnight, etc.)

timing one another to see how fast it takes to get to an agreed location

he gets you out of your comfort zone. he’s wild and free and everything that you wished you had.

so when you find yourself falling for him, you can’t help but feel disheartened.

after all, everything he says is ungenuine—or at least he doesn’t mean it and want a relationship along with it. and he does this kind of thing with everyone one, right?

so when you hear him trying to settle a deal for a new apartment, you’re kind of relieved. after all, if you got into a major argument, you would’ve been left with next to nothing.

when the power goes out across the city on a hot summer night, you decide you you don’t have much to lose.

more utc !

it’s too hot.

the open window compensated for the lack of air conditioning, a swift breeze blowing through the window. you’re lucky that kaeya made dinner right before the power went out.

the wine was lukewarm at that point. the pasta kaeya made was fine. your legs are crossed as you raise your glass to your lips once more.

kaeya is silent, observing you from across the table. you can hear how his foot taps against the hardwood of the dining room of your apartment. his white dress shirt is open in an attempt to stay cool. his elbow is pressed against the table as he pushed around the pasta.

in the dim lighting of the candle, your only source of illuminance in the power outage, you let out a sigh. it intermingles with the sound of honking cars and the classic music playing out of the vinyl.

“so, you’re moving out already?“ you say with apathy, to try in vain to keep yourself composed.

“how did you—…yeah. yeah, i am,” he sputters until he stops like a broken engine.

“we live together. i’m bound to hear some things,” you shrug. “before you ask, no, i’m not mad. we’re both beginning to outgrow this place, seeing as how stable we are in our careers.”

you watch as the candlelight casts a shadow against kaeya’s face. he’s silent for a moment more. “i was planning on tell you today,” he says.

you let out a smile. “i’m sure you meant to make this a dinner date too,” you reply teasingly.

he lets out a soft chuckle at that. for a moment more, utensils scrape against the porcelain plates. you wait for him to say something, anything, to keep yourself sane.

when he does, he says the worst thing possible.

“i’m in love with you,” he says casually. “always have been, always will be.”

you spit your wine out. “sorry, what?” you exclaim, thinking you misheard him over the chimes of taxi cabs and helicopters.

“i’m not kidding,” he replies. “i thought to myself ‘fuck it’. the mood is right and i love you and i might as well since i’m moving out in a few weeks.”

“you’re drunk,” you say as your hands begin to shake with adrenaline. your voice is soft as you look away from him. tears crease your eyes. “kaeya, don’t be like this. what are even doing this for?”

he reaches across the table, past the candle illuminating the room. the move blows out the wick, letting moonlight and skyline lights illuminate you. “i love you,” he repeats.

“and if i said i feel the same?” you question softly, pressing your forehead against his.

“you make me the happiest man in the world,” he reassures, lips so close that they brush your own.

you don’t respond, instead cradling his cheek and kissing him with fervor you’ve never felt before.

rip y/n and kaeya’s apartment lease

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Give her the life I never had; Harry Potter x child reader

*Author’s note*

So this came from my Wattpad requests and this is my first Harry potter (character not fandom) fic that I have written so I hope I didn’t mess this up for any hardcore Potterheads out there.  So this takes place during the Battle at Hogwarts so expect some death and violence involved, other than that not really much anything really. I know it’s been awhile since my last update but I hope to pick up the pace and post up some more stuff and then HOPEFULLY open up requests here since I know you all have been waiting patiently for that.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@ixchel-9275​

@psychosupernatural​

@queen-paladin​

_____________________________________________________________

It was finally over. All of it.  Voldemort was now dead, the Death eaters defeated, and now the Elder wand was destroyed and lost to the sea.  I looked towards the ruins of Hogwarts knowing that the stone and walls can be rebuilt, some of our friends would be able to heal their physical wounds, however some mental wounds won’t.

The Weasleys they’ll always have to live with Fred’s death for the rest of their life and grieve over the fact he’ll never come back, especially George.  I had seen just how close their brotherly bond was, even when they had nothing they had each other, now George was gonna have to make do on his own, if he could.

And Hermione, while she doesn’t want us to know I had a feeling at what she had done to protect her muggle parents, thankfully with her and Ron seeming to repair their growing relationship, I know the Weasley’s will welcomingly be the family she needs now more than ever.

As I walked along the school grounds that’s when I came across (Y/n) getting looked over by one of the healers.  When she looked towards me, she gently smiled and I smiled softly back at her thinking back on how I found her in all this chaos.

The battle was pure hell.  Spells and curses being blasted, bodies dropping like flies, and rubble from the school walls crumbling down as repercussions from the spells firing out.

I had pushed back a Death Eater with an Stupefy spell which sent him flying all the way across the Great Hall.  Another death eater soon came right at me but I quickly disposed of his wand first before giving him the paralyzing spell.

That’s when I heard it.  The sound of a young girl crying.  I quickly ran around the corridor and saw just down the stairs where I once found the Mirror of Erised, a young girl around maybe her 1-2nd year hovering over an older girl who looked almost like her but had longer hair.  The young girl with shorter hair was weeping hysterically as she kept crying.

“Liz? Lizzie. Get up sis. Oh please get up.” From the pale skin and the soulless eyes that Lizzie had, I knew immediately she had been hit with the Killing curse. Cautiously I walked over to her and said.

“Are you alright?” the young girl looked up at me and she sniffled.

“Yes. But my sister she—she won’t wake up yet her eyes are open.” Knowing how I hadn’t learned of the 3 unforgiving curses until my 4th year at Hogwarts, she must’ve not known what exactly happened to her sister.

“What’s your name?”

“(Y/n). (Y/n) (l/n).”

“Well (Y/n), I…….I’m afraid to tell you this but……..your sister’s—she’s dead.”

“What? No but….if she were dead her eyes would be shut, the spell that hit her just made her collapse. Like the paralysis spell.”

“But it wasn’t a blue light that hit her, was it?” she looked back down at her sister and touched her cheek.  “I’m afraid it was the most dangerous of all unforgiving curses. The Killing Curse.” She sniffled and hugged her sister’s corpse and choked out.

“But—she was…..she’s all I have left!” I looked around and two more Death eaters spotted us.

“Get behind me.” I urged (Y/n).  Without question she got behind me and I held out my wand and as they charged toward us I called out, “Stupefy!” which sent one Death eater flying backwards but then I felt a shock to my hand which sent my wand flying towards the second Death eater’s hand.  She sneered at me but then a voice exclaimed.

“Petrificus Totalus!” the female Death eater soon went stiff and fell to the ground.  I turned and saw that it was (Y/n) who had casted the curse.  I ran over and took my wand back from the witch and told her.

“Come on. We can’t stay here.” She took one last look at her sister.  I knew she was hesitant to leave her but if she remained here, she’d be a sitting duck.  “Your sister would want you safe (Y/n).” she turned to me and nodded before taking my hand and we raced out of the hallway.

Together the two of us worked together to fend off the oncoming Death Eaters, but one Death eater used an Inferno spell which burnt (Y/n)’s arm pretty bad.  I shielded her from the next oncoming Inferno attack but the heat of the flames was almost too strong for me to hold back.  That’s when a wave of water came and extinguished the flames and the Death Eater was flown backwards till his back hit a column and he collapsed dead.

We turned and there stood Professor McGonagall.

“Professor.”

“Harry, Ms. (L/n) are you both alright?”

“I am, (Y/n) however got burnt on her arm.” She walked up to us and she examined (Y/n)’s arm. She let out a painful hiss and the Professor said.

“I’ll take care of her from here Potter.”

“Thank you Professor.” Just as I was about to leave, I felt a hand grab the sleeve of my shirt and I saw that it was (Y/n).

“Thank you, Harry Potter.” I smiled down at her and nodded to her.  She released my sleeve and I ran off to finally end this once and for all.

I walked over to her just as the healer cleared her off and moved onto the next student that needed medical treatment.  I sat down beside her and asked her.

“How are you doing (Y/n)?”

“Shaky but—alive.” She softly scoffed.  “But at what cost? My sister’s dead. She was the only family I had left. Now the ministry will probably put me in the Magic for Orphans facility, and with me almost being a teenager, no one will want me.”

I was probably the only one who knew what she must be going through.  Even though we were orphaned in different circumstances, we still lost our loved ones to Voldemort.  Now I must be crazy because I had no clear idea of what to do next but what I did know was that I couldn’t leave (Y/n) alone anymore.

“What if—” I started off by saying.  “What if you…had someone to look after you?”

“But, but Harry I—I have no other living relatives. It’s always just been me and my sister since our parents died three years ago at the Quidditch world cup.”

“I know, but what if there was someone who wanted to help you out. Give you a home so that you wouldn’t have to suffer any potential abuse or neglect.”

“And just who would that person be?” I sighed softly before telling her.

“You’re looking at him.” Her eyes softly widened before she let out a soft gasp.

“But-but why? I mean no offense Harry but…..why would you want to help me out?”

“Let’s just say, from one orphan to another I know how lonely it can be. I had no clue about the magic world till I was just your age, and though I may not know how the Ministry of Magic deals with orphaned wizards, I do know a thing or two about living in terrible conditions. I lived practically my whole childhood in a tiny hall closet in my aunt and uncle’s place. And I wouldn’t want you to potentially go through that type of abuse in a stranger’s home.”

(Y/n) was silent for a moment, taking in what I just said.  Weighing out her options before thinking about what answer she would give me.

“If not I’ll understand, I’ll check in whenever I can. But just know you won’t go through the rest of your life alone.” She looked up at me.  Her eyes that were once filled with tears, but now filled with courage and strength as she said.

“If it won’t be too much trouble with you, I’ll go with you.” I softly smiled at her and told her taking notice of her robes.

“Spoken like a true Gryffindor.”

After that, the Weasley family, Hermione, myself and (Y/n) returned to the Weasley’s old home the Burrow and decided to rebuild it, a symbol as a fresh start to all our lives after this whole war.

We also had a memorial service for both Fred and (Y/n)’s older sister, each of us speaking for both Fred and (Y/n)’s sister before finally burying them and summoning a beautiful garden around them of their favorite flowers and plants.

As the sun was starting to set I saw (Y/n) still standing over her sister’s grave.  I walked out to her and said.

“Mrs. Weasley’s prepared supper for all of us. She says you best come in before it’s all gone.” (Y/n) remained silent.  I softly sighed and without another word I just stood there beside her.  She may not want to talk, but she should at least know that someone was there when she was ready.

“I—never thought I’d have to face this world without her. Even through our fights, especially after mom and dad died, she was always there for me. She especially liked to tease me about my crush on Joey Matarazzo, saying we’d get married one day and have kids of our own. Now she won’t ever see me grow up, or achieve any dreams I’ll have for the future.”

“Let me tell you something my Godfather once told me. He told me that the ones that love us never really leave us. And we can always find them, in here.” I pointed to her heart.

She looked up at me and finally for the first time I saw a true, genuine smile.  She came closer to me and wrapped an arm around my waist and rested her head against my ribs.  I wrapped an arm around her and we stood there for a few more minutes before walking back inside the Burrow to join the Weasley’s for dinner.

*FF 19 years later.*

It was like any other year, but this time it was my second son’s first time doing this.  I could already see from the look on his face that he looked anxious about his first year going as we came up to platform 9¾.

“Together.” I assured him as we took hold of his cart and we both ran straight through the brick wall and found ourselves right by the Hogwarts Express.  As we walked closer to the train, we soon found Ron and Hermione with their kids, I spotted Draco and his wife and son bidding their goodbyes.  He and I looked at each other, neither of us speaking a word but he gave me a point nod, and I nodded back to him.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to write my own brothers up for detention already.” A female voice soon spoke up and coming right towards us was (Y/n), all grown up and in her Professor robes.

Since the battle she continued on her Hogwarts education and excelled in both Magical creature knowledge and potions making.  By the time she was in her 4th year at Hogwarts, Ginny and I had agreed to legally adopt her as our own child and she was beyond thrilled at the news.  After graduating, she worked with me at the Ministry of Magic to focus on potion brewery before enrolling to be the next Potions Professor and this would be her second year teaching that class.

I’m told she’s kind but firm when it comes to students goofing off in that class, but she is always there to make sure no student messes up a potion and causes injuries either to themselves or others.

“Not in the slight.” I assured her.

“Good. I would hate to have to write them up to Headmaster McGonagall.” She told me.  She looked down at her brothers and asked them, “So boys, you ready?”

“Oh yeah!” exclaimed James while Albus was more reserved and didn’t really say anything. Instead he walked away and sat down with his arms hugging his legs close to him.  (Y/n) and I looked at each other and I told her to get James onto the train as well as herself while I talked to James.  She nodded and guided James as well as his things over to the train while I walked over to Albus and knelt down beside him.

“Dad,” he spoke. “What if I am put in Slytherin?”

“Albus Severus Potter. You were named after two Headmasters of Hogwarts. And one of them was a Slytherin. And he was the bravest man I had ever known. But if it means to you, you can choose Gryffindor. The sorting hat does take that into consideration.”

“Really?” I nodded. “But how would you feel? If I was sorted into Slytherin?”

“Then Slytherin will have gained the best wizard they could ask for.” He smiled and embraced me and I hugged him back.  “Now come on, off you go.” We then walked towards the train and Albus got himself situated inside with his brother and Ron and Hermione’s kids, and riding alongside them to keep an eye on them to Hogwarts was (Y/n).

As I stood by my friends and we watched the train leave the station, waving goodbye to our kids I couldn’t help but feel like we had done it.  The war ended almost 2 decades ago and now our children can learn magic in a better world, a world without Death Eaters, a world without darkness and death, a world without a Dark Lord.

A peaceful time in our world.

[widow-maximov]

You just need to feel it

Pairing: Natasha x Fem Reader

Warning: Language, fluff, angst

Summary: Being hidden away from the Avengers definitely brings curiosity when you are accidently discovered by one of them.

Word count: 5.6k

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

Being one of the most rich people in the world daughter, definitely has its own benefits along with flaws, one of them being that when people heard your surname they instantly think you are the most spoiled kid on earth, when in reality you practically don't even know your parents.

People think you overexaggerate, like how can you not know your parents? But it's the truth, at a young age you have been practically given up to Tony Stark, he is intelligent and has his weakness when it comes to sponsoring his businesses to which your parents agreed to with one condition.

That Tony takes you as they never had time in the world to babysit you, so Tony became the father figure you always lacked. He taught you many things along with his passion of building, with each lesson you become better which is why you are currently working for Tony.

You practically have the same knowledge as him so when he is busy or needs another person's perspective he asks you to help and you do it with gratefulness.

When your parents noticed that you are starting to become a potential, they asked Tony to keep you discreet but would regularly check up on you, not that they would even try to interact with you but you didn't really care.

You were fine with Tony being the only father figure, soon when Pepper came into Tony's life, she was like the mother you always dreamed off, she always supported you and loved spending time with you when Tony was busy with his meetings.

Since you were stuck in the same place at all the times, you wanted to explore but you were forbidden from doing so, you knew no one could find out about you or Tony could get into big trouble with your parents.

You heard of the Avengers and their work, but you and Tony were behind the inventions so they could succeed against enemies three times their size.

It would've been one of those days where Tony would disappear from the team and spend some of his time with you, catching up or helping you with studying.

You was sat at your desk, the room was connected to the lab where you and Tony would come up with creations, the lab had a window that was tinted so only the person inside could see outside of it which was useful, as you could watch people walk past and no one would know you are even there.

The room of course was filled with things that could never bore you but it did bore you. You couldn't leave anywhere because if there was a picture leaked, your parents would be furious, so you were basically locked like Rapunzel but you couldn't escape.

"How are you, kid?" Tony asked as he walked inside the room, taking a double look in the hall to make sure no one saw him.

You nodded as you looked at him "Like any person who is locked inside a room their whole life"

He laughed a little as he made his way towards you "I'm sure it is very entertaining"

"Yeah, I'm so entertained as you can see" You pointed towards your books.

He sat on the desk as he leaned over to see what you were studying "Biology? What's so fascinating about that?"

You rolled your eyes, you would think someone like Tony would be somewhat interested in facts about science "It's interesting, like the human body has 12 systems. Don't tell me this isn't impressive?"

He smiled at you "You need another hobby, kiddo"

You playfully rolled your eyes "And you need to let me explore this building"

His smile fell a little, he knew that this is inhumane to keep you in a room locked and no one could find out about you "Under different circumstances, that would be possible"

You stood up from the chair as you kept your gaze on him "I know, it's okay though, as long as you keep hanging around I'm sure I will be fine"

He nodded slightly with a sad smile "If it only was up to me, you would be able to just walk freely"

"I don't understand, why don't they just let you adopt me, they barely even talk to me, you have been more of a parent to me than they ever were"

He looked at you, he always cared about you, even if you weren't his daughter by blood, he always considered you as one along with Pepper "I wonder that as well.."

The silence started to settle but he cleared his throat, throwing one of his famous smiles and pulling you into him with his hand over your shoulder as he walked towards the lab "I started to come up with this prototype and then I noticed something and I wanted to ask you about it"

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

The time with him went by so quickly, he didn't even notice that he was gone for so long, he gave you a hug which was something that was so foreign to you until he took you, you still wasn't used to it especially since you barely received them but you grew fond of them.

The team started to get suspicious of Tony's disappearances, at first they thought he was sneaking off to see Pepper but that went out of the window when she walked into the Avengers tower and asked about him, indicating that she had no clue where he was.

They wanted to find out what he has been doing all that time, they checked every room they could possibly think off, but it came back short. They even asked Friday but that programmed thing always gave the same answer 'It's confidential' which only just fuelled the team.

Correction; Most of the team, by most that was Sam, Bucky, Thor and Natasha and the rest didn't really care until the four never came up with any explanation to why Tony had to disappear.

Steve only took interest when Sam really insisted and came up with some theory that Tony has a second woman on the side with a whole family, obviously there was no evidence to support that.

"I still think Wanda should look into his head" Thor came back with some sort of drink in his hand as he reclaimed his seat.

There was a slight laugh "There is no way I'm doing that, I respect that man too much, you guys are on your own"

All of them looked towards Wanda who heard Thor and they just sighed knowing that she won't do it, no matter how much they would beg.

"Natasha is a spy, can't she like follow Tony one day and just see where he always wonders off to?" Wanda asked as she sat down next to Steve who was scribbling something down on his notepad.

Sam and Bucky looked at each other with a slight smirk as they both looked at Natasha, who already knew that there would be no way out of this "Natashaaaaa..." Sam dragged her name out in an attempt to get to her " The witch is right, just follow him, you are like a super sneaky spy."

Natasha rolled her eyes as Thor spoke up again after taking a sip of his drink "That could save us a lot of time"

Natasha looked at Wanda who had a small smirk across her lips "You welcome" The witch mouthed which caused a glare to be thrown her way from the Russian.

She eventually agreed, especially when they would follow her everywhere, annoying her until she would crack. The famous black widow for once didn't threaten her team mates since she was as curious as them.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

She has been following Tony all day, sneaking around, hanging from the ceiling and just watching his every move, she was close to giving up but that's when she noticed a door appear from the wall, from the outside it looked like any wall but that's where you would be with Tony all the time.

Tony looked around and walked inside and then the door disappeared. Natasha, feeling of satisfaction washed over her, had a smirk across her lips, finally that's where he has been hiding all this time.

She expected, some embarrassing place where Tony stored away his secrets that she could tease him about, so when he walked out again couple minutes after, she took the opportunity and snuck inside the room.

She was slightly disappointed when she just found a lab but her eyes caught a movement from the opened door, across from where she was, she quietly made her way there as she looked around. It was just a bedroom with a lot of fun stuff.

She observed you as you was sat on your bed with a book in hand so she decided to speak up "Now who can you be, gorgeous?"

Natasha never failed to notice how attractive you were, the way your hair would be pushed behind the both of your ears, in her eyes you looked young but old enough.

You jumped up from the unfamiliar voice, eyes fixated at the redhead in front, you knew this was bad, she shouldn't be here and now that she has seen you, this will only be a big problem.

Just like you jinxed Tony walked in and his eyes widen at the sight of the redhead "Romanoff what the hell are you doing here?"

She eagerly span on her hill as she faced him with a smirk "So that's where you have been hiding out"

"How did you even get in?" He narrowed his eyes as he looked at you, you looked clueless as well.

"The door closes too slow, I just walked in. But who is that?" Natasha simply explained but her attention changed towards you with a smile.

He stood in front of her as he covered you "That's not your business, you shouldn't even be here-"

Natasha walked around, making her way towards you as she extended her hand towards you "I'm Natasha but you can call me Nat, sweetheart"

Her attempt at flirting with you only irritated Tony "Romanoff, I swear if you don't take a step back from her, you'll regret it" He tried to stick to his threat but Natasha knew him too well.

You looked at Tony "Dad, does that mean am I in trouble?"

Natasha's eyes widen as she repeated what you said "Dad?!"

Tony rolled his eyes and looked at you with a small smile "Of course not" His eyes darted back to Natasha "But she will be"

You would be lying if you didn't think that some of the Avengers were pretty good looking, you never was in a relationship for obvious reasons but there would be times you would imagine yourself in one, not that you knew much about them but the films and books seem to give you some sort of an idea.

Natasha mumbled as her eyes narrowed "Maybe Sam was right about you having a secret family"

"Secret family? Have you guys been creating some sort of theories about me? What the hell are you guys doing?" He sounded more than irritated.

"Does Pepper know about you having a secret daughter?" She asked with her arms crossed.

Natasha might have been viewed at scary and unlovable for not more than her body but that doesn't mean she didn't have her own view on some subjects, she just never voiced them.

"She knows-" He paused as he huffed from irritation "I don't have to explain myself to you"

You watched as your eyes darted from one to another as they spoke so you decided to interrupt them "I'm trying to read..."

Natasha's gaze fell on you, she had a small smirk playing across her lips "You know that bed looks more than comfortable-"

"Out!" Tony shouted over Natasha as he pointed towards the exit, she finally given in and with a smirk she walked out and Tony followed but not before he sent you an apologetic look.

They both made it to a private room, out of hearing from anyone. Tony leaned on the door as Natasha stood not far from him, he sighed with a defeated look "Can you keep this to yourself? I will pay you or something"

The redhead with a hint of genuine emotion "You don't have to pay me, I will keep this to myself you don't have to worry but"

He dread that 'but', he knew there was a catch, Natasha continued "Who is that?"

He pushed himself off the door and sat on the table as he looked at Natasha "It's not my place to say, but her parents decided to give her to me and here she is, no one can know so just make up a lie or something"

He seems upset in a way and just like that walked out of the room and went back to you, Natasha's eyes followed him as she felt a little guilty for invading his privacy.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

Everyone from the team apart from Tony were waiting for Natasha to return with some hopeful news. She wasn't expecting literally everyone to be tuned in.

She was taken back as she made it into the living room, they were waiting with excitement written all over their faces "So?" one of them spoke up.

The redhead crossed her arms as she raised her eyebrows perfectly "You guys just sat here and waited for me to come back?"

They shrugged and just said 'yes' which just made Natasha shake her head at their nosiness "Well I found nothing, he was busy with his meetings all day." She paused as they all groaned "Maybe there literally is nothing"

Wanda tilted her head at Natasha, she knew she had an advantage over the team, especially if they tried to lie, so when Natasha excused herself the witch took the opportunity to follow her.

"Wait up, Natasha" Wanda spoke from behind her as she caught up to her.

She turned to face Wanda as she raised her brows at her "What's up?"

Wanda looked around and with a swift motion, pushed them both into a room that wasn't familiar, from the sudden move it caused Natasha to slightly gasp from shock as this wasn't what she expected.

"What the hell Wanda!"

Wanda looked with an innocent smile "Sorry, I just wanted to be out of range of everyone"

"Why?" Natasha simply asked, not sure to why Wanda suddenly wants to talk.

"What did you find out?" The witch didn't beat around the bush, she came out with it straight away.

"I'm not sure what you are referring to?" The Russian tried to play dumb.

Wanda rolled her eyes "You might be able to fool them but remember I can still read your mind"

Natasha sighed as she crossed her arms and leaned on a little table that was behind her "Not much, there is hidden room where he keeps some girl who claims to be his daughter, the thing is that is definitely not his daughter. You can't say anything, he asked me not to and I'm only telling you because I don't want you to go inside my head"

Wanda liked the fact that she was somewhat feared by the Widow, she powerful but she would never try to hurt her team mates; scrap that, her family so she just nodded.

"We have a new addition!" Wanda clapped her in excitement "If you need help or anything, I'm here"

Natasha smiled at the witch and nodded and thanked the witch, they both went back to what they were doing; Natasha coming up with a way to find out more about you and Wanda went back to pity the boys.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

It was one of those days for the team, where there would be no missions as Stark had a lot of business stuff to take care off with his company. He needed someone to keep an eye out for you, he would've asked Pepper but she was busy for that day so the only person that popped in his head was Natasha.

He walked into the area where everyone had their own get together to just relax after a chaotic week, he spotted the redhead sipping on beer "Looks like everyone is getting comfortable today"

They looked at Tony who was in a suit rather than something more comfortable "Shame you can't spend it with us" Steve spoke first, he was the only one who wasn't exactly drunk but he wasn't sober either.

Tony shook his head as he smiled "Well, nothing I can do unfortunately. Which reminds me, Romanoff I have a mission for you actually"

The team groaned at his words, Natasha was really liked as she would be able to drink so much and not get drunk, she would barely even reach the drunk state, so having her attend a mission made the team a little moody.

She nodded as she finished off her beer and stood up to follow Tony, she remembered not having any missions, she always double checks so she is never behind anything.

"What mission?" Those were the only words that left the Russian.

Tony sighed, knowing that this is the only way out "I need you to keep an eye out on that room"

The redhead crossed her arms as she listened to him "What do you want me do?"

He handed her a card "I want you to be causation, in case something happens and I'm not here. Do not go in there and disturb her, she has some stuff to do"

Natasha nodded as she looked down at the card "This is to open the door?"

He nodded and smiled at Natasha as he reached for her shoulder and squeezed it "Good luck"

Natasha watched Tony disappear and sighed, she never was the one to break rules but she really wanted to hang out with you, there was something about you that pulled her in and there wasn't a waking second that she wouldn't want to spend with you.

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

The Russian did as she was told, she kept an eye out for the room and observed it in a distance to make sure that everything was okay, it was quite boring, but she had her phone to occupy her time, she received some messages from Steve and Sam, showing her what she was 'missing'.

She was going to reply until she heard footsteps, she peaked and saw you with a hood up, waiting for the elevator to come, she smirked as she leaned on the door frame "Where do you think you're going, gorgeous?"

You didn't jump this time, you looked over at her and rolled your eyes as you whispered "Are you stalking me or something?"

The Russian crossed her arms, she knew what to do "Wouldn't you like to know!"

You raised your brows at her shouting, it would attract attention of people close by, meaning you would be spotted, so you marched your way towards her as you walked inside where she was camping out to hide.

"Can't you be quiet?" The way you spoke to her as if you knew her would straight away be a death wish for you but somehow you wasn't scared of her.

She looked out to see if anyone was coming and closed the door behind, trapping you inside with her "I could've been if you were nicer"

You sighed defeatedly as you looked down "Right, I'm sorry.." by the time you were done speaking, you looked up at her as she was analysing you.

"Where were you going to go?" She asked with no hesitation in her tone, she was a little different to the people you met, she wanted to find out why you did what you did rather than punish you straight away.

"I wanted to just leave that room, I never have the chance to do that and I thought today was my chance but" You paused as you eyed her "Clearly not"

The redhead felt hot as you eyed her but she hid it well "Okay, come with me"

You raised your brows at her but smiled as you put your hood up and you followed her like a puppy, you didn't know the place and if the worlds most deadly assassin was going to take you around, you knew it would be best to stick with her.

The two of you made it to the roof top, you never went anywhere your whole life, always stuck in that room or met your parents in some plain white meeting room to discuss what would be best for you.

As you stood near the door, you looked around to see the city and how beautiful it was, it was the first time you saw anything that pretty, usually you would only stare at one view from your room and that eventually got boring.

The Russian chuckled at you and made her way towards the edge of the building, placing herself on the floor, you did join her but sat a little further away from the edge.

You looked down and saw multiple cars go by but from far they looked like toys, the way you observed everything melted Natasha's heart, she never witnessed anyone being so happy whilst looking down a huge tall building.

Natasha shook her head a little with a small smile which caught your attention "What you smiling at?"

She looked at you with the same smile "I never seen someone be so happy whilst looking down to potential death" She teased a little.

You looked away from her and bluntly responded "If you were locked inside a room for your whole life, things like this would amuse you as well"

There was a pause in between, the Russian tried to come up with something to say without wanting to invade your privacy "How did you not go insane?"

You laid down on your back as you stared at the stars above "Hope"

You replied with one word which only interested Natasha even more "Hope for what?"

"For this.." You pointed up at the sky and she understood. You hoped one day you'll be able to just walk around.

She took a deep breath as she laid next to you and looked at your side profile "Why are you not allowed to leave that room?"

You looked at her, meeting her eyes trying to embed into your memory the way her eyes looked at you "Because that's my life"

"Surely Tony wouldn't be this cruel to not let you leave his side" She spoke trying to crack you a little bit more.

You chuckled "No, Tony is the best father figure you could ask for. It's just that my parents have a tight hold over him and if I mess that up, they will literally lock in inside a prison or something"

Natasha's eyes never left your face, it was like she was in some trance "So Tony isn't your biological dad?" The redhead asked, she knew that he wasn't but she wanted to know more from you.

You shook your head from side to side "I wish, he has been more of a parent to me than my own ever were"

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to" Natasha stated softly, making sure you didn't think she was forcing you.

You gave her a smile "I know, but you seem like you want to know unlike everyone else"

She frown at your answer "What do you mean? People don't listen to you?"

You shook your head "Nope, no one cares either"

"I do" It was the most quietest 'I do' you ever heard.

"You are the only one"

She was quiet as she was processing your words, so you continued "My parent's never actually cared about me, but I don't really care, what I care is that they locked me and don't allow me to do whatever I want"

"You talk about your parents as if they are really powerful, who are they?" She asked curiously, not to be nosy but to know more about you.

You looked away, scared about the judgement from her "My name is Y/n Y/l/n"

She looked at you with disbelief "So you're the spoiled kid of the Y/l/n family?" She asked with a surprised tone.

You knew this would happen, the news never shut up about you and your weird disappearance so you nodded and she sat up from the disbelief "That's bullshit, you don't seem to be spoiled"

You raised your eyebrows at her "Am I not? Have you not seen my room?"

She rolled her eyes "Well do you expect to be locked in a room with just a bed and couple books? I think that's a reasonable room for someone who has been forced to stay in it"

You sat up as you listen to her defend you as if she knew you, so you simply smiled "Thank you"

She looked at you as her emotions were quick to cool down "For what?"

"For taking me here and listening to me, I never had friends before, to be fair I never met anyone near my age" You nervously played with your fingers as you admitted it to her.

She smiled as she stood up and extended her hand towards you so she can help you stand up "Well we aren't done.. that's if you still want to hang with me"

You took her hand as she pulled you up "Please, anything to not spend another minute in that room"

She smiled as the both of you slowly started to walk towards the exit of the roof "If you want, there is a small get together with the Avengers, we can tag along with them"

You looked at her side profile this time, if you didn't have to reply to her, you would most likely be speechless by her beauty "Do you think they will know who I am?"

She waved her hand dismissively "Don't worry, I will put them back in their place if they say anything rude"

⸻⸻⋙☸⋘⸻⸻

And that's how it started, you both attended the get together, you met wonderful people and for the first time in your life you tried alcohol. The team was more than happy to have you in their circle and shortly they learnt who you were, it wasn't possible to hide anything from them plus you were on the news practically all the time but they never judged you but more opposite, they loved you.

Thor even called you Lady Y/n and you really liked it, they treated you like any other person and you could've been more grateful for that, Natasha walked you to your room and stayed until you fell asleep, she stayed to ensure that you would actually fall asleep but also to watch as you slowly relaxed every muscle in your body.

From that moment, she only started to fall for you even more, the more you opened up the more she was in awe at how brave you had become but it was the moment when you stood up to your parents in front of her that she realised she really likes you.

It was one of those days where she sneaked inside your room and you loved it, the two of you would spend time watching movies that she loved and movies that you loved, or watch movies the both of you hated and just made comments on it.

You gotten comfortable around Natasha and she respected you like you respected her, you wasn't sure whether what you felt was friendly or romantic, your heart would always skip a beat when her arm would brush against yours or when she laughed so hard at something you said and she gripped your arm or hand it just made you miss her touch after.

"I don't understand why they even go towards that stupid sound, I would turn around and just walk off" You commented as you were irritated at the scene on the TV.

The Russian chuckled slightly "That's because you are a wuss, of course you would run away"

You rolled your eyes at her as you looked over "Please, as if you wouldn't. Just because you are THE Black Widow, it doesn't make you less of a human"

She looked over at you curiously "So you're saying everyone would be scared?"

You nodded confidently "Oh for sure, if someone just barged inside here, you would jump for sure"

And that's what happened, someone DID barge in but it was someone you didn't expect, the way you gripped onto Natasha's body as if she would somehow make it disappear and the way Natasha held onto you as if she could make that disappear was more adorable.

"Y/n Y/l/n! What do you think you're doing!" The voice spoke that was familiar yet at the time not really.

You felt a blush across your cheeks as you realised you were still holding into Natasha, you let her go and looked at her, she had a slight blush as well but she quickly looked away from you to mask the blush.

You stood up from your bed and walked over to where the voice was, it was your mother, she stood there with her arms crossed and that's when Natasha came out from behind you, she crossed her arms as she narrowed her eyes at the woman.

Your mother held the phone out as it displayed your newly social media "I don't see what's wrong Mother"

She huffed "You are unimageable disrespectful!"

Natasha raised her eyebrows at her, she understood what you meant now but you continued "No, I'm being respectful, it's you who barged into this room throwing a fit over a picture"

"You are doing this on purpose, you are trying to ruin our imagine! You must delete that now, this is unacceptable" She looked at the phone and at the picture, it was you with the team, the next picture was with Natasha as she leaned on your shoulder and made a cute little kissy pose.

You shook your head "No" it was all you said which caught Natasha off guard but she felt proud, so there was a smug smile across her lips as she observed the woman in front of her.

"Unbelievable" She paused as the redhead finally caught her eye so she pointed towards her "You are the one who corrupted my daughter"

Natasha's smile was gone as those words left her mouth so she decided to speak up "If she was your daughter you would treat her better"

You looked over at Natasha, the way her gaze was on your mother so firmly, make your stomach do flips "She never corrupted me, she was always here for me" She looked down at you with a smile that met her eyes, you looked at your mother "Unlike you or Father"

Her mouth dropped opened at your words, she never expected you to ever talk to her like that, so you continued "I'm old enough to decide for myself, so I'm no longer your daughter but Tony's, he adopted me and I will happily call him my dad and Pepper my mom, they deserve those names so if you don't like it, leave the same way you came in"

She was boiling inside as Natasha chuckled at her expression, she huffed and walked out not saying anything back, you let out a breath that you didn't even know you was holding and turned to face Natasha, a squeak came out of your mouth as you jumped into Natasha's arms.

She held you so tightly but you quickly pulled away realising what you did, you were still in her arms but just facing her "Oh god! This is bad, she will take revenge"

Natasha's voice always seemed to calm you "Hey, hey. She won't do that, Tony won't let that happen and frankly I won't either"

You always seem to be oblivious to Natasha's feelings towards you, she wasn't very open with them which is what caused your obliviousness. The both of you were scared of rejection but something with the way Natasha comforted you and held you tight against her, making you look down at her lips.

She caught on and with every courage that was left in her body, she leaned closer, before her lips reached yours you looked into her eyes "Thank you Talia"

She smiled as she kissed you, she finally did what she always wanted to do, she felt as if there was fireworks going off, the way butterflies would grow just at the touch of your lips, she loved it and she was intoxicated.

You were the first to pull away, resting your forehead against hers "I like it when you call me that"

A grin broke out on your face "Talia, Talia, Talia-"

She kissed you again, this time with hunger as she backed you into a wall, you tangled your hands into her hair as you matched her pace in the kiss.

Even if it wasn't long since you knew each other, the want and the need was stronger than self control for Natasha, especially when you did things like this.

"You really don't want to walk tomorrow" The way her voice was low and her eyes would fill with lust just at you teasing.

"I'm not sure I understand what that means"

Natasha smirked as her lips made their way towards your ear "You don't have to.."

"You just need to feel it" her lips latched onto your skin within seconds, causing a moan to escape your lips.

[kinglazrus]

Deep Wounds Ch. 1 - Who's to Blame?

Phic Phight | Next | AO3 | FFN

Submitted by @q-gorgeous: Identity reveal. Dash finds out Danny is Phantom. Could be swagger bishie or not, either or is okay.

Submitted by @aj-itated: Dash catches Danny changing after gym, and spots a huge (poorly stitched) wound on his side. Dash is now convinced Danny is either abused or part of a gang, and has no idea how to deal with either - or how to interact with Danny, now that he can't bully him.

Summary: Dash didn't mean to see it, not that it was his fault. If Danny didn't want anyone to notice the bloody mess on his side, then he shouldn't be checking his bandages in the middle of the boy's changing room. But it's too late, and Dash has no clue what to do now that he thinks Danny might be getting hurt at home.

Word count: 4253

“He’s gonna know.”

As Tucker's shadow falls over him, Danny starts, rudely yanked out of his daydream. The hand cradling his chin drops to his lap, fingers brushing the grass, and he fixes Tucker with a confused glare. "What?"

"You are super unsubtle," Tucker says. "He's gonna knooow."

Tucker and singsong aren’t two words Danny would normally use together, but it is the best way to describe the lyrical bounce in Tucker's voice as he drops onto the grass. Too bad his musical prowess seems limited to teasing jabs and not the screeching caterwaul Danny usually associates with Tucker and singing.

"What are you talking about?" Danny asks, his annoyance mounting.

"Oh, come on." Tucker leans back and sweeps his arm out to the field, motioning to the warm-up game some of their classmates are playing, which Danny had been watching fervently until he was interrupted. His gaze skims over the scuffle taking place over the ball, settles briefly on Dash lounging in front one of the nets, then goes back to Tucker.

"I don't know what you mean," Danny says.

"Tucker, be nice. Don't tease the oblivious," Sam cuts in. Sitting on Danny's left, she is flipping through a book rather than watches the scrimmage. How she got the book past Tetslaff, Danny has no idea. Magic, maybe. The more likely answer is that Tetsflaff saw it and just didn't care since Sam one of the best students in their class.

Danny could never get away with it, though. "Seriously. What are you guys talking about?"

"Oh, poor Danny." Tucker tsks and shakes his head. "In time, you, too, shall mature enough to understand your own emotions."

"I'm mature enough to ectoblast you in the face," Danny says.

"That is literally the exact opposite of mature."

"You're the exact opposite of mature."

"Game time!" Tetslaff's bellow cuts off what surely would have been a clever retort from Tucker. Her booming voice, powerful enough to challenge Danny's father's, echoes across the field and brings the scrimmage to a halt. At the far net, Dash rises to his feet and brushes the grass from his shorts.

"Captains!" Tetslaff calls. Valerie and Dash's hands shoot into the air, faster than anyone else's. Sam, still focused on her book, raises her hand half-heartedly, then lowers it to turn the page. No one else offers to be team captain, but Tetslaff doesn't seem to mind. This is how their classes usually go when they do team sports. "You know the drill. Pick your players, take your positions, and for heaven's sake, someone take Fenton."

Snickers break out through the class. Danny drops his face into his hands, muffling a groan against his palms.

He hates gym class for a lot of reasons. For one, sports aren't really his thing. He might be strong, thanks to his ghost half, but that doesn't make him any better at sports. Because of that, he's usually the last picked when it comes to games like soccer. And then there's Dash, who sucks sometimes, but he used to suck more. A lot more. He has mellowed out since freshman year, although he's not opposed to jostling Danny in the hallway now and then.

But the absolute worst thing about gym class is playing when he's injured; it doesn't happen often. Danny's been ghost fighting for nearly three years now, and he doesn't get hurt as much as he used to. Experience has wizened him up to the wonders of dodging. His enemies still get lucky sometimes, though, and last night, Technus got him good. Hacking and slashing isn't usually Technus' thing, but the rabid dishwasher the ghost sicked on Danny was damn good at it. He has the deep slash across his left side to show it.

It's healing well, but a wound like that needs more than a few hours before he is back in peak condition. Sam, whose house was closest after the fight, stitched Danny up as best as she could. Both she and Tucker had gotten good at that over the years, but for all Sam's skill, she was still just a high schooler who learned off YouTube tutorials. Before bed, Danny bound the wound tight, took a couple of Advil, and slept with an icepack slapped against his side.

It still hurts like hell, though.

A sharp whistle pierces Danny's thoughts. He winces at the noise, along with most of the class. Dash and Valerie, the victims of Tetslaff's ire, actually flinch.

"Baxter, Grey, stop bickering," Tetslaff says.

Caught up in his thoughts, Danny hadn't noticed their argument, but it's impossible to miss the tight anger in Valerie's crossed arms or the annoyance in Dash's glare.

"Baxter, Grey made her pick. Mr. Cheong goes with her." Tetslaff points at Kwan, then jerks her thumb toward Valerie. With a despondent sigh, Dash pats Kwan on the back, watching his best friend trudge to Valerie's team as if he was going to his grave.

"They're so dramatic," Danny says.

Tucker nods in agreement. "I know, right?"

Sam lowers her book to stare at them. "You cannot be serious."

"What did we say?" Danny asks.

Sam sighs and rolls her eyes but doesn't elaborate further.

Back on the field, Valerie gestures to the dwindling number of classmates yet to be claimed. "Your next pick," she says to Dash.

Dash scans the lineup, his gaze lingering on Danny for a few moments before skipping right over Tucker to Sam. "Manson, you're with me."

"Ugh, of course." Sam marks her page and passes the book to Danny. "You gonna be okay? How's your side?"

He holds back a grimace. "I'm good. I'll tell Tetslaff I'm sick or something so I can sit out."

Sam nods, satisfied, and joins Dash's team.

"Tucker!" Valerie calls.

"Good luck, dude." Tucker gently pats Danny's shoulder before stepping onto the field.

With his friends gone, and the rest of the class distracted by the team pick, Danny shuffles over to Tetslaff. "I don't really feel good. Can I sit out?"

Tetslaff looks him up and down. "You gonna throw up?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"You got a fever?" Before Danny can even answer, Tetslaff slaps her hand against his forehead. He flinches back, wanting nothing more than to peel her warm palm off his skin. She holds it there for a few seconds before finally drawing away. "No fever. got a doctor's note?"

"Uh... no? I've been at school all morning."

"If you feel like you're about to throw up, book it off the field. Otherwise, you're playing."

"But—"

"Fenton, do you really want to be the only kid in Casper High history to fail gym class?" Tetslaff asks.

The threat might have been more effective if Danny hadn't spent half his high school career one bad grade away from flunking out, but he doesn't have the energy to fight her on it. "Okay, Coach."

"That's the spirit! Now get out there and show me some hustle!" Tetslaff slaps Danny on the back. He bites back a cry of pain as he stumbles forward, one hand shooting to cradle his side. Tetslaff's hand, though broad, missed the actual injury, but the sheer impact made his bones rattle and his wound flair with pain.

"Okay," Danny mutters. Just stay out of Dash's way and move enough to escape Tetslaff ire. It can't be that hard. He presses a hand to his side, feeling the thick gauze through his shirt. Closing eyes so that no one sees them glow, he phases his palm through his shirt and ices over his injury. The numbing cold helps, somewhat, and it should hold up for the whole class.

"I can do this." He falters when he steps toward the field. It looks like Valerie and Dash finished picking their teams while he was busy with Tetslaff and the game is already underway. He hovers on the sideline, unsure where to go.

"Getting worked up already?" Valerie's voice startles him.

Danny flinches and twists toward her, sending a sharp twinge across his ribs. He hisses, regretting the sudden move, and squeezes his side once more.

"You okay?" Valerie asks.

"Just fine. Sorry, what did you say?"

"You look like you're stressed out already. It's just soccer."

Danny rolls his eyes and nudges her arm. "Sure. Tell me that when Dash's team is up by five and I have stop you from kicking his kneecaps in."

Valerie laughs, no denial falling from her lips. "Oh, please. We both know I'd go for the throat. You're with me, by the way."

"Oh, thank God."

"Don't kid yourself, Danny. We both know you'd love to be on Dash's team."

Danny's mind blanks for a moment, his cheeks growing hot against his will. "Uh... what? He literally used to beat me up every day."

"Keyword, 'used to.' And I never said you had good taste." Valerie shrugs. "Except for me, at least. But don't worry about it. Now come on; I want you on defence. You suck at scoring, but at least you can take a hit."

Danny hopes he doesn't need to.

—

No hits come his way, to Danny's immense relief. At least they are playing soccer and not football. Or floor hockey, God forbid. Danny's ankles still smart from the last time they played that. With soccer, there's not a whole lot of opportunity for Danny to get knocked around. Stuck on defence, he even has an excuse to hang back, hold off on all that "hustle" Tetslaff wanted to see. His teammates charge up and down the field, shouting and jeering as they fight over the ball, and Danny gets to trail behind, halfway between the throng and his team's net. He spends most of his time watching Dash. Purely so that he's ready if Dash decides to go after him, not for any other reasons.

"Suuure that's the reason," Tucker says when he notices Danny staring.

"It is!" Danny's protest falls on deaf ears.

Dash catches Danny's gaze more than once. Rather than looking away, Danny can't resist offering a shit-eating grin and a friendly wave every time. If he had any self-preservation skills, he would stop immediately. But there's a reason he's half-ghost now, and it's definitely not because of his critical thinking skills.

He manages to stay out of the action, for the most part, only rushing in when the ball comes close to him. Otherwise, Tucker and Elliot handle the rest. Tucker knowingly spares him the pain of ripping his stitches. Elliot, meanwhile, likes to swoop in at every opportunity to show Danny up. It might have gotten a rise out of Danny any other day, but right now, when his side throbs every time he takes a step, Elliot is welcome to do whatever he wants.

When they have class outside, Danny can't tell how much time is left. He guesses they are about halfway through, and nothing bad has happened yet. Maybe he can get through this, after all.

That's when he jinxes himself.

"Heads up!" Valerie's warning shout comes just in time. Danny ducks instinctively, hissing when his injury pulls. The soccer ball flies over his head, skimming the top of his hair. Then, Dash collides with Danny, his shoulder digging into Danny's side. He cries out as he goes sprawling, hands shooting to his side. It burns, searing across his ribs, almost as bad as when he first got the wound. The pain makes his head spin and his breath ragged.

He must blackout for a moment, because one second his face is pressed against the cool grass, and then suddenly he's staring up into Tetsalff's concerned face, Valerie, Sam, and Tucker hovering behind her.

"Deep breaths, Fenton," Tetslaff says.

It would be great advice if breathing didn't make his chest expand, and his chest expanding didn't make the gash on his side strain against the few stitches that hadn't popped when Dash rammed into him at full speed. What the hell. That was such a dick move.

"Okay, Fenton. You're out for the rest of the class. Go to the nurse if you need to," Tetslaff says.

He nods but makes no move to get up. He doesn't know if he can.

Tetslaff sees his plight, whether she understands the reason for it or not, and barks over her shoulder. "Baxter! Your fault, your problem. Help Fenton inside."

"We can take him," Tucker says. At the same time, Dash whines, "Come on, Coach. There's no way I hit him that hard."

Tetslaff sticks out an arm, holding Sam and Tucker back. "Get to it, Baxter."

Dash groans but relents and steps into Danny's field of view. Rather than kneeling, or doing anything actually helpful, he bends down a little and sticks out his hand.

Danny stares at it.

"Well? You're holding up the game, Fenton."

Danny almost gets up on his own, just to spite Dash, but the second he tries to lever himself up, his side screams, and Danny has to bite back another cry of pain. Reluctantly, he grabs Dash's hand. Dash hauls him upright, far from gentle, and sets Danny down on his feet. Dash starts forward, but Danny hangs back.

"Hurry up," Dash says.

"Just... hold on a second." Danny squeezes his eyes shuts and clamps his hands against his side. The pressure helps, a little. If he's bleeding, it'll at least hide the evidence. He really hopes he put enough gauze on the wound. He didn't exactly think he'd be dealing with this today when he wrapped it.

"Dude, we can take you," Tucker says. He and Sam haven't moved away. Even Valerie still hovers close by, giving Danny a concerned look over his friends' shoulders.

"Manson, you're team captain until Dash gets back. Foley." Tetslaff shakes her head. "Your grades aren't much better than Fenton's here. Let's go, back on the field. It's game time.

"But—"

"It's fine, guys." Danny tries to smile, but he is sure it comes out like a grimace instead. Neither of them look like they believe him.

"Ms. Tetslaff!" Valerie steps in front of the teacher. "Danny's on my team. I want to make sure he's okay. Kwan can take over as captain for me."

"Okay, fine. Now let's get back to the game, people!" Tetslaff puts a hand on Sam and Tucker's shoulder each and pushes them toward the field. Over her shoulder, Sam mouths "Thank you" at Valerie.

"Can we just hurry up?" Dash says. Before Danny is ready, Dash's hand clamps down his shoulder and starts driving him forward. Danny stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet, and is forced to open his eyes or else go tumbling all over again. Valerie appears on his injured side, walking fast to keep up with Dash's pace.

"Are you okay?" she asks. She reaches toward Danny, but holds back, her gaze flitting down to the hand over his ribs.

"Yeah, totally fine. I, uh, got caught up in that ghost fight yesterday, got a little bruised," he says.

"You should have told Tetslaff. She would have let you sit out," Valerie says.

"Yeah, I should have." Too bad Danny hadn't thought of that lie before. And it wasn't even a lie, technically.

The walk to the gym doors feels much farther than it did at the start of class. Dash yanks the door open once they're close enough and deposits Danny on the nearest bench. "There, you're fine. Whatever."

"Don't be such a dick, Dash," Valerie says.

Danny wobbles, bracing himself against the wall as he sits down. While Valerie helps, grabbing his arm and keeping him steady, Dash doesn't make a move.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks.

"Yeah. I'm just gonna sit for a bit."

"If you say so." With one last concerned glance, Valerie leaves the gym.

Danny sits, one hand pressed against his side, feeling the deep, pulsing ache that won't leave. The ice he applied earlier hasn't faded yet, but if Danny's stitches are ripped as he suspects, a little numbing cold won't help for much longer.

Dash clears his throat, reminding Danny that he hasn't left yet.

"What?" Danny glares at him through half-lidded eyes.

"Sorry, or whatever. I thought you were gonna move, okay?"

"You sure sound sorry."

Dash bristles. "Whatever, Fenton. I was trying to be nice, but I guess I'll just fuck off then."

"Yeah, you do that."

Dash stomps out of the gym without looking back, slamming the door behind him. The bang echoes through the empty room. Alone at last, a whimper slips through Danny's lips. You would think that, over the years, he would get used to getting injured so much, learn to adjust to the pain. Whoever first said that was such a liar. It never stops hurting. Dizzying pain is dizzying pain no matter how often you experience it.

Danny sits for a few minutes, breathing slow and even, bracing himself for what he knows is coming. Peeling his hand away from his side, he checks his shirt. Faint pink splotches greet his eyes, not a lot, but enough to make him groan. He reaches under his shirt, slipping his fingers underneath the bandages, and probes the tender skin. His fingers come away slick and red.

"Shit." He applies a fresh coat of ice, enough to seal over the wound, and pushes himself off the bet, slick hand sliding against the wood. The entrance to the boys' changeroom lies only a few feet away, but it feels farther. He shuffles inside, bracing one hand against the wall. The hall leading in stretches for a good ten feet before cutting into a sharp right angle and opening into the main room.

The silence inside is just as oppressive as the quiet of the gym. Even though it's the middle of the school day, being here without the chatter of other boys as they change feels odd.

Danny lets himself slump onto the bench, breathing heavily

"I'm gonna kill Dash," he says to the empty room. But knowing his luck, Dash would come back as a ghost and haunt the hell out of him. It seems like the kind of asshole thing he would do

Danny fumbles for his bag, hooking his finger around the strap and dragging it close. It takes him a minute of digging to find his phone, which he stuffed inside at the start of class. He quickly checks the time. There are ten minutes left of class. More than enough time to check his side and get patched up before Tetslaff dismisses everyone to get changed.

The smart thing would be to go into one of the showers, make sure he has complete privacy, but he doesn't want to put in the effort of walking that far.

"It'll be fine," Danny says and gets to work

—

Dash doesn't return to the game. As the gym door slams beside him, he leans against the wall and stares down at his shoes. Outside, he looks composed, but in his head, his thoughts tumble about. He can't shake the image of Valerie's glare. Fenton couldn't take a hit, so what? It's not like Dash actually didanything. He's gotten Fenton a lot worse than that before. It's not his fault the guy was already banged up from some dumb ghost fight. Not his problem.

And yet, the pained cry as Dash bowled Danny over, the sight of his crumpled body on the grass... it makes Dash shudder.

"I apologized," he says. There's no one around to hear it, to justify him. He wonders what his therapist will say about this, if Dash bothers mentioning it at their next appointment.

Valerie's glare flashes through his mind again.

"Okay, fine!" He throws his arms up and shoves away from the wall. One quick moment to check on Danny, then he'll return to the game. He's only doing this so that his therapist doesn't give him that look on Monday; the look that isn't quite disappointed, because she could never be disappointed in one of her clients, but comes pretty damn close.

Dash only receives that look when he does something dumb, like shoving nerds in lockers or taking his anger out on someone else.

Dash eases the door to the gym back open and peeks inside. The bench he left Danny on is empty. A smear of red stands out against the pale wood. Dash creeps inside, closing the door quietly behind him. His heart sinks as he nears the bench, and comes to the unmistakable conclusion: blood.

Not my fault, Dash reminds himself. It does little in the way of reassurance. Walking briskly, he heads for the doors leading further into the school. If Danny is bleeding, he must have gone to the nurse. Which means he will be fine, but Dash needs to be sure.

A low groan stops him in his tracks.

For a moment, he thinks he imagined it, but then it comes again, accompanied by a pained hiss. The sound comes from the changing room. Holding his breath, he turns from the door and enters the changeroom.

Short, sharp breaths greet him, growing louder as he nears the main room. A shaky whimper cuts through, followed by a gasp.

Dash peeks around the corner. He sees Danny's shirt first, discarded on the bench. Next to it is a pile of wrappings. It looks like the ace bandages Dash uses whenever he gets a sprain, although he doesn't remember seeing Danny wearing any. And then, he looks to Danny himself and pales.

One arm drawn back, head tilted forward to see his side, Danny peels a stained gauze pad away from his bloody ribs. Suddenly, Dash can't breathe. His throat feels clogged. His heart hammers in his ear. The gash in Danny's side is easily the length of Dash's hand. It rips across his ribs and curves up toward his armpit, ending just under his arm. Dash doesn't know much about first aid, but the stitches holding the wound together look sloppy. They pull in different directions, turning what appears to be a clean cut into a wobbly mess. Around it, Danny's skin is stained red. Blood seeps between the stitches.

A few small drops slide down Danny's exposed skin as Dash watches, pooling briefly against the waistband of his gym shorts before they are absorbed

"Fuck," Dash whispers.

Danny jumps back, spinning mid-air to face Dash. In his horror, Dash doesn't think to question the impossibility of that action. Danny drops the gauze pad, which lands bloody side down on the floor, and clamps his arm down over the injury.

"What are you doing?" Danny's voice hitches, caught between an accusing growl and a startled squeak.

Dash gapes, mouth opening and closing as he searches for something to say. His mind comes up blank. "Danny, what... what the hell? What happened to you?"

Dash's voice seems to snap Danny out of his shock. All at once, his body goes rigid and his expression turns cold. "Get out."

"You need to go to the nurse!"

"DASH!" Danny bellows.

Dash stumbles back, falling against the wall. Tetslaff's laugh voice is loud. Jack Fenton's voice booms. But just now, Dash felt the floor shake under his feet. Danny's voice rumbled in Dash's chest, knocked him off his feet. The whole school must have heard it, they had to.

"I won't say it again. Get the hell out right now," Danny says.

Dash obeys. Whether it's out of fear or a genuine desire to follow Danny's will, he can't tell. He books it out of the changeroom, across the gym, and bursts outside, only to come face to face with Kwan and the rest of the class.

"Whoa!" Kwan reels back in surprise. "You missed the rest of the game. Val's team won."

"Oh, the game. Right." Dash takes a deep breath, struggling to get himself under control.

"So... you gonna let us in?"

Dash doesn't move.

"Get out of the way, Dash," Valerie says. Pushing to the front of the group, she tries to shove past him.

Dash leaps in front of her. "No!" He can't let anyone else see Danny.

"Dude, not cool. We want to check on Danny," Tucker says.

Dash wavers. Danny's friends have to know what's up with him, right? There is no way he could have stitched that up himself, not with how much struggle it took to even look at the injury. When Tucker and Sam slip by Dash, he makes no move to stop them. Their entrance opens the floodway, and soon enough everyone is pushing past Dash into the gym.

"Wait!" He latches on to Kwan's arm as his best friend passes.

"Did something happen?" Kwan asks.

Dash swallows, unsure how to answer. "Sort of?" Now isn't the right time to tell Kwan, though, not with their classmates around them, and the rest of their friends absent.

"Let's go get changed." Kwan pats Dash's shoulder and guides him forward. Every step closer to the change room, Dash's anxiety mounts. Danny reacted so poorly to one person finding him. Dash can only imagine what will happen—what stricken look Danny will wear—when half their class walks in on his shirtless and bloody.

Except, when they turn the corner into the change room proper, Danny isn't there. His stuff is gone, too. Tucker's crumpled gym shirt covers the spot where the gauze pad landed. There are no signs Danny was there at all.

Next

[sincerelystranger]

Warning: This is 6k and there is explicit (s3xual) content. 

Can also be read on AO3

---

Jiang Cheng is zen.

Calm. At peace. Content. Fucked into nirvana.

Whatever.

He’s completely naked on the bed. His legs are still shaking and, to be honest, the air conditioning feels a bit cold, but he doesn’t have the energy anywhere in his body to grab the duvet and pull it over himself.

Whatever.

He’s content to die of hypothermia by air conditioning - that’s just how zen he is now.

Jiang Cheng feels the mattress sink to one side as Mingjue-ge (Or at least he assumes it’s Mingjue-ge. He’s too zen to open his eyes and check.) takes a seat next to him.

“Are you going to sleep?” Mingjue-ge asks, running his huge hand through Jiang Cheng’s bangs, lulling him into a further state of zen.

“Mn,” Jiang Cheng grunts in confirmation. It’s only because it’s Mingjue-ge that he bothers to answer at all.

“I’m going to go to the gym,” Mingjue-ge says, “Wait for me if you wake up before I get back. I want to have dinner together.”

Jiang Cheng actually cracks open his eyes at that.

Mingjue-ge is already dressed. He’s wearing those slutty tank-tops he seems to love. The ones that barely cover his nipples.

“How the fuck do you have energy for the gym?” Jiang Cheng asks, his voice coming out in a rough whisper. Fuck. Even his voice has been fucked tired. “I don’t get it. Am I a shit lay? You need more?”

The corner of Mingjue-ge’s mouth rises just the slightest amount and Jiang Cheng feels somewhat pleased by that. That small lift is basically a laugh from Mingjue-ge.

“The better my orgasm, the more energy I get,” Mingjue-ge says, leaning over Jiang Cheng to grab the duvet and pull it over Jiang Cheng’s naked body. He tucks the duvet over Jiang Cheng’s shoulders and leans down to place a kiss on Jiang Cheng’s temple. “You’re a great lay.”

If Jiang Cheng was the sentimental type he might say that the warm ache in his chest was… an emotion or something. But it’s not. It’s probably acid reflux.

Mingjue-ge is just a good person and an even better sex partner.

The only person Jiang Cheng has ever bottomed for and the only person who can hold Jiang Cheng up against the wall and fuck him stupid.

Jiang Cheng isn’t going to risk this kind of mind-blowing sex by developing emotions .

“Good,” Jiang Cheng says, closing his eyes again, fully prepared to fall asleep.

Mingjue-ge runs his fingers through Jiang Cheng’s hair again, quickly bringing Jiang Cheng to the brink of unconsciousness.

Just before Jiang Cheng falls asleep, he thinks he feels Mingjue-ge lean down and kiss him on his temple again.

“It probably helps that I’m in love with you.”

Jiang Cheng is zen.

Calm. At peace. Asleep.

There’s still a bit of light out when Jiang Cheng wakes up.

He takes a shower, because even though Mingjue-ge had wiped him down after he had single-dickedly wrecked Jiang Cheng’s entire body, he still feels sticky.

Also Mingjue-ge has a huge, custom-built shower to accommodate his giant ass. It’s a waste not to use it.

Mingjue-ge is back and in the kitchen when Jiang Cheng finally leaves the room.

Jiang Cheng just takes a moment to… appreciate Mingjue-ge’s figure. He’s still wearing his slutty tank-top, all of the muscles in his chest and arms and back out for display as he stands over the stove and does some magic cooking shit. And Jiang Cheng hadn’t noticed earlier, but Mingjue-ge is also wearing his shortest black gym shorts.

What an absolute whore .

Jiang Cheng suddenly isn’t sure what he’s hungry for. Food… or maybe he wants to lick a stripe up from Mingjue-ge’s ankle bone to the bottom of those scandalous shorts… and maybe he wants to nose those shorts up higher and bury his nose in Mingjue-ge’s balls.

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

He wants Mingjue-ge’s dick in his mouth.

“Stop objectifying my brother, A-Cheng,” a voice breaks him out of his lust-reverie.

Nie Huaisang is laying on the couch, his eyes glued (as always) to that stupid phone of his.

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng grunts.

Mingjue-ge turns then. “Good. You’re awake,” he says. “Food’s almost ready. Huaisang, set the table.”

“Da-ge!” Huaisang whines, “I haven’t eaten all day. I’m starved and out of energy. I can barely speak, much less set the table!”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes so hard he sees his brain. It’s no wonder Huaisang gets along so well with Wei Wuxian. They are the same person.

Mingjue-ge pays no mind to Huaisang’s whining. He just says, “Huaisang,” one more time.

Huaisang is looking at Jiang Cheng then, his eyes huge and his bottom lip stuck out so far it looks like it’s trying to leave Huaisang’s face. “A-Cheng… please… as payment for staring at my brother like he’s a two dollar slut walking down main street butt naked…”

“Shut the fuck up you stupid twink,” Jiang Cheng hisses. “I was looking… respectfully.”

“... Right,” Huaisang says, “Also licking your lips respectfully too, huh?”

“I’m hungry,” Jiang Cheng says and walks into the kitchen to grab the placemats and utensils.

Dinner is good. Normal.

Huaisang whines and eats like a baby bird. Mingjue-ge frowns and tells Huaisang to get his life together. And Jiang Cheng leaves with left overs and a promise to return Mingjue-ge’s shirt next time.

Nothing is mentioned of the horrible sentence Jiang Cheng heard before he fell asleep so Jiang Cheng chalks it up to a remnant of a dream he must have had and goes on with his life.

Jiang Cheng is about to die.

“I’m going to die,” he says, his voice breaking off in an embarrassing moan as Mingjue-ge moves slowly out of him. “I’m going to die, I’m going to die. I don’t have any cum left inside me, I’m going to die.”

“Shh,” Mingjue-ge says, placing little soft kisses along Jiang Cheng’s temple and down the side of his face. “You’re alright. I have you right here. Shh.”

And oh god fuck, Mingjue-ge is a fucking liar because how the fuck is Jiang Cheng going to be alright? He’s already cum twice and Mingjue-ge seems hell-bent on fucking him to death. There should be nothing left in his body, but his stupid, traitorous cock is still somehow rock hard and leaking.

Mingjue-ge’s dick slowly - ever so slowly - comes out of Jiang Cheng’s body. Jiang Cheng can feel every millimeter - his entire body hot and oversensitive. The tip of Mingjue-ge’s dick just presses on Jiang Cheng’s hole. Mingjue-ge rubs slowly around Jiang Cheng’s hole, pressing in just that little bit before coming back out. The pressure is ever present but it’s just not enough.

Jiang Cheng is shuddering, his arms around Mingjue-ge’s neck, holding on for dear life.

Mingjue-ge runs his hand down Jiang Cheng’s side and slides it under Jiang Cheng’s lower back, lifting him up just a little.

“I can’t, I can’t,” Jiang Cheng says, hiding his face in Mingjue-ge’s huge chest and trying to find his breath.

Mingjue-ge slides back in.

Jiang Cheng wants to cry.

“Shh,” Mingjue-ge hushes. He’s entering Jiang Cheng as slowly as he left him and it’s torturous .

Mingjue-ge enters him halfway and stops for a moment before he puts both his arms under Jiang Cheng’s back to lift Jiang Cheng up by slow degrees, letting gravity slowly press Jiang Cheng down further onto Mingjue-ge’s dick.

Jiang Cheng is shaking now. Actually shaking. He can’t even feel his legs right now, and even if he could, he doubts he has the strength left to hold himself up. He’s helpless. Impaling himself by slow degrees.

Mingjue-ge presses soft kisses down his neck as he lifts Jiang Cheng straighter and straighter.

Just when Jiang Cheng is almost completely sat, Mingjue-ge lifts his face to capture Jiang Cheng’s lips in his own.

The wet, hot brush of Mingjue-ge’s tongue against his own is distracting enough that Jiang Cheng doesn’t feel Mingjue-ge’s hands leave the small of his back and grab both of his ass cheeks to spread them open.

Mingjue-ge slides up in one fluid motion.

“No, no,” Jiang Cheng sobs. He doesn’t know if he wants to push away from Mingjue-ge or hold him tighter. Mingjue-ge pulls out before he can make a decision.

“Wh—!” Mingjue-ge slides back in before Jiang Cheng can say anything. He sets a brutal pace. It’s all Jiang Cheng can do to hold on. In this position, it feels like maybe Mingjue-ge’s dick is all the way in his stomach and that’s got to be messing up all his insides and he feels so hot and cold and he can’t even close his mouth it’s fucking humiliating and insane. He knows he’s slobbering like a fucking dog but he can’t help it.

“Ge… ge,” Jiang Cheng moans, “I can’t… I—“

Mingjue-ge just lifts Jiang Cheng then and turns him around so that his chest and face are pressed up against the wall.

One hand is pressed up against Jiang Cheng’s stomach, keeping him from just sliding back down onto the bed, and the other hand snakes down to press one finger on the tip of Jiang Cheng’s weeping cock.

“Little Jiang Cheng is telling me you can,” Mingjue-ge says, his breath hot against Jiang Cheng’s ear.

“He’s a liar,” Jiang Cheng sobs, “that fucking lying piece of —- mmm!”

“Okay, okay,” Mingjue-ge says placatingly, his hand rubbing small, soothing circles on Jiang Cheng’s stomach. “Let me finish and I’ll let you rest.”

Both Mingjue-ge’s hands come up to play with Jiang Cheng’s nipples and Mingjue-ge’s mouth sucks gently on the side of Jiang Cheng’s neck as the speed of his thrusts increase.

“No! Not there! Ge… Ge!”

Jiang Cheng has no clue when Mingjue-ge finishes because his vision goes white and there’s a strange ringing in his ear and…

Well it turns out Little Jiang Cheng isn’t a liar after all.

Mingjue-ge is wiping down Jiang Cheng’s body with a wet towel when Jiang Cheng comes to.

“I told you I couldn’t take it,” Jiang Cheng says, glaring weakly at Mingjue-ge. His voice is groggy again and it kind of hurts to swallow.

But his throat always hurts when he sucks Mingjue-ge off, so that’s not really a concern. The human throat really isn’t built to deepthroat a cock as big as Mingjue-ge’s but Jiang Cheng can’t help but try.

Mingjue-ge doesn’t say anything, but he opens a water bottle and lifts Jiang Cheng’s head with his giant hand so he can drink.

When Jiang Cheng is finished drinking, Mingjue-ge lays him back down and rubs his fingers soothingly over Jiang Cheng’s forehead.

“You took it just fine,” he says.

“Mm,” Jiang Cheng hums, feeling the comfortable sense of zen blanket over him again. “Who else are you fucking now? Tell me so I can make sure they’re a real person. I refuse to believe that there’s another fucker in the world who can take your entire cock like I can.”

Mingjue-ge is quiet for a long while. Long enough that Jiang Cheng thinks that maybe Mingjue-ge is just going to ignore his post-fuck nonsense.

“You’re the only one I’m sleeping with,” Mingjue-ge says suddenly. His movements steady as he continues to wipe down Jiang Cheng’s body. “The only one that I want to sleep with.”

It’s nothing.

Nothing.

It just means that Mingjue-ge thinks Jiang Cheng is a good lay.

But it still makes Jiang Cheng’s chest go weirdly hot. He feels… satisfied. Like maybe he won first place in a competition he didn’t even enter. Like he ate just the right amount and nothing was left on his plate. Like maybe he was fucked into nirvana.

Jiang Cheng feels Mingjue-ge get off the bed and hears him walk to the bathroom. He hears the water run for a moment and he hears Mingjue-ge come back and feels the mattress sink as he takes a seat once again.

A warm, wet towel runs gently over Jiang Cheng’s face.

He knows he must have dried tears and snot and spit all over his face and it should be embarrassing, but Mingjue-ge is the one responsible for it so it’s only right that he cleans it. So not embarrassing. Jiang Cheng refuses to be embarrassed by it.

Jiang Cheng is zen.

“Are you going to the gym again? Or was this orgasm not good enough,” Jiang Cheng asks, in a good enough mood to be snarky.

“I’m in love with you,” Mingjue-ge replies.

It’s an interesting change of pace from Mingjue-ge.

“Huh,” Jiang Cheng says after a long silence. “So… do you want to stop fucking for a while? How many days will it take you to get over it? A week? A month?” Because as unfortunate as it is that Mingjue-ge is currently in love with him, Jiang Cheng refuses to lose Mingjue-ge’s magic cock.

“I’m going to the gym,” Mingjue-ge says.

Another interesting change of pace.

Mingjue-ge gets ready in silence. Jiang Cheng watches him get ready in silence.

Jiang Cheng wonders if the silence is actually heavy or if he’s the only one who feels that way. He also wonders if his answer pissed Mingjue-ge off.

He feels cold again. Stupid air conditioning.

Mingjue-ge walks back over to him once he’s finished getting dressed. He’s wearing that stupid slutty tank top again (it’s white this time - what a complete slut). At least he’s not wearing his short shorts - even though the shorts he’s currently wearing are pretty short anyway.

Mingjue-ge sits down next to Jiang Cheng and leans over to pull the duvet over Jiang Cheng and tuck him in.

He leans down and presses a soft kiss to Jiang Cheng’s temple. “I don’t want to stop sleeping with you,” he says, “And I’m never going to get over it.”

Jiang Cheng looks up at Mingjue-ge, wide-eyed, as he straightens up.

His face must look funny because the corner of Mingjue-ge’s lip lifts up again.

Huge fingers run over his forehead.

“I’m a little more in love with you than you think, so hurry up and fall in love with me too.”

Mingjue-ge just… leaves Jiang Cheng like that. Too tired to leave the bed and too shocked to fall asleep.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to do with Mingjue-ge’s sudden confession so he does what he does best - ignores it.

It’s a great plan and it works out perfectly for him.

He still sleeps with Mingjue-ge at least three times a week (Fucking at least two of those three times). He still eats dinner with Mingjue-ge, sometimes breakfast, sometimes lunch. Sometimes they go to the gym together, and… and everything is perfect.

Mingjue-ge never brings up that he’s in love with Jiang Cheng and Jiang Cheng just goes on with his life, thinking that maybe Mingjue-ge’s confession was a hallucination of his.

Months go peacefully by.

And everything is perfect until…

“What’re you going to get Da-ge for Valentine’s Day?” Stupid Wei Wuxian asks, stupidly.

“Why would I get anything for Mingjue-ge for Valentine’s Day?” Jiang Cheng asks, shoving Wei Wuxian’s stupid long legs off of his chair irritably.

“Uh… cause you guys are dating?” Wei Wuxian replies stupidly.

“Who am I dating?” Jiang Cheng snorts. “We’re just fucking.”

Wei Wuxian stares at him with his huge, judge-y eyes.

“We’re not dating!” Jiang Cheng says emphatically.

“Why not?” Wei Wuxian asks.

Of all the things Wei Wuxian could have said in that moment, the ‘why not’ hits Jiang Cheng strangely. A strange ache in his chest that he chalks up to heartburn.

“None of your business,” Jiang Cheng says, his voice sounding weak even in his own ears. “Shut the fuck up before I beat you to death.”

“I mean is it Da-ge?” Wei Wuxian asks, his eyebrows scrunching up worriedly. “Is he just stringing you along? Does he refuse to settle down with just you? I mean I know he dresses like a floozy but I always thought he was a one-man type of guy.”

Jiang Cheng grabs whatever is nearest to him and throws it at Wei Wuxian. It turns out to be a book.

“He doesn’t dress like a floozy,” Jiang Cheng growls out, feeling strangely offended on Mingjue-ge’s behalf. “You dress like a floozy.”

Wei Wuxian, annoying as always, opens the book Jiang Cheng had thrown at him and flips through the pages, unbothered. “I dress like a floozy but I am a one-man type of guy so it cancels out.”

Stupid logic. Stupid Wei Wuxian logic that makes stupid fucking sense when it shouldn’t.

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng sighs, “You’re so fucking annoying. Nobody in the world can stand your voice.”

“Lan Zhan loves the sound of my voice,” Wei Wuxian says, smiling beautifically at him.

“Your ‘Lan Zhan’, is also a certified grade-one weirdo,” Jiang Cheng replies bitingly.

“At least Lan Zhan’s not the type of trash to string me along!” Wei Wuxian snarls back, throwing the book back at Jiang Cheng. “We only fucked once we were official. He’s a complete gentleman!”

Wei Wuxian’s reply surprises a snort out of Jiang Cheng so he fails at catching the book - which is fucking embarrassing and annoying.

“Fine, fine,” Jiang Cheng acquiesces with a roll of his eyes. “Your weirdo is a gentleman. Big deal. I bet he can’t fuck half as well as Mingjue-ge can.”

“I’d bet he fucks way better,” Wei Wuxian says. “Word on the street is that Da-ge is huge all over. I bet he just relies on that and has no technique.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t know why it makes him so irrationally mad to hear that anyone on any street is talking about Mingjue-ge’s dick and how he is in bed.

“Shut the fuck up,” he growls, grasping around to see if there’s anything else he can throw at Wei Wuxian. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

Wei Wuxian just looks at him with his stupid, huge, eyes, and they’re all sad and worried and ugh… Jiang Cheng wants to throw up.

“I can introduce you to someone nice, A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian says earnestly. “It’s awful that Da-ge is stringing you along like that and, you know what they say, the best way to get over someone is meeting someone new, so…”

It’s too much.

Honestly.

“It’s not Mingjue-ge!” Jiang Cheng roars. And then in an awful, ashamed whisper he says, “It’s me. I’m the one… stringing him along…”

Wei Wuxian stares at him.

And stares at him.

And stares at him.

And his eyes are huge and judge-y and Jiang Cheng just wants to melt in shame.

Finally - finally - he opens his mouth. “That’s not a nice thing to do, A-Cheng.”

No. Fucking. Duh!!!!!!

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Jiang Cheng hisses. “Not everyone can have these fairytale romances like you and jie, okay? I’m a good fuck buddy - I’m not a good… I’m not a good boyfriend! You know this! Look how badly I fucked it up with Wen Qing. I’m… I’m just not…” The words die at his lips. He feels angry and ashamed and guilty and angry and fucking angry and fucking stupid Wei Wuxian with his stupid judge-y eyes and his stupid questions and… Fuck!

He buries his face in his hands. Annoyed that he can’t even leave because this is his fucking room and why the fuck should he be the one running out with his tail between his legs?

They sit in silence a long while. Wei Wuxian probably just staring at him with his huge judge-y eyes and Jiang Cheng just… stewing.

Finally, Wei Wuxian gets a clue and Jiang Cheng hears him get off of Jiang Cheng’s bed - to hopefully leave Jiang Cheng’s room and let Jiang Cheng die of embarrassment and rage in peace.

But… of course, it’s Wei Wuxian so that doesn’t happen.

Jiang Cheng feels Wei Wuxian’s arms go around his neck in a loose hug and feels Wei Wuxian rest his huge head on his.

“You’re not who you were at sixteen, A-Cheng,” Wei Wuxian says, rubbing his head on Jiang Cheng’s like a cat. A poor attempt at soothing, Jiang Cheng is sure.

“Yeah, I know,” Jiang Cheng says sullenly. He knows. He knows. He knows.

“You were never a bad guy. You just met Wen Qing at the… wrong time. It was… difficult for everyone.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Wen Qing doesn’t hold it against you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Da-ge is hot as fuck and there’s a line of twinks waiting for your to fuck off out of the picture.”

“Yeah — wait!” Jiang Cheng breaks out of Wei Wuxian’s weird hug and turns to look at him. “Are you serious?”

Wei Wuxian looks down at him and nods solemnly. “Supposedly Da-ge hasn’t so much as looked at another person since you and him started… hooking up. The gays are furious with you for keeping him to yourself.”

Jiang Cheng isn’t sure how he feels about that… it feels like a strange mix of pleasure and rage and he kind of feels nauseous.

He stands up then and pushes Wei Wuxian towards the door.

“Okay, you’ve said enough. Leave.”

Wei Wuxian is relatively compliant. Only digging his heels in a little. “I think I’m going to make some homemade chocolates for Lan Zhan this year,” he says conversationally, as if he isn’t currently being manhandled out of the room. “Let me know if you want to make some with me. I’m buying the ingredients and supplies tomorrow.”

“You just never shut the fuck up, huh?” Jiang Cheng asks. And before Wei Wuxian can answer, he shuts the door.

Jiang Cheng ends up making chocolates.

He almost walks out when he sees the molds Wei Wuxian bought - little thumb sized penises, exaggerated kissy-lips, childish hearts - but he ends up staying because Wei Wuxian makes that stupid sad face of his and says, “I was looking forward to making these with you…”

Jiang Cheng is a fucking sucker and he hates himself.

Yanli-jie ends up joining them too, so all-in-all it ends up not too terrible of a time.

She giggles delightedly at Wei Wuxian’s stupid molds. “A-Xuan is going to be so mortified by these,” she laughs. “I can’t wait to see his face when I give these to him.”

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng laugh along with Yanli.

“I bet he’ll make that constipated face that he makes whenever he has to be nice to us,” Wei Wuxian says, knocking Jiang Cheng’s shoulder with his own. “You know the one where he pretends to love spending time with us but he just looks super pained?”

“Oh this one?” Jiang Cheng asks, and spreads his mouth in a horrific fake smile and tightens his eyebrows strangely - the exact face that stupid peacock makes whenever Yanli makes him spend even one minute alone with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng.

The entire table falls into laughter.

“Yes! That’s the one!” Wei Wuxian crows.

“Oh, come on,” Yanli says, giggling so hard her shoulders shake, “You’re exaggerating. It’s not that bad.”

“Love has blinded you, jie,” Jiang Cheng says with a shake of his head.

The chocolates come out better than expected.

Jiang Cheng chooses to put them in a tupperware instead of one of the fancy boxes Wei Wuxian had prepared for them because… because he feels a bit stupid.

They’re not even dating and Jiang Cheng is making chocolates.

Who knows if Mingjue-ge even likes him anymore?

It’s been months and Mingjue-ge hasn’t said anything since that nonchalant confession.

Maybe Mingjue-ge’s changed his mind and Jiang Cheng is going to look like an idiot tomorrow giving chocolates to his fuck buddy.

Maybe.

Still. Jiang Cheng goes to sleep that night, wondering what Mingjue-ge’s face will look like when Jiang Cheng gives him chocolates.

Jiang Cheng takes the chocolates out and puts them back into his bag about a thousand times before he leaves his house to go to Mingjue-ge’s.

They didn’t make any plans to meet today but…

Well… Mingjue-ge wouldn’t refuse him, right?

Right?

He shoves the chocolates into the bottom of his back and quickly runs out of his house before he can change his mind.

He walks to Mingjue-ge’s house. It’s a forty-minute walk normally, but Jiang Cheng takes the long way today. Winding around to pass by the gym he and Mingjue-ge frequent in hopes of running into Mingjue-ge there.

It’s just a chance, but if he ran into Mingjue-ge there that would make his plan go by so much more smoothly. He could pretend that he just saw Mingjue-ge by chance. Talk to Mingjue-ge a little. Feel him out. Maybe get invited to back to Mingjue-ge’s place instead of just showing up there like a fucking loser.

He’s busy imagining his perfect scenario when he reaches the gym.

A miracle of miracle happens and Mingjue-ge actually is standing in front of the fucking gym.

Jiang Cheng stops in his tracks and blinks rapidly. He’s not hallucinating this right?

Mingjue-ge is actually standing there…

It’s winter so he’s not wearing his slut shorts… No… He’s wearing something much worse.

He’s in fucking leggings.

His thin ass jacket (that is unzipped far enough down that Jiang Cheng can see his chest) barely covers his ass, and the leggings are so fucking tight that Jiang Cheng can see the crease of Mingjue-ge’s ass right above his perfect hamstring.

And to make matters worse, Wei Wuxian’s weird ass boyfriend’s perfect brother is talking to Mingjue-ge.

Jiang Cheng is too far away to hear exactly what they’re talking about. All he knows is that Lan Huan is fucking beaming up at Mingjue-ge. Laughing like Mingjue-ge said something funny - and Jiang Cheng knows for a fact that nothing Mingjue-ge has ever said in his life could be considered funny.

The final nail on the coffin is the way Mingjue-ge looks away like he’s fucking embarrassed . Like he’s fucking shy .

Jiang Cheng watches in slow motion as Lan Huan hands Mingjue-ge a… a box…

A fucking box…

On fucking Valentine’s Day.

He’s there before he’s conscious of it. Taking Mingjue-ge’s huge hand in his and forcibly dragging him away from the slutty, no-good, pretty faced motherfucker, Lan Huan.

He hears Mingjue-ge call out his name in confusion but it’s too late for talking to explaining or whatever the fuck rational people do.

He drags Mingjue-ge all the back… to Mingjue-ge’s apartment…

“What’s going on?” Mingjue-ge asks when they enter the apartment.

Jiang Cheng just paces back and forth - like a crazy person. Mingjue-ge is such a nice person, he thinks wildly. He just let Jiang Cheng drag him like that for ten minutes. He could have stopped Jiang Cheng at any time but he just let himself be dragged away like that and then dragged all the way back to his apartment with no questions or answers or what the fuck. He probably thinks Jiang Cheng is so weird. He’s probably regretting ever telling Jiang Cheng that he loved him - hell, he’s probably regretting ever sticking his dick in someone as insane as Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng just keeps pacing back and forth, his thoughts getting increasingly more crazy before he feels two hands grab him by his shoulders and hold him still.

He looks up dazedly at Mingjue-ge’s perfect face.

“Jiang Cheng,” Mingjue-ge says slowly, “What’s wrong?”

“You said you wouldn’t stop loving me,” Jiang Cheng says (like an insane person).

Mingjue-ge just blinks down at Jiang Cheng in obvious confusion.

His silence just riles up Jiang Cheng more.

“I mean, I don’t even get why you would say that to me,” Jiang Cheng says rapidly, “Were you just fucking with me? Did you find out that I liked you and felt bad or something? I mean I know I’m insane but you didn’t - I mean everyone says you're such a good guy. And, I mean, you are. You felt bad for me, right? I just looked really pathetic, huh? And you… you like taking care of people and —“

Mingjue-ge pulls Jiang Cheng into his arms then and forcibly shuts him up by squishing Jiang Cheng’s face into his chest.

“Shh,” Mingjue-ge says, patting Jiang Cheng’s back soothingly. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Just take a breath. It’s okay.”

Jiang Cheng listens to Mingjue-ge’s orders and takes a breath. Mingjue-ge smells like sweat and cologne and it’s so familiar that it does… calm Jiang Cheng a bit.

Mingjue-ge lets Jiang Cheng go after a few breaths. He kind of squats down to look at Jiang Cheng face to face.

“Hey,” he says softly, “What’s wrong? This isn’t like you.”

Jiang Cheng stares back. He takes in Mingjue-ge’s scowly eyebrows. His intense eyes. The perfect line of his nose. The stern set of his mouth. The sharp line of his jaw.

“This is me,” he says finally, feeling cut open and horrible.

Mingjue-ge just looks at him. His eyes impossibly kind and gentle and warm.

It feels like a knife in Jiang Cheng’s chest.

“I’m a horrible boyfriend,” he says, taking a shaky step back from Mingjue-ge. “Like… the absolute worst. I’ll probably get jealous of the way you treat your brother - okay? I already hate the way you dress. I hate that anyone else in the world can see your chest, and I want to burn those short shorts that you like.” Jiang Cheng takes another shaky step back, and this time he brings up his arms to cover his face. He knows he sounds crazy. He knows this is probably the end of him and Mingjue-ge. Covering his face will do nothing to protect him from that but he feels a little safer. “I’ve been sleeping with you all this time… pretending that I didn’t have… feelings for you because… because I wanted to protect you from me.”

Mingjue-ge is quiet and Jiang Cheng isn’t quite brave enough to lower his arms to look at him.

“But I did a shit job. I still… I mean, I’ve been aware of your feelings all this time and I’ve been pretending they didn’t exist. I was hoping that you’d just forget too - that you’d get over it. But now that you’re really over it I’m acting like… I’m sorry,” he admits quietly. “I know what I did to you - what I’m doing to you - is… wrong. I’m… sorry.”

Wei Wuxian was right. What he did to Mingjue-ge was just… mean.

People like Jiang Cheng deserved to be strung along but people like Mingjue-ge? Mingjue-ge didn’t deserve that.

He didn’t deserve Jiang Cheng ignoring his feelings - pretending that they didn’t happen. Pretending like they didn’t exist.

Because the truth was Jiang Cheng had known. He had always known. Even before Mingjue-ge had said it out loud. He’d known.

Because what kind of fuck buddy tucks you in? What kind of fuck buddy kisses your temple and makes you dinner and holds you while you sleep? What kind of fuck buddy invites you over just to make you dinner?

Mingjue-ge had been loving him all this time and Jiang Cheng had just closed his eyes to it. Pretended like it didn’t happen and now he was going to lose it. Because he was a fucking idiot.

He feels Mingjue-ge’s hands on his arm, dragging them down from where they’re covering his face. He closes his eyes and prepares to be… punched or whatever. Whatever Mingjue-ge feels he deserves.

He waits for it. Waits for pain. Waits for cruel words. Waits for the “Get out of my apartment, you psycho.”

Instead…

Strong fingers curve along his jaw. A hot palm rests on the side of Jiang Cheng’s cheek.

Jiang Cheng opens his eyes slowly.

“No one’s ever protected me before,” Mingjue-ge says, a small smile on his lips. “Thank you for your concern, but I don’t need it. I want you. I still want you. Jealousy, crazy, and all.”

“But Lan Huan gave you chocolates and you looked so happy talking to him,” Jiang Cheng says, blinking his eyes hard to try to rid them of the burning. He’s not going to cry in front of Mingjue-ge. He’s not. “And Lan Huan is so… pretty… and he’s probably not as crazy as I am.”

Mingjue-ge looks to the side… shyly… again!

“Well,” Mingjue-ge steps back and clears his throat. He puts his hand in his jacket pocket and pulls the box out awkwardly. He thrusts the box towards Jiang Cheng and after an awkward moment, Jiang Cheng takes it.

“I’m shit at stuff like this,” Mingjue-ge says, still not making eye-contact with Jiang Cheng. “Lan Huan’s good at… making stuff… so I asked him to make something for me… But… uh… It’s for you.”

Jiang Cheng looks at the box in his hand. It looks… pretty. Dainty. If he hadn’t just seen Mingjue-ge hand it to him, he would never believe that this box could come from Mingjue-ge.

He opens it carefully.

Inside is one heart.

The size of his palm.

Made of chocolate.

It’s trimmed with what looks like gold foil and in the heart, white frosting writes: “Love You Forever”.

Jiang Cheng looks up at Mingjue-ge.

Mingjue-ge is… still looking away.

“Look, I wasn’t going to give it to you like this,” Mingjue-ge explains in a rapid whisper. “I planned a dinner… I was going to invite you over later… It was going to be more… I have flowers.”

Jiang Cheng quickly runs his arm across his eyes. Quietly wiping away the stupid, stupid tears that might have threatened to fall.

He turns and digs through his bag to find his tupperware. He regrets not using Wei Wuxian’s fancy boxes now. Mingjue-ge deserves so much better than stupid Jiang Cheng with his not-fancy tupperware full of stupid shaped chocolates.

He brings them out and turns to thrust them towards Mingjue-ge anyway.

“I made these for you,” he says. “They’re stupid shapes because Wei Wuxian picked out the molds, but… but I made them… myself… for… you.”

The tupperware fits in one of Mingjue-ge’s hands. It looks oddly small and Jiang Cheng feels even smaller.

Mingjue-ge opens the tupperware and takes one of the chocolates out.

It’s a penis.

A fucking penis.

Mingjue-ge looks at it and looks at Jiang Cheng. The corner of his lip is quirked up and he looks… cute.

“Are you trying to tell me something?” Mingjue-ge asks pointedly.

Oh fuck. Holy fuck. Goddammit to all hell.

“I love you,” Jiang Cheng says, launching himself recklessly into Mingjue-ge’s chest. “I love you and I want your dick in my mouth for the rest of my life - that’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

Mingjue-ge wraps his arms around Jiang Cheng.

“Took you long enough.”

Wei Wuxian, infuriatingly enough, turns out to be right.

Jiang Cheng is not who he was at sixteen. His jealousy isn’t as dark and twisted and uncontrollable as he remembers it being. And he’s not as bad of a boyfriend as he had thought he would be.

Or maybe Mingjue-ge is just easy to please.

Whatever.

He’s laying on Mingjue— no, their bed, and watching Mingjue-ge get dressed for the gym.

He’s wearing his slutty ass tank-top, as usual, but he’s taken to wearing biker shorts under his short shorts today.

“Why are you wearing those?” Jiang Cheng asks, lazily. Luxuriating in his post-coital zen and also enjoying the way his naked body feels on the sheets.

Mingjue-ge looks down at his biker shorts and looks back up at Jiang Cheng, a small smirk on his lips.

“Well whenever I wear these shorts, I end up not being able to go to the gym because you suddenly want to suck my soul out of my dick. So I thought I’d add a layer of protection. For my dick.”

Jiang Cheng puts his thumb down in a thumbs down. “Boo, bad decision,” he says, “Besides, who was the one who said they didn’t need any protection?”

Mingjue-ge walks over to the bed and sits down next to Jiang Cheng. He ruffles Jiang Cheng’s hair fondly and runs his hand down Jiang Cheng’s back gently. “I don’t need protection,” he says, “Just my dick.”

Jiang Cheng squirms his head onto Mingjue-ge’s lap and nuzzles his nose against his dick.

“Mmm, I’ll protect it,” Jiang Cheng mumbles, mouthing along where he knows Mingjue-ge’s sac is.

Mingjue-ge’s huge hand traitorously blocks his advances.

“I need to get to the gym,” Mingjue-ge says, tempering his words with another hair ruffle.

“The bed is so cold without you,” Jiang Cheng whimpers pitifully. He tries to channel Wei Wuxian and look at Mingjue-ge with huge, sad eyes.

They don’t seem to work at all on Mingjue-ge, who just lifts Jiang Cheng’s head off of his lap and moves him so that he’s laid straight on the bed again. He covers Jiang Cheng with the duvet and kisses Jiang Cheng on his forehead.

Then on his temple.

Then on each of his eyelids.

Then his nose.

And finally…

A soft kiss on Jiang Cheng’s lips.

“Be good, I’ll be back soon.”

Jiang Cheng slips into sleep quickly as Mingjue-ge leaves.

He dreams good dreams.

Softness, kindness, light.

Afterall, Jiang Cheng is zen.

[cartoonsofthecosmos]

Amphibia Season 3a Episodes Predictions/Hopes

Some titles for episodes of season 3 of Amphibia were unofficially released a couple of days ago. While these titles have yet to be officially confirmed, I’m going to assume for a moment that they are correct and share my predictions and hopes for what each title could mean.

The New Normal: This episode is full-length instead of being divided into two segments like most Amphibia episodes. My hope is that this one has three segments of about equal length that show the “new normal” for Anne, Sasha, and Marcy. I would be disappointed if we had to wait until the next episode to find out what’s going on with any of the three girls.

Hop ‘Til You Drop: This is the first time we really get to see the Plantars exploring the human world. We get a relatively upbeat episode full of Hop Pop, Sprig, and Polly trying to pass as humans and being amazed at everything they see. Maybe we meet some new human characters.

Turning Point: Really hoping this is about Sasha. Specifically, I think it’ll be about Sasha realizing she has her priorities wrong, and ruling a kingdom is not the most important thing right now. I think this episode will mostly be just Sasha and Grime, where Sasha is pouring her heart out to Grime and reflecting on herself and Grime is being entirely unhelpful.

Thai Feud: There’s a few shots from the trailer that show Anne and Sprig in a Thai food truck that must come from this episode. They definitely seem to be running from something or someone - could this be someone Andrias sent, or a human who wants to know more about the Plantars?

Adventures in Catsitting: The Plantars are tasked with watching Domino while Anne and her parents go off to do something nice together. Things go horribly wrong, as the Plantars have no idea how cats work. Overall light-hearted episode.

Fight at the Museum: I’m going to say that the person at the center of this pic from the season 3 opening works at a museum, and maybe the blue-haired person behind them too. Anne and the Plantars go to meet these people for some reason when something, likely Andrias’s robots, attacks, and the museum workers end up helping Anne in the fight. New friends are made.

Temple Frogs: I have two potential ideas for this one. One is that Sasha, along with frogs from Wartwood, visit the temples and look for clues on what Andrias is doing and/or potential ways to get home. The other idea, and this is the one I like better, is that we get a flashback episode that tells us what’s up with these two frogs pictured next to Andrias. Others have theorized that these three previously matched up with the three gems on the box, and the title of this episode makes me think that theory might be right.

Fixing Frobo: The two people on the left side of the picture from the opening appear to be holding a robot, so this episode will be about them, well, fixing Frobo. It surprises me, though, that there’s a whole episode dedicated to this. Maybe they repeatedly try and fail to restore Frobo to his original condition, and Polly struggles to accept that they can’t?

Anne-Sterminator: Man, I... do not know with this one. I’ve seen other people guess that this episode has something to do with Anne learning how to use her calamity powers, which makes logical sense, but I still don’t know how the exterminator pun fits in. I guess maybe if Andrias sends robots that resemble bugs? Get back to me on this one.

[tenthgrove]

can i order a uhhhh... a hc scenario with la squadra members where s/o is kidnapped by a rival gang/syndicate no matter if s/o is a stand user or not? you don't have to do all the members if you don't want to c:

La Squadra rescues their beloved

La Squadra (separate) x Reader, Romantic, SFW

They left this morning with menial business. A hit, no complicating factors, minimal difficulty. There was no cause for concern in leaving you to watch the base. You relaxed on the sofa, content in the promise of a date that night and unaware of the figures creeping towards you from behind. Maybe if you had known what was happening, you could have saved yourself, but even the most powerful stand users in Passione are useless when knocked out. The intruders dragged your unconscious body out the window and into the trunk of the waiting car. If their intel on you was correct, the weight of your loss would immobilize the assassins for days. If only they knew the lengths your love would go to to bring you back.

Formaggio- There’s no way to beat around the bush. Formaggio panics. While he doesn’t doubt the capacity of his team to break you out, that relies on them actually knowing where you are. And that’s going to take hours of slow, excruciating investigation. Formaggio doesn’t have time for that! His baby’s life is on the line! But then, the young man bearing the conditions of your release arrives at the hideout, and Formaggio gets an idea. They aren’t going to comply with the terms, but they aren’t going to take Ghiaccio’s idea of just killing the agent and his escorts either. Instead, as Risotto is sending them on their way, Formaggio slips himself into the agent’s bag. How kind of the man to give him a ride all the way back to the enemy’s hideout! Once there, Formaggio shrinks himself further to the size of a keyhole, and slips his way through doors until he reaches the dingy room you’re being kept in. He crawls into your lap and nudges you to wake up. You’re amazed and overjoyed, and spare no delay in letting him shrink you down as well so you can sneak out together. Your captors will never know what happened! After a couple days of recuperation, the two of you will be sure to return with the rest of the team to give the group who took you their payback. Formaggio wants them to know what happens to anyone who hurts his beloved, and he’s going to make sure the two of you have fun doing it.

Illuso- Illuso’s first concern is to balance the dangers of busting in to save you without adequate planning, with the dangers of leaving you alone too long. Fortunately, Illuso’s stand is perfect for observation without risk of being spotted, so it’s easy for him to spy on the enemy syndicate’s associates and follow the right leads until he finds you. Taking a prisoner from La Squadra di Esecuzione has everyone in the syndicate talking, so it’s only a matter of hours until Illuso collects the information he needs to find you. With that sorted, Illuso seeks you out and pulls you into the safety of the mirror world immediately so you can’t be harmed, but then, he’s going to fuck with your captors. The doors are barred from the outside and they find their colleagues disappearing one by one until suddenly, the hallways start to look wrong. It’s as though the layout of the building has been flipped somehow. Then they see the laughing figure approach them, and they know it’s too late. You watch this all go down from the safety of behind Illuso, content to watch your captors cower like children as your boyfriend avenges your imprisonment.

Prosciutto- For a day, there is silence. The success of their plan is almost surprising to your captors, who fully expected at least one reprisal from La Squadra by now. They’re ready to present the terms of your safe return when, another shock, Prosciutto beats them to it. He phones them up. In exchange for your safety, he promises to switch sides. Your captors are floored. He’s actually willing to take their deal without them even needing to hurt you? Perhaps he won’t be worth much to them at all if he’s this spineless! Nonetheless, they agree to a meet up. Prosciutto can come, but he has to come alone and with no weapons. They’re fully aware his stand is indiscriminate, so if they bring you to the meet-up, the risk of hurting you would render him powerless. Surely. When the meet up begins it seems Prosciutto has kept to his word. He is alone, free of any weapons and carrying nothing but a suitcase of ransom money to smooth things over. Everything goes as expected and you find yourself staring dumbstruck as Prosciutto so willingly signs away his loyalty to Passione. Finally, Prosciutto hands the leader of the enemy suitcase the briefcase. A token of goodwill, he assures him. The leader unlocks the latch and opens the case, and is hit by a wave of cold air. The case is packed with nothing but bags of ice. Your heart leaps. “(Y/N)! CATCH!” Prosciutto yells, ripping the suitcase back from the mobster’s hands and tossing it at you. As the confused mobsters try to make sense of what is going on, Prosciutto summons his stand and begins its deadly effect. You hurriedly stuff the ice bags down your clothes to save yourself, but nobody around you is in any state to make the connection. One by one, they wither and fall. Grateful Dead snaps into nothingness and Prosciutto lends you a hand, helping you to your feet.

Pesci- You’d think he’d freeze up. You’d think he would become paralysed and indecisive with the fear of losing you. But no. When Pesci realises what has happened to you, all he can feel is anger. Anger and resolve. He sits down immediately and begins compiling everything that is known about the group that took you, having no qualms with ordering about anyone who volunteers to help him. Within a couple of hours he knows where you most likely are and has a concrete plan to get you out. And yes, it involves a lot of blood. Pesci will accept help in getting you back, as he knows it increases your chances, but he still wants to be the one to avenge the wrongs against you. Make no mistake that Risotto and Prosciutto are only there for support. The unprepared kidnappers have no chance against Beach Boy, when Pesci’s insecurities are completely buried under an overwhelming desire to be back in your arms. The battle is over in minutes and Pesci is holding you tight, muttering that he’ll never let anyone harm you again. Prosciutto is proud of him, as are you.

Melone- Now this is somewhat fortunate. With your permission, Melone collected some of your DNA a while ago in case you ever became useful as an emergency mother or father for his stand. He doesn’t make a habit of tracking you, but with your profile saved to Baby Face’s memory he can activate that ability whenever he wishes, and have your location in a matter of minutes. Deciding that with your life on the line, there isn’t time for him to take the lengthy route of creating a junior to attack your captors, he calls on the help of the rest of the team to break you out by force. But even with Risotto or Ghiaccio leading the attack, Melone will still ask to come along just to be reunited with you all the sooner. He’s going to be at his absolute best in taking care of you after you’re safe, making sure you’re unharmed and reassuring you with his attention. In terms of revenge, Melone would like to see you take your own against your captors. If any were taken alive, he wants to see you make them pay.

Ghiaccio- There’s no sense of hesitation as Ghiaccio speeds out the front door the second he realises what happened. It’s a good thing that La Squadra already has some knowledge of the group that took you, because Ghiaccio’s going to make up his plan as he goes along. All he can think about is having you safe and alive, and those thoughts possess him as he goes from place to place, tearing up every known haunt of the syndicate holding you captive until he finds you. When he finally arrives at the correct place, your capturers know to expect him. They’ve increased their security to the max until there’s a veritable army present to greet him at the door. But it’s no match for White Album. Nothing is. Ghiaccio doesn’t stop running when he gets to you. He carries you in his arms at full speed all the way home, terrified of any small injury you might have gained. Your close-call will leave him shaken, and he’ll guard you very closely for a long time. However, there won’t be any talks of revenge. After Ghiaccio’s rampage, there is nobody in the enemy syndicate left to pursue.

Risotto- A darkness falls over Risotto’s eyes when he finds you missing. His mind is filled with regret- regret for not following up on this new enemy sooner and regret for leaving you alone while the rest of them went out. But the time for remorse will come later. Now, he’s going to get you out. He scowers his contacts for clues as to your whereabouts, and he’s not afraid to threaten anyone he suspects of being compliant with your capture to find out what he needs to know. Anyone in the building when Risotto arrives might as well already be dead; he’s not showing mercy to any of them. After ensuring your safety, Risotto has no need to finish things quickly, so your captors will be subject to slow, agonising deaths courtesy of Metallica. Risotto believes strongly in principles of revenge, so he invites you to take the finishing blows if you so wish. Once the enemy hideout is coated wall to wall in crimson, Risotto wordlessly picks you up, regardless of whether you’re hurt, and carries you home. He takes you to your shared room and cradles you gently until morning comes.

Sorbet and Gelato- When the team discovers what has happened Sorbet and Gelato share a silent, all-telling look. They disappear to their room shortly after and anyone who passes can hear the distinct noise of weapons being moved around and loaded. They leave the information gathering to those more suited, but as soon as your location is known they emerge from their room armed to the teeth, announcing that they’ll be leaving right this second regardless of who will be joining them. They ram down the gates of the enemy hideout with a car, before bursting in, firing off their guns at whoever is unfortunate enough to be near. Gelato keeps everyone occupied at the front of the house, while Sorbet takes the mildly more stealthy route to seek you out. When they find you, you’re struck by the fact they seem almost gleeful to be presented with the opportunity for such bloodshed. But make no mistake, they’re absolutely furious. Never have either of them had to deal with one of their lovers threatened to this extent. Like Risotto, they’ll be looking to make your kidnappers suffer, but it won’t be over so quickly for them. They’ll be dragging the worst offenders home, to be subject to their torment for however long they please. The rest of La Squadra knows better than to ask questions. When they aren’t down in the basement getting revenge against those who hurt them, they’ll be sandwiching you between them on the bed or the sofa, whispering words of affection into your ear. You’ll be lucky if they let you get up any time this year.

[nashibirne]

Please don't stop the music

Pairing: Clark × y/n / reader

Summary: Clark Kent is your neighbour and good friend but over the last months you've fallen in love with him. Clark has no clue because you're way too shy to make a move on him. So you yearn for him secretly. Until today...

Credits: This was inspired by @fuckoffbard 's fantastic playlists for some of Henry's characters. Check them out, there's such a lot of great, inspiring music to discover!

Warnings: pure fluff, lots of kissing and smut too, virgin reader, deflowering, first time, sex, unprotected sex, all vanilla and sweet, friends to lovers, nsfw, 18+

Unbeta'ed! English is not my mother tongue, so read with caution. 

This is my first try to write from reader's perspective. There's a lot of "you" and "he" in it but I hope it's okay.

Tags:

@agniavateira @lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red

So...let's get the party started

"That was delicious, Clark. The best chicken pot pie I've ever had." You lean back in your chair with a satisfied sigh, placing a hand on your belly. "Thanks. It's my mum's recipe. I'm glad you liked it." "I did. It will take some beating to make something better next friday."

You have established kind of a habit over the last few weeks. Every Friday night you cook for each other and watch Netflix together afterwards. This week it's been Clark's turn to cook for you in your apartment. Those nights are heaven and hell at the same time for you. It's heavenly to spend so much time with him, to be close to him but the constant secret craving is dreadful. You could do something about it, sure, but that would mean to lower your guard, to expose yourself, to run the risk of getting rejected and hurt and even worse of losing Clark as a friend. 

Apart from the fact that you are almost pathologically shy you wouldn't even know how to make a move on him because you've never done something like this before. You have never confessed your feelings for someone, you've never made the first step. You've never been in a relationship. You have never done more than kissing. You are a grown up woman and still a virgin.

At least in real life. In your fantasy you are an experienced badass of a woman, in your dreams you are a self-confident bomb shell, in the short stories you secretly write you do all the naughty things you've never done in reality though you'd love to. Your fictional alter ego does all the things you yearn for. She's straight forward, extroverted, sexy. The hottest guys fall for her as soon as they lay eyes on her. She knows how to please a man and how to make a man please her. She knows no limits, no taboos, no coyness. 

And thanks to internet research, porn, fan fiction and masturbation you know everything about sex - technique, positions, kinks, toys, language. You're a pro in theory and clueless in real life. 

"So what about some music." Clark interrupts your thoughts. Still a little absent you point at your mobile. "Sure, just choose a playlist. The app should be opened."

You regret your words as soon as they've left your mouth.

Shit.

Clark grabs your phone and starts scrolling through the music app.

Please, don't see it. Please, don't see it. Please, don't see it.

"You have a playlist called Clark?"

Fuck!

"Umm...yes?"

He chuckles and gives you a funny look. His beautiful blue eyes find yours and your heart starts racing.

"Why?"

"What do you mean why? Just because." How can you ever explain to him that this playlist includes all the cheesy, steamy, sad and cheerful songs that make you think about him. That you listen to when you daydream about him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Clark laughs, leaning forward, cocking his head. "You make a playlist and name it after me for no reason?"

Ground swallow me up...

"Who says I named it after you?" You cross your arms in front of your chest defensively.

"So there's another man called Clark in your life? Who's he?"

Think for heaven's sake. Think.

"Well...um..."

"Yes?" Clark grins, obviously having fun watching your attempt to wriggle out of this situation.

"Well, if you must know...you're right. It is named after you. It was supposed to be a surprise. I put all the songs in it, I think you might like. I planned to send you the link for your birthday."

Good...badass move.

You sigh with relief a little too loud.

"Oh really? That's nice. Great idea actually."

"Thanks."

"Can we listen to it?"

"No! Of course not. You'd spoil the surprise!"

"Oh, come on, y/n. You have seven months left to add new songs."

Shit.

Without waiting for permission Clark starts the playlist and you're horrified when you hear 'Addicted' by Saving Abel. Of all songs he's chosen one of the sexiest. Heaven help!

"Never heard of this one. Sounds great. I like Rock." Clark says, listening to the lyrics carefully.

I'm so addicted to

All the things you do

When you're going down on me In between the sheets

Oh the sounds you make With every breath you take

It's unlike anything When you're loving me

"Interesting choice." he mumbles with a smirk and a wink that makes you blush.

"Yeah...now give me my phone."

"No way." Clark laughs and skips to the next song. You smile when 'Chicken Fried' by the Zac Brown Band starts playing. This song feels like home for you and you love imagining you and Clark visiting a bar that plays country music where you have a beer and dance all night long.

You know I like my chicken fried

Cold beer on a Friday night

A pair of jeans that fit just right

And the radio up

You can't help but nod your head to the rhythm, humming along. Clark raises an eyebrow, watching you curiously, a smile playing on his lips. "So what's next?" 

'I wanna kiss you all over' by Exile sounds from the little Bluetooth speaker on the table now.

I wanna kiss you all over

And over again

I wanna kiss you all over

Till the night closes in

"Oohh..." Clark wiggles his eyebrows. "Seventies rock...really?"

"Yes. Really." you snap and grab for your phone but Clark's too fast. He grabs it first and presses it to his broad chest. 

"Come on, Kent. Choose another playlist. That's stupid." You are really annoyed and embarrassed now.

"Why? It's pretty interesting which kind of songs you've chosen for me. Tim McGraw, Chris Stapleton, Jeff Bates..seems I strike you as a country guy." He scrolls through the playlist with a big grin. "And what's that?" He starts laughing again, skipping to the next song. "Barry Manilow?" 

'Can't smile without you' That's maybe the cheesiest song ever but you love it so so  much. Every single word of the lyrics expresses what you feel for Clark so accurately. The melody makes you so happy, everytime you hear it you picture yourself and Clark as a happy, loving couple, spending a wonderful day in the park. Just like the couples in chick flicks do it all the time. Kissing and laughing and holding hands, making a little picnic on the lawn beside a lake, drinking champagne and eating strawberries from each other's hands. 

And you see I can't smile without you

I can't smile without you

I can't laugh and I can't sing

I'm finding it hard to do anything

You see I feel glad when you're glad

I feel sad when you're sad

If you only knew what I'm going through

I just can't smile without you

You sigh thinking about it but Clark is close to a laughing fit. "Please, y/n. Tell me you don't seriously think I like that kind of music." He wipes away a tear from the corner of his eye. You press your lips together unable to say anything. You realize you're on the brink of bursting into tears and you get up from your chair quickly.

"Just delete the songs you don't like, there's no need to make fun of me." You turn around and stare out of the window, no longer able to hold back tears.

"Hey, y/n. What the hell...." Clark is by your side within seconds. He looks at you with a worried and confused expression. "Hey." he says softly again. "What's up, why are you crying?" He takes you by your shoulders gently and turns you around to make you look at him. "I'm sorry. I was just teasing you. Please...don't cry."

You sob and rub your eyes to stop the tears from falling.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm being ridiculous. It's just...that stupid playlist. You weren't supposed to see it..."

"It's not really a birthday surprise, is it?"

You shake your head.

"So what is it." 

You don't dare to look at him. You just stare at your feet without saying a word.

"Y/n?" He touches your shoulder and a shiver runs down your spine.

"I can't tell you." you whisper.

"Why not?"

"It's silly."

"I'm sure it's not. Just tell me, okay?"

You lift your head to look at him. You gulp when you realize how close he's standing to you. His eyes meet yours and he gives you an encouraging nod. "Okay. I'm going to tell you under one condition."

"Yes?"

"Promise me not to say anything about it. I tell you what the playlist is about and you won't say a word, okay? We will never talk about this again."

Clark stares at you for several seconds. "Okay." He finally agrees with a frown.

You swallow hard, closing your eyes, taking a deep breath before you open them again. Clark takes your hands in his. "Whatever it is. You can tell me." You know he wants to reassure you but to feel your hands in his makes you even more nervous. At the same time you would never  want to let go because the sensation of closeness and intimacy is so incredible. You clear your throat, knowing full well that it's too late to back down.

You can do this. 

"The playlist... It's not for you it's more...about you." You look him in the eyes and he smiles at you, nodding slightly, indicating to you to go on. "All these songs, they are somehow connected to you. They remind me of you. They make me think about you. They make me dream about you." Your voice fades into a whisper. "Because I'm in love with you."

You lower your eyes and stare at your feet. Several seconds pass before you feel his finger under your chin. Clark lifts your head gently and makes you look at him. He keeps his promise and doesn't say a word. Instead he brings his lips close to yours and you look at him with surprise. In his eyes you see happiness and lust and you gasp when you realize that he's about to kiss you. 

When his lips touch yours, time seems to stand still. When he starts kissing you tenderly the world stops turning for a moment. The kiss intensifies and you feel like you're melting in his embrace, in his strong arms. You feel his hands on your waist, sliding under your blouse and you mirror his actions, following his lead. When he feels your touch he moans softly into your mouth.

Clark pulls away and breaks the kiss, he's just as breathless as you.  "Am I allowed to say something? Not related to the...you know what." he asks with a smirk.

You giggle and nod your head. "Sure."

He cups your face with his big hands and looks you deep in the eyes.

"I'm in love with you too, y/n. More than you can imagine maybe. More than I could have imagined before I met you."

"Clark..." You kiss him again and things heat up quickly. You can feel his fingers all over your body, his lips all over your skin. You can tell how aroused he is by the huge bulge in his jeans that presses against you. His moans are so incredibly sexy, the way he whispers naughty little things into your ear makes you shiver. Your panties are soaked and you wonder if this is normal or if he's going to be disgusted when he finds out.

You get your answer only seconds later. Clarks hand is between your thighs now, wandering higher, underneath your skirt, until it reaches your crotch. It slides over your panties between your legs with light pressure which causes you to sigh with lust and desire.

"You're all wet for me." Clark whispers in your ear. "So sexy..." He's heavily breathing now and you get turned on even more. "I want you. I want you so much" he moans into your neck, his hands on your breasts playing with your nipples.

"I want you too, Clark." You groan loudly, when sucks on the sensitive spot above your collarbone.

He pulls away, gives you a smirk and takes your hand, leading you to your bed, that is placed in the corner of your one-room-apartment.

You're about to lay down but he stops you.

"Not so fast." He kisses you again and then he begins to take off his clothes. When he's done and you finally dare to take a look, you can't help but let out a little whistle. "Wow. You're shredded...and...big." You're amazed and scared at the same time.

Jesus. How's this supposed to fit?

Clark seems to read your mind. "Don't worry, you're gonna like it." He gives you a sexy lopsided smile and pulls you close. The next round of hot, passionate kisses follows and he starts to unbutton the light summer blouse you're wearing and strips it off you body. You take off your skirt and feel very self-conscious when you stand so close to him in only your underwear. 

"Look at you. You're beautiful." Clark whispers in your ear while he unclasps your bra. Only seconds later it lands beside the bed together with your panties.

"You're beautiful." He repeats and you blush. You reach out your hand and touch his chest. He grabs your hand and presses it on the spot above his racing heart. You're relieved that he seems to be a little nervous too. He grins and gives you a light, playful push and you fall on your bed, landing on your back. When you smile at him he plops down on the bed right by your side and kisses you again. Your hands start exploring your naked bodies. You touch Clark's cock shyly and caress it carefully. It feels wonderful, smooth like velvet and hard as a rock.

"Fuck, y/n. That's great. So hot..." Clark growls in a dark voice full of arousal and he starts stroking your pussy. His fingers run through your wet folds and he rubs your clit, making you whimper with pleasure.

"Oh god." you sigh. This feels so much better than you could ever have imagined. So much better than doing it yourself. He's rough and gentle at the same time and you love it.

When you feel one of his fingers at your entrance you flinch. 

"Clark, wait!" You make him stop before he pushes in.

"What's wrong?"

"I've never done this before." 

"This?" He's visibly confused.

"Sex." you say, giving him a sheepish smile.

Clark sits up straight, taken by surprise.

Shit...Mood killer

"You're a virgin?" he asks with an amazed frown.

"Yes. I'm sorry..."

"There's no reason to be sorry, babe. I just wasn't expecting that. It's okay." He gives you a tender little kiss. "We don't have to do it tonight, if you don't want to. We can wait. Do it another time."

Nope. Not gonna happen.

"No! I've waited long enough. I want this. I want to sleep with you. Tonight. Now." You say insistently. "I just wanted you to know why I'm so clumsy and insecure." 

"You're not clumsy. You are doing this perfectly." 

"Okay." You sigh with relief.

"So do you want me to go on?" You feel his fingers on your pussy again.

"Yes." You moan.

Clarks starts pleasuring you with his hand again. He stimulates your clit, strokes your folds and gently fingers you, finding your g-spot without problems and soon you're a panting, whimpering mess.

"Clark...fuck..."

"You like that, y/n?"

"I do. I'm close..."

"Then come for me, babe." 

And that's what you do. You close your eyes and a powerful orgasm runs through your body, causing you to convulse with loud shrieks and long, lustful moans. When you look at Clark again he smirks and carefully climbs on top of you.

"Are you ready for me?"

"Yes." You nod eagerly.

"Sure? I need to hear that you want this, angel."

"I want it. Fuck me, Clark." You hiss when you feel the tip of his huge dick press against your entrance.

"I'll be careful. I promise." He smiles and strokes your cheek. "Whenever you feel uncomfortable just tell me and I'll stop, okay?"

"Okay." 

Clark kisses a trail from your mouth down your neck to your tits where he sucks your nipples, gently biting them. You sigh and you can't wait to feel him inside of you. You lift your hips and Clark slowly pushes his cock into your pussy, bit by bit he enters you carefully and it feels sensational. He stops when he reaches your hymen and then he quickly pushes through. The pain you feel is sharp but it's over in the blink of an eye and all you feel afterwards is pleasure. The pleasure of Clarks dick stretching you to the max, filling you completely. 

"You're ok?" He looks at you, searching your eyes for any sign of pain or disapproval. 

"I'm good. This feels great." you whisper and when he starts moving carefully with slow, short thrusts you moan his name again and again.

"Fuck, you are so tight...this is...spectacular." Clarks voice is raspy and he picks up speed a little. "You take me so well, babe." He moans out of breath. "I'm close." 

His thrusts get harder and faster but he's still careful and gentle. It doesn't take him long to cum hard with a loud growl. He collapses on top of you and you kiss passionately, hugging each other tightly while his dick is still inside of you. When he finally pulls out and rolls off  you both sigh in unison.

"That was wonderful, Clark."

"Did it hurt?" He looks at you with a worried expression on his handsome face.

"Just a tiny little bit." You say and rest your head on his chest, playing with his chest hair.

You giggle when you hear 'Tennessee Whiskey" by Chris Stapleton sounding from the speaker.

"The playlist is still running. Maybe I should stop it." you say, ready to get up and look for your phone but Clark stops you.

"Don't" he murmurs. "Your playlist is perfect. So please don't stop the music." 

"Sure?"

"Sure. Can't wait to make love to you to every single song." And with a smirk on his lips he falls asleep and you close your eyes too, feeling immensely happy, satisfied and loved.

[ateezinmymind]

my brother’s best friend (part 3)

word count: 4k

fluff, angst (tw: mentions of abuse)

(part 2) (series masterlist)

tag list: @brie02 @a-soft-hornytiny @reeateez @multidreams-and-desires @woowommy @joongiebug @dreamyyang @fag0thh @renjunes @jung-wooyoungie @springbreeze96 @lizsvcks @yeosangmystar

the silencing aura between the two of you would seem unbearable to sit through- if it were in any other condition. the drizzle misting your clothes, skin and hair along with the distinct shatter of the different groups of people's conversation down the dock was the only thing you could physically understand and sense.

“y/n” wooyoung starts, the look in his eyes desperate for something you couldn’t make out at the moment, seeing him after such intense emotions about seonghwa, and having the one boy that you wanted to consolidate your heart in front of you made your tears break through. releasing a small whimper, seeing the way wooyoung stiffens himself and brings his hand to cover his busted lip. he calls your name once again a bit louder, stepping to the bench —sliding himself to your side.

you were flooding with so many emotions, those of confusion and guilt

“wooyoung.. i-“ you choke out as he instinctively pulls you into his chest. heaving out, and feeling his body shake as he too releases a cry.

“y/n, why..?” he says quietly in your ear “why are y-you here?”

“I needed to get away from h-him” you mumble into his damp shirt clutching onto him close, smelling the scent of fresh spring and comfort from his body- eases you into a sort of relaxation

the grip on your waist tightens when he hears that seonghwa was troubling you, nuzzling into his neck until all the sudden wooyoung is standing. one of his hands still remains along your side as he bends over to look into your puffy eyes, moving stray hairs out of the way and behind your ear- wooyoung puts his forehead against your own.

“do you want to walk with me?” he speaks softly, swallowing hard when you give him a faint smile- accented with a beautiful blush along with the few tear streams. your eyes searching in his, heads touching, the two of you so close you feel the warmth of his breath against your face.

sliding your head away from his, you stand up straight into his arms again- this time giving him a proper hug. arms wrapped tightly around his torso as wooyoung's hands slide from your waist to your lower back, bringing you closer against his body.

you didn't realize how much affection you’re starved of, and how long you've actually been waiting to fully embrace wooyoung again.

“y-yeah, that'd be nice” you reply into his chest not wanting this moment to end so soon

even though the terms of you two running into each other was on the lower side, it felt so good to have a face you knew that cared for you- a boy who was respectful and sweet to you.

“c’mon pumpkin” wooyoung chirps up, pulling away

you slightly blush from the nickname, it was cute.. and sweet.. just like him.

though something was definitely up, hence the way his lip was busted and the way undertones of purple were rising along his jaw

all of this, just as you were about to walk made you stop in your tracks. pulling wooyoung's arm so he turns around, you slide your hand to gently trace your fingers over his chin. feeling his smooth skin, then to his lip, softly running your thumb over the plump and red mound.

doing this causes the male to suck in a breath, the way your fingers delivered such delicacy to his face made his heart pull. the look in your eyes and how your eyebrows furrowed together looking at his face- made him a bit more nervous than he would like

“will you please tell me what happened?” you whisper, leaning in slightly as your hand comes behind his neck pulling him down to his ear

“pretty please woo woo?”

you pout sadly when he rips away from you, and watch him start to turn towards the end of the dock.

you just stand there shocked that he just started leaving, feeling your face burn with embarrassment you huff out with guilt. did you say something offensive? did you push the limit to your boundaries?

“y/n! are you coming?” wooyoung breaks you from your mind running thoughts

standing there with a hand rubbing the back of his neck as he balances on the ends on his feet, your heart tugs slightly.

“i said i wanted to walk with you”

the rain settled down as the two of you got back to the sidewalk, up away from the beach. the sky just beginning to turn dark, the lights lit along the railing of the dock twinkling in the distance when you look back.

you and wooyoung walking side by side, shoulders touching each other slightly every so often- making him bring space between (it would seem as from shyness?). neither of you had spoke a word yet, the tension heavily overwhelming the atmosphere

the way the silence just rested over, made you and your thoughts come through. you were a bit cold, your clothes although dry from the previous precipitation- your internal warmth escaped, you were emotional, you were confused-

peeking a glance over to wooyoung, the view of him brings a small smile to your mouth. his hair curling to his eyes, wet and dark. he was quite handsome like that actually.

you shouldn’t even have that on your mind right now, because there’s much more needed to be tended to- according to what happened to his sweet face.

but you forget how long you’ve stared for, and when wooyoung locks his gaze upon yours, you blush and stutter out an apology

“a-ah sorry-“

your mind feeling so many uncalled for nerves, why was your body reacting this way? this is wooyoung here, your brother's best friend- and just a certain boy who deserves so much.. a boy you've come to be very fond of-

“so y/n,” he pipes out while playing with his fingers, “do you want to talk about it?”

“uhh.. about..”

“him.” he replies back curtly “did he hurt you?”

the mere thought that he had hurt or upset you somehow made wooyoung feel so much inner rage. how did he let it happen? wooyoung knew seonghwa’s intentions, he knew that the certain male had a thing for younger girls in school. how he would treat them all high and mighty just for his pleasure, fuck- and he had got to you.

“well, no- not exactly” you say looking down at your pacing feet, “i stopped him before-“

“i knew it” he blurts out, interrupting you in the process “i knew he had some plan going on- why the fuck was he here anyway? there’s no other thing for seonghwa to come back here, why else would he have come”

the way he kept rambling about it made you start getting a little agitated and you weren’t even really sure why you felt so much right before you snapped.

“maybe he wanted to hang out with me-?! maybe wondered how i’m doing for a change!” you stare back at wooyoung, stopping your movements- feeling your tears come back as you try and finish your outrageous sentence, “m-maybe he came back because missed me..”

watching the switch in your emotions flip and turn into someone he’s never seen before made wooyoung call out to you again ever so softly. cupping your cheek as he furrows his brows together and searches into your glazed and fire filled eyes

“y/n..”

“i don’t know why… maybe i’d have someone close like my brother to.. i just” you ramble on then- abruptly pause and look down to the concrete discretely “i miss him-”

“i miss yeosang, wooyoung i don’t know what i was thinking, but when i saw hwa i thought things would be better.” taking a deep breath and meeting his eyes once more, “maybe he’d make me feel different..”

all this rush of emotions waving and thrashing into you made you blind to what wooyoung was going through, and when the silence stretched longer and the more you two just held your gaze- regret settled in your mind

“i’m sorry-“ you squeak out embarrassed, making your body move forward quickly ahead of him.

“this is so selfish of me woo- i’m so sorry”

pretending you don’t hear him call out after you walking away, wooyoung slowly jogs after you

your face is probably a sight to see with tear stained cheeks, puffy eyes and a bright blush.

it’s been awhile since someone had seen you cry, you always made sure to make it that way too. your mom didn’t need another reason to worry or feel stressed, and you find it awkward spilling your innermost emotions. but it was different right now- and you weren’t even sure as to why. maybe it really was because wooyoung had been a kind face and heart to you since the day you met. maybe it was because this was the first time to show him a different side of your usual composed self to him- and it was at a sense awkward but yet vulnerable and familiar.

“y/n!” he cries out to you, grabbing your hand in his tight so you halt your movement.

tugging on you hard, wooyoung faces you straight on and cups your cheek with his other hand. his face pulled into the expression of sadness and eagerness as he scanned yours- sub cautiously analyzing your lips and the way they quivered softly. oh how they looked so soft and delicate, how much he wanted you to erase that pout away with a small kiss- but nope, that's not happening.. it just can't.

“y/n why is it selfish?” he asks sadly “it’s not selfish in any way, you have every right to speak out about what you feel- it’s only natural!”

bringing your hand up to hover over his cupping your face, you trace small lines around his fingers as you try to calm your emotions. watching his lip tug with dried blood, you felt defeated- why was it that when wooyoung wasn't there you didn't feel so numb? why was it when wooyoung came, you felt so guilty and overwhelmed- like it's the only time you finally realize the outcome of something in the past?

“i'm sorry.. woo, everytime it seems- i just can't help but feel bad around you-” you pipe out warrily, looking over every feature of his face but his eyes, “you have so much more going on and i have no clue as to-”

“oh pumpkin.” he interrupts, scoffing out and letting go of your cheek to lift your chin up to him for a better view, making your eyes connect with his again “no worries! please i'm sorry to make you worry- i only slipped walking home earlier in the rain.. bashed my mouth right into a bar- pretty embarrassing right?” he giggles out his best. “glad no one was around to see that”

wooyoung could only think you were so overwhelmed seeing his face so he just went on about it, not referring to tell you about his home life yet… or really ever.

but watching the way his eyes flickered with this hidden emotion, you get the weird feeling that wasn't the whole truth he was telling you..

going up the steps to your porch- holding hands with wooyoung, you quietly open the front door. not wanting to wake your mom, because you’re coming home at such a late hour she’s probably in her study sleeping at her desk.

taking off your shoes, you release wooyoung's hand and head into the kitchen- when a piece of paper catches your eye.

on the walk home from the beach and following incidents, wooyoung made sure to comfort you until you were no longer on edge. holding your hand all the way home, giving it three squeezes every once and awhile- which you returned back joyously.

unfolding the piece of paper on the counter, you immediately recognize the handwriting to be seonghwa’s- making you quickly turn to look at wooyoung behind you. seeing he was busy untying his shoe laces you focus back to the note not paying attention to how your hands moved shakily.

“hey little lady,

i understand how things are going to be with us from now on. i’m sorry that it ended up like that.. i really thought it would have a different outcome- but nonetheless i hope you’ve made it home safely.

ah yeah— your mom didn’t actually suggest i’d see you.. i told her that you were the one who wanted me to come, sorry about that.

i understand that our relationship was different with yeosang around- i only wish it could’ve been more y’know.. you were always so cute y/n! yeah .. well i guess have your extreme fun with that freak jung wooyoung.. who lives off the deep end

i miss you already~

-seonghwa”

swallowing the unknown formed lump in your throat, you fold the paper back up and shove it in your pocket before woo can ask any suspicious questions. taking in a deep breath, you do your best with clearing your head- seonghwa had the audacity to apologize like it was nothing? why the fuck did he he bother writing a note to you? he used your mom as an excuse to get to you? and he fucking lied to your mom? this all.. this all was disgusting to you.

“you good y/n?” wooyoung chirps up behind you, ever so gently touching your waist- which involuntarily sent chills over your body

unawaringly jerking away from his hand, you turn to smile up at him. feeling yourself grow unexpectedly hot, and light headed- you push yourself back to lean against the counter.

“yep! all is good wooyoung- do you want hot chocolate?” you say, doing your best at not sounding wary.

the way he looks at you, cocking his head to the side- makes your body feel a little weak. hating the feeling, hazy and unaware of what you look like.

you speak again before he can even answer your first question, trying to present yourself with no issues.

“so.. the bonfire!“

hearing you mention that deal right now… after you just got done having a journey through emotions. wooyoung let’s out a light chuckle- one from your blushing face and two from your seemingly nervous demeanor and how quick you changed the subject. though the way your hands fiddled with the counter you were gripping tight didn’t go unnoticed by him and instead gave him worry. were you really okay?

“yes i would love some hot chocolate y/n…” he retorts back- then as he folds his arms across his chest, wooyoung shoots you a look of ‘i can see right through you’

“why mention the bonfire? i thought you didn’t want to hear anymore of it”

lifting yourself standing straight again, you accompany yourself with grabbing a mug out of the cabinet and hot chocolate packets.

“ah.. well i just guess it’d be nice, to uh have a little distraction? maybe..”

if wooyoung didn’t smile upon hearing that- he would have some problems. you, y/n- wanted to go out for a distraction? to the school bonfire? this friday? did he hear right?

“wait seriously pumpkin? are you joking?” he makes his way to your busy side.

watching you place the water filled tea kettle on the stove and empty the powder mix into the cups, he sees the way you’re a bit shaky. your hands busying themselves with whatever is by before you turn to him.

the two of your bodies closer than intended, as wooyoung’s knee brushed against your inner thigh it made you take in a deep breath and leave your mouth open slightly as he watched you.

oh how you looked right now- you were so oblivious to how wooyoung really felt about you. innocent was it? no. just not cared for properly, and he wanted to help so badly. your wide eyes and staggering breaths made him tone down a bit because… you’d just been harassed like four hours ago by an old ‘friend’ and that’s a dick move.

plus… even he was nervous himself, he didn’t know how you felt about him- and hell, this was just a bad time in general

“w-well yes… but only if i’m with you wooyoung!” you shriek out slapping his chest playfully, “i won’t go if you don’t- and i won’t go if you leave me, because you are literally the only person i like”

“wait. one. second… y/n, likes me??” wooyoung sings out teasingly leaning into your embrace, poking his tongue out as he smiles.

making you slap your hands over your eyes and whine out in embarrassment, you throw yourself into the crook of his neck.

“quit it… you know what i mean woo” you giggle out

all of this felt so natural, so familiar and you missed it. you missed this wooyoung, being so distant since yeosang’s deployment… you just wish this moment could be more.

yeosang said to stay away, and to not listen to him would make you the world’s worst sister- you loved your brother, very much. but. maybe, for once you could do something for you- for yourself

as the both of you slip into another long hug, your once hiding face now leaning into wooyoung’s shoulder while he softly grazes one of his hands down your side- stopping when he reaches your hip to softly squeeze. as he still holds your body close with his other hand, pulling you flush against him. your bodies so comfortable with each other, it was healing something going on inside the both of you… no longer were you nervous or scared, intimidated and embarrassed

then the tea kettle howled with its boiling water- and the two of you separated once more

did he feel bad about lying to you? yes. wooyoung wanted to be able to tell the truth, but as much as he wanted to be comforted because of it- he doesn’t want to bring it up to be seen differently. the rest of the night with you continued on with guilt, and it didn’t get better when you made jokes about him being clumsy and busting his face.

he would just laugh out and hit your shoulder, and it’d be forgotten with a sinking feeling in his stomach of really why he has a purple jaw and a split lip.

wooyoung even had to bring up a semi true story from his childhood in order to try and convince himself- and you that he’s okay- and has always been accident prone.

-

“i’m not kidding y/n! san literally just laughed during the whole thing!!” wooyoung squealed out trying to convince you of the one time he got dragged by san’s grandparents’s dogs on a leash and tried to ride a bike doing so.

which all didn’t end up well— having him crash the bicycle into a stranger's car and the dogs escaping throughout the street.

“wait who’s san?” you ask curiously as your laughter comes down

wooyoung’s face quickly lit up, bringing his hand to itch his ear- he spoke softly as if he needed to keep the subject light and happy, “ah, well he’s an old friend. my first friend actually!”

taking a short pause, wooyoung scoots himself further into the sofa with his hot cocoa in hand. while you hug your knees to your chest watching him get more comfortable.

“well before i moved anyway. san and i were very close and i consider him as my brother! i tried my best to always be there for him like he was for me”

you couldn’t help but feel yourself smile upon the description of wooyoung’s friend, he seems to be very important and it makes him happy

“you should go see him woo!” you tell him sweetly, poking his side playfully

causing him to snort out a stifled laugh and scold you for making him almost spill his drink

“ahh i don’t know, my dad wouldn’t let me i don’t think” wooyoung says before even realizes the words spoken and immediately feels cold as he sits straight and sets his mug down on the coffee table and looks at you

his quick movements scared you a little and his aura gave you worry

“you okay?” pulling your legs down from your arms, you lean over slightly and rest your hand on his now bouncing leg

something he does often- seeming to you when he’s nervous or uncomfortable

“oh yeah! sorry i just realized that we have school tomorrow y/n! and it’s late!” he hurriedly swipes off your hand and heads for the front door, giving out apologies

school? really? he was thinking about that? no way. wooyoung would never, he is one to stay up late any given time with someone who would love talking for hours! what’s going on with him?

“woo? you’re kidding? you can stay if you want- or i can walk you home”

upon hearing your offer he easily shuts it down and refuses politely, “oh no need pumpkin, it’s all good- thank you for the cocoa, i owe you!” and as he opens the door to the cold night air he waves out at last

“see ya tomorrow okay?”

-

the next day at school wooyoung arrived late

you too, were on the brink of being late- since you woke up with 15 minutes to get ready. not even getting a stomach full with breakfast

today wasn’t really settling right, wooyoung was giving you these vibes that were unfamiliar between the two of you

everytime you both were alone together he’d muster out an excuse and leave you there with these thoughts of sadness and … curiosity- it seemed at least

what did you miss last night that set things off differently?

was it because you asked about san?

it couldn’t be that, no. wooyoung looked like he enjoyed telling you about his great friend, you obviously could tell they’ve been through many years together

but, what was it?

what did you say and do to him that caused such awkwardness…

making your way into the hallway, the students dispersing in different directions- everyone’s voice canceling each other out, but you can’t help but hear wooyoungs.

turning the corner to the cafeteria for lunch break, you see him leaning against the vending machines- arm above his head, as he spoke through the phone

“yeah for y/n, but i don’t know… things might be weird, i sorta ran away from her last night.. whoops” he scoffs out, yet gives a soft laugh

you could tell just from his stance and the way his feet bobbed up and down from the sides of his shoes- that he was a bit on edge

“i probably wrecked it, i think i just made it weird..”

you had no clue as to who he was talking to, but you kind of felt bad invading his private conversation

so releasing the breath you were holding, you walked the other direction to take a different route and on your way away, something peaked your attention all over again

“i really wanted to stay with her last night-“

wait. wooyoung.. didn’t want to leave you? then why did he-

what was really stopping him from- wait.. hold on.. or was it rather

who was stopping him...